So I’m sitting here watching the vaunted American economy J-Ello into a third world economy almost before our very eyes – and damn it’s too bad we never got around to privatizing Social Security because wouldn’t that have been brilliant and absolutely, let’s deregulate health care the way we did the financial industry because look how well THAT turned out…what a fucking McMoron – and I have to wonder:
What’s going to happen to writers like me?
By that I mean, will authors in my boat – sans deal or contract – get any offers for a while? Or will the publishers, probably just as terrified about where we’re headed as the rest of us, back off? Will they take a deep breath and keep their powder dry until we know exactly how long and how deep the storm is going to be?
Don’t get me wrong. I’m asking about art and the luxury of producing art for a public and right now, that might well be a luxury. I write books in my spare time and if that falls by the wayside for a while because we’re trying to keep the entire fucking economy afloat, that’s fine. My ego – monstrous though it is – would not demand that my books be published and the rest of the world be damned! I am whining but, as Steve King once wrote, it’s a gentle whine…as gentle as I can make it.
Writing books simply pales in comparison to the real problems facing this country…hell, in comparison to the real problems facing ME.
It’s just something I wonder about.