As a writer of literary fiction, I can tell you that the situation is even worse. Much worse. Your point is that writers and publishers--basically, the entire book industry--look up to literary prizes in a way that is not compatible with what literature really is. That's true. But the problem is that today no one pays attention to you--I mean, first of all publishers--if you don't have some kind of prize. On the other hand, in today's US, almost all prizes are identity prizes. Just look and see who got the National Book Award and Pulitzer in fiction in the past ten years. Not a single straight white man. Compare that with the country's demographics and you will see how insane that is. Writers can't publish their works in a society in which people are judged according to their identity, and so it's a vicious circle. Of course, many of them are part of the problem, because if they were dignified they would not have contributed to the creation of a system that values identity over intellect and talent.
For me, it's about who I am writing for and how that consciously or unconsciously shapes my work.
During my high school years, when my father realized that I was serious about writing poetry, he gave me great advice.
"Find something that you like to do to make your living, so you never have to compromise your art."
-----
I chose a college with a great track record for sending students to what was then the most prestigious graduate school for literary fiction, particularly poetry, in the country. I was very happy to be accepted. Now I just had to get into the poetry program.
When I went to my first meeting to have my portfolio–and me–evaluated, I didn't realized that I was to be critiqued in front of the entire group of students and instructors. Some, as undergraduates, had already been published in prestigious literary magazines as well as having their books published by the college press.
Several of the older students had attended colloquia at that prestigious graduate program. I had already met them at college gatherings and listened with envy to their stories of rubbing shoulders with the famous.
I was first in line. Had handed my work in days before. I stood up–think of the accused standing and waiting judgment in a court room.
"Your work is derivative and accessible."
My folder of poems and short stories was handed back to me, and that was that. Dismissed. Next, please.
I am proud of my 18-year-old self. I marched out of the building, across the commons, and into the administrative building. The basement housed the college print shop. I asked the boss, a lovely man named Jim, if he could teach me how to run printing presses, since I knew I had no chance that the college would publish my work. He immediately agreed and handed me an apron. By the end of the day I was in love with running printing presses, and I had found a way to make a living.
Spent the next twelve years immersed in the world of small press publishing and the book arts. Met talented people who were not particularly interested in pleasing the academic literary establishment. No awards. We wrote, published, and became performance poets, sometimes with small but loyal followings. I held several part-time jobs and was broke and happy.
I was offered a prestigious and juicy grant from a state arts council, if I would sleep with the aging executive director. I was 23. He was surprised when I turned him, the money, and the prestige down. He told me no one had ever turned him down, which I doubted. But I enjoyed a nice meal.
I also discovered The Bloomsbury Review, a book magazine that focused on the small, regional, and academic publishers. They reviewed books and interviewed people ignored by the writing establishment. I became a reviewer and contributing editor. Some of the best years of my life, but still, no awards, and very little money, just free access to great books.
About this time I met the idealistic and brilliant man who was to be my husband; he had started a research business with an unusual model. I fell in love with him and his work. I had to make a choice regarding where I was to devote my attention. I did not want to devolve into a mediocre poet, so I formally quit my literary writing and focused on making what had become our shared business a success.
When we closed the business and I retired, aka "I reset", I realized I could write without worrying about paying bills. I write for myself these days. I don't perform, and my publishing efforts are very modest. A small handful of people know me and like my poems and short stories.
I still don't understand why writing poetry that the average person could understand and enjoy was grounds for denying me a place in the poetry program. But it turned out to be a good thing.
Oh, and the man who rejected me because my writing was accessible and derivative did win important awards: Grammys and Oscars. He went out to write the lyrics for Broadway musicals and iconic Disney movies. His work was and is very accessible.
“People look at tepid mediocrities… that have picked up recent prizes and sensibly conclude that if this is the best that literary fiction has to offer then it can’t be worth reading much more of it.”
Yes. The short-sightedness of the industry here doesn’t make sense to me. If there’s concern that lit fic doesn’t sell without prize stickers attached, then make sure the prize stickers adorn books that people will want to buy.
Some of these examples of the overlooked (Borges!?) is why, to me, it’s not even controversial to state that gatekeepers make mistakes. What’s hard to understand is why it’s so hard for people to believe that’s true today, even though we can see it looking back.
“that none of them won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.”
Nikole Hannah-Jones won it for fiction in 2020. Democrats teach hate and pretend it’s black history. This Real Clear Investigations article below from 2020 is about the “1619 Project” and what the author Nikole Hannah-Jones told the editors of the Chicago Tribune about its purpose which is, she said, to instill guilt in white liberals so they will support reparations for blacks. White liberals are not being targeted though. White children in our public schools are. And Woke white leftists love this and are totally supportive of it. She was even given a Pulitzer Prize for this poison in 2020. This is not “black history” though. This is anti-white hate mongering pretending to be history. This is evil and this is what the democrats have become. And these are the same people who say they simply can’t understand why so many people voted for Trump.
“If you read the whole project, I don’t think you can come away from it without understanding the project is an argument for reparations,” she told the Chicago Tribune in October.
“I'm not writing to convert Trump supporters. I write to try to get liberal white people to do what they say they believe in,” she said. “I'm making a moral argument. My method is guilt.”
“Disputed NY Times ‘1619 Project’ Already Shaping Schoolkids Minds on Race.”
I have struggled to find good recommendations for books over the last 10 years as it seemed prize criteria has become more formalized and idiosyncratic based on particular moral messages and identity trumping (pun) story, character, and ideas. I now rely almost exclusively on friends and sites like 'Five Books' to turn me on to quality books. Otherwise its like trying to drink from a politically flavored fire hose.
As a writer of literary fiction, I can tell you that the situation is even worse. Much worse. Your point is that writers and publishers--basically, the entire book industry--look up to literary prizes in a way that is not compatible with what literature really is. That's true. But the problem is that today no one pays attention to you--I mean, first of all publishers--if you don't have some kind of prize. On the other hand, in today's US, almost all prizes are identity prizes. Just look and see who got the National Book Award and Pulitzer in fiction in the past ten years. Not a single straight white man. Compare that with the country's demographics and you will see how insane that is. Writers can't publish their works in a society in which people are judged according to their identity, and so it's a vicious circle. Of course, many of them are part of the problem, because if they were dignified they would not have contributed to the creation of a system that values identity over intellect and talent.
For me, it's about who I am writing for and how that consciously or unconsciously shapes my work.
During my high school years, when my father realized that I was serious about writing poetry, he gave me great advice.
"Find something that you like to do to make your living, so you never have to compromise your art."
-----
I chose a college with a great track record for sending students to what was then the most prestigious graduate school for literary fiction, particularly poetry, in the country. I was very happy to be accepted. Now I just had to get into the poetry program.
When I went to my first meeting to have my portfolio–and me–evaluated, I didn't realized that I was to be critiqued in front of the entire group of students and instructors. Some, as undergraduates, had already been published in prestigious literary magazines as well as having their books published by the college press.
Several of the older students had attended colloquia at that prestigious graduate program. I had already met them at college gatherings and listened with envy to their stories of rubbing shoulders with the famous.
I was first in line. Had handed my work in days before. I stood up–think of the accused standing and waiting judgment in a court room.
"Your work is derivative and accessible."
My folder of poems and short stories was handed back to me, and that was that. Dismissed. Next, please.
I am proud of my 18-year-old self. I marched out of the building, across the commons, and into the administrative building. The basement housed the college print shop. I asked the boss, a lovely man named Jim, if he could teach me how to run printing presses, since I knew I had no chance that the college would publish my work. He immediately agreed and handed me an apron. By the end of the day I was in love with running printing presses, and I had found a way to make a living.
Spent the next twelve years immersed in the world of small press publishing and the book arts. Met talented people who were not particularly interested in pleasing the academic literary establishment. No awards. We wrote, published, and became performance poets, sometimes with small but loyal followings. I held several part-time jobs and was broke and happy.
I was offered a prestigious and juicy grant from a state arts council, if I would sleep with the aging executive director. I was 23. He was surprised when I turned him, the money, and the prestige down. He told me no one had ever turned him down, which I doubted. But I enjoyed a nice meal.
I also discovered The Bloomsbury Review, a book magazine that focused on the small, regional, and academic publishers. They reviewed books and interviewed people ignored by the writing establishment. I became a reviewer and contributing editor. Some of the best years of my life, but still, no awards, and very little money, just free access to great books.
About this time I met the idealistic and brilliant man who was to be my husband; he had started a research business with an unusual model. I fell in love with him and his work. I had to make a choice regarding where I was to devote my attention. I did not want to devolve into a mediocre poet, so I formally quit my literary writing and focused on making what had become our shared business a success.
When we closed the business and I retired, aka "I reset", I realized I could write without worrying about paying bills. I write for myself these days. I don't perform, and my publishing efforts are very modest. A small handful of people know me and like my poems and short stories.
I still don't understand why writing poetry that the average person could understand and enjoy was grounds for denying me a place in the poetry program. But it turned out to be a good thing.
Oh, and the man who rejected me because my writing was accessible and derivative did win important awards: Grammys and Oscars. He went out to write the lyrics for Broadway musicals and iconic Disney movies. His work was and is very accessible.
“People look at tepid mediocrities… that have picked up recent prizes and sensibly conclude that if this is the best that literary fiction has to offer then it can’t be worth reading much more of it.”
Yes. The short-sightedness of the industry here doesn’t make sense to me. If there’s concern that lit fic doesn’t sell without prize stickers attached, then make sure the prize stickers adorn books that people will want to buy.
Some of these examples of the overlooked (Borges!?) is why, to me, it’s not even controversial to state that gatekeepers make mistakes. What’s hard to understand is why it’s so hard for people to believe that’s true today, even though we can see it looking back.
“that none of them won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.”
Nikole Hannah-Jones won it for fiction in 2020. Democrats teach hate and pretend it’s black history. This Real Clear Investigations article below from 2020 is about the “1619 Project” and what the author Nikole Hannah-Jones told the editors of the Chicago Tribune about its purpose which is, she said, to instill guilt in white liberals so they will support reparations for blacks. White liberals are not being targeted though. White children in our public schools are. And Woke white leftists love this and are totally supportive of it. She was even given a Pulitzer Prize for this poison in 2020. This is not “black history” though. This is anti-white hate mongering pretending to be history. This is evil and this is what the democrats have become. And these are the same people who say they simply can’t understand why so many people voted for Trump.
“If you read the whole project, I don’t think you can come away from it without understanding the project is an argument for reparations,” she told the Chicago Tribune in October.
“I'm not writing to convert Trump supporters. I write to try to get liberal white people to do what they say they believe in,” she said. “I'm making a moral argument. My method is guilt.”
“Disputed NY Times ‘1619 Project’ Already Shaping Schoolkids Minds on Race.”
Real Clear Investigations. Jan 31, 2020
https://www.realclearinvestigations.com/articles/2020/01/31/disputed_ny_times_1619_project_is_already_shaping_kids_minds_on_race_bias_122192.html
Great read. Mallory Young's recent Quillette article "Plotting Lives of Quiet Contentment" does a fine job of addressing a similar topic: https://quillette.com/2025/05/26/plotting-lives-of-quiet-contentment-victimhood-modern-fiction/
I have struggled to find good recommendations for books over the last 10 years as it seemed prize criteria has become more formalized and idiosyncratic based on particular moral messages and identity trumping (pun) story, character, and ideas. I now rely almost exclusively on friends and sites like 'Five Books' to turn me on to quality books. Otherwise its like trying to drink from a politically flavored fire hose.