![]() In their stead has come the rise of the machines. As for the days of editors following their gut feelings, those went out with loafers. Ecotone duotrope series#Readers, who have their own lives and preoccupations to busy themselves, don’t realize that what they are reading has made it past a series of gatekeepers–agents, publishers, accountants, marketers–whose aesthetic, to use the term loosely, is based almost solely on sales. Now the first attempt is judged, not on its merit or promise, but on its sales, and thus the smithy’s fate is immediately and forever determined. Long gone are the days when a writer served a working apprenticeship, hammering out a book or three on their way to mastery. No, not a Kindle, which you will soon read on, or a computer, which is likely where everything we read is heading, but a scanning machine that tallies up the exact sales of an author’s book and so tells editors whether or not they should publish another. For those who might not have heard of it, Bookscan is a robot that determines what you will read. Perhaps the clearest sign that the literary apocalypse has arrived is the ascendancy of something called Bookscan. ![]() Meanwhile everyone involved holds onto the hope that the web will somehow change everything, though no one is quite sure exactly how it will do that. Some of these young monks, especially those in Iowa, actually have a shot at publishing books, since, as a rule, 26 year old editors are fond of 26 year old writers, but many grow discouraged by the scarred landscape and turn their energies toward blogging or, worse, real jobs. The books that do still sell do so through Wall-Mart and Amazon, for about as much as a bunch of bananas, and why buy books anyway since every word ever written by humankind is at this very moment being downloaded by Google? Meanwhile thousands of young people, still dreaming the old dream of “becoming a writer,” flock to monasteries called graduate programs. ![]() ![]() Every month another magazine bites the dust while editors live in fear, waiting for the next purge, and agents read from Kindles, hoping they can sell one more vampire book before it all comes tumbling down. The Rise of the Machines: Notes on the Literary Apocalypse categories: Cocktail Hour 7 comments ![]()
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