Showing posts with label media. Show all posts
Showing posts with label media. Show all posts

Sunday 19 February 2023

The Food-For-Thought Bank

– Hello, is this the Submissions Editor?

– Um … who is this? 

– I wondered whether you’d received my submission.

– I wonder how you got this phone number.

– “Research”! I sent my manuscript to you two months ago …?

– Our response time is twelve months.

– Twelve? That’s a year! Don’t tell me: it’s because of the pandemic, supply chains, inflation, Russia, staff shortage, quiet quitting … How am I doing?

– (Sigh ..) What’s your title?

– Haven’t got one, I’m a commoner. I’m not Bipoc, Black, Indigenous, marginalized, gender-variant, or particularly youthful … is that why you haven’t read my submission?

– Of course not, we practice inclusion and equity. And monetization.

– Monetization?

– Yeah, you know: making money. What’s the title of your submission?

– The True Death of History.

– Oh. We don’t deal in Truth here. You can’t monetize Truth, only “truths”.

– Oh?

– All our authors are skillful self-marketing influencers. To have your manuscript accepted, you must have an existing social media audience, and you’ll reflect back to them their own opinions so they’ll share your site with others and the algorithms will give you more hits because you had more hits. They metastasize …

– Huh. Amazing. Maybe The Truly Metastasizing Logarithm would be a catchier title.

– Yes. But it’s not about the book anyway, it’s about the author. What you’re selling is yourself. 

– It’s a self-auction? 

– Yes, on Zoom, Instagram, TikTok … you must perform on them.

– I don’t do much online stuff, I do print stuff. Would the audience see me, or could I have my face blurred out? 

– Of course they must see you. Ideally your performance would include music – and dance is good – and studies have shown that when people cry online their audience grows exponentially. Also, photos of cooking are popular. And a cat or dog is a huge asset, especially if it’s a rescue and when you tell the tale of its rescue, you cry …

– Look, I’m a writer, not a dancer or actor. Don’t you market books? Ideas? Free speech? Why would algorithms like me, what would those platforms get from my audience?

– Advertising revenue, of course, earned by you telling people what they already think. Most don’t read much, they watch dancing. That’s why bookshops go bankrupt, even chains like Chapters need to devote half their floor space to non-book merchandise.

– But not to merchants of thought. I get it.

– No, you don’t. Media influencers too are merchants of thought. They sell people’s group-think back to them, so they feel heard and “see themselves” in the media. 

– So is that the “circular economy”? Nothing wasted, all recycled to consumers wanting same-again assurance that their tribe is the right-thinking one?

– Now you’re getting it! So call me next year with links to your social media sites, which could form the basis for monetization of what you quaintly call your ideas.

– But will my book be in print?

– Print? Who knows?

– I’d be better off self-publishing and setting up a sales table at a community market. 

– Maybe.

– If I don’t sell a book to a publisher or a column to a periodical soon, I’ll be at the Food Bank. Hey, there’s an idea! What if independent authors were to market books at Food Banks? (Some people still put reading right up there with eating.) Maybe the authors could be persuaded to cry as the food recipients walk by with full grocery bags, and they'd get some donations … We could call it the Food-For-Thought Bank. Thanks, Editor, you’ve been really helpful.




 


Friday 13 May 2022

The Elephant Has Left the Building ...

... so we can speak freely now. 

Yet it's lonely without an elephant in the room. People used to feel anxious, apparently, when an elephant-topic loomed large and took up space, but now we have nothing to not talk about so we'll chatter about anything. What can't be said is big, so now we have only small talk and a silent question: where's the elephant? Has it died? Has the whole elephant species gone extinct? Is everything shouted from rooftops now, never faintly whispered in rooms? 

If nothing is unmentionable, what then are we going to not say? Must we say everything? We're surrounded by vast discussion-space, paradoxically trapped by scary open-ness so overwhelming that it's like a new claustrophobia. 

So where do we go now for silence, secrecy, evasion, hidden meanings? Where will we find double-entendres, sans l'elephant dans la salle? So much intriguingly unsaid information will be wasted, so much that's only subtly grasped will vanish completely. The implied will be dis-implied. We'll miss that elephant ...

Rumour, speculation and secrecy used to create profitability in the newspaper industry. Now, online social media drown us in streams of ultra-personal information accompanied ideally with tears of emotion (and preferably some hip-hop dance moves as well).

Traditional journalists are taking early retirement, saying "with no subject off-limit what is there to skirt the edges of libel and defamation about? I didn't enter this profession to not warm readers of things not yet proven in court." 

Instead of being secreted away, news is being excreted through new-media pipelines emitting an overwhelming stench of too much personal revelation.

So now readers cancel their subscriptions, complaining "how can I read what's not between the lines?" 

Sometimes free speech only happens in the gaps. 




This story is reproduced from LITERARY YARD, www.literaryyard.com, 2024/02/10 It's a common fairy-tale theme -- imprisonment in a tower ...