Dear Odyssey

Dear Odyssey organizers,

Thank you for the lovely postcard encouraging me to attend Odyssey in order to "improve my Science Fiction, Fantasy, or Horror writing."  While I am grateful to be thought of, I think that a six-week workshop costing $1900 (plus room and board) is perhaps a little more than is strictly necessary to take my fiction writing to the "next level" when the movement in question is from the level of "totally nonexistent" to the admittedly important level of "producing even one sentence, no matter how awful."

I am also a little puzzled by your metaphor:

"...strap yourself to the mast this summer and attend..."

While I recognize the reference to your namesake poem (and assume it metaphorical since your location in Manchester, New Hampshire, is not easily reached by sea), I feel that it sends an odd message to the prospective student.  In the scene in question Odysseus is tied to the mast so that he may hear the song of the Sirens and not respond to it by jumping into the ocean and drowning himself.  Is the prospect of writing as a career the Siren song that one pursues only at the risk of self-destruction?  If the student is placed in the role of Odysseus, are the instructors intended to be the Sirens, whom it is dangerous to hear and fatal to respond to?  That seems to suggest that the student should attend in order to listen to the instructors' tempting advice, but under no circumstances follow it.  Or are the instructors the sailors with their ears plugged, made immune to the Siren song themselves and serving to convey Odysseus past the Sirens and ignore his pleas, tying him more tightly when he attempts to respond?  Would that make the Siren song the temptation to use a vanity press?   Or some other hazard on the road to publication?

Metaphorical tangles aside, while I am not personally conservative or easily shocked, I feel that even the suggestion of bondage games with publishing professionals may create a certain wariness in many of your potential attendees.

Sincerely yours,

Susan de Guardiola

P.S. While I realize that noted authors, agents, and editors are above such trivial concerns as proofreading, I can't help but think that I would be more enthusiastic about accepting criticism of my writing from people who get my name right on the mailing label.

Comments

[Serge]

People should never be cute about mythology without first considering the implications of their metaphors. That being said... What did they turn your name into? I don't get how people can mangle your name, but never mine (at least when they WRITE it).

[Serge]

One more thing... Considering that the Odyssey was about someone who takes 10 years to reach his destination, it may not be the best comparison for their workshop to make.

[Sorcyress]

But Susan, don't you want to be a GOOD FAMOUS WRITER?!

Also, Serge, you would be surprised at the ability of people to mangle names. I would expect "Susan" to make it through okay, but "de Guardiola"? Hell, I had to check to make sure I spelled it right, and I actually know her!

~Sor

[xeger]

Perhaps it was intended as a fantasy about the horror of writing science fiction? ;)

[Serge]

Sorcyress... I would expect "Susan" to make it through okay

This reminds me of some friends back in my Toronto days. One, called Alex von Thorne, once had his named mangled by a masquerade emcee into Alex Longhron. My favorite was the time another masquerade emcee turned Martin Miller into Marvin Milner.

[Marilee J. Layman]

Erm, I know an Alex von Thorne from Toronto.

[Serge]

Marilee... It's probably the same Alex.

[Paul A.]

On ill-fitting mythological analogies: I once read a revenge-fantasy novel in which one of the characters is an overworked and underappreciated graphic designer working for a manager-from-hell who claims all the credit and shifts all the blame. Due to a series of implausible events this margin is too small to contain, he gains an opportunity to leave for a better prospect elsewhere, but first feels obliged to see out the current project, which is to come up with a new branding concept for an airline. So he hits on the idea of suggesting to his manager - knowing that if he really sells the idea, the manager will tell the client she came up with it herself - that the airline should adopt as its emblem "Icarus, the Greek god of flight".

[Serge]

Paul A...

"Our product is so great that it's like Prometheus's gift of Fire to Mankind."

We'll just skip the part about the gift being something he stole from someone else. We'll also gloss over the part about his then having his liver eaten by an eagle.

[Clifton]

Advertising slogans? My mother once told me that during her youth, Air France adopted as its advertising motto "Take a chance with Air France" - during a period when they had had several major air crashes.

[Serge]

Speaking of another strange application of Mythology... I never quite understood why there is a brand of condoms called Trojans, considering that the Trojan Horse is famous as a way to sneak past strong defenses.

[Neil W]

I never quite understood why there is a brand of condoms called Trojans, considering that the Trojan Horse is famous as a way to sneak past strong defenses.

I get it!

I assume Odyssey are avoiding telling us about it taking 10 years to get where we wanted to go. Which is back where we started before we wasted 10 years laying seige to the strongest fortifications in the world*, annoyed Poseidon in breaking the seige**, and so were forced to spend 10 years wandering the world***. Penelope here represents a publishing contract; we know what we have to do with all the other suitors.

* A metaphor for our day-job?
** In this case I guess Poseidon is analogous to our muse, which our dayjob has stifled.
*** Here standing in for our struggles as a writer to acquire the fame and recognition that is rightfully ours.

[Serge]

Neil W... Dare I ask what the metaphorical significance of Circé might be? Odysseus's crew winds up eating stuff off a pig's auger and liking it, but I can't see any parallel between that and one's day job.