Return of the Reluctant, 2003-2007
Written byPosted on December 18, 2007
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This morning, I filed for divorce from Return of the Reluctant, citing irreconcilable differences. It was an amicable parting. No children, no property to squabble over. No embarrassing deposition testimony read to the jury. No alimony. Reluctant and I have had ourselves a good time over the years. But I’m a different person now. And I finally confessed to a good friend on the phone that I really had nothing more to say about books or the literary world in the Reluctant format. And I laughed for ten minutes over how absurdly simple the choice was. When something stops being fun, it’s pretty easy to become decisive.
You see, four years ago, this blog was started by a guy who worked a drab day job. But that guy is no more. Six months ago, I quit my drab day job, moved to New York to try and write for a living, and became much happier. Production stepped up on The Bat Segundo Show and the show’s tone changed to something more thoughtful, controversial, and interesting. It was much more to my liking. Yeah, there are a few clunkers in the 160 or so odd shows. But for the most part, I’m proud of the output. There are some incredible conversations in the archive and I really don’t care who hates it or ignores it. The great thing about blogging, podcasting, and the Internet is that there is truly nothing to lose.
Nevertheless, Reluctant was more of a chore. Often a thankless one. A daily grind in which I regularly asked myself why I wasn’t putting this kind of energy into the novel I’ve been working on, which is about halfway done, or the old-time radio project that I can’t stop dreaming about. Or just about any wild or ambitious idea that enters my noggin. There seem to be many of those.
I may be back. Old habits die hard. Maybe there will be something even half as fantastic as Black Garterbelt in Reluctant’s place. I don’t know. But if I do come back through a blog, and, frankly I’m on the fence right now, it will be in a new form.
For now, however, I’m done with blogging. And I’m serious this time. There are pages of crazed dialogue to bang out. Stories and essays to write. Podcasts to unfurl. Actors to recruit. A troubled protagonist to flesh out, who I’ve been learning more about over the past year.
If you’re looking for new content in the meantime, well, you’ll find all that over at Segundo — including, very soon, that Will Self conversation that some of you have been asking about.
But thanks very much for helping to make Reluctant what it’s been over the past four years.
– Edward Champion
[TANGENTIALLY RELATED: Lawrence Tate observes that my Chronicle of Higher Education piece, "The Perils of Literary Biography," can be found here.]
[UPDATE: I learned this afternoon from Josh Glenn that apparently Keith Gessen and n+1 are responsible for my decision. Actually, Gessen had nothing to do with it. It was Dan Fogelberg's recent death that caused me to sob for days. I sang "Same Old Lang Syne" to myself several times because I couldn't steal behind her in the frozen foods section without getting arrested. As regular readers here observed over the past four years, I was never capable of an independent thought. For all decisions, I consult Dan Fogelberg for advice. Had Fogelberg not passed on, I suspect things would have been different.]
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Books To Jump Up and Down Over
Beyond Heaving Bosoms by Sarah Wendell and Candy Tan. The famed writers behind Smart Bitches, Trashy Books have written a very funny and thoughtful volume about romances, both Old Skool and New Skool. Here is a book that any smug and humorless literary manboy beating his flabby passive chest over Banville or Bolano should probably read pronto, if only for the distant possibility that he might get over himself. While the Choose Your Own Adventure segment at the end caused me to have a very disturbing dream involving Shelley Long (don't ask), Sarah and Candy did have me rethinking many of my own misperceptions when I wasn't busy laughing. They're not afraid to take on the New York Times Bok Review or even the groupthink within certain sectors of the romance community.
Alice Fantastic by Maggie Estep. This wild and highly enjoyable narrative involves two sisters (presumably, the third one was still being rented out by Chekhov), a hippie ex-junkie mother who lives with seventeen dogs, a murder, gambling, and libidinous Hollywood actresses who live in Woodstock. But this is the wonderful Maggie Estep we're talking here. And what seems at first like a quirky yarn becomes something unexpectedly moving about connectivity. What I love about Estep's work is the way that she'll juxtapose an extremely astute observation (now that you mention it, why do cab drivers always have somebody to talk with on the phone past midnight?) with an often outrageous story development.
Generosity by Richard Powers. It doesn't come out until September 29th, but Richard Powers's latest will have anyone committed to books reconsidering their literary fervor. I foresee some animosity from the vanilla critics hostile to idea-driven novels, but book bloggers, YouTube chroniclers, and MFAs would do well to plunge into this chance-taking narrative, which introduces vital questions about what the reader's relationship is with media, scientific dissection, and "creative nonfiction." Are we rats fleeing to happy cities? Or can we find the humanism within the purported plague?
Pieces for the Left Hand by J. Robert Lennon. Lennon is one of the most underrated fiction writers working today. Much as On the Night Plain proved that Lennon had a lot more in the toolbox than heartfelt (and often very funny) suburban satire, this slim but fascinating volume juxtaposes 100 small-town anecdotes -- arranged by category -- in a manner that reads, at times, like Nicholson Baker's passions for minutiae and, at other times, Stewart O'Nan's concern for psychological detail. The result is fiction that makes us wonder about whether one person's subjective view of particulars can entirely be trusted. This book never found a publisher in 2005. But thankfully, Graywolf has released it in the United States, along with Lennon's latest novel, The Castle.
Wonderful World by Javier Calvo. This wonderfully raucous volume has been completely ignored by the Washington Post, the New York Times, and the Los Angeles Times. But it's probably one of the most delightful reading experiences I've had this year. Calvo cavalierly mashes up multiple genres and manages to mix up familial subtext with larger-than-life, almost cartoonish characters. (Indeed, one might argue that one mobster's penis is a character of its own in this sprawling novel.). This is not an easy thing to pull off, but Calvo makes it work. And it's helped immeasurably by Mara Faye Lethem's idiom-specific translation. (See longer post.)
The Means of Reproduction, Michelle Goldberg This thoughtful book tackles the complicated (and little discussed) subject of reproductive rights from numerous angles, which includes a number of unpleasant but necessary ones. The upshot is that there isn't a quick fix solution for declining birth rates and fundamentalist abuses. Just about every political faction has contributed to the friction. But you'll want to read this book anyway to refamiliarize yourself with the topic, but also to understand just what's occurred during the past several decades to get us where we are today. (See also podcast interview with Goldberg.)
Or send materials to:
315 Flatbush Avenue, #231
Brooklyn, NY 11217
- The Possibilities of Small
- Ben Macintyre: The Latest Sourpuss to Run Away From Possibilities
- Untapped Currency
- Reminder: Live Conversation with Sarah Hall on Tuesday!
- Five Three Oh
- The Bat Segundo Show: Marjorie Rosen
- When Parody Replaces Opportunity
- The Benefits of Notebooks
- Hate Mail Dramatic Reading Project #8
- Slowdown
Really?
Wow.
Really?
Ed: thanks for all the effort—i enjoyed browsing ROR
It must have been a hard decision to make, Ed. Best of luck with all your upcoming ventures, I know you will do well with each and every one of them. I have been thoroughly impressed at what you have accomplished during the 20 years I’ve been proud to know you.
The Reluctant was always the first blog I’d hit up after hitting my daily (hourly?) dose of Google Reader… you will be sorely missed.
Your many readers will miss you, but this is the best thing for you. Congratulations on moving on to bigger and better things and thanks for all the memories.
Best of luck with the novel!
Say it ain’t so, Ed! Suddenly my Bloglines is a much more cold and desolate place.
Who will keep the New York Times Book Review on its toes, now?
How dare you ruin my morning ritual of reading lit blogs and drinking coffee! I might take up smoking in its stead.
Seriously, Ed. Best of luck to you, and I look forward to reading your novel. And remember: there are FOUR LIGHTS!
I’ve been a quiet lurker for a while and have never spoken up, but I have really enjoyed your blog. GOod luck with your novel!
Thanks for all the blogging, it was a great time. Congrats on having better things to do!
Thanks for everything, Ed. It’s been fun. Best of luck in your future endeavours.
aw, damn. you’re one of my favorite cranks.
Am relieved that the podcasts shall continue.
WTF??????
Well, I’ll miss the edrants fix. But I guess I can get by with Sarvas and…well, Bookslut I guess. Anyway, bettter you sweat and strain over stuff that pays than that which don’t.
Speaking of which…thanks to Google’s cache setup I was able to read your entire Chronicle article on literary biography. Good work, but the thing that jumps out at me whenever I think of the genre is somewhat missed – namely, the fact that with the combined factors of Bookscan and book-acquisition decisions being made by people more likely to be familiar with Larry Ellison than either Ralph or Harlan, literary bios are nearly a dead genre in trade publishing and are close to dying in university presses. A couple of months back I felt guilty about not having contributed anything to a noted litmag, the masthead of which lists me (under nom-de-real) as a contrib ed. So I considered writing something about the current state of literary biography. I emailed Carl Rollyson, who reviews practically all the ones that come out for the NY Sun, so can be taken as an expert on the subject.
Rollyson advised me that any lit-bio that makes it above the 10,000 mark in sales has to be regarded as a phenomenal success, and said that nearly all of ‘em do worse, anywhere from a thousand copies or less fo 6000. Indeed. From what I’ve gathered looking at Bookscan or Amazon numbers I suppose Charles Shields’ book about Harper Lee, “Mockingbird,” is the only such book in the last three years that broke the 20,000 mark in sales – I remember seeing an article that said it sold about 35,000. But even so, it’s about a woman who wrote a book that sold what, 15 million copies? Holt did give Shields a contract to write a book about Vonnegut, which is to come out in 2009 or thereabouts. But no other editor seems to have regarded these sales as the greenlight to commission a book about a writer.
(I should emphasize that I speak about American publishers. In the UK, where every reviewer likes nothing better than to use the publication of a bio as a chance to circulate ancient gossip, editors at trade and university presses still seem interested in getting such books. Hermione Lee’s Wharton book originated in England. So did the Malamud bio OUP just published.)
Long story short: after I read what Rollyson had to say I scotched the idea of doing the piece. The litmag in question is read by more than a few trade editors. I figured that if I put up Bookscan figures of just how many copies the most recent lit-bios had sold here, then no major trade imprint would ever buy such a title again. Better to give the poor devils trying to sell such books half a chance. A long way from the days, 30 years ago, when major imprints would unhestatingly buy books about Delmore Schwartz (a really forgotten figure at the time) or Louise Bogan or Harry Crosby, and when Warner Books could actually issue a mass-market paperback edition of a book about Josephine Herbst.
PS I was somewhat tickled to see David Michaelis’ “Schulz And Peanuts” being discussed in an article on literary biography. I’m pretty sure that nobody at Harper, in the process of acquiring the book, saw Schulz as a literary figure – more like some guy from the sticks who somehow put together a billion-dollar brand.
I’ll miss the occasional Doctor Who geek outs from time to time (though me suspects that you may be giving up on the show as long as RTD is allowed to continue producing things like the season 3 finale). Thanks for all the great reads and long live Bat Segundo!
Aw, crap.
You will be missed, but I always liked Mr. Segundo better anyway (don’t tell him I said that — takes compliments with all the grace of a Baldwin).
Ed, I think this would be a bad decision purely on a marketing standpoint. You’re a freelance writer, and having a regular blog allows you to direct reviews to your articles from here, it brings a lot more eyes to your writing. Also, once you finish your novel and publish it, you’d have a popular blog to help promote it.
Why don’t you just scale back and post a daily round-up? You’re going to be surfing the internet anyway, might as well post quick links to the stuff you find interesting.
Lawrence Tate: Thanks very much for your thoughtful comment and for alerting me to the Chron piece, which I hadn’t realized was put up.
Simon Owens: This site will continue. Just not Reluctant. There should be about four or five podcasts coming today or tomorrow at Segundo.
Took me several sentences up top to realize that *blogging* is what Ed’s giving up. I thought at first it was just the dopey name (”Return of the Reluctant”) and we were pleasantly undergoing an exciting new re-branding for a new year.
Well, it’s been fun for us, being on the other side of the screen (so to speak). I’ll definitely miss your postings to this space, but when it’s time to go, you’ve got to go. (And, of course we’ll always have Bat Segundo — at least, I hope so.)
Anyway, Ed. Best wishes.
Oh no, no other blog compares to this one. Please don’t go away.
Seriously, this is the only blog I read regularly. Argh!
I’ll get over it, I suppose. Thank you for e-mailing about the Will Self episode.
Ed, where am I going to get all the publishing related news that’s fit to blog about (before anybody else does, I might add)? And seriously, my obscure pop-culture geek-outs?
Bah. This ruins my morning.
oh, errr. Damn. Time to be gracious.. Um. Hey Congrats on stepping up your writing.
Get cloned real soon, ya hear?
Cheers…
I’ll miss you. Thanks for everything, and enjoy the next level.
; (
I guess that now I’ve got no choice but to download and listen to every Bat Segundo I haven’t heard. But what then, Ed, where will I go after that?
Thank you for all the RoR. I’ll miss it dearly.
Antoine
Ed,
We will miss you! But I completely understand. As fun as blogging can be, it does require mental energy which takes up brain space that can otherwise be used for other projects. And your blog got you where you want to be — writing and recording pieces on the literary world.
Somehow I don’t think this is really the end. If it is, good luck. If not, come back after you’ve taken a long rest. It’s OK if you are not as angry as you used to be. We’ll still enjoy your posts.
Ed, my man, along with Maud you (unknowingly) goaded me into entering the Lit Blog Cabal, and you and you alone got the first people headed to the original and generally unloved Rake’s Progress.
And at the hour of your farewell you managed to get in one last plug for your old pal. You magnificent bastard.
I said it back then and I sez it again: To Ed: il miglior fabbro.
And I forgot to say: happy holidaze & may your 2008 be grreat, as Antoine-le-tigre’d say.
Well I’m sad to see it go. I mean, who’s going to link to Wet Asphalt now? Really, did you think about me at all when you made this decision?
But seriously, thanks for all the great blogging! See you around the big city…
So what should I read now that ROTR is gone? I need a top 10 list, guys! Don’t recommend The Elegant Variation. I know about that one already.
I’m sorry to hear that Ed, but I will be looking for your new ventures so keep us posted!
It’s been fun, Ed. Best of luck on the novel, Segundo, and other projects…don’t be a stranger.
[And don't think you'll be able to lose the blog-bug that quickly.
]
I will miss this blog. I was addicted. It’s as if cigarettes decided to quit me.
Sorry to see you go dude. I really enjoy your blog and podcast.
Glad to see that your keeping up Segundo though.
Good luck and happy holidays
Dammit! I love reading this blog. Good luck, Ed!
Well, duh. Anybody who had taken the TIME to read Nostradamus’ corpus would have know that this was written.
Also, did you ever notice that Ed Rants is an anagram for “End Arts”
?
!
Au revoir, Ed. Thanks for the handful of shout-outs that I hardly deserved, plus the beer you bought me at House of Shields and the not-so-subtle nudge towards finishing my damned novel already. Don’t be a stranger, you hear?
How selfish. What about the little people?
Best of luck Ed. I do hope the site will alert and link us to whatever you publish. I’m also glad you’ll be doing the podcasts. Now go and write. The world needs more good novels and plays.
Look at this – http://www.edrants.com/?p=2
(via http://www.stevenwbeattie.com/)
Does this mean some other blogger has sold his fresh new soul to the devil in a deal to promote Jonathan Ames?
good job doing a lot of things ed
What a kick in the groin. Will follow your future endeavors with interest. Wishing you great success Ed.
A toast to our favorite blogger! Cheers to your next great adventure.
Oooh, a NOVEL. Get it out, boy, get it out. And many thanks for your kind encouragement of my journalistic efforts. The correspondence was greatly appreciated. Got my eye on you, Edmund.
Curse you, Fogelberg!
Real conversations about books and writing, without the schmarm of sell, sell, sell. I’m sorry I’m so far behind that I just discovered this after you decided to quit. Bat Segundo contributes more to the understanding and appreciation of today’s literature than any other site I’ve found. Woe is me.
Sam Tanenhaus will, no doubt, be pleased.
Best of luck, Ed. I’m so jealous I could spit.
Happy Blogging Retirement to you! And I hope to see you on the other side with a wonderful book.
I’m sure there’s a quotation from Paradise Lost that applies here, but I’m too disappointed to go find it.
At this announcement, your followers seem to have broken up into frightened groups, each confused in its own way. Some believe you are changing the name of your blog; others will miss Bat Segundo. My own theory is that, following Bat’s example, you are taking holy orders. Everything else will stay the same.
Good luck, Ed!
Thanks for all the blogging, Ed.
Well, I’m depressed.
But I’ll try not to make this about me, so good for you and good luck!
I’ll miss you, Ed. Now I’ll have nothing to read but my own Book News. I’m so sick of myself I could just throw up all over everyone else.
All the best to you Ed!
Thanks for all the delightful work you did here –I too will miss it.
Boo! Boo! Boo!
Sad day in the blogosphere. You will most definitely be missed. Best of luck, Ed.
xxoo, tHB
Yours was the site I’d always check first…lots of amazing literary coverage, humor, inspiration, and honesty… (And now, apparently, I have to revert to sad speechlessness.)
But this will be your next step up–more time to devote to the creative and demanding personal work you’ve dreamed of. Congratulations on all you’ve accomplished here and all the best to you in your current (and future) endeavors!
Ana María
Well, I wouldn’t recommend that anyone give up anything to write a novel, unless he really has to. What’s more, I’ll echo the others above who say yours was one of the very very few I read regularly and find both informative and provocative. I don’t even know what a podcast is, so this is a loss for me.
Congratulations! As Longfellow wrote, ‘All things must change to something new, to something strange.’ May your free time be used wisely. We’ll miss you here, but look for you elsewhere. (Perhaps in Brooklyn this summer…?)