Nick Mamatas, following the comment thread over at the Josh Olsen “I won’t read your script” Village Voice article, comes up with this whopper of a comment, from “Bierce_Bitchslap”:
There’s thousands of writers in America – especially in the fly-over states – who will never have a chance at getting prestige status in their niche of the professional writing industry. That doesn’t mean they aren’t good writers. It has far more to do with proximity than talent.
Oh, it’s true. This is why, from my compound in rural Ohio, I have never managed to sell a novel, or win an award, or show up on a bestseller list, or work on a television series. And if you think I have it rough, please spare a thought for that poor bastard Neil Gaiman, living as he does in the wilds outside Minneapolis. Why, that’s almost Canada. It’s a miracle he can feed his family anything other than the grubs he can pull out of tree bark.
Hey, writers! If you are looking for an outside rationalization to explain why you are not yet clutching an Oscar/Pulitzer/Hugo and a trophy spouse/groupie/willing goat, and give you the excuse you need to stop trying and retire to a life of bitterness/alcoholism/World of Warcraft, you will always find one, and it will always work. Whether it’s actually true is something else entirely. But, then rationalizations don’t have to be true, they just need to let you feel it’s not your fault you gave up.
And now I’m off for the rest of the day, to stew in my anger that Ohio is keeping me down.