This may be slightly off-topic (and perhaps even controversial), but in good times, I think people are more inclined to pursue the arts because they have more time, more money and less worries. During bad times, we tend to return to survival mode and prioritize our lives including implementing strict budgets, often minimizing one’s involvement in the arts. That is why enrollment in art schools, dance schools, music schools etc, tend to decline during a bad economy—they’re considered indulgent, not necessary. My ex husband teaches at an art college and has seen a drastic reduction in the number of students in recent months. One can hypothesize that a prospective student would be less inclined to invest $60,000+ for an art degree during a bad economy than seek educational opportunities that may offer more stable employment; i.e. nursing school (My brother is an ICU nurse and has never been jobless). Therefore, given that people are shifting into survival mode, perhaps the slush will diminish as well. Instead of dreaming about getting a book published, distractions such as “I hope I don’t lose my house” will supplant such idealism. I’ve lived through a bad economy/ies before and it did seem to serve as a means of weaning out those who wanted to publish on a whim from those who absolutely lived and breathed the arts. Only the hardy seemed to have been willing to endure the life of the starving artist—-creating being a seemingly important physiological function (I can say for myself, it was and still is!). And those who truly had the passion to push forward despite the specter of starvation were the ones who simply needed to do art and writing regardless of financial consequence; thus separating the serious creators from the fly-by-night hobbyists. I would fathom to guess: this current economic crises will change publishing in many ways, including the number of those willing to invest time and effort into getting published. People will read more than write again (blogging notwithstanding). That seems to be the pattern.

In Terry Southern’s piece he wrote how he figured the odds were good he would find the Great American Novel lurking in all the manila envelopes that came in over the transom, but instead it just turned out that the goods were odd. He ended up reading only the ones that promised so-bad-it’s-good entertainment value, such as when an author left out their first name — a byline like “by Mrs. Carter” was sure to be what was known as “a weirdie” in his hipster-inflected parlance. He eventually found he could divine the worth of a piece of writing just by holding the sealed envelope and visualizing, like Johnny Carson used to do in his “Karnak the Magnificent” routines. (Terry Southern was the writer behind “Dr. Strangelove” and other dark comedies of the 1960s, after all.)
During my own days of reading through the slush pile for a national science magazine, we used to have a good laugh over the most amateurish in the bunch. Occasionally, though, a big-name author or his/her agent would send in something unsolicited that was so unpolished, ill-conceived, or inappropriate it went onto the heap with all the Mrs. Carters. I even had the dubious honor of rejecting such an undigested submission written by one of my favorite authors, the late great John Fowles.
Our long-suffering Editor-in-Chief insisted on a standard form rejection letter explaining to unfortunate would-be authors that “Sometimes a manuscript is rejected because the editors just don’t like it.” While this might have seemed unnecessarily cruel, he reasoned correctly that it made every rejection rebuttal-proof, because who could argue with such ironclad logic? (He used to read drafts with a pencil in one hand, and in the other a rubber-stamp that said “Ugh!”.) For those who insisted on submitting humorous anecdotes instead of serious scientific research, we would write back that we were very sorry, but we had no sense of humor. And for repeat offenders, the joke around the office was that we would finally send a form letter stating “Please do not send us any more of your writing, or we will be forced to come over and throw rocks at your mailbox.”
At one point during the 1980s there was actually a museum of unread literature established as a sort of home for wayward manuscripts, dedicated to the proposition that there is gold hidden somewhere in all that dross; but I expect this has been rendered obsolete by the Internet and self-publishing boom. So, Kris, are you saying that now when someone blogs or writes an Amazon review of a self-published title, they are serving as the unpaid worker drones of big publishing houses?

After disappointing relationships with traditional publishers (mangled books, long wait for little money, etc.) I set up my own publishing company (www.SilverSandsBooks.com).

If a traditional publisher finds my work and wants to rescue me from the slush, I’d consider an alternate version with a different title — but I’d never give up the freedom, fun, speed and profit margin I have with self-publishing and POD.

I must say, as a person who has always dreamed of becoming a published writer ever since the 4th grade, this article was quite depressing!
I realize that the piles of “slush” can be quite the tedious task to get through, but now knowing that most aren’t even read makes me want to give up trying.
I suppose I could take a chance and just blog my short stories and poetry and call it good; while I’m not receiving any payment, at least I can say that I’m sharing my creativity with any who care to give it a chance.

Denise, don’t despair – good writing still gets published every day. It’s a process of “getting to yes” and going over the transom is not the only way to break in. Editors need to be made aware of your abilities so that they will come to you instead. But how – there’s the rub. Kris has some good ideas about this.

Denise, there are ways to get out of the slush pile, or completely circumvent it. It’s just a bit more on the table these days, I think.

I think, after reading the reactions to his post, I next need to write about how to “get to yes.” (Good phrase, Tom.)

And yes, I do think this is a new publishing model that’s underway here. It will be interesting to see how it all shakes down over time.

Thank you, Tom and Kris for your words of encouragement, and I am looking forward to reading your thoughts on how to ‘get to yes’.
I think it is my own self defense/destruction of a dream, to say that it will never happen so give up before I’m covered in rejection notes. I just need to find more determination and a thicker skin and keep on trying.

Good stuff, Kris, and some interesting comments. The conventional thing now is to go for an agent. That’s as bad as the old slush pile routine. I chose the small press route where there is more individual attention.

Denise, I have to tell you that I have more rejection letters than you can possibly imagine. It’s all part of the process. Definitely not fun, though — and more than a little dispiriting. The way I deal with rejections is to think, “Well, now I know I’m not right for them,” and resolve to move on.

I’ll definitely be writing about this in my next publishing monday post! Clearly this is a hot button issue.

Rejection slips make great wallpaper!

Time magazine had that really neat article about the changing times: http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1873122,00.html

I think self-publishing can be a great thing. If I had the money, even I would do it!

Christina, you *can* self publish. Check out Lulu.com, where you can print full color books with no minimum print run. However, though their books are reasonably priced, they’re still too expensive to wholesale because of the price point. However, if you sell them directly, without a middle man, it becomes a feasible proposition.

BTW I have no professional affiliation with Lulu, but have used them to print up exhibition catalogs for my gallery and book proposals (they actually work up cheaper than running my ink jet printer). Lulu is digital printing, so they’re not as good as four color offset. But all things considered, the quality is amazingly good, especially when you consider the price. Overall, I’ve been very pleased, though I do wish their paper stock was a little heavier.

Cheser, yup agents these days are the conventional way to go. But agents, like publishing houses and marriages, vary greatly. Much depends on what your expectations are for your publishing experience. But that’s a subject for a whole other post!

I think readers are starting to recognize that the standards of traditional publishers are not as high as they used to be, particularly for established or celebrity authors, and what is most marketed is not always the best book. So when people decide to be discerning about their $15-20 and go to places like goodreads to discover gems based on referral, they don’t care who published them.

To your point about random readers combing through slush piles, check out authonomy.com , which is HarperCollins’ beta site where essentially would-be authors post their work and wade through the slush piles to comment on others’ work. It’s a new direction…

-Krista

Krista, I’d heard a rumor about this. But didn’t know HarperCollins actually did it. So my supposition wasn’t that far off, in regards to publishers getting unpaid outside reviews. Thanks for pointing this out.

Unfortunately I guess Authonomy is not helping HarperCollins spot traffic much. There were massive layoffs over there this week.

[...] –Kris Waldherr [...]