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This writing was accepted for publication
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cc&d (v239) (the December 2012 Issue)

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Fred, some of your writing is too disgusting.

Fritz Hamilton

    “Fred, some of your writing is too disgusting. Most people don’t want to read about beheadings with blood gushing like Old Faithful from your neck in a world where nobody’s faithful, & love is many a splendoured gore.”
    “Since it’s the truth, maybe they should be subjected to it anyway.”
    “Why? If it’s true that God is dead, why should most people be subjected to that truth?”
    “Then people can make their choice about what’s to do about it.”
    “Okay, Fred. After somebody reads you, what choice can he make about it?”
    “Whether or not to commit suicide.”
    “But the publisher has a say in it to. You write your disgusting crap, like Dostoevsky writes about murdering an old crone, but the publisher doesn’t want to torture his readers with it; so she just doesn’t publish it. What do you do about it?”
    “If the publisher would rather print The Bobsey Twins or Dick & Jane with their dog rather than me & Dostoevsky, she has the right, but I can find another publisher. & if I can’t like Kafka, I don’t get anything accept Amerika published, until 20 years after I’m dead, because Max Brod then gets me published.”
    “What if you don’t have a friend like Max Brod to get you published?”
    “I’m sure most great artists are never discovered.”
    “You mean, like you.”
    “Who knows?”
    “What about this piece you’re writing?”
    “I can assure you, publishers have expressed their feeling that my work is shit. That happens every day. It’s possible that Emily Dickinson never got published in her lifetime. If Mable Loomis Todd, a popular poet in Emily’s time, hadn’t married Emily’s brother, her poems might never have been published. It’s only recently that Todd’s punctuation has been changed back to Emily’s original punctuation. As it is Whitman’s regarded as our greatest poet, & Emily’s #2. Whitman was smart enough to publish himself, to make sure he’d be in control. I’m sure for every great artitst who is found, thousands are lost.”
    “So what about you, Fred? Why don’t you publish yourself?”
    “That still doesn’t mean you’re going to be read. & think of the painters who languish in thrift shops or someone’s garage until soneone finds them. What are the odds of that? A thousand to one?”
    “This isn’t just about art. Who would have guessed that a buffoon like Newt Gingrich would have wiggled his way this far to get the Republican nomination for president? & what about Mitt Romney? Good GOD!”

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