Thanksgiving is over. Let’s talk pure, unadulterated rage. One of the most interesting things to happen in Twitter land lately has been the hate Book Twitter leveled onto Jonathan Franzen after he released his 10 Rules for Novelists on Lit Hub. Man, people fucking hate Jonathan Franzen. Shortly after a solid round of hate, I saw almost as many tweets asking, “Why do people fucking hate Jonathan Franzen so much?” So let’s briefly examine that hate, and then let’s follow it with rules for hating writers who make lists for other writers.
So, why … Well, there are a few things to run through quickly. Franzen wrote an article way back for Harper’s sort of railing on experimental fiction and television. A few years later, he had a much more famous “feud” of sorts with Oprah Winfrey because she chose one of his books for her book club. And then, a few years after that, a couple of prominent female writers took issue with Franzen and the misogyny in the publishing industry. The result? Well, Franzen managed to piss off lit snobs who write experimental fiction, book lovers who hate book snobs, and women. Add those things to the fire of jealousy burning within most of us because of how successful he is, and there aren’t a ton of people left to like you.
I, personally, do not have a strong opinion of Franzen. Or at least, I didn’t. But this whole thing has wildly interested me. I read the now infamous list, and … damn, son. I mean, other than the accompanying photo where Franzen douche-eyes the camera, I still had nothing personal against the guy. But some of those rules. “Fiction that isn’t an author’s personal adventure into the frightening or the unknown isn’t worth writing for anything but money.” Gag. This is the type of person who takes little league games too seriously. You know what I do sometimes when I write? I have fun. I write things because they’re fun. Another rule: “It’s doubtful that anyone with an Internet connection at his workplace is writing good fiction.” So … nobody then? Because … 2018.
And I hear you out there. Oh, he’s not so bad. I was right there with you, friend. Give the guy a chance. And then an article came out in the New York Times about all the hate Franzen gets and how he’s “Fine With All of It.” Jeeeezus. Just read it. He gets interviewed at his oceanfront home in Santa Cruz and talks about: the apartment he keeps in Manhattan, his “spousal equivalent,” their mixed doubles matches, and their personal trainer. The article details how Franzen’s against Twitter, political correctness as a weapon, self-promotion, and ending phone calls with “I love you.” (And it implied how we should all get off his lawn.) But it talked about how he is OBVIOUSLY NOT a snob because he watches The Killing, Orphan Black, and Big Little Lies. It’s a lot. And you should totally read it. Because I promise I didn’t hate on Franzen too much until I read the article about why I shouldn’t hate on Franzen too much.
In the spirit of my newfound hate, let’s set some ground rules on when it’s okay to hate on writers who make lists for other writers.
Anything you can douche, I can douche better.
When the list is created out of a sense of self-importance rather than a true nature of wanting to help other writers, I will hate that list.
When the list makes assumptions from a place of elitism, I will hate that list.
When the list is dismissive of people who hustle everyday and work day jobs and raise kids and scrape to pay bills and fight to get noticed and write because they have to or want to or have fun doing it, I will hate that list.
When a list pretends that there is only one path to great writing or success or fulfillment as a writer, I will hate that list.
When a list is presented from upon high instead of from within the trenches with other writers fighting for it along with them, I will hate that list.
Does the Franzen hate stem from jealousy? Yeah. Probably. But my hate for that list is pure eye-rolling, gagging disgust for some total bullshit. And yes, Jonathan Franzen knows way more than I do about good fiction. He’s a better writer than I am. But none of that means he’s not being an asshole.
Matt Coleman writes mysteries and comedy. Both of his novels (Juggling Kittens and Graffiti Creek) have too many bad words for his mom’s liking. Matt also writes about TV, pop culture, and (mostly) indie books for PureFandom.com and Book Riot. Follow him on Twitter @coleman_matt, learn more about him at mattcolemanbooks.com, or contact him at matt.coleman@outlook.com.