The (CanL)It Crowd with Steven Mayoff
I first met Steven Mayoff when I started working with Radiant Press in 2023 to do publicity for his staggering and strange and altogether wonderful novel of magic realism and satire, The Island Gospel According to Samson Grief—a story about a PEI painter named Samson who is visited by three messengers of The Supreme One who bear a bizarre order for the artist: he must build the Island’s first synagogue.
As I began working with Steven, I passed along the same advice I give all authors: if you want people to give a shit about your book, honestly, you’ve got to honestly give a shit about other people’s books. Review and respond to other CanLit titles and books in general. This isn’t the only path to authorial solvency—not by a long shot, but in my experience, it’s good to be a part of the cultural conversation. It’s essential to be genuine. It’ll also save you a lot of heartache if you don’t expect anything in return. If you are championing another book or author, you can’t do it because you expect that author (or anyone) to do it for you. You’ve gotta celebrate books because you love reading them. Simple as that. Where the connections happen is when you meet other bookishly minded individuals. Sometimes, this will be other authors. Sometimes, it will be readers. Sometimes these connections happen immediately and sometimes they develop over years.
Steven took my advice and ran with it. He reviewed many books and championed many authors. I was impressed by his energy and output. Astounded even. But it came as no surprise when, months down the road, I asked if he was interested in reviewing a certain title and he declined. Dude was burnt out. I get it. I’ve been there. While I still do a lot of mini-reviews on my social media platforms, these days I only do one or two full-length reviews for literary magazines a year.
It was at this point of expressing his exhaustion that I asked Steven if he’d be interested in contributing to this series on literary citizenship and community. At his leisure. No rush. Whenevs. After Steven’s marathon of book reviewing, I figured he might have some insights he’d like to share but didn’t want to task him with one more thing he felt he had to do. Thankfully for me and all of us, he said yes.
I admire Steven immensely (you can read another interview I did with him in Atticus here), and I am pleased to have him join me for this instalment of The (CanL)It Crowd.
Author Steven Mayoff
The (CanL)It Crowd with Steven Mayoff: The Transactional Underpinnings of Literary Citizenship
In the course of human events, altruism and self-interest are often two sides of the same coin. This seems especially evident in the notion of Literary Citizenship. How to support those in your writing community and, in turn, be supported within that community? Write reviews of fellow writers’ books, and in the process, get your name out there and perhaps garner a few reviews for your own work. Share social media posts of writers with the tacit hope that your own posts will be shared and hopefully reach a wider audience. Attend readings or live interviews, either remotely or in person, and maybe those same writers will show up at your events.
In a literary industry that often seems to thrive on competition in the name of community, whether it be in the form of weekly bestseller lists or annual prizes, pitting writers against each other makes for good publicity. While the ideal of literary citizenship – community through mutual respect – seems like a wholesome antidote to all that, how much of this idealism is predicated on an unspoken quid pro quo? There are as many answers as there are writers. But when it comes to a point where the line between what you are giving out and what you are getting back is blurry at best, it might be time to step back and ask yourself: what does it really mean to be a literary citizen? When is it okay to create boundaries between yourself and the rest of the writing community in order to protect your own literary sovereignty? At what point do the demands of literary citizenship lead to the kind of burnout that makes you question what the actual point is to all this?
That certainly seems to be where I currently find myself. And while I wish I could say I have some answers, the truth is I have found myself facing a kind of cul-de-sac where there seems to be nowhere to advance. I’ve met some interesting people over the course of the first half of this year. Made some possible contacts. Maybe even started some relationships. But it is still too early to tell. All I know at this point is that literary citizenship seems to have more to do with self-preservation than being of service.
Because once you’ve given your all, how do you get it back? That’s when literary citizenship becomes a very closed-in community. Over the two decades I’ve been a published writer, I’ve been lucky to get a break from someone every now and then. Hopefully, I’ve given back or passed it on every time I was given the opportunity to do so. The best I can do is try not to hold on to what is not serving me and push ahead as best I can. Literary citizenship is nothing new to me. Rather, I’m new to it and still trying to negotiate the pathways and pitfalls along the way.
The Island Gospel According to Samson Grief by Steven Mayoff, published by Radiant Press.
More about Steven Mayoff:
Steven Mayoff (he/him) was born and raised in Montreal. His fiction and poetry have appeared in literary journals across Canada, the U.S. and abroad. He is the author of the story collection Fatted Calf Blues, winner of the 2010 PEI Book Award for Fiction; the novel Our Lady of Steerage; and two books of poetry Leonard’s Flat and Swinging Between Water and Stone. Steven lives in Foxley River, PEI.