From “Thus Spoke Zarathustra: On Reading and Writing” by Nietzsche. 

No, I don’t think so. I think that true mastery of the style comes in human connection and that connection with the reader is important for a writer. One might say that it is important for financial reasons but it never starts there; it starts with an idea and an interest in a fleshing out of this momentary flash of consciousness that is turning over in the writer’s mind/stomach/crotch/whatever. We can assume that the device that generates concepts, ideas, and whatever other daydreams comes from an actual human being and must incidentally speak to other human beings by association.

Of course this means nothing if it is not presented in an organized fashion that adheres to goodly Strunk and White or whatever other mechanically-oriented writing text. So for Nietzsche it means education.

“Aphorisms should be peaks—and those who are addressed, tall and lofty. The air thin and pure, danger near, and the spirit full of gay sarcasm: these go well together.”

Yes, I agree, there should be a certain sense of sarcasm that is conveyed in writing, a kind of wink-wink-nod-nod for the reader. This may be why writing and literariness is regarded as snooty (snotty!), because it is kind of sarcastic. Holdonasecond, aren’t we supposed to think for a second that writing is about reaching someone across the page? So it is about community to a certain degree and from that we can say that Nietzsche was hoping that would not be the case? He might secretly hope that his writing wouldn’t reach anyone. No, what he’s referring to is education. A writer should somewhat connect to a reader but elevate their thinking past the reader’s learning and change their perception. Reaching the top of a mountain I guess. Maybe that’s true and honest. Yeah, that’s really the point of this, writing as a social engagement. Then there is this succession of writers talking about a similar thing recently.

From Emily St. John Mandel’s article citing Cheryl Strayed: 

“The most annoying thing to come of this past truly good year,” she wrote recently on Facebook, “is the narrative that I ‘came out of nowhere,’ that I was ‘an unknown writer’ before WILD was published. Actually, I came out of a literary community of readers and writers who knew me quite well. Before WILD, I’d published a novel as well as many essays that were read by a national audience. I bristle at this narrative not so much on my own behalf, but rather on behalf of the many writers I love, admire, respect and read. There is a strong and vibrant literary culture that exists and thrives in this nation and it does not exist in a place called nowhere, whether you know about it or not. It’s the place where the writers work.”

I liked this Facebook status a great deal. I love writing, and love working in solitude for long hours. But it brightens my working days and evenings further sometimes to think of all the other writers in our separate rooms, all of us trying to create something lasting in the place where the writers work.

I like this idea. I like to think that we’re not entirely alone and the idea that we interact with each other over the Internet brings us all closer together and more people notice what we write. Or not in my case. Perhaps there is too much signal to noise the more people self-promote, the less we listen. Generally, I think quality rises to the top. There is a connectivity to our writing communities.

This brings into question the other thing: Alt-Lit. I’ve been talking about this somewhat in my English 1 class and the definition of it at HTMLGiant (that somehow has disappeared from the site proper but showed up in my Google Reader this morning it’s called “The New Wave” written by Stephen Tully Dierks) makes me shake my head saying, “Yeah, yeah, right right.” I think it is interesting, it is sincere to a certain extent but can come off gimmick-y, however I do think it is valid to say that it makes us feel un-alone. (Sorry to use that oft-cited DFW thought-process, but I think it’s true.)

I’ve read two Tao Lin books (funny how he’s constantly referred to in relation to this Alt-Lit demographic and I suppose that’s the point of his “machine”) and…yeah. Not exactly my thing, but it was Shoplifting from American Apparel and Richard Yates, which apparently is just an aspect of his entire style. That is about the extent of my alt-lit reading so I really shouldn’t comment on the entirety of the thing. I do like the sensibility behind it, and I’m definitely going to check out more of it. There’s certainly plenty of material out there. Cicero, Hinton, and Dierks—as participants and observers of the Alt-Lit thing—say that Eggers, Wallace, and Franzen are not really a part of it, because it’s more old school in its influences with Whitman, Hunter S. Thompson, and Bukowski. Though, yeah, I’m with Hinton:

Frank: I don’t know if you can define “alt lit” because I think what people are doing right now is defining it. In the end it will be judged on what it brings into the world, and if that is something larger than a few chapbooks, some drunken parties and a 300 press novel then maybe it will become an actual movement. It needs a book though, and someone credible to back it up, I’m not sure if that exists yet.

Generally I’m focused on writing and how things are changing. I skew towards the Eggers and Chabon school. And I think comics definitely contributed to this Alt-Lit thing, but was at least twelve years ahead of it. 

As Cicero said, “Currently I am sitting in Seongnam, South Korea on a beautiful blue sky morning, staring out at a Buddhist pagoda on a mountain. I can see some cherry blossoms from my seat writing this, I wouldn’t be here unless I met Brittany Wallace through the alt lit connection.”

Alot of people met each other in comics because of the Internet. Kelly Sue and Fraction are the most cited, but there are thousands of comics stories similar to Cicero’s. Monkeybrain, Thrillbent, web comics in general are popping up in the wake of that kind of thing. It really probably started with Crumb and Pekar and reached a height with Bone, Cerebus, Faith Erin Hicks and Los Bros Hernandez. Ninety percent of the comics writers and artists working today don’t live in New York City, at least half of that percentage doesn’t live in Los Angeles either and I love that. Yet, we’re connected because we love their work, and we all use a similar system of tools to promote our work and what we like. How did we get there? Without the Internet, I don’t think I would be able to be so happy for Chris working with Kelly Sue on CAPTAIN MARVEL or Sam on X-Force and other books. I wouldn’t even remotely be connected to them if it wasn’t for social media. And they wouldn’t be connected without Warren Ellis who really started this internet-based lit trend. Perhaps that’s what we’re seeing now in comics, since we’ve moved on from the cringe-worthy Beatle-related nomenclature “British Invasion” of Moore, Gaiman, Morrison, etc. Perhaps we’re in the Internet Age of comics where creators came together on the Internet, through message boards and other online communities and are now influencing mainstream comics publishing similar to how Alt-Lit is influencing mainstream literature. I’m of course referring to the advance Lin gained for Taipei. Without social media and the Internet, I wouldn’t constantly be inspired by people like Fraction, Kelly Sue, Xtop, Vaughan, and many many others, because I generally believe they are good people and I wouldn’t know that if I didn’t interract with them on some level. They do fine work that I probably wouldn’t know about at all if this was fifty years ago. So thanks Internet.

Most of all I think I’m better for the age we currently live in. It makes me work harder, which is probably why I’m so damned slow, but it’s also why I teach and do other things because I like doing it for me, for free. I do it because I love it, and I don’t want to have to worry about my art keeping a roof over my head.