I began to remember my hunting for paper animals. I began to remember how many books, priceless, and perishable, how many masterpieces of planet literature I managed to teardrop distant from the dungeons of many secondary natural materials! After hours of authoritative work, the manager of this facility would let me in the back and let me (for a 4th clean) to practice a high-mountain climbing on the piles of dumps and while he lay at her feet, I was playing archaeologist. And erstwhile the vault was already scavenged, I woke up the guy and we went to the weight. I utilized to put a luck on it, which means all the books I found, and the guy sold them to me. The price was that if they all weighed 5 kilos, I had to bring him 5 kilos of newspapers instead. In this way everything was right and thanks to that I had a large library, and he - order in a brothel.
Times have changed, and the function of waste warehouses has taken over offices from refusing and giving literature to burn. For them, too, there was no difference between the book and the papers. Clever people took business and took things into their own hands: they began beginning up to the needs of a hungry society. So the production of bublas was blooming and on a massive scale there were rachitically produced releases.
Just as he utilized to sit in a garage on a beer box of future computer Gates, now he's in an online basement sitting in a multi-faceted display and waiting for a sucker with money. He was waiting for the reflexes and balding the superb of ignorance.
The naive client fell into his claws, and with the trembling manuscript in his scattered hands, he forged with delight, for at first he learned that he had spawned a large masterpiece, which would spread in the sign, and if well done, it would be faster. For which you have given individual honor.
By the time the future Nobel laureate realized that the publisher could not read it, due to the fact that he had not yet published anything, he was already cooked softly and was taking more banals. 1 of them was to inform you that the costs would not be incurred, due to the fact that the costs would be borne by the sponsor. Only that the sponsor erstwhile went to Berdyczów for a closed treatment and can alternatively usage the services of the Citizen Komornik, to whom the account should be paid a tiny penny in the number of PLN 3 000 plus VAT. The same, or 2 gold little plus VAT, must be paid in the bookstore, so that the book does not go to the dark corner, but finds itself where it is seen. And the sight of a book placed under the ceiling is little than the sight of 1 placed at the tallness of the eyes of a cross-eyed small man.
But the most costly places are in the vicinity of shelves with ranking bestsellers. Up there, it's boiling from the people who look, kiss and leave. The long, chilly tarts remainder on comic books, crosswords, various SFs, magazines full of cruel narratives, snotty tales coming up with fairy-tale scenery, tearful stories forcing eye contact and nose-drawing, aromatic soaps in the Harlequinian style, any colorful thrillers, feature yarns on drawn paper, adventure rachatlum, festive dances and swings with swavols. However, novels by Wojdowski, Kuśniewicz, Nalkowska or Bereza would be vain to look for. A serviceable subject has never heard of such, and there is no provision in the client Service Manual to know expired products.
Yes, if the author fails to make money and resigns from hanging out at the bookstore, he can fart all his effort under the bed and play a commercial. But note: on this, too, there is simply a taxation on cultural robbery.
* Oh, my God *
The difference between the piano tuner and the composer is 1 of tangible palpability and apparent obviousness. But since 1 without another cannot be and both are experts in their fields, it is simply a complete misunderstanding to replace their roles. Before we break out of laughter, imagine that Bach has a keyboard repairer, sits behind the instrument, haughty and unceremoniously reprimanding the master by instructing him on polyphonies, and for dessert, he gives him instructions on organ handling under the title Repair Se Sam. Or Beethoven, erstwhile he buys a couple of boards, half a ton of nails, takes him home and knocks off his harpsichord.
Similarly in literature: 1 sets up books and another writes them. Just like 1 is cultural and the another works in culture. This is where it starts to get serious, due to the fact that we ask ourselves: who is the present artist, the man who is simply a creator - a businessman? And we answer immediately: it's a figure that's pragmatic; it's not the creator anymore, it's the golden hand of an insecure cheetah.
* Oh, my God *
The word sales makes a career overpowering. It's a cult word. Just like the erstwhile cool, cool, crazy, cool. Cult, meant formerly - ceremonial, ritual, religious. Now cult is everything that sells well, is successful, and enjoys above average ratings. A cult can be a toilet, of course, if it previously belonged to a popular star.
Andrzej Wajda made the movie "Everything for Sale". The movie, for that time, told me that there's no specified thing as a snob to sell. Today, the “truth of the screen” that he breathes out of him makes me laughter with his kindness, due to the fact that over the course of the days, the innocent period of grotesque flaunting has evolved: he has become radical, he has evolved, he has developed tentacles, and he has grown into a norm that no longer surprises anyone; absurd has turned into a nightmare, and selling himself is simply a slogan for today.
More and more frequently it turns out that a product can be any, as it only matters profit. The song is not important. But selling it is important. If the book rests on a appropriate exhibition, that is, it burrows itself in the reader's eye, lies distant from the magazine, and close media publicity, if known reviewers are willing to read and measure in substance what is between the covers and rankings will confirm their verdicts, the author can walk in a danced glory.
But in order for that to happen, a candidate for the rapture must meet a number of conditions. The first and invaluable is having a financial background: an artist dreaming of intrepid pollination of his prefabricates, must have money to pay for his success. Otherwise, he will be left untasteful of the belief that although he has spawned a masterpiece, his work is more suitable for a peacock than for a splendour; nevertheless he is known to fewer household members, any of the neighbors in the block and 1 shopkeeper from the estate, these are not adequate reasons to be satisfied; he would like to be known more widely, receive good reviews, swell with pride and nervously number the money.
Unless, as wealthydifferent, will take care of begging and send out his desperate announcements to Associations to advance the fight against culture. Unless he joins a brave group of contemporary cultural entrepreneurs and finds out what it means to stay ineffective professional. That is, a professional in all field that touches on creative and publishing processes.
So he has to know everything, or almost anything. Make an unfunny correction. Know the cost of printing, breaking pages, the right font, selecting the right paper, making sense advertising, searching for and uncovering SPONSORS. However, an artist seeking support rapidly comes to the conclusion that specified as him is over more and, in order to sail into the wide waters, must fight with them in niches, basements and lost illusions.
Because there's no stall line and he can't sale his intellectual articles. So he disappears from the marketplace in a voluptuous rhythm of cha-cha-cha and proceeding about him wanders where dark, deaf and silent. Unless he suffers from excessive cash and does not bother to print his own book. Then he recommends his future bestseller to the professionals, and they will make certain that she has hands and legs, sells herself as God commanded and does not scare with taste, while she can herself do writing. He's got a free head, and he doesn't have a hard-ass thought that to scribble a book, he should be a printer, an introligator, or another Gutenberg.
