The Discrete Silence On Authors’ Pasts
Once upon a time I was struck by how little is said of writers’ pasts in those biographical blurbs on the back of the hardcover book dust jacket.
Later I realized it was because the biographical blurbs, in the interest of a sales-promoting glamorization, avoided a great many of the grimy realities of the writing life. Thus they do not bring up the crummy day jobs writers often work to pay the bills until they can get a break (teaching English, for example-indeed, I suspect this is one of the things that keeps college English departments in adjunct labor, in spite of the pay and terms).
Thus does it also go with the “crummier” writing jobs writers often do before they hit the big time. I had a recent reminder of this over at the blog Paperback Warrior, which covers a range of material (I have seen work as diverse as Jack London’s classic The Sea-Wolf and X-Files tie-ins discussed there), but concentrates on older work from the “pulpy” end of the spectrum — old hard-boiled stuff and the like. Most of the items Paperback Warrior presents are books reviews, but the blog occasionally presents broader, more background-oriented pieces. The one I have in mind now served up an overview of the history of the Nick Carter franchise, extending to its Nick Carter: Killmaster incarnation — one of innumerable ‘60s-era reinventions of older action heroes along James Bondian lines, with the old detective become a globetrotting secret agent. The resulting series ultimately had 263 installments between 1963 and the 1990s-era collapse of the action-adventure market.
One of the more interesting aspects of the series is the number of writers who worked on it, often under pseudonyms, before moving on to “A grade” hardcover work under their own names, and sometimes becoming fairly big names. Among them was David Hagberg, who wrote twenty of the Nick Carter novels on the way to becoming a major name in spy and techno-thriller fiction with his Kirk McGarvey books. One did not find the Nick Carter books included under the “Also By” heading in the front matter of his books. After all, he was an A-grade hardcover bestseller now, and we were not to think of him as anything else.
Such facts make the eternal whine of the Park Avenue types about the public’s misperceptions of the business the more ironic. They complain that the public thinks it’s much easier to become an author than it really is. But they certainly played their part in creating the illusion by eliding, among so much else, the apprenticeships from the record that convert old hands into apparent overnight successes — and of course, one can hardly credit them with worrying overmuch about the existence of apprenticeship opportunities, which have been dwindling for a long time. They shrank with the disappearance of the fiction magazine market and its openness for short form fiction (as Isaac Asimov forthrightly acknowledged in Earl Kemp’s Who Killed Science Fiction?), and then shrank again when the more limited opportunities afforded by the old paperback market, and series’ like Nick Carter, shrank in their turn. In this way as in every other today’s aspiring writer is very much on their own, with no helping hand to be expected from anyone.
Originally published at https://raritania.blogspot.com.
