Writer Neal Pollack first gained attention for the work collected in The Neal Pollack Anthology of American Literature. It featured the mock-heroic adventures of the self-described "world's greatest writer," who happened to be named "Neal Pollack"—a character meant to lampoon the self-absorption and snobbery of top-rank American novelists. Since then, he's written two more books (Never Mind the Pollacks: A Rock 'n' Roll Novel and Beneath the Axis of Evil: One Man's Journey into the Horror of War) and contributes to any publication or website that will pay, including Vanity Fair. As part of the Vegas Valley Book Fest, he'll read from his recent work at 8 p.m. at the Art Bar on Friday, October 21, and again at 3 p.m., Saturday, October 22, at the Las Vegas Library.
According to the state laws of Nevada, I'm supposed to remind you that this is being taped.
Oh, good. I'm glad to know Nevada's legal system hasn't faltered on privacy laws. Wait, am I being videotaped? That'd be a very different thing.
I guess it would depend on what you're wearing.
You don't want to know.
Same here.
That's why I work at home. Are you sure this is an interview? Things are getting kind of spicy here!
[Laughter]
This visit will be somewhat different than your last visit here.
God, I hope so. I was on a self-funded, self-propelled tour for my first book, and I thought it would be a hilarious idea to have a reading in my Vegas hotel room—at 10:30 at night on a Sunday. I announced it only on the Internet and still had five people come. It was fun, but in terms of book publicity ...
Did you sell any books?
Yeah, five.
One-hundred percent sell-through!
[Laughter]
I have always kind of enjoyed meeting the people who read my books. There aren't so many that I can't get to know some of them.
You're coming for a panel on satire and social commentary. Do you think of yourself in those terms or is that just what comes out?
Well, I usually have a target in my crosshairs, and I do whatever I can to bring it down. Yeah, I'm a comedy assassin. No, I'm not a comedy assassin. I'm more like a comedy buck private ... washing potatoes behind the ... well, that's not working ...
But we appreciate the effort you put into it.
... There's no writing that isn't social commentary, it's just that some people are a little more deliberate about what they're saying. So how did I end up being a satirist? I hate to say it's genetic, but it's always been how I filter the world. I read Mad and Crack'd from an early age, I saw Mel Brooks movies and Airplane at an impressionable age, and those impressions have never completely lifted. So it just seemed like the right pose to strike.
You do an awful lot of work in an awful lot of places ...
It's called being a hack! I'm working on a book, so that takes up most of my time. I've been doing some TV writing for Nerve.com, some sportswriting for Slate, whatever random things come along. I'm writing a satire of Nobel Prize ceremonies for some science magazine. Pretty much, I take what comes my way.
How do you avoid writing fatigue?
All I have to do is look at my bank account. That removes all fatigue. If I don't write, my family gets very hungry. I mean, we do OK. We own a little house, have a car, our son's ribs don't show through his skin. I have to laugh when people assume that because I have published a couple of books and been interviewed in various publications, it must mean I'm wealthy. But it's just really hard to make a lot of money as a writer.
I noticed you put up a post on your blog in July announcing you were broke and soliciting work.
I was so broke this summer, it was just really, really embarrassing and sad. But I had no choice at that point! Stuff usually opens up for me, but it was a particularly fallow period. And, you know, I'm not afraid to beg. Also, I want people to know that even though I've made a name for myself as a writer, it's not easy to make a living. I think that's important for people who are up and coming to realize. Being a writer is not some kind of lofty thing. It's a job—it's a really cool way to make a living, but it's a struggle, like anything else.
I take it you're out of the woods now?
More or less. There's always fresh woods ahead. We're in a little clearing right now, but I can see the Black Forest looming.
How often do you find yourself taking notes on your daily life and wondering, "I wonder if I could sell this to somebody?"
Funny you should mention that. I'm working on a memoir about nothing more complicated than raising my child. It's going to be published next year under the title Alternadad. So, yes: notes on my daily life. I take them all the time. If you turn the right eye on it, daily life can be funny, too.
You're shedding the "World's Greatest Writer" persona?
Yeah, pretty much. It just sorta dropped away. It was created to make fun of literary snobs, and I suppose I could keep doing that, but there's not really a huge gravy train for that. I think the statute of limitations just ran out.
I don't regret having done it, but I'm certainly glad it's over.
You're moving to Los Angeles ...
Yeah, I'm going to allow Hollywood to crush my dreams.
Going to try your hand at screenwriting?
Well, the first thing you try your hand at in Los Angeles is going to meetings. If that works out, I'll try my hand at screenwriting.
Someone on your website suggested you write an essay about the future direction of American literature.
I'd probably say American literature needs to be more like great crime fiction and less like bad imitations of Thomas Pynchon. But who the hell cares? Literature is going to do what it's gonna do. There are a lot of things that need to be shaken up in the culture, but literature is probably not one of them. It's like calling for a new kind of opera—we need a new opera to shake America out of its doldrums. It's kind of a specialized thing like that.
You seem happy to be a commercial writer.
I am! I love to get paid for writing. Writers don't talk enough about money, but I think that's an important element of the writing life.
Isn't it a job just like any other?
No, not really. I mean, I've pretty much determined to work in my underwear for the rest of my life. It's just the best way to write.
Well, there's a lesson for aspiring writers.
Right. If I have anything to say to aspiring writers, it's this: Write in your underwear—because you can. You don't miss something like that until it's gone.