What does it mean to be a creator in 2012?

It means you’ve got to be ready to be your own cheerleader, creating websites, micro-marketing and just figuring out by hook or by crook how to get seen by the world.

But entrepreneur? Is this the new de facto addition all writers, actors, critics and filmmakers should be tacking onto their biographies?

Obviously, it was Louis CK really kicked the conversation into high gear.

The comedian had the audacity to self-distribute his latest comedy show “Live at the Beacon Theater” for $5 over the internet and made a cool million in exactly 12 days.

Imagine that.

The subtext to Louis CK’s daring but inevitable move is a question that more and more creative types are asking themselves. Ought the artist attempt to retain more control over the distribution of their work — which is to say, more of a financial stake?

Hidden in the discussion is the dream of all scrappy artists: financial security.

I certainly think that artists owe it to themselves to take a greater stake in their own “brands” as it were to better withstand the slings and arrows of an outrageous economy.

J. Hoberman’s recent departure from the Village Voice is a good case in point. In the press, it was framed as blow for film criticism in general, as in this Anthony Kaufman piece from Indiewire:

The conventional wisdom may be that individual critics don’t matter, or aggregation review sites like Rotten Tomatoes or Flickster, have replaced them. But distribution executives are constantly lamenting the loss of local critics–who have established a rapport with audiences, who, in turn, trust these reviewers and, in fact, go to see movies because of them. And in New York, the most important art-house market in the world, Hoberman was among the most respected.

Less discussed was how whether or not being a part of the Village Voice really matters anymore since the rapid watering-down and corportization the paper had succumbed to after it sold to New Times Media. I mean, it’s hard not to romanticize the name — when I first came to NYC in the late 90s, the Voice was a piece of my neighborhood’s bedrock, still being produced by a ragtag bunch of misfits in an office near Cooper Square. Thumbing through the newsprint for the apartment listings, the tinfoil-hat wearing letters and the superb reporting on Giuliani-era club crackdowns was more than just a pastime, it felt essential. I saw the editors then as celebrities and framed a copy of my very first check from them for writing for one of the Best of New York issues.

A lot has happened since then, most notably, the growth of the interwebs as a new vehicle for the dissemination of news and opinion. Titanic media names are scrambling, trying (and failing) to mimic the wildly popular bloggers. When I brought home a print edition of the New York Times this past Sunday, I read a relatively new full page feature in the magazine which was comprised of twenty or so snippets by different authors with chagrin. The Twitter-ization of print.

Old guard commentators decry a trend toward the online churn as a  slippery slope meaning that inevitably the serious discussion of serious cultural things will be written by obsessed teenage fanboys.

But what if we are indeed in a time where the great chaos produces a lot more opportunity for artists to seize control? Where Hoberman as a brand name has a lot more authenticity, credibility and value than the Village Voice?

And one of thing that’s been guiding me as I investigate people and ideas that are shaping the future of publishing is the question of who “owns” the new means of production and distribution of creative work.

Over New Year’s Eve, I started chatting with a Columbia MFA friend of mine about the changes Amazon is bringing to publishing. The conversation even turned to the dreaded “s-word.”

Self-publishing. The phrase used to strike horror in the heart of any serious lover of literature.

Trust me, I’ve been in the trenches, wading through slush in such vaulted basements and offices as Miramax Films, the Paris Review and the New Yorker. The self-delusions of aspiring writers can be alternately bewildering and comical.

Finding a readership is a really challenging thing. Traditionally, publishers have fulfilled the role of gatekeeper. I know by FSG’s track record that they generally don’t publish bad books. So the imprimatur of a major house says something about the volume you’ll pick up.

So what’s changed? A lot of people will tell you it’s technology. I can make an album or a film completely at home now and you might not guess it’s an amateur effort. I push a little button and voila I have a website. Making an ebook is not actually that much more difficult.

And so if you look beyond Louis CK’s million dollar check, the much more seismic shift in the consumption of entertainment equation is the changing role of the audience.

A vocal audience can make an unknown — and readership/participation is making a strong run at pedigree.

Not everyone is happy with the change. My MFA friend craves the the possibility of the brass ring, meaning big advance, excerpt in the New Yorker, National Book Award and Pulitzer Prize.

Me? It’s seems like the biggest prize would be readers who care passionately about what you’re doing.

And I’m tantalized by a number of recent stories of authors taking more control over the shape of their careers via new digital distribution channels.

To wit:

• Darcie Chan’s debut novel, The Mill River Recluse, became a bona-fide hit thanks to her canny digital marketing tactics and competitive pricing.
• Deborah Reed’s self-published genre novel earned the attention of Amazon’s new publishing imprint, who offered her a publishing deal for her next literary novel.
• The Fearful Adventurer, a popular blogger, writes: ”I launched my self-published book in the first week of September this year. In just over two months, I’ve landed some big publishing deals and a movie deal.”

“Entrepreneur” has become such a trendy word that it flirting with meaninglessness. But as the tools for creation become ever more accessible (Apple’s iBook Author, anyone?), creative people owe themselves the exploration.

A related note: I could go on an on about this, and the good thing is that I will have a chance to go on and on about it, in a public forum, with people who know a lot more about it than me.

Susan Halligan and I co-curating a panel on “social reading” for Social Media Week New York on the morning of Valentine’s Day, February 14th. We’ve got thinkers, academics, founders and developers on the panel and it’s going to be an amazing discussion. Hope you’ll check it out!