Adam Voith is a writer, publisher, and retired booking agent. His new novel RECOMMENDED IF YOU LIKE is out now for $0.00 at littleengines.shop and streaming as a podcast on most platforms.
When I was a kid, I assumed Christian music existed because making it was an act of devotion. Later, I learned that major labels like UMG have dedicated Christian imprints because there’s a market for it. If a work is created or marketed with commercial motives, does that diminish the authenticity of the spiritual experience it creates for listeners?
This novel’s weird world existed primarily as a market for sure. I like to joke that my book is more about business than religion. I have no doubt there were bands and songwriters looking to glorify God, but for the artists I was around, the authenticity question went the other way. They were not interested in a spiritual message or frame. They wanted to be seen as authentic for their taste, standards, and talent, but were stuck inside a world that only really recognized purity, permission, and approved behavior. It’s hard to find any art making that happens outside of a market, but the added layer of enclosure with the Christian Rock scene was misery making for many because it was a supervised imitation of the general market.
Not to be stuck on the religious tip, but I wonder if you can relate. I remember a lot of my interactions with others were filled with concerns about them being “saved”. What do you think that does to your social skills when your attention is always underlined with concern for people’s eternal soul?
I remember that vibe from my adolescence, but the characters in my book don’t care about that, they almost never discuss any of that. They’d rather think and talk about anything but that!
Christ, how do you feel about him?
I spent 20 or so years trying to not feel anything about Jesus. I tapped out of religion in sort of slow but steady motion after leaving my parents' house. My understanding of Jesus was warped, and I developed a near allergic reaction to anything Christ-related. That said, over the last decade, and really in the last few years in particular, I’ve found a new openness to Christianity as it relates to literature. At some point, if you want to read deeply and seriously, you can’t have your head in the sand about Christ or Christianity, but I’m not looking for religion.
By selling your books for $0.00 you get to define your values instead of defending them. But what’s the end goal here?
I don’t want an end—I’m hoping this is a beginning—but the loose and lofty goal was to put out books this year as removed from business as possible. There is no distribution. There are no invoices. It’s simply handing out (or shipping out) books to people interested in reading them. This is obviously not sustainable, and it’s not necessarily a long-term vision. It was an idea for two books this year, and it’ll spill into next year in terms of supporting them with live events, but I’m not sure what comes next for Little Engines as a book publisher. I know I really like making books, though.
It's great to know your characters don't think about those things, but I was talking to you in an attempt to relate on a personal level, Adam. I'll make sure that I make it clear who I'm asking the questions about for the rest of the interview.
Adam, the formatting for RIYL reminds me of Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72 by Hunter S. Thompson. Where it hops in and out of current and recollection. Yours is a little more complex and engaging. Tell me how this formatting occurred. Was it found naturally or was it a problem you had to solve?
I’ll have to check that Thompson out, it’s not one I’ve read. R.I.Y.L.’s form was a problem to solve, indeed. I tried a different ways of telling this story, including a short-lived bit where I thought I might be writing non-fiction essays instead of a novel. Things weren’t feeling right until I began to image the entire book confined to the words the protagonist was speaking into a tape recorder. Once the fictional frame of an audio zine arrived, I was able to establish a voice and style that carried me forward in an exciting way for me as a writer and storyteller, and it got me to a solid first draft.
This question is also for Adam—Adam Voith, specifically. A lot of writers are talking about how publishing is dying or on a suicide mission. Doesn’t that mean that the indies will gain prominence?
Not sure there's hope for indie publishing to surge ahead in the current climate en masse. I suspect those that thrive in the moment that will do so because of what they publish rather than for their independence specifically. I’m trying my best to sidestep the “publishing is dying” and “no one reads” stuff because in my small corner, it doesn’t seem to be true. Tons of my friends and family read. It’s an avalanche of new books each week, new presses starting all the time. I keep whispering to myself: small is good and underground is cool.
Excuse me, this question is for Adam. Adam Voith, the author of RIYL. How many more weeks do you think Substack has before it becomes as toxic as Twitter?
Pass.