Debra J. Dickerson           
"Start livin'. That's the next thing on my list." Toby Keith
DEBRADICKERSON.COM

The brave new world of the writing biz

Trying to figure out this brave new, post-Internet, post-economic collapse writing game is giving me such a headache.

It's pretty obvious that writers are going to have to be a helluva lot more entrepreneurial and DIY. But that's obviously easier said than done. Check out one successful writer's experience with the DIY book tour. Sounds pretty painful for all involved. Stephen Elliott, author of The Adderall Diaries shares his experience at the NYT:  

     "I recently wrapped up a 33-city book tour. Originally, my publisher had a standard tour planned for me, bookstores in five large coastal cities. The early reviews were strong, and one friend, a successful author, encouraged me to do a larger tour. But the idea depressed me. “The Adderall Diaries” is my seventh book. I have my following, but I’m not famous. I didn’t want to travel thousands of miles to read to 10 people, sell four books, then spend the night in a cheap hotel room before flying home. And my publisher didn’t have the money for that many hotel rooms anyway.

    I decided to try something I hoped would be less lonely. Before my book came out, I had set up a lending library allowing anyone to receive a free review copy on the condition they forward it within a week to the next reader, at their own expense. (Now that a majority of reviews are appearing on blogs and in Facebook notes, everyone is a reviewer.) I asked if people wanted to hold an event in their homes. They had to promise 20 attendees. I would sleep on their couch. My publisher would pay for some of the airfare, and I would fund the rest by selling the books myself."

     Ah, book tours. Elliott's comparisong of standard with non-standard tours is captures it all too well. You should check his essay out.  I've done two standard tours and let me tell you - they may sound glamorous but they're not. They're exhausting and for months you get to say all the same things and answer all the same questions from about 6 am ("Good morning, Cincinatti.") to about 10pm when you finish a grueling day with a book talk at a big Borders or Barnes and Nobles. Bites the big one. Which is good. It means your book is doing well. But, given the current state of big publishing, no one knows what's going on, not even folks like Susan Orlean.  

    It's very likely that the standard book tour, the standard publisher-editor-writer-product-reader relationship is going the way of the do-do.

     Saddest of all, I know I've used the wrong verb tense.  

Analysis has led to paralysis for me as to where/when/how to leap back into the fray so...

...I'm starting with something fairly innocuous. ("Fairly," because it's certainly not so to his friends, family and hardcore  fans.) 

Something not so debilitatingly scary for a formerly prolific, successful writer who has been sidelined for the last decade by...all sorts of stuff.

What else can I do with what happened in Haiti this week?  But that's what happens when you procrastinate. Oh well. Turns out that timing really is everything. Who knew?

Haiti is so enormous, so well-covered, forgive me for 'punting' to think about Teddy P., who helped dominate my early '70s post-pubescence, waaay pre-internet teen years. 

My first slow dance (at about 14) was to one of the Blue Notes songs. It was at the wedding of the eldest Hite brother who was either en route to or home on leave from Viet Nam (more on them later. ESPECIALLY Darryl. And sometimes Andre), with whom I grew up in north St. Louis. Don't remember which song but am sure it was pre-solo Teddy and equally sure/aware of how...freighted...the experience was.

Because I'm me, I can't now help layering on comedian Franklin Ajaye's decade-later riff on T Pendergrass's...approach...to seduction. On an album called "Dont' Smoke Dope; Fry Your Hair" (don't ask), he mused on Teddy's lovemaking approach. I'm embedding the link at the first point at which, as Ajaye, noted, "Teddy will scare a bitch into giving him some."

It's this kind of consciousness-raising layering that turned me into the unemployable harridan I am now. 

Oh well.

Yeah. I'm a big feminist but I didn't make Teddy sing the way he did. So, listen to the whole song while I continue looking for Ajaye's riff on youtube. If u find it, please forward. Thanks. 

Note:? You can love Teddy, as I do, and realize now -- in the post-feminist lib moment--that his 'schtick' was a trifle...scary.

Whew.

Not happy with this post, but at least I've got it over with.


Whew.

p.s. I'm going to try hard not to allow myself to either spell check, delete or rewrite this.

Will explain why later.

If you believe in my work, hang in there y'all.

All wil be made clear. -Ish.