Fast-Food Writing vs Epicurean Vision

Before going further into this post, I want to say there is nothing wrong with fast food. It’s quick, cheap, and fills you up.

Sometimes a quick convenience is what you’re looking for.

I’m not talking about food, of course, but writing, as this is a writing-related post.

I recently read The Artisan Author by Johnny B. Truant, and I must say that’s exactly what I envisioned for my writing. I first heard of this ideological framework for writing when I listened to a Creative Penn podcast last year, when Joanna Penn interviewed him.

This idea is refreshing and what the indie sphere was supposed to be all along. The term originates from fellow Colorado Springs/Monument author Kevin J. Anderson. So, every time I use this term, it is not mine.

That being said, an artisan author is focused on the art above everything else, and while they can write quickly to market and pump out books, they mustn’t do so if they want a higher-craft-level book.

I’m not trying to write some modern Doc Savage story where the brawny himbo saves the busty damsel from the monster-of-the-week plot.

This is just not what I do.

My works touch on the metaphysical aspects of reality, existential questions, the true meaning of the quest for enlightenment and fulfillment, and philosophy.

These subjects are not fit for such stories because they tackle in-depth themes. Don’t get me wrong. There are short stories that also do such a thing, and some of them are powerful.

But I can’t fit a treatise on Nietzsche versus St. Augustine into such a work.

These questions must be developed over the course of the long-haul process.

 As an artisan author, you’re free to envelop the span of wackiness to seriousness in any way you damn well please and in how long it takes to get that across.

My first novel took me three years to write, as I did not have the time to squeeze it in during everyday sessions all the time.

But it turned out the way it did because of the countless (okay, like 30) drafts it took to get it where it is now.

I hope this story takes off someday soon in the same way the recent Artemis rocket took off and stayed in the celestial realm around the moon for a while.

I believe in that story and series with all my being.

After reading the previously mentioned author-craft-level book, I’ve chosen to put out two novels a year. I must knock it down to two novels a year (with this year being an exception), because my intended depth will never come out in spreading my craft so thin.

This does not mean I won’t randomly drop novels out of the blue, as I’m working on multiple throughout the year.

There was also a recent collective experience I had that had been like God (the universe, fate, etc.) telling me to slow down and that I don’t have to burn myself out to be worth something. I believe in working hard, but there is also a time for recharging the batteries of the Muses so they charge my brain with their interspersed ideas.

The “Rapid Release” model is amazing if you want to go through the drive-through and get your meal in a jiffy.

But it can burn you out quickly, and your joy might become a sizzling lava flow that no amount of coffee and water could ever hope to put out.

The artisan method is slower, but only in the sense that the art is important. I have some things to say, and while I’m toning down my political takes for poetical takes—since readers don’t care to hear my non-expert opinions on divisive issues—this means my art will speak, not rushing things.

There are so many musicians I respect that don’t rush out music until it’s perfect and meant for the world to hear. You might get an album every two or four years.

Juggernauts like Stephen King put out a book or two a year, meaning he’s not in a rush trying to force execrable words onto the page.

Maas, Abercrombie, and all the names are often the same way.

Rothfuss and Martin are the exceptions even to this slower approach, though. No shade, but wow, it has been a long, long time.

Then again, authors don’t owe us anything. It will come when it comes.

Anyway, it’s an interesting read and a refreshing take on the notion that we must release books as fast as Burger King gives a burger.

Sometimes, we need to sit down at a restaurant and enjoy the flavorful chef’s burger, crafted with artisanal care, and it makes us wait over five or ten minutes.

I enjoy a restaurant burger or a well-crafted homemade burger far more than picking one up at a fast-food restaurant.

My personal take is that I don’t want to make a soap opera out of daytime-television-style storytelling with cheap drama. I want to make Interstellar.

You know what I mean?

Happy writing!

"And with this pen I thee wed from my heart to your distress."
— Brian Fallon, Handwritten

(This quote is the reason we write for others.)