There Are Too Many DAMN Commas in Books These Days: Am I the Literary Asshole?
Kristen Arnett Answers Your Awkward Questions About Bad Bookish Behavior
We’re back! That’s right, it’s time for another scintillating edition of Am I the Literary Asshole?, the Internet’s premiere advice column that handles all things scandalous and liberally doused in Miller Lite. I’m your host, Kristen Arnett, and I am also liberally doused in beer (but most of it made it into my stomach). It’s always a party in my heart!
It’s March, my friends. That month that famously comes in like a lion and is supposed to exit like a lamb, but I’ll believe that when I see it. I’ve got to tell you, it’s feeling all lion all the time these days. But since it’s supposed to be a little bit of sweet and sour at the same time, why not shoot some lemon drops with me, your favorite Dad?
Bottoms up, y’all, and cheers to our first caller:
1) Am I the asshole if I don’t buy my friend’s book? Don’t get me wrong, I really love my friend’s writing (I’ve been reading their stuff for years now), but I also have A LOT of friends who are writers and they (very luckily) are all getting published; some small press, others at larger presses, some through contests, etc. That’s a lot of books and a lot of money. I don’t have the kind of bank account that can withstand buying books every single month. But I think that makes me a bad person. Does it, though?
Let me start off by saying this:
You’re not a bad person. It is not asshole behavior to note that everything costs a lot of money these days. Most of us don’t have a lot of it to throw around. Pretty much everyone I know is on some kind of serious budget. Celebrities have started doing very weird commercials again—dozens of famous people in ads for games you download on your phone? Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal in a mayonnaise ad???—which is a tried and true indicator of a recession. It’s not just books that are expensive right now. It’s everything. I can’t buy a damn egg without taking out a bank loan!
One of the nice things you’ve mentioned in your letter is that a lot of your friends are getting work published. Quite honestly, that’s amazing news! How wonderful! It’s a great thing that they’re getting published in all of these different kinds of places, too. Your friend group seems to have won the creative lottery. Very good problems to have!
Now, I see what you’re getting at. Preordering is something that every author knows is very important to the livelihood of a book and also our literary career. Preorders determine how seriously our publishers take us, how much attention we get from booksellers, and also plays into things like bestseller lists. I have a book coming out this month and I’m not too proud to post a link for it here in my own column! THAT’S RIGHT, I’M HUMAN JUST LIKE YOU. We’re our own best advocates for our work. And hey, lots of blood, sweat, and tears goes into crafting a book. The publicity cycle is enough to turn us all into demented cretins.
But spending close to thirty bucks every other week on a hardcover is asking a lot from a friend. It adds up very quickly and can be overwhelming. However! I do think that there are things you can do in lieu of forking over that $$$ and still be a supportive, good pal:
Put in a request for the book at your local library! This is a wonderful way to support your author friend and give others in the community a great chance to read the work, too. Even if you wind up buying a copy, this is still such a nice idea. Library books help everyone enjoy the work.
Read it on Libby (through your library is free) or even on an alternative platform (which will cost something, but less)! An e-book is a great way to read, and it’s more cost effective.
Show up for your friends’ literary events. I am a very firm believer that actions speak louder than words. If your friend is having a book launch or a party, you better get your ass there PRONTO. It’s meaningful when we show up for people.
Post about the book on your social media. Even if it’s a small platform, it’s a great thing to do. I can’t tell you how nice it is to see when my friends post something thoughtful about my work. This is a beautiful way to show that you care.
Maybe you don’t have the budget for a physical copy right now, but you can still be a supportive friend. Thank you for writing in with this one! Community is so important and it’s a terrific reminder that there are a lot of ways we can help one another without continually digging into our wallets.
Lemon drop for me, and lemon drop for thee—down the hatch and then onto our next question!
2) I’ve been assigned to review a book that I don’t think is very good. And I don’t know the writer personally, but we run in similar circles and the literary world is small. I want to be honest in my review—it’s not going to be a hatchet job, partially because it isn’t THAT bad and partially because I don’t feel the need to be cruel, but the book did not work on any level that I thought it was trying to achieve—but does that make me a bit of a literary asshole? How do we grapple with the criticism side of writers-reviewing-other-writers, an inherently asshole thing but also an inherently important thing??
You’re in a tough spot, friend. And by that, I mean that you’ve got to take off your author hat and put on your critic’s cap. The problem? You can’t ever really take the author hat off. It’s stuck there permanently.
At the end of the day, you are a person who is embedded in the literary world. You’re right, it can feel very small—especially when we realize that we have so many people in common. Her web (Literature) connects us all! If you write a review that is critical of someone’s work, they will likely not enjoy it. Them’s the brakes, kid.
So I would ask you to look at this review as an opportunity to challenge yourself. You don’t need to sit down and necessarily write a pan of someone’s book. You talk here very specifically about the fact that you don’t wish to be cruel, and that’s great. You’re thinking carefully and critically about the work. It’s simply not achieving what it set out to accomplish. But you can talk very clearly about the ways that this book set out to do something and then, in your opinion, did not succeed on that front. Consider the fact that you yourself are a writer. What are ways that someone has spoken about your own work—through a critical lens—that allowed you to see the holes in what you’d crafted? Also: what are ways that criticism has rubbed you the wrong way? Think about how you might say it; there are so many different ways to name a thing.
I think another good idea would be to think of book reviewers who do a great job of writing critique. Visit (or revisit) their work and see how they do it. That’s how we learn to write in the first place, correct? By reading the writers we most admire and modeling them. Why not do the same when it comes to criticism?
It’s possible that the writer in question will not love your review. But I think that if you’re thoughtful and take time with the work, that’s all that really matters.
Best of luck, friend!
Is there such a thing as too many lemon drops? Probably not! Here’s one more for the road while we take on our last query of the day:
3) There are too many damn comas in recent texts. It’s like an action movie with cameras changing angles and shots and takes and blasting sound effects each second… or are there? is it me? :(
I am leaving the accidental misspelling of what I assume is “commas” here, just because it gave me a real chuckle. Thank you for that, buddy!
I haven’t noticed anything with commas happening in text the way that you’re describing! But now I wonder if I’m alone in this? You know what—I’m going to put it to the audience—do YOU think there are too many commas in texts these days? If so, let me know! I’m honestly interested! This isn’t something I’ve thought about before.
And that’s all we have time for today. I’m all lemon dropped OUT (and we’ve successfully prevented scurvy, which is a great health bonus). Join me next time when I let you know about the consensus of commas in text. I’ll have that thing on me (that “thing” is a beer).
Yours in hops,
Dad
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Are you worried you’re the literary asshole? Ask Kristen via email at AskKristen@lithub.com, or anonymously here.