What happened to the good old days?

After reading the article by Johnny Temple, I was definitely left a little overwhelmed. I think someone already touched on this, but it just seems a little ridiculous that we spend our whole lives working on this one piece of literature, only to have to then single-handedly promote the book. At the same time, the publishers (at least the big industry ones) take way too much control over the book (cover art, editing, etc).

If there's one argument that does turn me more towards small press publishing, I would have to say its the control they (at least its the impression I get) allow to the writer. I want my book at every bookstore, but I want it to look the way I want (because no matter how we try to encourage not judging a book by its cover, we all know that a bad cover will immediately turn us off).

It's recently occurred to me that the whole art world (writing included) is not as pure as I had imagined. My overly idealistically self is now stuck between this rock that is small press publishing and the hard spot that is the overly controlling (yet not very helpful) publishing houses.

But I guess the key, at least according to this article, is to embrace the excitement needed to sell your book. Then again, I'm not one to bring batons to a book signing just to keep people's attention. Do I have to be flashy to be a successful writer? What happened to the good old days when writers lived quiet lives and only hung around in the cafes of Paris? Do we really have to resort to cheap tricks just to keep literature alive?