It’s understanding the context in which you write.Īnd, here’s the thing: that’s not some ghastly submission to soul-less commercialism. Frankly, if it isn’t, I’m fucked.īut I think between these twin myths of selling out and art for art’s sake there’s something else, something subtle and ephemeral that I guess you could call – in its most positive and useful form – awareness. I admire Amber’s blend of pragmatism and idealism, in that she acknowledges very explicitly that making money from what you do is good and necessary (something we shuffle around a lot when it comes to art) but she also believes that writing what you’re passionate about is the best way to make money. I’ve thought about it a lot ever since I read it. When all that matters is the story you want to tell.Ī long time ago (maybe last Friday), on this very site, Amber Lin wrote a really fascinating post she called The Myth of Selling Out.
It’s the kind of book you only write when you don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re doing. It’s about faith and love and monsters and selfhood on the edges of the world. Its heroes are a street rat, a priest, a crimelord, an opium-eating governess, and a genderqueer skypirate. It’s written in 18 th century thieves cant. What can I tell you about this thing? It’s a steampunk Western with a Lovecraftian twist.
Please forgive me if this looks like shameless promotion (and I guess, to an extent, it is) but: Prosperity came out yesterday.
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