OK doesn’t mean “good” to me, just permissable. It is okay for fans to demand a change because they have that right. It is also a dick move. Doesn’t mean it’s not right or should be outlawed.
Can you post or link to some? Your approach to writing is so different than from any other writer I’ve ever heard of; I’m curious to see what your poetry looks like.
I inboxed you a piece from me; it wasnt relevant to the thread to post it here, nor do I host it online.
Well, I’ve given it alot of thought, and I’ve decided that this conversation is better off with my statement having been made. Thanks for your concern, however.
No more inane that your simple, unsupported declaration that “all artwork should be constructed without direct influence,” which is almost objectively incorrect, and qualifies as absurd because it contradicts a major pillar of art production; namely, that by producing a work of art, you’re entering into a dialogue with not only your audience but your fellow artists, which is why, for example, we have things in literature called “genres” and they have names like “modern” and “post-modern” that imply a continuum of artists who’ve been conscious of their influences.
But thank you for clarifying, I guess, because now it’s even more clear that your original statement was absurd. Previously, you could have wriggled out from beneath your opinion by claiming you only meant that artists should do their work without the guidance of critics or editors, alone in a solitary cabin in the woods, on an old Underwood typewriter. You would have only been misguided for thinking so, but no more ignorant than the teeming mass of would-be writers who surround themselves with the artifices of the craft, assuming then that they’re well on their way to producing works of art.
Your clarification, however, is even more outrageous because it comes from a place of total ignorance. It’s not even vested in the tired bromides of isolated cabins and typewriters; though I imagine that it comes from a similar sentiment since it engenders the same hilarious platitudes of the artist suffering for his work, eviscerating himself for the craft, just “cutting the wrists and bleeding onto the page,” etcetera, which, I mean, c’mon?! Really? Only an inveterate dilettante would believe such nonsense.
Did you know that Hemingway was consciously imitating Gertrude Stein when he wrote his first short-stories and his first novel? Or that Hunter S. Thompson would sit at his typewriter with an open copy of The Great Gatsby and reproduce the novel word-by-word, sentence-by-sentence, because he so desperately wanted to write and create fiction like F. Scott Fitzgerald? Or that Cormac McCarthy wrote Blood Meridian while thinking consciously of Melville’s Moby Dick and that it’s evident to any reader who’s read both novels?
Are they not artists?
These are the first examples that spring to mind. but there are thousands more. You can find examples in every arena of art; painting, sculpture, poetry, whatever. The notion that an artist only pulls everything from deep down inside himself without consciously stealing, copying, imitating, debasing, or reconstructing what’s already out there is the mark of somebody unfamiliar with the nature of the work.
Do you now understand why your comment is absurd?
The interesting thing about Misery is that the movie completely ditched King’s subtext about the writer’s obligation to his fans; there is a hell of a whole lot more in the novel beyond “He never got out of the cockadoodie car!” wherein the author undertakes much introspection about how to write what Annie wants him to write and present it believably to his readers. He even comes to think the book he wrote for Annie, and not the fancy new manuscript he originally wanted to publish, is the best thing he has ever written.