Storytellersunplugged

George Guthridge

Janet Berliner (who is also a contributor to this site) and I have known each for 26 years, and have written half a dozen stories and four novels together. Besides that, she helped edit the nonfiction book that I just published. She probably knows me better than anyone else other than either of my wives – in some ways, maybe better.

Ergo, I take great stock in what Janet has to say.

One day she told me, “You know, we writers can do something that few other people in America can – write a book and get it published by a real press. But if the general public realized just how insecure most of us really are, then they probably would not want to read a word we have written.” That’s a paraphrase, but it’s pretty close.

Which brings me to this column.

I have been teaching writing for 37 years – I started with the usual composition classes and now also teach creative writing and the teaching of writing – I have been publishing for 37 years, and I am just finishing a doctorate in composition theory. Yet in some ways I feel even more insecure about writing than when I started.

The reason: I do not understand the business behind. And certain events that have recently transpired make me feel even more insecure than ever about promotional activities and the like.

To wit:

First, a reviewer of my latest book – as I mentioned, it is nonfiction – unjustly accused me of making things up. There is a disclaimer in the front of the book – it’s impossible to miss – that says I rearranged some the time sequence of some of the events, and added in two scenes that actually occurred much later. It’s a book about teaching; I made those changes because we want high school kids to read the book and because some teachers who read the book in manuscript wanted to see the pedagogy (which was invented during the time of the story) “in action.” I also noted that some characters are composites. I made composites because of length and also for privacy – the book contains some emotional scenes, and certain people needed to be protected.

The reviewer, however, adroitly said nothing about the disclaimer, but rather acted as if – ah! – he had uncovered the fact that I had changed some things; and he came unglued about the composites. He insisted that the book was fiction. We know that the review deeply hurt sales, especially in a state where there is only one major newspaper.

Second is the matter of distribution. This book is from a regional publisher, and getting it onto bookshelves has proven harder than pulling a polar bear’s wisdom teeth without the bear being sedated. Obviously, people cannot buy what they cannot locate. It is on Amazon, but that is not the only bookstore in town, of course.

Third: getting reviews. I have now heard about every reason imaginable why it should not be reviewed by paper X. A national Native American media outlet did not review it because it was not written by a Native American, even though it is about the only team of Native Americans ever to win a national championship in academics. The national newspaper for teachers simply does not take our calls – I have no idea why. We are in the process of sending an excerpt to every newspaper in America, but whether that will help I do not know. Yet I open books that are basically memoirs and they are reviewed by major media. No one who has read the book has said that it is poorly written. Just the opposite has been true. Many people have said they wept, the story was so inspirational Many people have written or phoned to say that they stayed up most or all of the night reading, because they did not want to put it down. But can I get reviewers even to open it? The polar bear again.

We have not yet started trying to work with radio stations – though I did do a couple of interviews in Alaska – but I feel so out of my element in all of this that I bought a book on “How to publicize your book.” The advice basically came to this: if you need publicity, then hire a publicist. But if you do not have a huge advance, then you better not bother.

So as a line of the book says: What to do what to do what to do?

I feel helpless in the face of all of this, and frankly do not feel like writing about writing when so much of it consists of something I know so little about.

—–George Guthridge