The greatest living writer (in my opinion) is the South African novelist and essayist J.M. Coetze. He represents, I believe, one of the last vestiges of the romantic cult of genius, even if it this “cult” is not one Coetzee would literally subscribe to.  Read On »

This most recent article elicited praise and vitriol, both in the comment thread and in emails I’ve received from friends. The reason for this, I suspect, is that faith in oneself (as a writer)—self-confidence—is inherently and simultaneously obnoxious and charismatic.  Read On »

To self-publish, to put one’s “great American” book into existence without affirmation from a publicly acknowledged filter, is to risk being an emperor without any clothes on—this is really what paralyzes otherwise ambitious writers from self-publishing.  Read On »

So what does this mean for the independent writer? It means that they can write a masterpiece, publish it themselves and that the few critics who might have critical tools powerful enough to analyze it, will likely be too busy reviewing the latest prepackaged, well-groomed novel whispered-down-the-alley from MFA to agent to editor to mainstream publisher, to read it.  Read On »

Saying that writers can flourish without maybe a thousand or more words a day of written introspection, intellectual dialogue, and emotional bloodletting is almost like saying that we should expect Brazil to continue to produce great soccer players if children were banned from playing in the street.  Read On »

As writers and readers, we would benefit from being closer to our communities, creating markets for writers who disdain traditional outlets, and from allowing genuine face-to-face relationships to form between writers and readers.  Read On »

Writing a novel wasn’t an enterprise equal to others in the humanities, but a master-task that synthesized humanistic learning through verbal innovation: in other words, great writers had balls, and they backed it up with intellectual hunger and erudition.  Read On »

As much as I believe that a writer ought to be spiritually and aesthetically solitary—that is, ultimately self-reliant—I also believe that where there is a great book, there is almost always a great literary community.  Read On »