Interview with Traver Kauffman from Rake’s Progress

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Traver Kauffman–proprietor of Rake’s Progress–is a husband, father, dog-tender, and an occasional book reviewer based in Denver, Colorado. His main problem is that he drinks too much and writes too little.

Simon Owens: Do you think that your MFA in fiction has affected your lit blogging at all?

Traver Kauffman: To be reductive, I’d say that the insecurity I developed from taking an MFA and then accomplishing absolutely nothing in the subsequent half-decade fueled the need for me to show off online, no matter how modest the audience or accolades.

Simon Owens: Do you approach literary works differently because of it?

Traver Kauffman: Taking that MFA, I’ve found, served to both mythologize and demythologize writers. At best, I developed a deeper appreciation for the accomplishment of individual authors; at worst, I learned it’s probably best not to try to meet your literary heroes.

Simon Owens: What are some of the blogs that originally inspired The Rake’s Progress when it first started back in 2004?

Traver Kauffman: The Minor Fall, The Major Lift (TMFTML) was my first exposure to the blog form. From there, I found Maud Newton and Mark Sarvas and Ed Champion, and I set out to earn an approving nod from them.

Simon Owens: Can popular lit bloggers make any real money from Amazon (and other book seller) affiliate programs? Most reports I’ve seen seem to indicate that they don’t produce much more than extra spare change, but lit bloggers have a more tightly niche book-reading audience.

Traver Kauffman: Not as far as I know (which ain’t that far). I understand that the bloggers in question earn a minor fraction of the sales they generate…and that the sales aren’t enough to keep a literate wag full of even the cheapest booze. But who knows? There could be someone out there making a killing.

I decided some time ago that the day I tried to chisel a couple meager bucks out of running RP—i.e., making silly quasi-literary jokes—would be the day that the lark turned very sad. So I don’t go in search of revenue, and I turn down offers of advertising (of which there have been a few, but not many).

Simon Owens: Do you think more and more book publicists will begin to contact book bloggers, after they see the promotion power they hold?

Traver Kauffman: Oh, god yes. They already do. (I get more stuff than I can read, so I can only imagine the awesome piles that people with large audiences have to deal with.) Pub people really have nothing to lose by tossing litbloggers a few review copies—insanely strident cheerleading for their title is the upshot, and there’s virtually no downside.

Simon Owens: What upcoming book publications are you most looking forward to?

Traver Kauffman: Pynchon, Pynchon, Pynchon. The next thing Jack Butler releases (which is rumored to be forthcoming). The next Steve Erickson novel, whatever it is. The next Stephen Dixon book. The new Cormac McCarthy, already out but as yet unread by your pal here. The latest dispatch from either Dalkey Archive or Coffee House Press, whatever it might be.

Simon Owens: What are the five blogs you’d recommend to supplement the reading of your own?

Traver Kauffman: I’m going to assume that everyone knows the quality lit blogs, since they have audiences several orders of magnitude beyond mine. (Hint: A few of them are listed above!) So I’ll direct your attention to some kindred spirits (who have never heard of me, so don’t ask them). First, there’s Sadly, No!, which is what RP would be if I were a political blogger and weren’t lazy. Then, there’s Fire Joe Morgan, fighting the good fight against asinine sports writing. I like Deadspin, that well-funded goof. And though he doesn’t need it, I have to plug Last Plane to Jakarta, the sporadically updated blog of John Darnielle (aka The Mountain Goats), who aside from being god’s guitar-strummin’ messenger is the most open-hearted music critic I can think of.

As for literary sites, of late I’ve been enjoying poet Bill Knott’s blog. Now there’s a blog with a tone of pure, sublime bitterness that really appeals.

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