The August Subscriber Special
I’ve been so gratified by the responses many of you have have offered to my recent posts about my relationship to my father. Already, I know these essays are going to be my next book; we’re approaching half a collections’s worth even now. How and with whom I go about publishing that book may be determined by what happens on this site. I’m honored and delighted to find myself on the adventure with you.
With that in mind, I’m recommitting to making this place as visible and dynamic a destination for reading and exchanging ideas and comments as I know how. Therefore, in the interests of enticing more of you to subscribe in any way that’s meaningful and comfortable for you, I’m offering the following:
For the entire month of August, anyone who either purchases or renews an ANNUAL subscription (I’ve reduced the rate to $40, the minimum Substack will allow) will receive YOUR CHOICE of a personally inscribed copy of either of my last two books, Infinity Dreams or Tell Me When I Disappear.
Plus, you know, full access to the deep and freshly reorganized archives —see Site Guide/Table of Contents below— and the knowledge that you’re making more of my work here possible and my deep and heartfelt thanks, etc.
But wait, Glen, what if I really want to support your work, and buy a Lifetime Subscription? Well, faithful subscriber, in that case, let me offer all of the above, plus inscribed copies of BOTH books. With an extra helping of profound gratitude.
And..,you say there’s even more??
Why yes, there is.
If you refer someone who becomes a paying subscriber, and that person mentions you when subscribing…you both get copies of the books.
Shipping is on me. International subscribers, all of the above applies to you, but I will have to ask for a bit of extra help to cover mailing costs. We’ll work it out.
I probably will offer new premiums periodically, possibly monthly.
Thank you all. And now:
An Accidental Manifesto
Yesterday, out walking, we ran into our neighbor and his (disturbingly) well-behaved beagle. (No, really, well-behaved to the point of barely-beagle. Invasion of the Body Snatchers pod-beagle.) My neighbor asked what I was working on, and I told him a bit about my essays about my dad.
“Oh!” he said, in that voice I’ve gotten so used to hearing. Have heard all my professional writing life, from so many people. Not least from friends and family. The So, it’s not horror this time! voice. The then-maybe-I’ll-read-that! voice.
Then he grinned. “So no one dies in those, then.”
Other than my dad, I didn’t quite answer. Nor did I say any of the rest of what follows in the moment. But I’m saying it to you:
Genre, in art, isn’t just a marketing tool; it’s a way of controlling and limiting your— our—experience. A method of herding us into pens, then convincing us that we only like being there. That it’s safe there. That nothing outside our pens is anything we want to meet.
Lots of artists I know are casting a concerned glance toward the A.I.-driven future. The concern, I think, is merited, but not because A.I. will soon be able to create passably diverting stories or shows or music or films. The real threat is that people who consume stories and shows and music and films and art will accept the substitution. Because it’s just easier. Because their algorithms assure them they’ll like the fabrication just as much, as long as its paranormal romance, or literature, or hard sf, or cozy, or… (fill in genre of supposed choice)…
Me? I think— in fact, I’ve bet my professional life, maybe my whole life—that people actually respond to other people, and the art people make, not a list of predetermined specifications.
This whole site is me putting my money and work where my mouth is. If you like what you read here, I’m willing to bet you’d like what people call my horror, and my ghost stories.
And if you like my horror and ghost stories? I kinda think you might find what you’re appreciating about those in every single piece of writing here.
Obviously, I hope that’s true. Even more, I love and am grateful for the opportunity to talk about and share it with you.
And so, beloved readers, let me introduce:
THE HAPPY IN OUR OWN WAYS TABLE OF CONTENTS AND USER’S GUIDE
Part of what subscribers get here is permanent access to the archives on this site, which have become substantial and deep. So I thought it might be helpful to lay out and organize the various posts and projects for ease of perusing.
Please note that this is only a partial listing. I will be adding to and updating this list monthly.
Many of these projects are ongoing. But here is both a sampling of what’s here for subscribers, and a suggested order of reading for each individual set of linked posts:
A BITTERSWEET, KEENING GONENESS
This is my continuing series of essays about my relationship with my late father, Jerry Hirshberg, and our shared and separate relationships to art we loved and/or made. Though they stand individually, they are read most impactfully in order:
Part One: A Bittersweet, Keening Goneness
Part Four: The Meaning of Life, Period
Part Six: Nothing Can Prepare You
ALL HAPPY PEOPLE (Fiction)
This is a complete book’s worth of novellas focused on the possibilities for and varieties of sustained adult joy and/or fulfillment, as well as its costs. They are not ghost stories…although god knows there are ghosts in them. For theoretically obvious reasons— their length, their deceptive quiet, their (mis)perceived distance from the fiction I’m best known for— they are not easy stories to place through traditional outlets. They may be the best things I’ve done.
If you’re asking me, anyway. Which you probably shouldn’t. Because who cares what I think?
Though each novella stands alone, they are intended to be read as a set, in the suggested order below. Right now, three of these four stories are only available here:
We Are Sitting in a Room (Pt. 1)
We Are Sitting in a Room (Pt. 2)
THOUGHTS ON WRITING (DISGUISED AS THOUGHTS ON TEACHING WRITING)
Collected below are an ongoing series of posts about pretty much everything I know about the writing life. Included are rejections/reexaminations of writing truisms, techniques and tips, interviews with colleagues and former students, and more. Perhaps the most popular of these have been the Not-Floundering Friday posts, which offer cold but companionable comfort for confronting the realities of dedicating your life to the world’s best work and worst profession.
Almost another book here, already. Hmm…
In reverse-chronological order:
Thoughts on Writing, Disguised as Thoughts on Teaching Writing
Maxim Monday #1: Glen vs. Writing What You Know
Technique Tuesday #1: Character vs. Caricature
Not-Floundering Friday #1: On Learning to Love (and Fight) Feeling Small
Maxim Monday #2: Glen vs. Showing and Telling
Technique Tuesday #2: On Showing Effectively
Not-Floundering Friday #2: An Interview with Antonio Stefan
Maxim Monday #3: Glen vs. The Labour
Technique Tuesday #3: More Better Showing
Not-Floundering Friday #3: On The Fantasy of Literary Stardom
Maxim Monday #4: Glen vs. Routines (That Aren’t Yours)
Technique Tuesday #4: On Dialogue (or, Pass the Salt)
Not-Floundering Friday #4: On Goals That Don’t Kill You
Maxim Monday #5: Glen vs. Writing the Book You Want to Read. Sort of.
Technique Tuesday #5: More on Dialogue: A Gaming Module
Not-Floundering Friday #5: The Money Quandary
Maxim Monday #6: Glen vs. Knowing Your Audience
Technique Boo-sday #6: The Ghost Story Ingredient List
Not-Floundering Friday #6: On Sustaining That Essential Sensation of Motion
Maxim Monday #7: Glen vs. the Research
Technique Boo-sday #7: The Ghost Story Ingredient List, Pt. 2
Not-Floundering Friday #7: I Love You, Writing, But I’ve Chosen Lightness
Maxim Monday #8: Glen vs. Notebooks
Technique Boo-sday #8: The Ghost Story Ingredient List, Pt. 3
Not-Floundering Friday #8: An Interview with Melissa Sonico
MUSIC WRITING AND ROUND-UPS
Included here are my quarterly playlist/music criticism pieces, plus occasional one-offs and focused features, such as my interview with the wonderful Thomas Anderson:
Spells for Small Things: The May, 2023 Round-Up
The Body is a Party You Want on the Moon: The February, 2023 Round-Up
Skill Sets No One Cares About: The November, 2022 Round-Up
Let Something Heavy Go: The August, 2022 Round-Up
It’s the Twenty-Twenties: The May, 2022 Round-Up
Tiny Brains: The February, 2022 Round-Up
Don’t Bullshit Me: The November, 2021 Found-Up
Lasting and Lethal: On Making Sense of Thomas Anderson
There’s so much more for you to explore as your interest dictates, including close to a whole additional collection of short stories, some more philosophical posts about writing, lots of news about my books, etc. I will be adding all of those to the list above in the coming months.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for being here.