May 9th, 2009 by Jason Pinter
I remember last summer reading Entertainment Weekly’s article on the difficulties surrounding the release of the recent “Hulk” movie. Apparently notoriously difficult star Edward Norton had a pretty major, and pretty public, disagreement with the studio over the film’s runtime and direction. Marvel wanted the movie leaner and meaner. Norton wanted the movie longer and with more character development.The studio won (as I imagine it likely always does) Having lost the dispute, Nortonsupposedly refused to publicize the movie, except a few small things here or there. And he’s pretty much persona non grata on the DVD. For a star-driven summer action movie, this is essentially a death-knell (can you imagine if Harrison Ford refused to promote “Indiana Jones”?).
From most reports Norton is a terror behind the scenes–yet brilliant in front of it. He’s arguably one of the best–and most versatile–actors working today. So how is this possible? How can someone so talented also be such a well…bitch?
This got me thinking about difficult personalities, specifically in the world of book publishing. I’ve heard a lot of horror stories about difficult authors. Authors who demand outrageous amounts of time, money and effort from their editors and publishers. Authors who do everything but march down to the company themselves to ream people out (and some have done this). Authors who demand conference calls when their book drops off the New York Times bestseller list (after having spent 8 weeks on it). But one thing most of these difficult authors have in common is that an unusually large amount of them are massively successful. For some reason, their intense desire to succeed–even in spite of many social graces–often allows them to actually succeed. So what is it about difficulty that allows writers–and people in other mediums–to be so successful while everyone cowers when they enter a room?
I think a large part of it is that whatever a person demands from their publisher (or studio, etc…) they are putting a similar, if not greater effort into the work themselves. They’re not sitting in an easy chair barking out orders, they’re putting the kind of time into their work that Michael Jordan did into his jump shot. They’re authors who started small, and worked themselves to the top. They didn’t sit back passively, they demanded those in charge put effort behind them. And in return they showed the effort would be matched, and then some. Sometimes they’re right, sometimes they’re wrong, but more often then not they’re just asking for the same effort to be put into publishing their work that went into creating it.
Crime authors, at least those I’ve met, at among the nicest people in the world. They support each other. They mentor new writers, and give infinite tips on how to navigate the industry. I have been the beneficiaries of almost unfathomable kindness from my peers, and have tried to pay it forward the best I can. Sure there are egos–as in any profession–but for the most part crime authors are an absolute pleasure to be around.
Yet it’s well known within the industry that there is very little correlation between the respect a person gets from one’s peers, and success in their field. Some of the most beloved authors, the ones who never pay for a drink at a convention, who win the most awards and whose panels are constantly full, don’t sell all that well. And many authors who simply don’t go to conferences (unless they’re the Guest of Honor) and don’t schmooze are huge bestsellers. There is often a massive gulf between personal reputation and professional success. Fair? Probably not. True? Unfortunately so.
Yet nobody wants to be difficult, or at least I doubt people who are difficult consider themselves to be. I doubt if you asked authors with the worst reputations if they considered themselves difficult, the answer would be unequivocally “no.” Difficult? No. Passionate? Hardworking? Demanding? Hell yes.
Perhaps that’s a fine line, but the most difficult authors seem to be the ones who, first and foremost, expect the most from themselves. They work harder, and most importantly they see the forest from the trees. Yes, there are many examples of authors who are gracious and kind and have comparable success. They are examples what we aspire to be: people whose books are as beloved as their personalities. And there are also those authors who are simply assholes, who treat others like dirt without offering anything in return (chances are they won’t be published for long, as publishers rightfully tend to tolerate difficulty only when it is worth the effort).
So maybe nice guys don’t always finish last, but while most nice guys are buying everyone a round there’s a difficult–nay, passionate–author hunched over his desk, with his editor, agent and publicist on speed dial.
Writing is an art. Publishing is a business. And just like in business, it’s often better to be feared than loved.
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For me, it really depends on where the author is coming from regarding their being an asshat. If it’s because they feel they’ve busted butt and the publisher isn’t living up to their end of the bargain, I can appreciate that. Takes a fair bit of confidence and nerve to be outspoken. Of course it is possible to be demanding and outspoken without being a prick. If they are being an ass because of conceit, because they feel everyone should be shoveling money their way because of their fabulosity, then I don’t care how hard they’ve worked. I doubt they ever consider that the more money a publisher dumps into their pocket, the less there is to support all the other great books the publisher has acquired and now can’t market as effectively because they just poured two million into asshat’s bank account in order to keep them happy. I don’t really pay attention to which authors are jerks and those who aren’t, but when I find out, they go on my ‘never buy’ list. I would love it if some celebrity who used their popularity to garner a big book deal would then turn around and say, “Ok, you just offered me four million dollars to talk about my life. Give me two of it, and take the other two and support some of your other books that might actually have an effect on the reading public.”
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I agree, there is a way to be forceful without being an asshat. There are authors who are asshats in general, and there are authors who bust their butts and are simply unafraid to share their opinions and ideas, and even push for them. There should never be a sense of entitlement–being published is a privilege, not a right–but an author should never be afraid to raise their voice…provided they never take what they have for granted.
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you know, I think there’s different types of personalities which all unfortunately get the blanket description of being difficult to work with. Reading that article you linked to, for example, what I see is a description of a terribly driven person.
Driven people can be hard to work with, especially in a collaborative project like a movie. They are perfectionistic, intense and passionate and they have a definite vision and find it hard to compromise. It’s not that they can’t or won’t compromise, it’s just hard for them to do so, to be convinced that their vision needs altering. These same qualities could conceivably have led to some of the most breathtaking accomplishments in human history, art and science and economics, etc.
(consider Michelangelo being so frustrated at his apprentices lack of understanding what they need to do that he banned them all from the project and painted the Sistine Chapel himself).
Yet, outside of the specific project, many of them can be perfectly nice, easy-going people. If a tad obsessive now and then.
That’s one type of difficult.
The other type is the prima donna. Self-explanatory I think.
In the case of the former I can well understand why leeway would be given, while the latter’s sense of entitlement and self-impressedness can eventually become too much of a nuisance.
Considering Norton and the Hulk again — I’m not seeing evidence there of someone expecting special treatment to accomodate his speshulness, but rather someone intensely passionate about his work, about creating something meaningful as perfect as humanly possible.
It’s unfair to catalog that type of personality as difficult along with the prima donnas, as if they are the same kind of person. I wonder if we shouldn’t all take more responsibility to start differentiating between difficult as person and difficult as driven?
anyways, a very thoughtful article, just shooting off a couple of thoughts here.
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I don’t know what’s funnier: being told how I’m supposed to behave as a writer, or the person who does the telling. Inevitably it comes from someone who would not tolerate for a second anyone telling them how to conduct themselves.
If you want everyone to like you, get a job delivering flowers.