Everything wrong with publishing: Marc Peyser (thief) and other assorted thieves at Newsweek

Thursday 5/8/25

It has always been this way. There has almost exclusively been what you see in these pages from the people of publishing ever since I began. The evil, the discrimination, the clannishness, the theft, the criminality.

I'm going to show you how long this has been going on by putting up something that happened with Newsweek eighteen years ago in June and July 2007. Which also attests that I forget nothing. If you are one of these people doing these things and you are not up on here yet, you are simply not up on here yet. I didn't forgot. It's coming.

I don't need to lay things out here much other than to say that the first email you see from me--which itself was a follow-up, because it's not like these people can be professional and simply respond; they make it so you have to chase them and grovel before them, when the last thing you want to do in this world, just about, is write these people any more than you have to, because they are revolting. That was something that our dumb, unhinged, manic old friend Raluca Albu didn't understand. Or was so unhinged and manic that she acted like she didn't, and I bet you anything it was the latter.

What I thought in seeing this letter from nearly-twenty-years-ago-me was just how put together I sounded. I was always this way along the way with these people. That was my tone, my professionalism, my thoroughness. And I just got shat on and shat on and shat on and shat on.

Because I know what some people would like to think. That I must have been going around all of these years, swearing at people, going nuts, making threats--you know, the kinds of things these people do--and so that was why these other things happened to me. It wasn't bigotry and discrimination and envy; it was my fault, in other words.

But it's impossible to think that if anyone knows me at all or has read this journal at all or has seen what is now myriad examples of my life in hell with these evil people and how I always acquit myself.

This correspondence is with one Marc Peyser. He's not at Newsweek anymore. Does it matter where he is? Apparently, his publisher is Penguin Random House (who published his book, Hissing Cousins--God, that's embarrassing; Hissing Cousins? Really?) where our buddy Mark Warren worked, and he's now at Johnson and Johnson--yes, that Johnson and Johnson. But a number of the people who were at Newsweek then are there presently. These jobs can be like that--these people get them, and then stay on until death, because where else are they going to go, what else are they going to do? They want to rule a fiefdom and indulge themselves as fully as possible as the petty, power-tripping asshole that they are.

Does it matter to any of these people in publishing or people in the world that someone acted like this? Didn't matter with Mark Warren. Won't stop you from getting a Pulitzer. But imagine if this happened to Roxane Gay--granted, a bully and a bad writer and a bad person--with her following, or a following of a few thousand vocal people. The career would be over for a Marc Peyser or a Mark Warren. Instead, you can get all that you don't deserve, so long as you know the right people and suck as much as they suck.

No one here is going to deny or reward anyone else based on what's right and wrong and the quality or lack thereof of their work. It's like David Remnick with Jeffrey Toobin. The latter, who was married with kids, followed women home from parties in cabs and then hopped out to inquire if he could anally fist them. That was reported. But, there wasn't outcry. Remnick knew what Toobin was doing--sexually harassing women on the streets of New York. David Remnick didn't care.

But when Toobin was then caught masturbating on a New Yorker staffer Zoom call, he became a punchline because of the nature of the act. Was it worse? No. It was obviously terrible. But not worse. Because it created a buzz and therefore embarrassment for David Remnick, David Remnick fired Toobin. The same David Remnick who didn't care when Jeffrey Toobin was literally sexually harassing women on the streets of New York and making them feel unsafe.

That's how these people are. Someone could be raping children--raping your children--and these other people amongst them would continue to reward, pay, hype, and award that rapist in this industry, if no one was talking about it. They wouldn't care at all. When it's just me saying these things here--true as everyone in this industry knows them to be--not enough happens. It's going to take more. Other voices. Some numbers.

I see this now after these eighteen years, and it's so obvious to me exactly where this was going--what this scumbag in Marc Peyser was up to--from the start. You'll see that, too. Pay attention to the dates when you read through this correspondence. They say a lot in terms of what this person was doing all along, and my saint-like patience that I've always exhibited in these decades of dealing with these evil people. Keep that in mind with the likes of that comment about why no one gets back to me--it's your fault, abuse victim--from the manic, AI-loving Raluca Albu.

Colin Fleming to Newsweek deputy editor Marc Peyser, June 8, 2007:

Dear Marc,

Just following-up on that idea that Ray Sawhill advised me to throw your way. Again, I write for The Nation, The Weekly Standard, Smithsonian, Art in America, Metropolis, Rolling Stone, and the SF Chronicle. Thanks for your time.

I had been doing this for Vanity Fair, but the ever-capricious Mr. Carter backed out just as I was about to get going (the space was gobbled up by a staffer), leaving me with plenty of material for what I'm sure will make for a bang-up narrative.

The subject is the machinations centered around the bound to be controversial and endlessly debated legitimacy of thirty-two alleged Jackson Pollock paintings--which are being put together in an exhibition--that will impact how we regard the still-polarizing artist.

The paintings were found by Alex Matter in a locker belonging to his late father, in 2002, who was a close friend of the famed painter. The sum "take" on all of this should be quite a doozy, with physicists, historians, forensic experts, you name it, weighing in on whether these are actual Pollock paintings, which would add a whole new chapter of study to his legacy. The paintings will first be on display at my alma mater, Boston College, in September--and I have some "ins" there, to really probe this--before going off on a grand tour.

Anyway, I've been at this for a while. I've what seems an avenue for access into the Matter family, and I've been up to my hips in some of the forensic reports (tests are currently being conducted at Harvard). Among recent developments was the rumor that Matter had already lined up sales for some of the canvases, his camp then later insisting that they'd merely

promised a sales percentage, plus insurance costs, to the fellow currently minding them.

Even the museum saga is not without controversy: the works were first going to be displayed in Syracuse, but then Matter backed out, and went with BC instead--which, I grant, is an odd choice, given that's it's a tiny little museum in an academic building (although they did have a

landmark Caravaggio show there a couple years ago).

For whatever reason, Pollock scholars have always tended to work in tandem. Well, partnerships are already busting up over these paintings, which have art types really going at it tooth and nail already, with the person generally cited as the leading Pollock scholar, Ellen Landau, proving a real lightning rod. She insists, passionately, that the canvases are legit. One problem is that the forensic reports have denoted paint pigments that weren't commercially available until the nineties. Then again, that's explained away easily enough--paints do acquire trace amounts of what's around them, and who knows if some conservator came along and tried to do his bit. In other words, there's going to be evidence for and against these paintings being real. It'll be interesting to see what impact these canvases have on the booming auction market, since they could well set a precedent for disputed works.

Thanks, Marc.

Best,

Colin

Peyser to Fleming, June 8, 2007:

Colin: Obviously, this is all very interesting. Let me ask around here and see what others think. Feel free to bother me if I don't get back to you in a few days. Marc

Fleming to Peyser, June 14, 2007:

Hi Marc,

Just checking in on Pollock...many thanks....

Colin

Peyser to Fleming, June 14, 2007:

Haven't had much time to focus on it but will try soon.

Fleming to Peyser, June 21, 2007:

Hello my good sir...just asking after Pollock, tho I imagine you're still

swamped....but when you have a second...

Peyser to Fleming, June 21, 2007:

Yes. Still am. Will try  very, very hard to call you tomorrow.

Fleming to Peyser, July 9, 2007:

Hi Marc,

Just checking in on Pollock...

Best,

Peyser to Fleming, July 9, 2007:

Still trying to work it out. I think I told you that it's kind of an unusual situation in that we almost never use stories by freelancers, and now that some of the on-staff folks have heard the piece might go to someone else, they're getting their backs up a bit. One thing that would

help is if you could give me a list of the folks you've already interviewed, to see if it even makes sense for someone here to attempt to catch up to what you've already done. Thanks

As you can see: He's just told me they're stealing from me. Easy as you please. Like this is fine. The way it should be.

And look at me here: Still the good guy. Still hanging in.

Fleming to Peyser, July 9, 2007:

Most of what I've done, in terms of talking to folks, has been pretty informal

(a friend of mine is a conservationist at Harvard, for instance, and I've talked to her at length, and some of the people I know out at BC). But I could give you some names of people I'm all set to roll with formally....Narayan Khandekar is the big one; he headed up the testing at Harvard. I'm also slated to talk to the woman who is curating the BC exhibit. Not sure I understand, though, what you mean about catching up to what I've already done...

Peyser to Fleming, July 9, 2007:

In the event that the powers that be here decide that a staff person should do a piece. To the degree that you've done a lot of the legwork already, I could argue that it's simply more practical for an outsider (you) to write it, as opposed to one of our own. I thought you'd said

you'd done about 70 percent of the reporting already. No? This is obviously a big, complex story (and one we've talked about ourselves off and on), so I need a strong reason to subvert our usual methods.

Fleming to Peyser, July 9, 2007:

Well, I have done a lot of legwork....tracking down reports, pouring through reports, charting out the whole convoluted story, talking to people I know in the Boston art world, going out to BC and doing my due diligence there a dozen times; the curator, the chief Harvard guy, that's just finishing touches (in terms of the hours and hours of work), I was thinking. That's not going

to be hard.

And I am here. And I am involved in the Boston art scene, from the university to the museum level. I have been at this since last fall. I am up on most of the technologies used (I could give a lecture on spectroscopy at this point), some of which have hardly been used previously. I was just waiting until something official came through before talking to the lead Harvard guy and the woman who's been thrown to the lions in having to curate the exhibit.

For no other reason than I'd be concerned I was wasting someone's time. I certainly was

being honest with you...I've sunk hundreds of hours of my life into this. Also, I believe you were talking about a piece that wasn't too, too long, which is also why I was holding off on talking to Khandekar until I knew what you wanted, length-wise. In addition to all of the national art magazines I write for, I also write for the very well regarded Art New England,

so this is my beat...so to speak. I have enough material for a 4000 word story, I'd say. But, obviously, we're not doing a 4,000 word story. You could do 4,000 on the technology alone, if you really understand it.

But I got the impression we're talking something 800-1000 words long; in which case, there'd be, what, six, seven, probably less than ten quotes? And they'll come from two or three people. Whom I will talk to. But as for legwork, I've been immersed in

this story since September or so. I don't think many people can make that claim! And yeah, being here has certainly helped, versus, say, being in Oregon, and I know this thing up and down, from the reports to the technology to Matter and his background and to Pollock frankly, a scholarly interest of mine for most of my life.

Throw the alma mater thing into the mix, a place where I spend half my time doing research anyway--a connection which I think gives me a leg up with the museum folk--and I hope a strong case is made for an exception to the normal way of things. I doubt this counts for much, but I did also bring the idea/story to the magazine's attention, and I suspect there was a strong chance that none of this would've

been covered at all.

I'm obviously just trying not to be robbed at that point.

Peyser to Fleming, July 9, 2007:

OK, will let you know when I do. thanks

And he had already done that, just as obviously, and been doing it all along. No sweat, no fuss, no guilt, no compunction. It gets worse now. I'm not proud of what I did next, looking at this here on the morning of May 8, 2025. Because it's like I'm playing right into my abuser's hands. I was just trying to work, you know? And not be wronged. Not be stolen from. But now I'm basically apologizing to an abuser. Which is how they like it.

Fleming to Peyser, July 9, 2007:

Hope I haven't put you in an awkward position. I feel like I have to prove that I've done a lot of work here, so if there is anything you want, or someone else wants, to put their mind at ease, just let me know (grill me if you'd like!) I didn't idly bring this along on a whim....and I do appreciate you going to bat on my behalf.

It's heartbreaking, isn't it? Imagine just that, only this--and much worse--for nearly thirty years? How could you live? Stay alive? And you're doing work that all of these people added together could never come close to touching. And you are denied your chance. You are denied getting to the world with that work. Here it was this Pollock thing. But more importantly it was and is "Fitty," Cheer Pack, a Beatles book, "Best Present Ever," "Big Bob and Little Bob," the stairs book, and so on.

It gets worse again here. Reading this again now, I cannot believe--though, of course, I can--that he said this to me.

Peyser to Fleming, July 9, 2007:

I completely understand and I appreciate your willingness to be grilled. You didn't put me in an awkward position, I did that myself by having the temerity to consider a non-Newsweeker for the story. Hope to have an answer soon, considering that time is growing short.

One thing I haven't asked is how much you generally get paid for your freelance pieces--assuming that the honor of having a byline in Newsweek isn't compensation enough.

...assuming that the honor of having a byline in Newsweek isn't compensation enough.

Yeah...I know...what can you even say?

And you know what? I played along with that, too. I am ashamed of my former self reading this. I was not a Zulu warrior back then.

Fleming to Peyser, July 9, 2007:

I just want to do this for you....I typically get a dollar a word. I'll do it for a pittance here, because doing something for Newsweek is a massive deal to me. So whatever you can scrape together, I'll treat as the absolute best you could do, no matter what it is....more interested in the byline, with you guys, to be honest. Big point of pride.

Peyser to Fleming, July 9, 2007:

OK, thanks very much

Peyser to Fleming, July 13, 2007:

Colin: Are you going to be around on Monday? I think we're finally figuring this all out on our side, so it would be great to try to get things rolling. Thanks

I knew what was coming--they had taken the idea and they wanted my materials. To plug that leg work I'd done, if you will, into their cookie-cutter formula. They weren't just stealing from me--they wanted to use me some more. And finally, I acted with some self-respect, which I'm at least mildly heartened to see this morning, though it won't do anything for you, it seems, in this world, in terms of making the living of your life easier, or even making your life livable. I think so much about death now. Constantly. I'm scared. I feel like I've been unmoored from that idea of always trying to stay alive, and that there are other possibilities become realer and realer for me. But, that's not really in the spirit of this entry, so let's just wrap up...

Fleming to Peyser, July 13, 2007:

Hi Marc,

Just wanted to get back to you regards Pollock. Turns out I'm going to bow out at this point. I'm just not that comfortable with the arrangement, which is pretty far afield for me. I found a venue where I can just do what I normally do and write, rather than report, the story, but I do appreciate you taking a chance to go against the grain a bit and all of your efforts on my behalf.

Best,

Colin

Classy to the last. That's your villain, by the way. That's how he's always conducted himself with these people. That's the person who's been demonized. The victim who has been blamed. And been made to pay with his life, and what's really more than his life. There's a bit of a double meaning--you'd have to be sharp-eyed to spot it, or know me and my story, and my art--but that part about writing rather than reporting the story is telling. I'm not just talking about not being used. I'm not a journalist. I'm not a freelancer. I'm something else. My own thing. And that's a writer unlike any writer there has been or will be. A writer unlike other writers.

//////

And that's the end of it. I'm taking the commentary out of all-caps now, since it's not woven throughout.

It made my physically sick to read all of this again this morning.

You have to understand, and I'm sure you do, but it's worth saying again: To these people, I am the villain. To Marc Peyser, I was the villain. When I write infinitely better than them, I am the villain. That is why the likes of Carolyn Kuebler and Michael Ray hate me. Sigrid Rausing. Etc. etc. etc. If you're a troll, and you want to try and blame these pages, you can't do it. All of this evil happened first and it happened usually for years, or decades. I didn't start with this type of public documentation. I eventually had no other choice.

We can do all the names here. We don't have to right now. You have someone they don't hate who anally raped women on his desk at work. He traded sex for publication. His wife was in on it. Didn't stop her from being picked up by a major newspaper. These people look after each other, no matter what--unless, that is, there's public ridicule and consequences because enough people are speaking out and calling for their neck. Otherwise? They're okay with anything--any criminality, any degree of turpitude, any degree of bad writing--from one of their own. Allison Wright of the VQR knew about this person I just referenced, and joked to me about him. Made a lighthearted remark. "That's just so and so being so and so." Ha ha ha, just some of those cutesy rapes! She hates me. She's a woman. Obviously. A woman here will be pro-rapist if that rapist is one of their own, but hate--and want dead--the good person who is the unquantifiably better writer than they are.

That's what you're dealing with. That's the reality of this industry.

All I do is work harder than anyone, write better than anyone, know more than anyone, and run stairs. That is all I do. I fight not just the good fight, but the worthiest fight, because the world can't keep going like this, and I have work for the world to make a difference so that it doesn't. I am honorable and good and kind. I don't hurt anyone.

And no one could be more hated than I am by these people. This is but one example of tens of thousands I could have put here this morning. There is no let-up from this type of thing. This is all it is, pretty much. If you try to deal with someone here, this--or worse--is what will happen. Then it's the blog. It's these pages. Because it's very easy to document, for anyone who sees the entry to know what's what, as to the evil, the incompetence, the discrimination. It's blatant. I honestly can't imagine what's more blatant.

You can put that out there, but if no one else does anything because no one cares about anything, or cares about right or wrong, or likes seeing someone smarter than they are suffer, and couldn't care less that the world is being denied that which it could use--and needs--so much, then it's just truths on a page. A public page, sure, but without anyone else, without other voices, without support, spreading the word, it's like it's hidden in plain view.

All I can do is keep trying, be brave, be strong, and not give up.

How'd it go with that place? How do you think? The Pollock piece eventually came out, but that was at a venue with another evil person. And that association actually went for a while--as recently as late 2023, when an act of evil was prevented--and one four years in the making--only because I said I'd document what this person had done in these pages. Then he stood down. He didn't want that.

You know what? I'm going to anyway. I don't owe anyone anything who fucks with me, ever, let alone fucks with me for years. You can stop fucking with me and we'll just move forward, but it's going to be more than just stopping. It has to be worth it for me and in line with what I deserve. Otherwise, no.

But we'll leave that guy for a future date, and link back to this entry when we talk about that other association that began with the publication of the Jackson Pollock piece, which was used for the cover, though without my name on that cover, of course, and the names of other people in the magazine instead, because they were this guy's cronies--and still are--and I'm just the guy who writes better than everyone and who isn't your chum, your relative, your colleague, but really--because these people are so twisted--your worst nightmare for that very reason. He who must be denied, stopped, buried, kept from advancing and being seen.