Feedback

Harry Bingham of Jericho Writers had this to say about feedback in last Friday’s email:

“One thing that mildly panics me when I offer advice via Feedback Friday is this: What if my advice is totally wrong?
There are some areas where I don’t have those worries. Sometimes, for example, I give specific editorial advice on a particular passage.
For example: “Your long second sentence would be better split over two sentences.” “The image of the X in this passage is interesting but currently a bit confused.” “You could lose word count here and still convey what you need to convey.”
In all those instances, I’d mostly expect any competent editor to agree with me, or at the very least to understand my concern. Exact strategies for dealing with the concern are legion, of course, but the editorial process is basically the same three steps, repeated endlessly: Figure out if you have a bad feeling; Figure out where that feeling is coming from; Figure out what to do about it. Those three steps are the same whether you’re a paid third-party editor, or a free beta-reader, or just you re-reading and re-editing your own work.
Obviously, the editorial process would be a bit pointless without that third and final step, but the first two steps are often the ones that feel transformative. “Oh, gosh, you’re right! Now I know why I felt uneasy and I can already see several different solutions all of which could work.”
Likewise, if I’m talking about something very brief and self-contained – an elevator pitch, for example – I feel well-qualified to offer feedback. Coming of age story in the world of Shakespeare’s Macbeth? That’s a wonderful, saleable pitch, and I’d pick that book up in a bookshop. Near-future eco-disaster novel for adults involving mermaids, flying killer robots and a talking rabbit? Um. Maybe not quite so good. Even here, it’s hard to be confident quite what I’m criticising.
If I come across a less-than-compelling elevator pitch, is it the pitch that’s at fault (a simple fix)? Or is it that the book itself doesn’t work (a terrifying prospect)? Because of this uncertainty, I try to proceed gently but I do tend to trust my gut feeling about the material in front of me. Other reasonable people might disagree, but I’d expect my views to be echoed by most genuinely competent judges. (Though, having said that, I’m meaner than most. Whenever I’ve given feedback alongside agents, I’m almost always pickier than they are. I’m Simon Cowell, minus the botox.)
Then we get to some more delicate areas. In last week’s Feedback Friday, we looked at very brief plot synopses. Thar’s a super-useful exercise for any writer because it forces them to consider the top-level shape of their plot as well as the causal unity of it. (What do I mean by causal unity? Simply that most novels don’t work if it’s one thing, followed by another thing, followed by another disconnected thing. We want the various events to flow, seemingly inevitably, from the one event that incites everything.) In those cases where I was underwhelmed by a synopsis, what exactly should the author deduce? That the synopsis is poor? That the book’s basic plot structure is poor? Or just that Harry didn’t like something, as a matter of his own personal taste? Honestly, in a lot of cases, I think any one of those three explanations are possible.
A short synopsis isn’t much to go on and a certain humility is in order from anyone offering advice. Much the same goes for any criticism of a passage where context is significant. So let’s say for example, I’m not that impressed by a passage where Princess Kara faces the dark Lord Mephilo. Suppose I think that Princess K just wouldn’t be likely to say or do X, or that a particular emotional reaction feels awry, or something else of that sort. Well, is that because the passage isn’t convincing? Or because there’s backstory dealt with elsewhere in the book which makes those things explicable? Again, any sane editor just has to approach questions like these with humility. All you can do is note an uneasiness and let the author use that observation in any way that’s helpful. In the end, the responsibility is always yours, the author’s. The issue isn’t really whether you like what I, or some other editor, say. Often enough you won’t. But I want the mermaids! I insist on keeping Pep the Talking Rabbit! And fair enough: this is your book, not mine. The question is always, “Is this comment useful?” Does it illuminate something? Do you the author get an insight that you personally find useful and actionable? Authorial responsibility never changes, no matter how far you go. Comments from me via Feedback Friday? Comments from an editorial buddy or beta reader? Detailed comments from a pro Jericho Writers editor following a read of your entire manuscript? Comments from an agent? From a publishing editor? From a copy editor who’s preparing your manuscript for publication? You must never let go. The manuscript remains yours. I literally don’t let a publisher change a comma without my approval.
When I’ve had copy editors who didn’t get my style, I’ve been through a whole 100,000+ word manuscript reversing the changes that have been made. It’s your book and no one else’s. Ever If a comment chimes, use it. If a comment doesn’t, disregard it. If a comment alerts you to a particular issue, but you want to deal with the issue in some way other than the one suggested, then go with your solution.
It’s your book.”

AI Wins Prize

An article in today’s RTÉ website titled: “Japan literary laureate unashamed about using ChatGPT” caught my eye. There is no author contribution shown.

“The winner of Japan’s most prestigious literary award has acknowledged that about “5%” of her futuristic novel was penned by ChatGPT, saying generative AI had helped unlock her potential.

Since the 2022 launch of ChatGPT, an easy-to-use AI chatbot that can deliver an essay upon request within seconds, there have been growing worries about the impact on a range of sectors – books included.

Lauded by a judge for being “almost flawless” and “universally enjoyable”, Rie Kudan’s latest novel, “Tokyo-to Dojo-to” (“Sympathy Tower Tokyo”), claimed the biannual Akutagawa Prize yesterday.

Set in a futuristic Tokyo, the book revolves around a high-rise prison tower and its architect’s intolerance of criminals, with AI a recurring theme.

The 33-year-old author openly admitted that AI heavily influenced her writing process as well.

“I made active use of generative AI like ChatGPT in writing this book,” she told a ceremony following the winner’s announcement.

“I would say about 5% of the book quoted verbatim the sentences generated by AI.”

Outside of her creative activity, Ms Kudan said she frequently toys with AI, confiding her innermost thoughts that “I can never talk to anyone else about”.

ChatGPT’s responses sometimes inspired dialogue in the novel, she added.

Going forward, she said she wants to keep “good relationships” with AI and “unleash my creativity” in co-existence with it.

When contacted by AFP, the Society for the Promotion of Japanese Literature, the Akutagawa award’s organiser, declined to comment.

On social media, opinions were divided on Ms Kudan’s unorthodox approach to writing, with sceptics calling it morally questionable and potentially undeserving of the prize.

“So she wrote the book by deftly using AI … Is that talented or not? I don’t know,” one wrote on X, formerly known as Twitter.

But others celebrated her resourcefulness and the effort she put into experimenting with various prompts.

“So this is how the Akutagawa laureate uses ChatGPT – not to slack off but to ‘unleash creativity'”, another social media user wrote.

Titles that list ChatGPT as a co-author have been offered for sale through Amazon’s e-book self-publishing unit, although critics say the works are of poor quality.

British author Salman Rushdie told a press conference at the Frankfurt Book Fair in October that recently someone asked an AI writing tool to produce 300 words in his style.

“And what came out was pure garbage,” said the “Midnight’s Children” writer, to laughter from the audience.

The technology also throws up a host of potential legal problems.

Last year, John Grisham, Jodi Picoult and “Game of Thrones” author George RR Martin were among several writers who filed a class-action lawsuit against ChatGPT creator OpenAI over alleged copyright violation.

Along with the Authors Guild, they accused the California-based company of using their books “without permission” to train ChatGPT’s large language models, algorithms capable of producing human-sounding text responses based on simple queries, according to the lawsuit.”

From my point of view, the use of AI to produce literature must sort out the copyright problem. When that issue has been resolved, using AI to write, or co-write, books will be accepted as commonplace, legal and ethical. We human beings have always adopted new technology, even dangerous technology, having found the good in it.

Fighting AI

There is an article in Monday’s issue of the Daily Telegraph concerning a lawsuit filed by the New York Times against Microsoft and Open AI that, on the face of it, is about imitating copyright news articles. But what is at stake is whether an artificial intelligence company could ‘train’ its software on the works of, say, Salman Rushdie, and then produce new Salmon Rushdi titles without paying the author any royalty. The article which bears the title “Silicon Valley’s mimicry machines are trying to erase authors” is written by Andrew Orlowski who is a technology journalist who writes a weekly Telegraph column every Monday. He founded the research network Think of X and previously worked for The Register. 

Andrew Orlowski

Orlowski says, “Silicon Valley reacts to criticism like a truculent toddler throwing its toys out of the pram. But acquiring a bit of humility and self-discipline may be just what the child needs most. 

So the US tech industry should regard a lawsuit filed last week as a great learning experience.

The New York Times last week filed a copyright infringement against Microsoft and Open AI. 

The evidence presented alleges that ChatGPT created near-identical copies of the Times’ stories on demand, without the user first paying a subscription or seeing any advertising on the Times’ site. 

ChatGPT “recites Times content verbatim, closely summarizes it, and mimics its expressive style”, the suit explains.

In other words, the value of the material that the publisher generates is entirely captured by the technology company, which has invested nothing in creating it.

This was exactly the situation that led to the creation of copyright in the Statute of Anne in 1710, which first established the legal right to copyright for an author. Then, it was the printing monopoly that was keeping all the dosh.

The concept of an author, a subjective soul who viewed the world in a unique way, really arrived with the Enlightenment.

Now, the nerds of Silicon Valley want to erase it again. Attempts to do just that have already made them richer than anything a Stationer’s Guild member could imagine.

“Microsoft’s deployment of Times-trained LLMs (Large Language Models) throughout its product line helped boost its market capitalization by trillions of dollars in the past year alone,” the lawsuit notes, adding that OpenAI’s value has shot from zero to $90bn. 

With Open AI’s ChatGPT models now built into so many Microsoft products, this is a mimicry engine built on a global scale.

More ominously, the lawsuit also offers an abundance of evidence that “these tools wrongly attribute false information to The Times”. The bots introduce errors that weren’t there in the first place, it claims. 

They “hallucinate”, to use the Cambridge Dictionary’s word of the year. Publishers who are anxious about the first concern – unauthorised reproduction – should be even more concerned about the second.

Would a publisher be happy to see their outlet’s name next to a ChatGPT News response that confidently asserts, for example, that Iran has just launched cruise missiles at US destroyers? Or at London? 

These are purely hypotheticals but being the newspaper that accidentally starts World War III is not something that can be good for the brand in the long run.

Some midwit pundits and academics portrayed the lawsuit merely as a tactical licensing gambit. 

This year both Associated Press and the German giant Axel Springer have both cut licensing deals with Open AI. The New York Times is just sabre rattling in pursuit of a better deal, so the argument goes.

In response to the lawsuit, OpenAI insisted it respects “the rights of content creators and owners and [is] committed to working with them to ensure they benefit from AI technology and new revenue models”.

However, the industry is worried about much more than money.

Take, for example, the fact that the models that underpin ChatGPT need only to hear a couple of seconds of your child’s voice to clone it authentically. AI does not need to return the next day to perfect their impression. After that, it has a free hand to do what it will with its newfound ability.

So, the economic value of a licensing deal is impossible to estimate beforehand. And once done, it cannot be undone. As one publishing technology executive puts it, “you can’t un-bake the cake”.

Previous innovations in reproduction, from the photocopier to Napster, were rather different beasts, as the entrepreneur and composer Ed Newton-Rex noted this week. Past breakthroughs were purely mechanical or technological changes. But this new generation of AI tools marry technology with knowledge.

“They only work *because* their developers have used that copyrighted content to train on,” Newton-Rex wrote on Twitter, since rebranded as X. (His former employer, Stability AI, is also being sued for infringement).

Publishers and artists are entitled to think that without their work, AI would be nothing. This is why the large AI operations – and the investors hoping to make a killing from them – should be getting very nervous. They have been negligent in ignoring the issue until now.

“Until recently, AI was a research community that enjoyed benign neglect from copyright holders who felt it was bad form to sue academics,” veteran AI journalist Timothy B Lee wrote recently on Twitter. “This gave a lot of AI researchers the mistaken impression that copyright law didn’t apply to them. “It doesn’t seem out of the question that AI companies could lose these cases catastrophically and be forced to pay billions to plaintiffs and rebuild their models from scratch.”

Would wipe-and-rebuild be such a bad thing?

Today’s generative AI is just a very early prototype. Engineers regard a prototype as a learning experience too: it’s there to be discarded.  Many more prototypes may be developed and thrown away until a satisfactory design emerges. A ground-up rebuild can in some cases be the best thing that can happen to a technology product. There’s certainly plenty of room for improvement with this new generation of AI models. 

A Stanford study of ChatGPT looking at how reliable the chatbot was when it came to medicine found that less than half (41 percent) of the responses to clinical conditions agreed with the known answer according to a consensus of physicians. The AI gave lethal advice 7 per cent of the time.

A functioning democracy needs original reporting and writing so that we all benefit from economic incentives for creativity. We must carry on that Enlightenment tradition of original expression. 

Some may find such arguments pompous and any piety from the New York Times difficult to swallow. But there are bigger issues at stake. 

A society that gives up on respect for individual expression, and chooses to worship a mimicry machine instead, probably deserves the fate that inevitably awaits.”

Collaboration: Novelists & AI?

Debbie Urbanski has an article on the Lit Hub website dated December 8, 2023 in which she argues that novelists should embrace artificial intelligence.

Debbie Urbanski is a writer, nature lover, and human whose stories and essays have been published widely in such places as The Best American Science Fiction and FantasyThe Best American Experimental WritingThe SunGrantaOrion, and Junior Great Books. A recipient of a Rona Jaffe Writer’s Award, she can often be found hiking with her family in the hills south of Syracuse, New York.

Debbie Urbanski

Debbie says: “Let’s imagine, for the purpose of this essay, that the following statement is true: An AI writes a novel.

Actually, forget about the imagining. This is already happening. Today’s AIs—large language models (LLMs) specifically, like GPT-4—can write. If you’ve glanced at the headlines this year, you probably know this. They can write papers for high school students, they can write bad poetry, they can write sentences, they can write paragraphs, and they can write novels.

The problem is, for now, the creative writing that LLMs produce isn’t that great.

To demonstrate this point, I recently gave GPT-4 a few lines from my novel that describe a post-human world. Then I asked it to complete the paragraph. Here’s what it wrote:

The woods seemed to inhale, drawing in its myriad of lifeforms, coalescing into a pulsing organism. The gurgling creek was its veins, the trees its lungs, the moss and ferns, its skin. This realm thrived on its own rhythm, deaf to the clockwork of man-made time. Creatures great and small, predators and prey, living in an intricate ballet—well, you get the idea. If I were being kind, I would call these sentences overwrought and unpleasant.

So here’s what I really want us to imagine for the purpose of this essay: An AI writes a novel and the novel is good.

This is what a lot of people, and certainly a lot of writers, are angry and scared about right now. That AI, having been trained on a massive amount of data, including copyrighted books written by uncompensated authors, will begin writing as well or better than us, and then we’ll be out of a job. These concerns over intellectual property and remuneration are important but right now, it feels they’re dominating the discussion, especially when there are other worthwhile topics that I’d like to see added to the conversation around AI and writing.

Such as: how can humans and AI collaborate creatively?

Which brings me to a third possibility to consider: An AI and a human write a novel together.

In my first novel After World, I imagine humanity has gone extinct and an AI, trained on thousands of 21st century novels, has been tasked to write their own novel about the last human on Earth. When I began writing in the voice of my AI narrator in 2019, I had no idea that within a few years, artificial intelligence would explode into public view, offering me unexpected opportunities for experimentation with what, up until that point, I had been only imagining.

Some of the interactions I’ve had with LLMs like GPT-3, GPT-4, and ChatGPT have been comical. GPT-3 recommended some truly awful book titles, such as Your Heart Was A Dying Light In An Abyss Of Black, But I Lit It Up Until You Burned Bright And Beautiful, or Eve: A Love Story. (Eve is not in this novel, I explained. This didn’t seem to matter. It is just a cute play on words, replied GPT-3.) But many of my conversations with LLMs have been fascinating.

I’ve discussed with them about what AI would dream if they dreamed. We talked about the questions an AI might have about how it feels to be a human. We discussed what the boundary between AI and humans would look like if this boundary was a physical one. (An “ever-evolving, shimmering and translucent wall,” if you’re wondering.) We talked about why poetry comforts people, and we tried writing poetry and song lyrics together. We created so much bad poetry and so many bad songs.

But after days and days of so much bad writing, GPT-4 presented me with this pleading prayer which now appears at a turning point of my novel. To the embodiment of growth and expansion, / To the embodiment of purpose and fulfillment. / To all these entities and more, I humbly offer my plea, / Grant me the strength to manifest my desires…

One can certainly reduce these sorts of exchanges to my typing in prompts and the LLMs responding to those prompts, but what I’ve experienced feels like a much more collaborative process, more of an active conversation that builds on previous interactions. In a way, when we talk with GPT-4, we’re talking to ourselves. At the same time, we’re talking to our past, to words we’ve already written or typed or said. At the same time, we’re talking with our future, portions of which are unimaginable. As a writer, I find that the most exciting of all.

Here are a few other examples of human-AI collaboration that leave me optimistic:

1. “Sunspring”“ (2016)
A short film directed and acted with grave seriousness by professional humans but written by Benjamin, a LSTM recurrent neural network. The writing is surprising, surreal, and beautiful. I’ve watched this film more times than I’ve watched any other. I find it both weird and moving. It features one of the prettiest songs I know, “Home on the Land,” written by Benjamin but sung and scored by the human duo Tiger and Man. From the lyrics: I was a long long time / I was so close to you / I was a long time ago. (Interesting to note that “Zone Out,” Benjamin’s much less collaborative 2018 film that he wrote, acted in, directed, and scored, doesn’t have nearly the same emotional impact as his more collaborative work, despite the fact that the technology had advanced in the two intervening years.

2. Bennet Miller’s exhibition at Gagosian (2023)
Miller, a Hollywood director, generated more than 100,000 images through Dall·E for this project. The gallery show displayed 20 of them. When I first saw these photographs in March 2023, I couldn’t stop looking at them. I still can’t look away. I find them haunting, existing on the edges of documentary and fiction and humanness, suggesting a past and memories that didn’t happen but nonetheless was recorded.

3. Other Dall-E’s collaboration with artists (ongoing)
In particular, check out Maria Mavropoulou’s work on “A self-portrait of an algorithm”  and “Imagined Images”; everything August Kamp is doing, including documenting the worlds of her actual dreams with ChatGPT and Dall·E; and Charlotte Triebus’ Precious Camouflage, which examines the relationship between dance and artificial intelligence.

I worry that we’re forgetting how amazing this all is. Rather than feeling cursed or worried, I feel lucky to get to be here and witness such a change to how we think, live, read, understand, and create. Yes, we have some things to figure out, issues of training, rights, and contracts—and, on a larger level, safety—but I think it’s equally important to look up from such concerns from time to time with interest and even optimism, and wonder how this new advance in technology might widen our perspectives, our sense of self, our creativity, and our definition of what is human.”

Book Banning

There are several news items relating to book banning, which is becoming a controversial topic in the USA. For example, there is this from Publisher’s Weekly dated 3 October 2023:

“The U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit has set a tentative schedule to decide whether a judge’s order blocking the state’s controversial book rating law, HB 900, should stand. But an administrative stay issued last week by a separate motions panel of the Fifth Circuit remains in force—meaning that the law is now in effect, putting Texas booksellers in a precarious position…

“Signed by Texas governor Greg Abbott on June 12, HB 900 requires book vendors, at their own expense, to review and rate books for sexual content under a vaguely articulated standard as a condition of doing business with Texas public schools. The law includes both the thousands of books previously sold to schools and any new books. Furthermore, the law gives the state the unchecked power to change the rating on any book, which vendors would then have to accept as their own or be barred from doing business with Texas public schools.”

and this from The Book Browse website dated 29 September 2023:

“In partnership with the Freedom to Read Foundation, PEN America, and the Little Free Library, Penguin Random House is launching the Banned Wagon Tour, which during Banned Books Week will travel across the South, stopping in communities affected by censorship, celebrating the power of literature, and getting books to the people who need and want them most. PRH called the Banned Wagon part of its “ongoing efforts to combat book banning and censorship, which includes legal actions, tailored support for various stakeholders, and advocacy for First Amendment rights.”

“The Banned Wagon will feature a selection of 12 books that are currently being banned and challenged across the country, distributing free copies (while supplies last) to event attendees in each city. The Banned Wagon will also drop banned books in Little Free Libraries along the tour route and make a book donation after each Banned Wagon event. The Banned Wagon will include material from the Freedom to Read Foundation about how to write letters to school boards and elected officials, as well as regional spotlights from PEN America highlighting books and challenges being banned in specific states.”

and this from the Shelf Awareness website dated 29 September 2023:

“Coinciding with Banned Books Week, which begins this Sunday, October 1, the New Republic will launch the Banned Books Tour 2023, aimed at “championing the First Amendment and combating censorship.” The bookmobile, a symbol of literary liberation, will visit states that have experienced some of the highest incidences of book censorship, including Texas, Florida, Missouri, Virginia, and Pennsylvania, and continue to operate through the month of October.

“The tour will start at the Brooklyn Book Festival this weekend, where, in partnership with House of SpeakEasy, the New Republic will accept book and financial donations at the SpeakEasy Bookmobile. All literature may be donated, with a preference for banned and challenged books. These books will be given away in communities on the tour where access has been restricted or limited.

“Launching a book festival on wheels is a huge new undertaking for us, and I can’t wait to hit the road to support the importance of reading, New Republic CEO and publisher Michael Caruso said. “It’s even more exciting that we can embark in time to support ALA’s Banned Books Week. The New Republic has been a leading defender of the First Amendment for over a century, and this is a new way to give people the tools to join the fight for the freedom to read.”

Review: Truth to Power: My Three Years Inside Eskom

Eskom used to be a customer of mine when I worked for Westinghouse in the 1970’s. I took several trips to South Africa, but never got any business. Retrospectively, possibly because Westinghouse didn’t pay bribes. Eskom’s current severe load shedding attracted me to this book by André de Ruyter, the CEO of Eskom during the three year period 2020 -2022.

André de Ruyter must have written this book in a hurry. He resigned as CEO of Eskom in late February this year, and the book was distributed in late August. That’s six months to strike a deal with the publisher, Penguin, write the book, have it edited, publicised and published. At just over 300 pages it is filled with facts that he would have had to look up. As most novels have a ‘gestation time’ of at least a year, it is a remarkable feat to publish this book in six months.

de Ruyter got the top job at Eskom in January 2020. He says that 28 presumably qualified black candidates turned down the job. This gives an indication of how tough the job was. Eskom was shedding load regularly, deeply in debt, owned by the South African state, subject to political manipulations, and racked by corruption. de Ruyter says he took the job because it represented a challenge, and out of patriotism to South Africa and not for the low compensation.

In the book, de Ruyter describes the difficulties he faced as CEO:

  • Eskom had no reserve generating capacity, owing to years of indecision by the government. Government regulation made it impossible for privately owned generation to enter the market. The government wanted 100% control of the electric power market.
  • Eskom’s tariffs were below cost, and the government resisted efforts to raise tariffs, on the basis that cheap energy was desirable, but this only led to a huge debt mountain.
  • Municipalities did not pay the bills for power delivered to them. They had to be taken to court.
  • The government was biased in favor of coal fuel. This made it difficult to plan for renewables for power generation. Moreover, the quality of available coal was deteriorating, contributing to maintenance and output problems.
  • Corruption was rife in the purchasing of coal fuel oil and goods. A major, privately funded investigation found that senior ANC members were involved in corruption.
  • Local police did not co-operate in the prosecution of criminal employees
  • Violent threats were made against whistle blowers, including the CEO who had to have body guards.
  • The CEO was served a cup of coffee that had been laced with cyanide
  • The skills base was badly eroded. Regulations made it difficult to re-hire skilled white workers and difficult also to dismiss under performing black workers.
  • The average age of the power stations was more than forty years, and they had not been subject to routine maintenance
  • Regulations made it difficult to obtain OEM spare parts directly. This opened the possibilities of corruption
  • Sabotage of operating plant for political ends was not uncommon.

In spite of these challenges, de Ruyter did accomplish quite a lot:

  • a plan to transition to a low carbon future with privately- and Eskom-owned renewable generation
  • a culture change in Eskom: loyalty, accountability, and values based
  • the division of Eskom into three entities: generation, transmission and distribution

de Ruyter resigned when a new chairman was appointed with a brief to run a ‘hands on’ board. This led to management being undermined and second-guessed by amateurs at every turn. Unfortunately, that chairman is still in place.

This book will have caused consternation within the ANC. There are many specific accounts of named government leaders taking decisions and actions which are contrary to the interests of the country.

I have two criticisms of this book. First, it is not well organised. Topics and the timeline are frequently switched around. The whole story still gets told, but in a somewhat disjointed way. Second, de Ruyter lectures the reader frequently about why his management style and techniques are right. They are right, but the average reader will not need the lecture.

This book is a very valuable piece of work. It exposes the inherent weaknesses of a naive, Marxist-oriented government, shows the risks in government ownership of business, and makes the undoubtable case for competent, modern management.

Reconsidered: Jack Kerouac

Left without a new book I had ordered but which had not arrived, I went to our bookshelves, to find something to read in the meantime. I selected On the Road by Jack Kerouac, which I had read and reviewed on this blog in October 2020. I have now read it again, and I think I enjoyed it more this time.

Rather than re-review it, I’m going to share some of the research I have done on the book and its author.

Jack Kerouac

Jean-Louis Lebris de Kerouac was born in 1922 in Lowell, Mass to an immigrant French-Canadian family. His mother tongue was French and it took him some time to become fluent in English. He was brought up in a strict Roman Catholic environment. His father’s business was not successful, he drank heavily, and the family was short of money. However, young Jack was a good student, who excelled at football and he won a scholarship to Columbia University. At Columbia, he met the poet Allan Ginsberg (1926-1997) who would become the character Carlo Marx in On the Road, and the writer William S Burroughs (1914-1997) who would become the character Old Bull Lee. He also met Neal Cassaday, a wildly-driven intellectual who would become the central figure, Dean Moriarity in On the Road. These four men became the founders of the Beat Generation which loved bebop music, alcohol, drugs, sex and wild experiences. Kerouac greatly admired Neal Cassady for his total lack of inhibitions, his enthusiasm, his great spirit of adventure, his love of women, risk and fast cars, idealized him and considered him a hero.

Kerouac dropped out of Columbia when his football career ended. He joined the merchant marine in 1942 and wrote The Sea Is My Brother which was published in 2011, forty years after his death. For a short time he was in the US Navy reserve, but was discharged honorably on psychological grounds (a diagnosis of schizoid personality).

In 1947, Kerouac and Cassady embarked on a cross-country trip, after which the writer completed Town and the City which included the details of his daily life and was published in 1950 having had 400 pages edited out. In 1949 he began work on On the Road. In its original form, Kerouac typed it on a continuous sheet of paper 120 feet long, during 22 days in April 1950, relying on copious notes. Though the book was written quickly, it was not well received by publishers who objected to its sexual content (including homosexuality), drug use and its experimental writing style. According to Kerouac, On the Road “was really a story about two Catholic buddies roaming the country in search of God. And we found him.” According to his biographer, historian Douglas Brinkley, On the Road has been misinterpreted as a tale of companions out looking for kicks, but the most important thing to comprehend is that Kerouac was an American Catholic author – for example, virtually every page of his diary bore a sketch of a crucifix, a prayer, or an appeal to Christ to be forgiven.

For the next several years Kerouac continued writing and traveling, taking long trips through the U.S. and Mexico. He often experienced episodes of heavy drinking and depression. During this period, he finished drafts of what became ten more novels, including The Subterraneans , Doctor Sax, Tristessa and Desolation Angels, which chronicle many of the events of these years.

In 1954 Kerouac discovered The Buddhist Bible in the San Jose library; this was the beginning of his interest in eastern religion and philosophy, of which The Dharma Bums is an example.

Wikipedia says, “Kerouac found enemies on both sides of the political spectrum, the right disdaining his association with drugs and sexual libertinism and the left contemptuous of his anti-communism and Catholicism; characteristically, he watched the 1954 Senate McCarthy smoking marijuana and rooting for the anti-communist crusader, Senator Joseph McCarthy.” and “Kerouac’s novel is often described as the defining work of the post-World War II Beat Generation and Kerouac came to be called “the king of the beat generation,” a term with which he never felt comfortable. He once observed, “I’m not a beatnik. I’m a Catholic”, showing the reporter a painting of Pope Paul VI and saying, “You know who painted that? Me.” (Kerouac was, in fact a portrait painter, having painted Joan Crawford, Truman Capote, Dody Muller and even Cardinal Montini.)

On October 20, 1969, Kerouac vomited blood and was taken to the hospital in St Petersburg, Florida, where he was found to have an esophageal hemorrhage. He was given transfusions and an operation, but cirrhosis of the liver would not allow his blood to clot, and he never regained consciousness. At the time of his death, he was living with his third wife, Stella Sampas Kerouac, and his mother, Gabrielle. Kerouac’s mother inherited most of his estate.

Jack Kerouac was clearly a man in fraught search of himself. There are many conflicts in his character. But even if we set aside the subjects of his novels because we are unsure of the rationale, one has to admit that his characterisations, his descriptions of scenes, and the urgency of his writing are brilliant.

Page One

In yesterday’s email, Harry Bingham , whose company, Jericho Writers, is running a First 500 Novel Competition, provided some feedback from his reading of the submissions. His comments all have to do with Page One, of course, which includes the first 500 words.

“This last week, I’ve spent quite a bit of time looking at your opening chunks. A few things struck me, including how amazingly common it is for people to have multiple time threads on their very first page. Normally, we think a book starts at time T0, then proceeds in a logical sequence to time T100. Contemporary readers are, of course, well used to more complex schemes – multiple time strands, some flashbacks, perhaps a flashforward in a prologue and so on. But the only real purpose of your first page is to get your reader into your story-train. Unless your reader has chosen to embark with you, nothing else can happen. And it’s just astonishing how many impediments we writers put in the way of readers climbing on board. One of the most common issues is that people insert multiple timelines into their first page. So one (otherwise perfectly capable) opening chunk ran like something this: Para 1: Very short para saying what happened at the end of the conference, let’s say Sunday evening. Para 2: Step back to summarise the weekend that had just elapsed. Para 3: Step back to the Friday drinks reception. Para 4: Step back again to what arrival had been like on Friday morning. Written out like that, it’s nuts – but as I say, multiple timelines on the first page are genuinely common. And each time you shift the time, the reader has to mentally relocate. (“Where are we now? We were on Sunday night, I think, but we’re surely now talking about the weekend generally. OK, so yes, we’re in a new place. Righty-ho. Let’s see if I can make sense of what’s happening now.”) Each of those relocations is a small mental challenge to the reader and each of those challenges makes it more likely that the reader’s going to think, “You know, there are other books out there which are going to make me work less for the same rewards.” Perplexing chronology is a common problem. A lot of same-sounding names and relationships all laid out on page 1 is also challenging. Ditto anything without a clear physical setting (such as for example, the reflections of a character about something you don’t properly understand.) Or prologues than run to literally no more than 2-3 paragraphs, before the book starts all over again. The key question to ask yourself is simply this: am I making it easy or hard for a reader to enter my book and get to grips with it? If you are writing high-end literary work (and I mean the sort of stuff that could win the Booker Prize), you have my permission to make things complicated. In all other cases, you have to seduce your reader. Make their life easy and rewarding. And talking of which … If it sounds like writing Elmore Leonard famously said, that ‘if it sounds like writing, I rewrite it.’ I got a deeper appreciation of what he meant when I read your opening chunks last week. Part of the problem, I think, is that we have a “First 500” Novel Competition and those competitions encourage a somewhat flashy response.
For what it’s worth, I doubt if any of my books ever would have been seriously considered for a prize in a “first 500” type competition. My books just don’t choose to reveal much in the first page and a bit. Why would they? But the problem goes deeper. Writers are tempted to write flashily, to show off, to draw praise. And, OK, none of us mind a bit of praise – but, please, not at the expense of clarity. So lots of you wrote something that had this kind of tenor: They were only kids, yes, but kids who could run the universe. Jake could ride the lip of the slide and fly. Crash landings happened sometimes, but even the bruises were proof of something. Jonno had his bruises too, from similar antics. Blood brothers. The universe twins.
Yes, there’s some flashy writing going on there. But what the hell does it mean? How does the reader get on board with a story, when it’s simply unclear what’s happening? Here’s the same kind of thing, delivered in a way that makes sense: It was the hardest trick in the playground, but Jake had mastered it. Ride the skateboard down the raised metal lip that formed the edge of the slide, then fly three or four feet through the air before hitting the scuffed-up dirt at its foot. Jake was confident now, though he’d collected enough bruises over those summer months … [and so on]
You’re more likely to elicit applause with the first of those two chunks, but you’re a damn sight more likely to get readers with the second. So when you’re writing your opening chunk – whether for Feedback Friday, or the First 500 Novel Competition, or just because you want to write a saleable book – please don’t ask, “Does this sound like great writing?”. Ask: Is this clear? Am I obstructing the reader? Can the reader get easily onto my story-train? If it sounds like writing, you really might want to rewrite it.

What Readers Hate

There is an interesting article on the Washington Post website dated 8 February 2023 by the Book Critic, Ron Charles, about what book readers hate.

Since the article is quite long, I have posted excerpts below:

“A few weeks ago, I asked readers of our Book Club newsletter to describe the things that most annoy them in books.

The responses were a tsunami of bile. Apparently, book lovers have been storing up their pet peeves in the cellar for years, just waiting for someone to ask. Hundreds and hundreds of people responded, exceeding my wildest dreams.

Dreams, in fact, are a primary irritation for a number of readers. Such reverie might have worked for Charles Dickens’s “A Christmas Carol” or Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” but no more, thank you very much. “I absolutely hate dream sequences,” writes Michael Ream. “They are always SO LITERAL,” Jennifer Gaffney adds, “usually an example of lazy writing.”

Laziness may be the underlying cause of several other major irritants.

Sharp-eyed readers are particularly exasperated by typos and grammatical errors. Patricia Tannian, a retired copy editor, writes, “It seems that few authors can spell ‘minuscule’ or know the difference between ‘flout’ and ‘flaunt.’” Katherine A. Powers, Book World’s audiobook reviewer, laments that so many “authors don’t know the difference between ‘lie’ and ‘lay.’”

“If those who write and publish the book won’t make the effort to get it right,” says Jane Ratteree, “the book doesn’t deserve my time and attention.”

A few words need to be retired or at least sent to the corner of the page for a timeout. Andrew Shaffer — a novelist himself — says no one should use “the word ‘lubricious’ more than once in a book (looking at you, James Hynes).” And don’t get that confused with “lugubrious,” which Wanda Daoust is equally tired of. Meanwhile, Cali Bellini finds that the word “preternatural” is “overused, abused and never necessary.”

While we’re at it, let’s avoid “bemused.” “It doesn’t mean what you think it means,” says Paula Willey.

If these responses suggest anything, it’s that readers don’t want to waste their time.

Excessive length was a frequent complaint. Jean Murray says, “First books by best-selling authors are reasonable in length; then they start believing that every word they write is golden and shouldn’t be cut.” She notes that Elizabeth George’s first novel, “A Great Deliverance” was 432 pages. Her most recent, “Something to Hide” is more than 700.

But it’s not just the books that are too long. Everything in them is too long, too. Readers complained about interminable prologues, introductions, expositions, chapters, explanations, descriptions, paragraphs, sentences, conversations, sex scenes, fistfights and italicized passages.

In fact, McCarthy may be the source of another frequent irritant: the evaporation of quotation marks. If it’s meant to seem sophisticated or streamlined, it’s not working. Speaking of Amor Towles’s “Lincoln Highway” Nancy George says the lack of “quotation marks for dialogue is just distracting.”

When authors don’t use quotation marks, “sometimes you have to reread a passage to determine who is speaking,” writes Linda Hahn.

It’s like a film director shooting in black-and-white to signal seriousness of purpose, writes Michael Bourne. Mostly, though, it just makes it hard to tell when the characters are talking. See?

Such confusion is akin to a larger objection: Readers have had quite enough of what Susan Mackay Smith calls “gratuitously confusing timelines.”

“Everything doesn’t have to be a linear timeline,” concedes Kate Stevens, “but often authors seem to employ a structure that makes the book unreadable (or at least very difficult to follow). There seems to be no reason why this is done other than to show off how clever they are.”

But clever authors are still preferable to preternaturally unrealistically clever children or talking animals, who are deeply irksome in novels — along with disabled characters who exist only to provide treacly inspiration.

And how discouraging at this late date to find so many “women who always need rescuing,” as Deborah Gravel puts it. The old sexist tropes are still shambling along in too many novels. Even when female characters are given modern-day responsibilities and occupations, they’re often pictured through the same old gauzy lens. “Nothing makes me put down a book faster,” writes Heather Martin-Detka, “than overly sexy descriptions of women in unsexy situations, e.g. a scientist at work in the lab.”

NJ Baker is done with “stupid women who start out with intelligence, then turn into blithering idiots over men who aren’t worth their shoe leather.” She admits, “Sure, it worked for Jane Austen (think ‘Pride and Prejudice’), but if you’re stuck in that type of story arc, you are not Austen.”

Of course, the classic objections that have dogged novels since they began are still current. Many readers are disgusted with explicit sex scenes (including references to “his member”) and gratuitous violence, especially against animals, children and women. “I love detective fiction of all sorts,” writes Margaret Crick, “but graphic descriptions that go on for pages, no.”

Surely, somewhere some cynical, market-driven AI scientist is working on a novel-writing program that can accommodate all these complaints for maximum marketability. Trouble is, the things we hate in books demonstrate not only infinite variety but infinite specificity.

And with that, we have come to the end.

Book writers, you’ve been warned.”

Books on Credit

The January 26th issue of the Daily Telegraph has an article by Chris Price which says much about the times the world is in.

“Egyptians have resorted to taking out loans to buy books as inflation surges in the country. Book prices have more than doubled as the value of the Egyptian pound plummeted by about 43% against sterling over the last year.

Authors have even reportedly begun cutting out characters and descriptions as the cost of paper and ink soars, with inflation hitting a five-year high of 21.3% in December, according to statistics agency Capmas.

Mohammed el-Baaly, of Sefsafa Publishing House, told the BBC: “A book has become a luxury item here in Egypt. It’s not a basic commodity like food and people are saving on luxuries.”

Keen readers now reportedly can spread the cost of a book over nine month at 1.5% interest, according to the Egyptian Publishers Association.

Teen fiction author Dina Afifi told the BBC she hoped the scheme would bolster sales. She said, ‘My book’s been downsized, slimmed down to just 60 pages from around 100, because of the rising printing costs.’

Mr Baaly added: ‘The cost of paper and ink has gone up tremendously. The cost of a ton of paper is nearly four times higher than the start of last year.'”

The interest rate of 1.5% quoted in the article must be a monthly rate which would be equivalent to about 20% per year.

The Guardian, in an article dated last October said; “The price of books is likely to go up, say publishers – which are acting to avoid steep rises for readers.

Some presses are exploring printing on cheaper and thinner paper, postponing reprints for older books and publishing fewer titles to reduce costs and avoid increasing recommended retail prices.

But the hike in costs of paper and energy and the effects of Brexit mean price rises are likely in the long term if not in the short and medium term, “if the current high production and distribution costs stabilise at the current levels”, said Juliet Mabey, co-founder of the independent publishing house Oneworld

Valerie Brandes, founder and publisher of Jacaranda Books Arts Music, said it was highly likely that book prices for consumers would have to increase “across all formats” by 10 to 20%.”

So, we’re fortunate not to be buying our books in Egypt!