Racism in a Workshop or Just Another Weak Writer Incapable of Criticism: A Reaction to Rani Neutill

I read an article recently I thought was absolute dog shit. I mean this is the type of writing you don’t want to step in, and when you do, you want to dig it out with a stick.

It was posted over on Long Reads and is written by Rani Neutill. First off, I’ll give credit where credit is due – the piece is well-written. It is clear this writer is talented in the art of the word and spent, a long damn time, writing her article – hence it being crucified over on Long Reads.

But that’s it.

The message is junkie blood splatted on the ceiling of a roach material, rust colored and ripe with Hepatitis C.

The name of the article is, “The Psychiatrist in My Writing Class and His ‘Gift’ of Hate.” And the tag line, I kid you fucking not is – Rani Neutill recalls a literary workshop in which a white man critiqued her ability to write in ‘proper’ English.

What the fuck?!

The first few paragraphs are fantastically written, capturing the writing room with amazing detail. I was hooked. And then she went down the path of no return, going completely woke and racist in a single line. She says, “All my classmates are white.”

BIG FUCKING DEAL!!!

You live in the United States and go to school in New England of all places, what the hell did you expect?

I don’t understand, how in this day and age, calling people out on their race isn’t racism? If I wrote the same article about the horrors of a critique group by proclaiming, “All my classmates were black.”

People would be pissed.

“All my class mates were asshole transgenders.”

The LGBTQ whatever, whatever would hang me from the nearest lamp post by my dick!

The rest of the article is about how this poor, poor woman was discriminated against by a ‘white’ dude because he questioned her grammar and language abilities in a story. Guess what babe, this happens to EVERYONE in a critique group and has nothing to do with racism, but your horrible fucking writing skills.

The way she writes reminds of those stuck up pieces of shit in writing classes that think they’re the next big thing, crafting the mega-masterpieces of this generation. The type of people who can’t stand it when someone points out the issues in their stories without loosing their minds.

I had a class where a Nazi-like Feminist ripped my story apart in front of the entire class for 45 minutes and I didn’t give a fuck. In fact, it made me stronger as a writer, because now I can take anything. This one dude in this class broke this woman like a witch on a medieval torture rack.

She’s still fucking crying about it.

The rest of the article jumps between flashbacks showing where this stuff comes from – turns out she’s a Bengali immigrant and she struggles with her identity and language. So she goes off on this one, poor dude because she’s insecure about herself.

Its sad.

And like I said, there isn’t a writer on this planet whose taken a writer’s workshop who hasn’t been lambasted for poor grammar and horrible writing. That’s why you go so you can grow and improve as a writer. But I guess that slipped past her while attending a fucking class in New England.

Newsflash Rani, not all whites are racist! You clearly are, because you can’t see past neither your ego or the skin color of your classmates.

I swear, she goes off on this dude in her head. Of course, she doesn’t have the spine to stand up for herself in the class, but instead holds it in so she can further fuel the victim fire in her twisted mind. I won’t link to the article, because it is utter trash.

Not in the writing, like I said, it is well written. Very well written if I’m to be honest (better than this rant, that’s for sure). But I don’t support hate speech or racist authors no matter how good they are. You can Google it. You’ll find it.

And if Rani reads this – get a fucking life you clown. Stop seeing everything through the eyes of a victim and be strong.

Do keep writing, because you are very good at it – and if one dude can break you so easily, how will you deal with this or other people hating on your work, because it will happen. And does.

I also hope you can learn to stop being a victim and seeing those around you, who may look differently, as the enemy.

Be happy.

Be proud of yourself and your culture.

And stop being a damn racist.

Big Story Coming

Its been awhile since my last post, sorry to leave you all hanging like an old man’s ball sack, but I’ve been busy writing, selling, and doing tricks for my Pimp.

Anyway – I got a big story about to drop here, a super long post about a recent book signing I had at the Frisco Library. It was a cool event, with a ton of local authors of various success, all selling their shit.

I didn’t sell any shit.

My books sat, unloved, on the table as a bunch of people walked by without barely any reaction outside of the disgusted variety. But I understand why – this wasn’t my audience! I need horror fans. I need paranormal fans. I need people who are open minded and want a book that doesn’t fit easily into a category and when read, blows your fucking face off!

The highlight or low light, depending on your view point, was an encounter with a holier-than-thou Christian nut case. And boy, oh, boy is it an interesting story! And it will be told, at length, very soon here. I’ve already written a 1000 words on it and need to edit it and fine tune it before publishing it here.

But stay tuned.

I’m also going to be doing a few blogs talking about the state of horror in the literary world and of course all the stigmas that come along with writing horror.

Thanks so much.

Here is a link to my book.

Here is a link to my short story.

Become a Rhino

One thing you need to have in order to be a successful writer is a thick skin. First of all, let me just say, you’ll never make it in this business if you’re thin skinned. Why? Because not everyone is going to like your book.

Some people will say it sucks.

I remember when I self-published my first book, HOLY CRAP AND THE JUDGMENT DAY BLUES, over on Amazon – I was excited. I couldn’t wait to put my baby out there for mass consumption. In my head, I believed it would be this awesome bestseller and the reviews would all be spectacular. And while it sold, the few copies I managed to push, I waited for the praise to come rolling in.

The wait was agonizing in and of itself, but when the first ones came in, I was thrilled. I got a handful of four and five star reviews! I was on cloud nine, floating above the world on wings of pure amber. And then, like Icarus, I flew to close to the sun and got burned. I fell from the sky like the Fallen Star and hit the earth with my first negative review.

One fucking star. It was like getting shot.

When I read the comments, I was enraged. I wanted to email the reviewer and curse them out, I wanted to blow up their house and set fire to their children. I wanted payback. I remember reading the review a handful of times with my blood boiling – I even started writing a response to their heartless review. How dare they criticize my book and point out its flaws!

And then I stopped.

What was the point writing these people back? I mean, art is subjective. What works for one person isn’t going to work for another person, right? Some grammar errors easily overlooked by one person might really throw a person for a loop and take them right out of the story. It wasn’t the reviewers fault they didn’t like the book, it was mine as the author. Their points were as valid as the positive ones and I had to embrace that.

I stopped writing the hateful response. I calmed down. Not entirely, I mean when I go back and re-read it I still get a little upset. Its like you’re showing off you baby at work when one of your colleagues comes over and says, “That’s one ugly fucking baby.”

I will tell you more of my encounters with bad reviews and critiques in the upcoming blogs, but I thought I’d share this little bit of a truth nugget. Be ready for it, is all I’m saying. And if you can’t take negative feedback, don’t publish. Because you’re going to get it in fucking spades, especially on the internet.

Ride out your emotion. Know its okay to be disappointed and saddened by bad reviews. Hell, get mad. But then absorb it, take it in and analyze it carefully, constructively, and with an open mind and a gentle heart.

Then grow.

And if you run into them in the real world, punch them in the face.

Tear the Wall Down

This is going to piss people off, and you know what, I don’t care. What I’m about to say needs to not only be heard, but accepted. Are you listening?

Good.

Inclusivity is bullshit.

There has been a major push in recent years for all artistic mediums to be more inclusive. Agents in major publishing houses are now actively looking for under represented writers for their author lists instead of good books written by talented creators. There is an active demand for books with gay romances at their core, transgender main characters, and more diversity in a book’s cast of characters. Usually this stuff doesn’t bother me, I could care less about the gender or race of a character (or writer), so long as the story is good.

But that isn’t what’s happening.

Agents, editors, even writers – have now and gone putting political agendas and ideologies at the forefront of their work rather than carefully weaving it into a beautifully crafted narrative. The character’s trait isn’t three-dimensional, but solely based on their sexual orientation or racial identity.

And its bullshit.

When I was kid growing up in the 80’s, I was tall and extremely skinny.

I was jealous of toothpicks.

People thought I was dying of testicular cancer and my balls hadn’t even dropped yet. Back then, heroes in comics and films were massive body builder types like Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester Stallone, Hulk Hogan, and fucking Mr. T. I never looked at these icons and thought, “Where is my representation? Where is a skinny, sickly fuck to save the world?”

Comics were no different.

And you know what, I didn’t give a damn so long as the story they told was captivating.

People forget why we read, watch movies, and dive headlong into a videogame. It isn’t to find my representation or someone who looks like me. But to escape.

I used to live in China, during the whole Harry Potter craze. And I kid you not, everyone in China was reading those books, and getting lost in the adventures of some of the whitest fucking characters ever be put to page.

Do you think they gave a shit there weren’t many Asian characters in the book to relate to? Fuck no. They loved the adventure, the magic, and the world created by J.K. Rowling. Do blacks get upset that there are no black hobbits in Lord of the Rings? Do Latino’s bitch and moan that their aren’t more Latino’s in in Star Trek? No, because the story being told is great.

The only people who get upset are sad, sacks of shit whose entire identity is based on their race, gender, or sexual orientation. The rest of us can let go and enjoy stories told about other races and sexes with reckless abandon. When I watched the Color Purple, I don’t sit there going – where’s the fucking white dude!? I got lost in the tale and expertly written characters.

And those saying, “We need more Asian representation in movies,” are fucking dumb. China, Japan, and Korea have a rich, thriving film industry that produces great content for that demand. Hell, you want to watch good zombie flicks stop watching the bullshit made in the US and start watching Korean programs like the Train to Busan or Kingdom! The Walking Dead has nothing on these properties.

And if you want to talk about representation, I saw a bunch of movies while living in China, and in those movies white characters are always either villains or fucking retarded. Sure, I rolled my eyes more times than I would want while watching a Chinese film, but it never offended me. I’m still a huge fan of Chinese Sword Fantasies and Hong Kong cinema from the late 80’s and 90’s.

If you want to be a good writer, create characters that fit your narrative and make them interesting, with flaws and goals and a fucking character arch! If you have political ideas you want to explore, do it smartly – like Orwell in 1984 or John Carpenter’s They Live. It can be done. And it can be done creatively and effectively.

As a writer, as a fucking artist, don’t feel pressured to twist your nipples to add diversity or inclusivity into the book your writing. Just write. And write well. In my novel, Holy Crap and the Judgment Day Blues, I have a gay protagonist. I didn’t do it to get woke points or for some political agenda, I did it because it fit the narrative.

So write.

Create.

And remember, inclusivity is bullshit.

The “Wretched” Black Listed

My novel, at the time of writing this piece, has been black listed by Barnes and Noble. They have given me no explanation to their hasty decision to remove my book from their website after being previously approved.

As a young writer, imagine how excited I was to see my book being offered on Barnes and Noble. I told everyone to check it out. I screamed it from the roof tops until my neighbors called the police (the bastards).

It was on the site for one day.

One.

My publisher and I both believe it was because of the controversial cover, which pokes fun at the Satanic Bible. Besides a small, purple dildo in the far left hand corner, there isn’t anything that vile about the cover – nothing worthy of being black listed from their website. I saw a book being sold there called “Not your Phocking Motivational Coach,”by Jenna Jameson showing a man sticking his face in his teacher’s ass.

Let me repeat that in case you missed it – a man sticking his head in his teacher’s ass!

My book is not okay, but that is perfectly fine to be sold in their stores. And there are other examples.

The novel “Snuff” by Chuck Palahniuk has a sex doll’s mouth on the cover and follows a woman experiencing her first gang bang (its a good book). They sell Hentai books like this one and a book called the “Haunted Vagina,” but my book about redemption and forgiveness is too vile, too disgusting to be sold on their precious platform.

When they have a book called, “Big Dicked Woman Meets the Man with a Vagina,” they lose all fucking creditably.

So please continue to support my novel over on Amazon. At least they got balls.

And so it goes.

A Real Big Blog In the Butt

The hardest thing about keeping a blog is the creation of content on a regular basis. There is a real pressure there to write, write, write.

Write what?

This is the hard part – trying to think of something interesting to say, something to inspire a click or a read or a visit from some random stranger on the endless byways of the internet between YouTube clips and pornography.

Truth be told, I have no fucking idea.

My last blog talking about bullying seemed to strike a cord with people, so is that what I should focus on – my miserable, fucked up life at the end of some piece of shit’s boot?

Not tonight.

Instead, I will inform you all of my new SCI-FI, YA novel I’m working on called Threshold and how this damn thing is slowly killing me. I’m over 50,000 words in and a big, fat ugly wall known as Writer’s Block decided to settle itself between me and my creative self.

Slowly, very slowly, I’ve been working through it – chiseling through the bedrock like
Andy Dufresne did his cell wall in Shawshank Redemption. I’ve crawled through the shit, just like him, and appear to be on the way out of the tunnel – I see before me the light of the story’s conclusion, and now push forward with renewed vigor.

The end draws nigh.

I’m shooting for 80 to 85,000 words and believe I can get there soon if the story continues to flow better.

I want to finish the book, this first draft, within the next month or two. After that, I will start shopping around for an agent and from there, make my millions of dollars.

And so it goes.