The Last of Morbid Tales
Thursday, 22. May 2008, 10:25:37
Well, I've just received news that Tartarus Press has shifted the last few copies of Morbid Tales, my second collection of short stories, and will not be reprinting. I note that the book is already listed as out of print. Don't ask me where you can get hold of the few remaining copies that are for sale. Obviously not from Tartarus, and not from me, either. I don't have any spare copies, I'm afraid, as I've already given them all away to people who probably use them to adjust the height of their computer monitors with.
Every now and then, when people learn I write stuff, they will say to me something like, "Oh, I'll check the shops for your book", at which I usually get a sinking feeling and wish to kill myself. I suppose people can't be blamed too much for not buying my books, as they are ridiculously hard to get hold of. I've been told by someone that he always recommends my books to people, but they find the buying process online too Byzantine and eventually give up on the endeavour, along with the wearying business of taking air into their lungs. Well, now they have a very slight inkling of how I feel most of the time about being a writer. It's fucking horrible, thank you very much.
Anyway, I didn't mean to go on another rant. This (rant) has just come out unexpectedly - obviously it's still there lurking beneath the surface.
But no, people are sadly, sadly naive about what a writer's life is like. No, I don't earn a living from my fiction. I know many, many writers, and I'd say fewer than one percent of them earn a living from their writing. What I mostly see in the world of writing is writers getting shat on repeatedly. Another common misconception I'd like to dispell here. When a book is published, right, that doesn't mean that suddenly infinite copies of it exist in a never-to-be-exhausted supply. Print runs are finite, and, when you're not famous, are usually very, very limited. This means that, if you're lucky, the book could disappear from the marketplace, forever, within months. If you're not so lucky, it will theoretically stay in the marketplace forever, just because no one buys it, or it could get remaindered.
So, how do I feel about the first edition of Morbid Tales coming to an end? Hmmm. Well, Morbid Tales was my second collection, but the fact that it was a hardback, nicely produced, did give me a certain sense of actually being a writer. When I got the cardboard box with my copies in, I felt - and this is typical of me - nothing much really. This was what I'd worked for for many years. I had a very faint sense of satisfaction, hardly passing the threshold of thought into feeling. I like the cover. The book got one or two reviews that gave me something of a boost as a writer. I mean, in terms of confidence, not in terms of sales or anything like that. I'm glad, generally, to be associated with Tartarus Press, and if you want to support them and me you could always buy a copy of Strange Tales Volume II in which I have a story, and tell them you particularly want it for the story by Quentin S. Crisp. You could also just buy more books and read more generally.
I don't think I've answered my own question. How do I feel about Morbid Tales coming to an end? Well, copyright reverts to me now, so I can always try and interest some other publisher in the material. I'm a bit too tired for that at the moment. What I really feel is not so different to what I felt when I first held the solid book in my hands. But now I also feel a vague sense of freedom and a vague sense of emptiness. This is what I became a writer for - this freedom, this emptiness.
Every now and then, when people learn I write stuff, they will say to me something like, "Oh, I'll check the shops for your book", at which I usually get a sinking feeling and wish to kill myself. I suppose people can't be blamed too much for not buying my books, as they are ridiculously hard to get hold of. I've been told by someone that he always recommends my books to people, but they find the buying process online too Byzantine and eventually give up on the endeavour, along with the wearying business of taking air into their lungs. Well, now they have a very slight inkling of how I feel most of the time about being a writer. It's fucking horrible, thank you very much.
Anyway, I didn't mean to go on another rant. This (rant) has just come out unexpectedly - obviously it's still there lurking beneath the surface.
But no, people are sadly, sadly naive about what a writer's life is like. No, I don't earn a living from my fiction. I know many, many writers, and I'd say fewer than one percent of them earn a living from their writing. What I mostly see in the world of writing is writers getting shat on repeatedly. Another common misconception I'd like to dispell here. When a book is published, right, that doesn't mean that suddenly infinite copies of it exist in a never-to-be-exhausted supply. Print runs are finite, and, when you're not famous, are usually very, very limited. This means that, if you're lucky, the book could disappear from the marketplace, forever, within months. If you're not so lucky, it will theoretically stay in the marketplace forever, just because no one buys it, or it could get remaindered.
So, how do I feel about the first edition of Morbid Tales coming to an end? Hmmm. Well, Morbid Tales was my second collection, but the fact that it was a hardback, nicely produced, did give me a certain sense of actually being a writer. When I got the cardboard box with my copies in, I felt - and this is typical of me - nothing much really. This was what I'd worked for for many years. I had a very faint sense of satisfaction, hardly passing the threshold of thought into feeling. I like the cover. The book got one or two reviews that gave me something of a boost as a writer. I mean, in terms of confidence, not in terms of sales or anything like that. I'm glad, generally, to be associated with Tartarus Press, and if you want to support them and me you could always buy a copy of Strange Tales Volume II in which I have a story, and tell them you particularly want it for the story by Quentin S. Crisp. You could also just buy more books and read more generally.
I don't think I've answered my own question. How do I feel about Morbid Tales coming to an end? Well, copyright reverts to me now, so I can always try and interest some other publisher in the material. I'm a bit too tired for that at the moment. What I really feel is not so different to what I felt when I first held the solid book in my hands. But now I also feel a vague sense of freedom and a vague sense of emptiness. This is what I became a writer for - this freedom, this emptiness.
