@dedication_bot
The dedication for my memoir, Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment, got a shout out on X from @dedication_bot. A few other cool dedications from the account, which posts book dedications every four hours: “A Demon's Guide to Wooing a Witch by Sarah Hawley,” “The Treeline: The Last Forest and the Future of Life on Earth by Ben Rawlence,” and “Alone with You in the Ether: A Love Story by Olivie Blake.”
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Why Am I Anxious?
When I’m not anxious, I’m depressed. Why am I anxious and depressed? Find out more about my particular brand of crazy and its roots in this interview I did with Anxious Dude: “I Am Anxious… Susannah Breslin.”
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Data Baby Reviewed in The Columbia Journal of Literary Criticism
“Susannah Breslin was indeed a data baby — twice, even. And her second time, she flaunts the role, resisting its implications and asserting her own control over it.” Read the rest of this insightful review of my memoir, Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment, in The Columbia Journal of Literary Criticism.
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Be a Clown
A clown mask at Blast From the Past. Follow me on Instagram for more photographs from my life in L.A.
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Data Baby Is One of Five Books' Notable Psychology and Self-Help Books of 2023
“In Data Baby, Breslin reflects on her experiences: How much of her present was predicted by her past? How much of her future has been pre-ordained? How much has all of ours?” Read Five Books’ recommendation of Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment in “Notable Psychology and Self-Help Books of 2023.”
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Retro
Vintage tech at a Valley Village estate sale. Follow me on Instagram for more photos from my life in L.A.
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Data Baby Reviewed in The Globe and Mail
“If, as Socrates contended, ‘the unexamined life is not worth living,’ then Breslin is living hers to the fullest. Lucky for us, she’s written a thought-provoking, ridiculously propulsive book about it.” Read the rest of this excellent review of my memoir, Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment, in The Globe and Mail.
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Fuck You, Pay Me #3: Scenes From My Life Writing a Porn Novel
This is part 3 of “Fuck You, Pay Me,” an ongoing series of posts on writing, editing, and publishing.
I’ve been working on what I refer to as my porn novel, and it’s been going pretty well. I thought I’d share a few things I’ve learned so far. If the novel keeps moving forward, there will be more posts like this to come. By the way, my novel isn’t porn, or smut, or romance. It’s literary. I call it my porn novel for the sake of shorthand.
Do the math. There is nothing more daunting than writing a novel, so sometimes when I get overwhelmed, or stuck, or unsure, I quantify something that seems unquantifiable. You know, like a novel. So pretty early, I converted the project into numbers. The novel would be approximately 60,000 words long. It would consist of 12 chapters. Each chapter would be approximately 5,000 words long. Each chapter would consist of 10 sections. Each section would be approximately 500 words long. In this way, when I sit down to write, I’m writing another 500-word section of my novel, not attempting to write a novel that is 60,000-words long. Capiche?
Do it your way. Last year, I went to an estate sale at a Hollywood art gallery. Some of what was being sold was vintage adult movie posters. I bought a poster for a porn movie called “She Did It Her Way.” In case you can’t read between the lines, I did not feel while writing a memoir while under contract to a major publisher that I was doing it my way, so in a way the writing of this novel is an effort to go back to what I used to do, which is to write what I want to write how I want to write it, not write what I think someone else wants me to write because that is what I feel I am contractually obligated to do. This novel is all about doing it my way. The other way is bullshit.
Do weird shit. This novel is weird. I mean it’s written in English, but it certainly is very different. I don’t think it has any obvious comparisons in the world of novels, so I guess you could say it is quite original. Also, it has really weird stuff in it, like weird dreams, and a weird main character, and a weird kind of relentless focus on the life of a person in extreme detail to the point of being a little “Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles”-esque. Do you know how many new books are published every year? I don’t either. But a lot. Secret: Most of them are garbage. Garbage or not, the only way to stand out from the crowd is to be weird.
Don’t overthink it. One thing I’m having a fair amount of success with in regards to this novel is not overthinking it. In fact, I don’t even think about it that much when I’m not working on it. I bang out these 500-word sections in about an hour, and I try not to do more than one of them a day. I allowed myself to create a draft of the first chapter that was a little messy but not overly so, and I paid a lot of attention to not dwelling on it, not sitting at the computer for a long period of time, and not spending hours of my life wondering whether or not it’s any good. I mean, it’s about the porn industry. How bad could it be? Ha-ha.
Don’t over revise. When I was done drafting the first chapter, which, I don’t know was done over the course of maybe a couple of weeks or a month or something, who knows, I can’t remember anymore, but not super long, I set it aside for a little bit. Then I decided I would go back and revise the first chapter. Revising my memoir was a bit of a nightmare, for reasons you may or may not be able to intuit, and I wasn’t sure when I went to revise this first chapter of my porn novel if that would be a nightmare, too. Thankfully, it wasn’t. I identified the issues pretty quickly and resolved them relatively easily. There are some things that need to be figured out and tweaked that have to do with the overall unspooling of the book, but I don’t think it will be some massive reinvention of the text. The only part I struggled a bit with was the last section of the first chapter. I’m not sure why. I’ll figure it out later.
Don’t stop trying. Awhile back, I wrote this post about the story of my life as a writer, and I realized as I was writing it how impactful certain events had been. Not obvious life shit, but writer shit. Like the writing residency I did in upstate New York, and the fellowship I did at U.C. Berkeley, and the seminar I did in a Philip Johnson building in Manhattan. And as I was writing the post, I recalled very clearly that for every single one of those things I applied for I was very cognizant of the fact that I didn’t think I was going to get it. But then I did. So I thought, you know, I should apply for some writing residencies for my porn novel. And then I thought, Oh, no, they’ll never pick me because this novel is literary but it is also about porn, and sometimes porn makes people twitchy. Anyway, I applied to one and more to come. Because you gotta try.
Decide to be transparent. If you have any awareness of me and my writing, you’ll know that I’ve tried to write this porn novel many times before, although always in different ways. This way feels different. I debated whether or not to share how it’s going at all, seeing as maybe I’ll just fail at it again, like all those other times. But then I thought, Fuck it. Who cares. One great thing about blogging is no one ever reads blogs anyway. This will be me, writing for me, about me. It will stand as a record of the point where I was now, and maybe at some point in the not-so-distant future I’ll look back on this and think: You go, girl.
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Listen to an Interview with me on Otherppl with Brad Listi
I really loved doing this interview with Brad Listi for his Otherppl podcast. What sets Brad apart is that he goes beyond interviewing the author about their book and really dives into the meat of their life, what made them who they are, what their story is. A lot of times, interviewers recite pre-written questions, or sort of follow the traditional format of interviewing a writer, or fall prey to the superficial premise of the author interview which is promoting the book. But Brad breaks the mold of what an author interview “should” be, and because of that, his author interviews are more like a conversation, one that ends up having kind of an alchemical effect. While my book, Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment, is a lot about a lot of things in my life, this interview also dove deeper into how I got started writing about sex and porn as an investigative journalist. One question caught me off guard, or rather caused me to hesitate considerably. At one point, Brad asked me what was the craziest thing I had seen while writing about sex, and the first thing that came to mind, was, well, pretty out there. Anyway, check out the interview to find out my answer, and make sure to check out Brad’s other Otherppl author interviews with authors who are a lot more famous than me, including Karl Ove Knausgård, Jonathan Franzen, Hilton Als, Maggie Nelson, Tim O’Brien, George Saunders, Melissa Febos, and Andres Dubus III.
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Showgirls
A strip club on Hollywood Boulevard. Follow me on Instagram for more photographs from my life in L.A.
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Belletrist Roundup
As I’ve mentioned previously, my memoir, Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment, was the Belletrist book club pick for December. Thanks so much again to Emma Roberts and Karah Preiss for having me. You can check out the Belletrist BRIEF newsletter featuring some of my favorite writerly things here, a video I made about some of my favorite books for the Belletrist STACKED series here, and an Instagram Live discussion featuring Emma, Karah, and me talking about Data Baby here. And join the Belletrist book club!
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Man's Ruin
A tattooed mannequin in a Hollywood storefront. Follow me on Instagram for more photos from my life in L.A.
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Fuck You, Pay Me #2: The Pros and Cons of Traditional vs. Indie Publishing
This is part 2 of “Fuck You, Pay Me,” an ongoing series of posts on writing, editing, and publishing.
INTRODUCTION
Twenty years ago, in 2003, I published a short story collection (fiction), You’re a Bad Man, Aren’t You?, through an independent small press book publisher. This year, in 2023, I published a memoir (nonfiction), Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment, through one of the Big Five traditional book publishers. What was the difference? Here I explore the pros and cons of each. (Note: For the sake of this post, I’m considering indie publishing to include small presses and traditional publishing to include the Big Five; these days, some people define indie publishing as only self-publishing, but that is not the case in this post.)
1. CONTROL
Indie: As I recall it, some time in 2003, I believe, I reached out to the founder of a small publisher of quirky books. By that point, I had been publishing weird short stories in print and online literary outlets, and I had amassed a decent sized pile of such over time. Enough for a collection. I reached out to the small press publisher, sent him my stories, and after awhile he responded, yes, he wanted to publish them as a small collection. In my memory, there was not a lot of editing, which was something that made me happy. A manuscript was created. I guess I reviewed it? I can’t really remember. The title of the book is the title of one of the stories. I seem to recall there was an earlier version of the cover I didn’t like, but then I think the same cover artist came up with the one you see in the photo above, which I liked. Eventually, the book was published. I was happy with how it turned out. I was proud. The book represented who I was.
Traditional: One thing about traditional book publishing that stands out in marked contrast to my previous experience with an independent publisher was that a large number of people were involved in the former. This time, there was an agent and the shopping of a book proposal to editors and meetings with people. There was a contract, an attorney, a team. I sold the book on proposal, and then I had to write it. I am not a team player; I do best creating on my own. The weight of being under contract to write a book that a publisher wanted me to write was considerable. This pressure caused a log-jam in the creative process in my head. Time dragged on. Finally, I hired a freelance editor who helped me finish the book. Did I write the book I wanted to write? That’s hard to say. Did I feel like I was in control of the creative process? Not all the time. Did I feel happy that I was done with the book? Yes, but I wasn’t so sure the book was me. A friend called it “Susannah light.”
2. MARKETING
Indie: Maybe my short story collection came out in September or thereabouts of 2003. Right around that time, I moved from Los Angeles to New Orleans, which in terms of the book was probably a stupid thing to do. I seem to remember having a profile written about me in the New Orleans weekly and I think there were some positive reviews and some guy who lived in Portland or something reviewed it and said reading my book was like being trapped next to an old woman drunk in a dive bar who would not shut up and the fact that I still remember that is a real testament to the negativity bias. I’d had a popular blog, but I think I had torn it down at that point, as I like to think of a life well lived as a let the bridges I burn light my way kind of a performance piece, and social media wasn’t a thing yet. The book came out, and I was pleased with it. By that point, I was working on a novel set in the porn industry, and I had, you know, as writers do, kind of moved on.
Traditional: Depending on who you ask, you may be told that either the big publishers no longer have the money to market every book or the big publishers are no longer interested in marketing books unless you are Stephen King or James Patterson or Colleen Hoover. I understood that for my memoir, I would be doing a fair amount of self-promotion. This was to be done mostly on social media or on a platform owned by someone else or in some other public forum. The idea was to flog the book by any means necessary. So I did. A long time ago I was a publicist, so I did all the things I could do to promote the book. The publisher did what they did, and I did what I did, and some good things came out of it, which are all here, but include a New York Post profile and a Slate essay I wrote and a starred review in Publishers Weekly and being a celebrity book club pick and I think there’s something else I’m forgetting. It was like being a busker: It was exhausting.
3. BUSINESS
Indie: I have no idea how the money worked with my short story collection, which is exactly as it should have been because I didn’t really care. The fictional short stories I wrote were strange and filthy and twisted. They featured pornographers gone wild and a woman who pretended be a lamp to sate the sexual desire of her partner and one guy who wanted to eat a woman. That’s all I cared about: the writing, the literary-iness, the creative expression. I don’t think I particularly cared who read it or why or what they thought about it. I do know that at a certain point the book sold out, and if you want to buy a copy today you’ll have to pay $1,085.62. As an enterprise, this was an exercise in privileging art over commerce. I did not regret it.
Traditional: When I signed the contract with my publisher, I got an advance. That advance was chopped up into multiple smaller amount payments. I also spent money during the course of working on the book: on the freelance editor, on messing around with boosting some posts about the book on Instagram, and on sending copies to various people. The book itself as a product is very pretty; of this, I am very sure. It has a lovely cover, and it feels nice to the touch. This book is very much an object; that’s how I see it. This object was created by a capitalist machine that spits out books the way a tuna canning factory spits out cans of tuna. Is my memoir a book or a can of tuna? Am I book or a can of tuna? Some days, I am not entirely sure of the answers.
CONCLUSION
I guess what I have found is that distinctions between different types of book publishing are by and large arbitrary and mostly wrong and generally manufactured. I have come to believe that independent book publishing and traditional book publishing and self-publishing are mostly all the same. I am of the mind that a book is not a book or a can of tuna but a mirror, that people do not write books for no one but to be read, and that the person who the author writes the book for is the author. Comparing and contrasting distribution models and marketing budgets and jacket design is mostly irrelevant. Because in the end the only thing that matters is when you hold up your book, do you see yourself—or do you see someone else?
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Selfie at 55
“There comes a time when you look into the mirror and you realize that what you see is all that you will ever be. And then you accept it. Or you kill yourself. Or you stop looking in mirrors.” ― J. Michael Straczynski
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Listen to an Excerpt From the Audio Book for Data Baby
Here’s a short excerpt from the audio book for my memoir Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment read by Cassandra Campbell. You can listen to the entire audio book by ordering it through Amazon here.
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Life in Pink
A shot from an estate sale in North Hollywood. Follow me on Instagram for more photos from my life in L.A.
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Is Susannah Breslin a Prostitute?
Recently I noticed that a few years back someone vandalized my Wikipedia page. Instead of the entry stating I was a journalist and writer, it had been revised to state I was a "prostitute, journalist and writer.” (The issue has since been fixed.) Obviously the person who did this is an idiot; they didn’t use the Oxford comma.
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Data Baby Reading at Book Passage
I’ll be reading from Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment at Book Passage in Corte Madera, CA, on Sunday, January 28, 2024, at 1 pm. [This event has been rescheduled for April 27, at 11 am.] There’s more information here, and you can buy Data Baby here.
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Repressia
A detail from REPRESSIA (decline) at LACMA. Follow me on Instagram for more photos from my life in L.A.
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