What do you think?
Rate this book
Why Authors Go Wrong and Other Explanations
This work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important, and is part of the knowledge base of civilization as we know it. This work was reproduced from the original artifact, and remains as true to the original work as possible. Therefore, you will see the original copyright references, library stamps (as most of these works have been housed in our most important libraries around the world), and other notations in the work.
This work is in the public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute this work, as no entity (individual or corporate) has a copyright on the body of the work.
As a reproduction of a historical artifact, this work may contain missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. Scholars believe, and we concur, that this work is important enough to be preserved, reproduced, and made generally available to the public. We appreciate your support of the preservation process, and thank you for being an important part of keeping this knowledge alive and relevant.
This work is in the public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute this work, as no entity (individual or corporate) has a copyright on the body of the work.
As a reproduction of a historical artifact, this work may contain missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. Scholars believe, and we concur, that this work is important enough to be preserved, reproduced, and made generally available to the public. We appreciate your support of the preservation process, and thank you for being an important part of keeping this knowledge alive and relevant.
212 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1919
5 people want to read
About the author
Grant Martin Overton
144 books6 followersGrant Martin Overton (September 19, 1887 - July 4, 1930), American novelist and literary critic, was born in Patchogue, Long Island, N.Y. He attended Blair Academy and spent two years at Princeton (1904-1906). At eighteen he was a reporter on the New York morning Sun; did newspaper work in Denver and San Francisco, shipped before the mast for a voyage around Cape Horn, and returned to the Sun in 1910 as reporter, editorial writer, and editor of the book review section.
Going to George H. Doran, the publisher, in 1922, Overton wrote When Winter Comes to Main Street, Cargoes for Crusoes, and American Nights Entertainment in three successive years, bio-critical essays on American authors (chiefly on the Doran list) no less useful in public libraries for their being glorified publicity. Overton’s novels had a pronounced romantic tinge, as shown by their titles—The Mermaid, and The Thousand and First Night; a fictional account of Walt Whitman’s early years, The Answerer, also took some liberty with history.
He edited a collection of The Word’s One Hundred Best Stories and The World’s 50 Best Short Novels during in his stay with Collier’s as fiction editor (1924-1930). When bad health compelled Overton to live in Santa Fe he acted as consulting editor for the weekly. The Philosophy of Fiction, published two years before his death in New York, at forty-two, was an ambitious (and occasionally rather vague and pretentious) analysis of various novels—Will Cather’s A Lost Lady for one—with discussions of the art of fiction in general, and analysis of an imaginary novel written to illustrate his rules. The book leaned heavily on E. M. Forster’s Aspects of the Novel and Percy Lubbock’s Craft of Fiction, and in its “own slightly American way” was worthy to be set beside them, according to the London Times.
Overton was survived by widow, Clara (Wallace) Overton of Mohawk, N.Y. Looking even younger than his age of forty-two, he was smooth faced, good looking, and always immaculately dressed.
Going to George H. Doran, the publisher, in 1922, Overton wrote When Winter Comes to Main Street, Cargoes for Crusoes, and American Nights Entertainment in three successive years, bio-critical essays on American authors (chiefly on the Doran list) no less useful in public libraries for their being glorified publicity. Overton’s novels had a pronounced romantic tinge, as shown by their titles—The Mermaid, and The Thousand and First Night; a fictional account of Walt Whitman’s early years, The Answerer, also took some liberty with history.
He edited a collection of The Word’s One Hundred Best Stories and The World’s 50 Best Short Novels during in his stay with Collier’s as fiction editor (1924-1930). When bad health compelled Overton to live in Santa Fe he acted as consulting editor for the weekly. The Philosophy of Fiction, published two years before his death in New York, at forty-two, was an ambitious (and occasionally rather vague and pretentious) analysis of various novels—Will Cather’s A Lost Lady for one—with discussions of the art of fiction in general, and analysis of an imaginary novel written to illustrate his rules. The book leaned heavily on E. M. Forster’s Aspects of the Novel and Percy Lubbock’s Craft of Fiction, and in its “own slightly American way” was worthy to be set beside them, according to the London Times.
Overton was survived by widow, Clara (Wallace) Overton of Mohawk, N.Y. Looking even younger than his age of forty-two, he was smooth faced, good looking, and always immaculately dressed.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 of 1 review
March 18, 2021
It has been a pleasure to explore The Gutenberg Project and discover obscure, lost and wonderful books. Why Authors Go Wrong, could have been written today. Overton’s 1919, sarcastic and substantive look at the entire publishing industry is entertaining and informative. Entertaining, because you have to remind yourself it is over a century old. Informative, because it caustically calls out the hypocrisy and luck of popular writing that exists to this day.
Overton is the right guy to pen this “how-not-to” book. He was a journalist, literary critic, editor, and novelist. He worked for the New York Sun, book publisher George H. Doran, and was editor of Colliers. Further, he authored at least ten books and edited collections of short stories.
Over eight chapters, we are exposed to his main point. Yes, the quality of writing and the importance of having something to say, are critical. But do not leave out the impact of critics, reviewers, editors, publishers, and marketing. So much more goes into a book and determines its success. That is why he chooses to cover the craft of writing in the eighth and final chapter. He takes the first seven to prepare any scribe for the business and vagaries of book writing.
The first chapter shares the same title as the book. It’s a primer on what is to come. He provides examples book duds and successes from his day including recognizable names like Ezra Pound to the more obscure, Robert W. Chambers. He answers the question of why authors go wrong paradoxically, by revealing what goes right in a short formula. This covers motivation, purpose, and volume or frequency of writing.
He really has a bone to pick with authors who have had success and then “write for art”. Overton views this segment as fake puritans and pontificators. He writes, “The world may be perverse, but you have to take it as it is. The world may be childish, but none of us will live to see it grow up. If the world thinks you write with the honest and understandable object of making a living it attributes no ulterior motive to you.” Overton is all-in on writing being a career, somewhat a profession, and not at all, a higher calling.
This is a hilarious line, “Can a man serve two masters? Can he serve money and morality? Foolish question No. 58,914! He not only can but he always does when his work is good.”
I needed my thesaurus for chapter two, A Barbaric Yawp. Yawp means, a hoarse cry or yelp. I like it more than yelp and wonder if the restaurant app considered Yawp as its name. Overton is borrowing from Walt Wittman so he himself, may let out a cry. I have read and reread this chapter and am at a loss. It seems to be a colorful rant against America and the American people. Mine may be a wrong summary, but he seems to challenge democracy and the right of less intelligent people to judge the work of others. It reeks of elitism.
This scent carries itself into the third chapter, In The Critical Court. He constructs a mock court for a mock trial of Booth Tarkington. Apparently, it is an ironic examination of how critics get it wrong. How a writer’s work is misinterpreted. Perhaps, it registered when first published, but is less effective today.
After these two offbeat chapters, Overton returns to a more decipherable format with, Book “Reviewing”. He gets rights to it, “Book reviewing is so called because the books are not reviewed, or viewed (some say not even read). They are described with more or less accuracy and at a variable length. They are praised, condemned, weighed, and solved by the use of logarithms. They are read, digested, quoted and tested for butter fat. They are examined, evalued, enjoyed and assessed; criticised, and frequently found fault with (not the same thing, of course).”
The fact that he talks of logarithms, when we now live in a time of algorithms is fascinating. You quickly find that he has no love for the professional reviewer, “Any one can review a book and every one should be encouraged to do it. It is unskilled labor.” His point being, “A book can only be written about or around.” This chapter is by far the longest and soon exhibits diminishing returns and must have lost readers in the first edition but was, probably, cathartic for Overton.
Next up is, Literary Editors, By One of Them. He hops right in by claiming the title is useless. You cannot be both. You are either literary or an editor in his estimation. Overton gets into the meat in, What Every Publisher Knows. The summation, it is about the money. He points out a study from one publisher on their last 1,200 books. Only ten percent made any money. Those offset the break-evens and losses. Publishing is game of numbers in so many ways. You have to have volume and place big bets, that true then and true today.
I am a branding and marketing consultant, as well as a ghostwriter of business books. Overton excels at covering merchandizing and advertising, “Every book that is published requires advertising though perhaps no two books call for advertising in just the same way.” That is so true, formulas do not work. Conventional approaches bypassed. I believe it is about lighting the torch of word of mouth, as elusive as that is.
Chapter Seven, The Secret of the Best Seller, delivers tons of tips that are still relevant. For a time, Overton rails against poor distributorship in the industry. That is, of course, no longer an issue. For him, “There are two secrets of the best seller. One resides in the book itself, the other rests in the manner of its exploitation. One is inherent, the other is circumstantial. One is partly controllable by the publisher, the other is wholly so.”
This issue resonates with me. My experience with the “exploitation” of books by most publishers has been horrible. Publishers are terrible marketers, they are still playing the volume game. I believe the marketing departments within publishers should be best-in-class. They should be profit centers and sell their services to other publishers, if you get my drift. Instead, marketing is an after thought.
Overton nails it 100 years ago with, “Most books are wrongly advertised and inadequately advertised, and rather frequently advertised in the wrong places.” He offers up some amazing tactical ideas, most of which are conventional today but would have been highly original in their time (“making a phonograph record of some effective passage in the book, market the record in the usual way, at a popular price”). He speaks of injecting the book’s marketing with personality. That is still a big, unrealized idea.
He strays into the product itself, suggesting the makeup of a compelling fiction novel. It must be a good story, “with plenty of surface action”. A crisis in the affairs or the most affable characters. A crisis that is satisfactorily solved. Next, give readers depth below the surface action, “for those who care to plumb them”.
Lastly, he goes deep. In essence, he says, make the reader connect and find themselves in the characters and the action. Link it to “the instinctive desires of mankind.” Overton also offers instruction for nonfiction works. He offers this keen advice so that “motoring and movies” not usurp reading.
The last chapter, Writing a Novel, can and should be read on its own several times. It tackles why anyone should write at all (satisfy one’s self, please and instruct others, make money). By not pursuing all three in concert, it is “a fine French sauce – with nothing to spread it on.”
I have covered much in this review but nowhere near all. Overton has much more to share. On a side note, you will gain exposure to many writers who were huge back when. It may encourage you to read their works. But what you must do, is read through to Overton’s last line. It will prompt a humorous yawg.
Overton is the right guy to pen this “how-not-to” book. He was a journalist, literary critic, editor, and novelist. He worked for the New York Sun, book publisher George H. Doran, and was editor of Colliers. Further, he authored at least ten books and edited collections of short stories.
Over eight chapters, we are exposed to his main point. Yes, the quality of writing and the importance of having something to say, are critical. But do not leave out the impact of critics, reviewers, editors, publishers, and marketing. So much more goes into a book and determines its success. That is why he chooses to cover the craft of writing in the eighth and final chapter. He takes the first seven to prepare any scribe for the business and vagaries of book writing.
The first chapter shares the same title as the book. It’s a primer on what is to come. He provides examples book duds and successes from his day including recognizable names like Ezra Pound to the more obscure, Robert W. Chambers. He answers the question of why authors go wrong paradoxically, by revealing what goes right in a short formula. This covers motivation, purpose, and volume or frequency of writing.
He really has a bone to pick with authors who have had success and then “write for art”. Overton views this segment as fake puritans and pontificators. He writes, “The world may be perverse, but you have to take it as it is. The world may be childish, but none of us will live to see it grow up. If the world thinks you write with the honest and understandable object of making a living it attributes no ulterior motive to you.” Overton is all-in on writing being a career, somewhat a profession, and not at all, a higher calling.
This is a hilarious line, “Can a man serve two masters? Can he serve money and morality? Foolish question No. 58,914! He not only can but he always does when his work is good.”
I needed my thesaurus for chapter two, A Barbaric Yawp. Yawp means, a hoarse cry or yelp. I like it more than yelp and wonder if the restaurant app considered Yawp as its name. Overton is borrowing from Walt Wittman so he himself, may let out a cry. I have read and reread this chapter and am at a loss. It seems to be a colorful rant against America and the American people. Mine may be a wrong summary, but he seems to challenge democracy and the right of less intelligent people to judge the work of others. It reeks of elitism.
This scent carries itself into the third chapter, In The Critical Court. He constructs a mock court for a mock trial of Booth Tarkington. Apparently, it is an ironic examination of how critics get it wrong. How a writer’s work is misinterpreted. Perhaps, it registered when first published, but is less effective today.
After these two offbeat chapters, Overton returns to a more decipherable format with, Book “Reviewing”. He gets rights to it, “Book reviewing is so called because the books are not reviewed, or viewed (some say not even read). They are described with more or less accuracy and at a variable length. They are praised, condemned, weighed, and solved by the use of logarithms. They are read, digested, quoted and tested for butter fat. They are examined, evalued, enjoyed and assessed; criticised, and frequently found fault with (not the same thing, of course).”
The fact that he talks of logarithms, when we now live in a time of algorithms is fascinating. You quickly find that he has no love for the professional reviewer, “Any one can review a book and every one should be encouraged to do it. It is unskilled labor.” His point being, “A book can only be written about or around.” This chapter is by far the longest and soon exhibits diminishing returns and must have lost readers in the first edition but was, probably, cathartic for Overton.
Next up is, Literary Editors, By One of Them. He hops right in by claiming the title is useless. You cannot be both. You are either literary or an editor in his estimation. Overton gets into the meat in, What Every Publisher Knows. The summation, it is about the money. He points out a study from one publisher on their last 1,200 books. Only ten percent made any money. Those offset the break-evens and losses. Publishing is game of numbers in so many ways. You have to have volume and place big bets, that true then and true today.
I am a branding and marketing consultant, as well as a ghostwriter of business books. Overton excels at covering merchandizing and advertising, “Every book that is published requires advertising though perhaps no two books call for advertising in just the same way.” That is so true, formulas do not work. Conventional approaches bypassed. I believe it is about lighting the torch of word of mouth, as elusive as that is.
Chapter Seven, The Secret of the Best Seller, delivers tons of tips that are still relevant. For a time, Overton rails against poor distributorship in the industry. That is, of course, no longer an issue. For him, “There are two secrets of the best seller. One resides in the book itself, the other rests in the manner of its exploitation. One is inherent, the other is circumstantial. One is partly controllable by the publisher, the other is wholly so.”
This issue resonates with me. My experience with the “exploitation” of books by most publishers has been horrible. Publishers are terrible marketers, they are still playing the volume game. I believe the marketing departments within publishers should be best-in-class. They should be profit centers and sell their services to other publishers, if you get my drift. Instead, marketing is an after thought.
Overton nails it 100 years ago with, “Most books are wrongly advertised and inadequately advertised, and rather frequently advertised in the wrong places.” He offers up some amazing tactical ideas, most of which are conventional today but would have been highly original in their time (“making a phonograph record of some effective passage in the book, market the record in the usual way, at a popular price”). He speaks of injecting the book’s marketing with personality. That is still a big, unrealized idea.
He strays into the product itself, suggesting the makeup of a compelling fiction novel. It must be a good story, “with plenty of surface action”. A crisis in the affairs or the most affable characters. A crisis that is satisfactorily solved. Next, give readers depth below the surface action, “for those who care to plumb them”.
Lastly, he goes deep. In essence, he says, make the reader connect and find themselves in the characters and the action. Link it to “the instinctive desires of mankind.” Overton also offers instruction for nonfiction works. He offers this keen advice so that “motoring and movies” not usurp reading.
The last chapter, Writing a Novel, can and should be read on its own several times. It tackles why anyone should write at all (satisfy one’s self, please and instruct others, make money). By not pursuing all three in concert, it is “a fine French sauce – with nothing to spread it on.”
I have covered much in this review but nowhere near all. Overton has much more to share. On a side note, you will gain exposure to many writers who were huge back when. It may encourage you to read their works. But what you must do, is read through to Overton’s last line. It will prompt a humorous yawg.
Displaying 1 of 1 review