Fame…

Who needs it? Yearning for it is narcissism, of course, or even worse (Facebook is full of people who yearn for it). I suppose some people wanted (or even still want?) to be Johnny Depp. I’ll admit I would but only because he owns a nice island in the Bahamas. (Oprah does too, so there’s no gender bias on my part like maybe what might have occurred at the Heard-Depp trial—now those are two narcissists, but aren’t all Hollywood actors?) But having so much money that I can buy my own private island might bring me problems I don’t need—most people don’t need those kind of problems!

I’m certainly better known for my storytelling than I ever was as a scientist, but that’s not saying much. New Jersey’s own Harlan Coben might remember me—we exchanged a few emails long ago when he still answered them—but any old mare or stallion in the Big Five’s stables has no idea who I am. I respect and admire a lot more scientists than authors, though, than I do Hollywood stars, politicians, and yes, and many authors, primarily because I can understand why the former are famous but not the latter. (Of course, some of the latter are infamous and not famous.)

Fame often isn’t acquired because of skills or so-called “great works”; it comes to many because someone in the background has a vested interest in making someone famous and then controlling them. That certainly happens in both DC and Hollywood (sometimes they’re the same thing—consider old Commie-chaser Reagan who never was a great actor until he ran for president). I suppose that’s better than the incompetent moron who goes looking for fame (like Trump—the “f&^%ing moron” description is SecState Tillerson’s, not mine).

In the world of artists and scientists, though, there are a few heroes who aren’t narcissistic and could care less about being famous (or rich). They just go about doing their thing. I  believe my hero Isaac Asimov was in that group. So were Gandehi and Mother Theresa. Maybe their unassuming modesty instead of blatant narcissism is why they’re famous! (I wonder how old Isaac would feel about comparing him with the other two?)

These are a lot of words, so I will come to the point: Authors who write to become famous shouldn’t be writing. Period. We should all strive our damnedest to tell the best stories we can given our own artistic skills, inspirations, and motivations. The Big Five have made all the old mares and stallions in their stables famous because that suits them—their basic motivation (and maybe their authors?) is to sell books. They only care about good storytelling—any kind of storytelling really—if it helps them to sell books. In other words, their authors are relegated to the role of prostitutes who must keep the johns happy so that their pimps, the Big Five bureaucrats, can make a living.

I know that’s harsh, but these days I feel it’s necessary to be brutally honest. Anyone who tells me how I must write, how I must appeal to the market, and other asinine suggestions can go to hell! I’ll promise to continue to tell my stories as honestly and professionally as possible, but I will not try to satisfy everyone, especially editors, agents, and critics who have their hands in the Big Five’s pockets. Every author should declare his independence from traditional publishing’s oppressive tactics . Thank God self-publishing allows that. ‘Nough said!

***

Comments are always welcome. (Please follow the rules listed on the “Join the Conversation” web page. If you don’t, your comment will go to spam.)

Celtic Chronicles. Novel #9 in the “Esther Brookstone Art Detective” series is special: It’s the last novel in the series, and what a series it’s been with Esther and Bastiann taking us all over the UK and Europe and even to the Third World, from Peru to Turkey. (Yes, like Russia, the latter is Third World—nothing wrong with that; it’s just a fact.) In this novel, Esther and Bastiann volunteer to work at an archaeological dig near their modest castle outside Edinburgh. A student also working there is murdered. Police Scotland finds a Russian oligarch’s number on the lad’s call-list. That Russian is on his yacht anchored off the Scottish coast. As the investigation continues, everything becomes more complex, other characters come into play, and the intrigue and suspense increase. Available wherever quality ebooks are sold (but not on the grand Bezos bot’s Amazon). Enjoy!

On pubprogressive.com tomorrow: “Common-sense Gun Control.”

Around the world and to the stars! In libris libertas!

 

Comments are closed.