There are more writers than readers

With all the material available in blogs, self•publishing, memoirs, e•mail, instant messenger and other formats • there appears to be more writers than readers. Shrinking leisure hours due to the 24×7 work week restricts time for reading even further; and when you have to factor in time to read blogs and e•mail and instant messenger and all the other stuff that did not matter ten years ago, what is left for quality reading is abysmal.
There once used to be a mid•tier list of published books; they seem to have vanished into the realms of self•publishing or even up into the bestseller list which are marketed so hard these days, some people buy them out of curiosity. I wonder how many books sit on shelves • purchased due to peer pressure or in a spirit of self•indulgence • and are never read? I have many of those too: some purchased at book launches by writers I know but am too polite to refuse an autographed copy from • after all, they buy mine!
And so they sit • books in search of readers, books mined from the collective consciousness of an aging but educated generation that feels each member has at least one good story in them.
Has this cycle occured some time before in history or is this the first time? And what do writers do in this cycle? Continue to write books and stories that come from within and hopefully inspire readers, or chuck up the pen and take up golf or some other hobby that thare aging bodies can cope with? Any insights from anyone reading this would be welcome. I sometimes feel that I am the man on the island sending out notes in bottles with this blog. Hopefully, there is still a reader out there who is not overwhelmed with blogs, e•mail, self•publishing, bestselling non•sellers, memoirs and instant messenger to stop and read this • and write back!

The hurry to write

Writing comes in bursts of anxiety, like those pangs of mortality that strike us every time someone known to us dies. What if it is me the next time? Gee I’d better write it all down for my progeny before its too late. But the images and experiences that accumulate and get stored in this hard drive I call my consciousness is a vast territory to be mined. I am not sure I can write it all down, at least not in this lifetime. That is why “writer’s block” doesn’t mean much to me. Writer’s block occurs when the writer and the editor start off on the same foot at the same time (this will be the subject of one of my later posts).
The rush to write creates its own excellence ( by page six I am on a roll) and its own garbage ( by page 10, its pretty much a regurgitation of an old tape somewhere; the cliches abound and the drama sags). I don’t think I will ever enter a 3•day novel writing contest for that reason.
My hope is that one day (before that mortality thing comes up with my number) I will be able to collect these anxious bursts of writing and sift through them to leave behind a few gems from amidst the flotsam of my life’s experiences.

Quality vs. Quantity

I recently received some editorial feedback that two linked short stories would be better extended into a novel. Taking that feedback to heart I have been cranking out an average of 10 pages a day over the last three weeks. And yes, the plotline is still intact, with plenty more room for character development, sub•plot introduction, scene setting, musing, poetry and other embellishments. But the pace flags in places; how does one keep it up? Often, I wonder whether the original stories had better quality.
The shortest story I ever wrote was 10 words: “Nine months after the blackout in Toronto, he was born.” Now perhaps, this was too short. I missed on the factors that led to the great power failure in this world•class city (a bomb, perhaps, to add intrigue), the love affair that led to this character’s birth, why his parents (were they even married?) preferred to make love in the dark…oh, the lost opportunities!
Somewhere between my 10 word story and the full fledged novel lies the optimum length of story. How does a writer know when it is time to switch off the computer?

Stepping Out

I’ve looked at this blog for about three weeks now and wondered • why bother? Why add more lines to the petabytes (or is it gone up further? what ___byte is it now?) of blog data out there? Who the heck reads it anyway? Writers are private individuals, known to hide at their computers and create universes they control. Why open up to a universe where one has no control?
However, having said all that, I figured, instead of talking to myself, I might as well write my thoughts down; perhaps somewhere out there, someone is listening, or reading. Beats sending manuscripts out to land in a slush pile where they may never be read. Or is this blog the new slush pile?
I have listed some topics that I will attempt to write about in the next few weeks and months. It will be interesting to see what comes back.
I will attempt to publish the first one in a separate post today

My First Test Post

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Hey everyone. This is my first test post. The photograph is the cover of my first novel “Redemption in Paradise”