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End The Publishing Terminology or Be Damned

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This post, from Mick Rooney, originally appeared on his POD, Self-Publishing and Independent Publishing blog on 12/3/09.

I read some wonderful things today. I also read a lot of crap. In my travails of the morning, afternoon and evening, I came across the words of writers I hold and respect dearly. There were also other words written by writers I know less about. I still discovered the occasional gem, and a few real stinkers. I browsed those words and felt various thoughts and feelings of bemusement, frustration, enlightenment, elation and inspiration. For all of us who love reading words – you know the path may yield beauty and charm, as well as its share of cruelty and ugliness.

No. I wasn’t on a carefree day off work sauntering through a bright book emporium with some spare cash thrust into my pocket eagerly before I left the house; hoping all the time, I might stumble upon a few literary gems tucked away on a shelf. I wasn’t inside a bookshop today. Here’s where I was.
 
AbsoluteWrite, here and here.
 
Rachelle Gardner, here and here.
 

I could add another ten, but I think this is enough to be going on with. all of the sites are excellent and highly reputable sources of information on publishing, digitization, author advice and writing in general. What is it that binds all the provided links together?
 
The self-publishing and vanity publishing debate was always there – the impetus to the most recent vociferous debates stem directly from this publishing news story from Thomas Nelson, and another from Harlequin over the past few weeks. The self and vanity publishing definition links are wikipedia’s. I will broadly go with their consensus. My take on it is that self-publishing is a process of book publication where all actions and rights are owned, controlled and directly implemented by the author. Vanity publishing is the process of a third-party company, for a fee, printing and publishing an author’s book often without the controls of professional literary merit and evaluation, editorial direction, structured and effective marketing, sales distribution, and physical store presence – and may also include the author committing to an agreed purchase of book stock.
 
What the hell. Sure you’re all at it now. So let’s throw in another label and definition into the pot. It’s a very simple one. A definition that has been around pretty much since the first printing press was rolled out of the yard.
 
It’s called PUBLISHING.
 
Here’s the definition.
 

Read the rest of the post on Mick Rooney’s POD, Self-Publishing and Independent Publishing blog.

Heady Times

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Boy, these are heady times for Indie Authors.  The smoke is still settling so we’ll have to wait before all the implications are clear, but there are three developments that caught my eye, so far this week.

First, and to my old eyes, a healing sight indeed, is the recent announcement by Amazon CreateSpace (which also is my presonal POD Publisher) that their "Pro Plan" titles will have the option to add INGRAM DISTRIBUTION to their marketing plan. 

This is huge, as it will give self-published authors a much wider market exposure than they would have been able to secure alone.  It effectively can add you7r boo to the largest bookseller distributor and institutional sales catalogs. Book stores.  Libraries. Schools.  The markets I only dreamed of.

It meant that my cover price had to go up.  I had kept the price relatively low at $11.95, but that did not allow enough margin to allow the booksellers and distributor a rpoyalty/share, so I upped the cover price to $15.95, which will make me 52 cents per book sold, instead of my owing the publisher $2.70 eaqch time a book was sold.

The second thing to happen, was the reported reaction of various writer’s organizations when Harlequin rolled it’s POD operation into one of it’s imprint names.  It was reported in detail in Publishers Weekly. Sounded like a relatively smart way for a business to reduce operating costs and move forward into a leaner operations model, but I guess I was wrong.  Several writer’s groups, angered that they would now be in some way associated with self-publishing (Shudder! Horrors!), removed Harlequin from their approved publishers ranks.  Inclu8ded are such organizations as the Mystery Writers Assn. and the Romance Writers Assn.  Hmmmm.  I suppose none of the members of those organizations ever self-published any books at all. No…not that! 

Harlequin, responding in a puzzled mode, of course, indicated they would placate these organizations in some, to-be-determined manner.  We’ll have to see where this settles out, but it seems that "last one in" writers, too are resisting the changes in the wind leading to a more cost-effective publishing industry.  To me, under-educated, self-published writer that I am, to deny any fellow writer a recommended publisher in these hard times for fiction is ridiculous.

Last, a first edition EA Poe’s self-published 1827 first book — a book of poems, published in a run of 50 coipies when he was 18,  brought more than US$662,000 at auction.  Publishing Industry take note — some self-published authors work not only is quality writing, but some of them may actually be worth adding to one’s stable for a long-term investment.

All of this happened on the heels of a short four-day family vacation we take each December with our children and grand-kids.  We pile into a condo in the Berkshires and pray for snow.  This past week, while I was staring at the stark, bare trees and grey sky, a figure appeared from nowhere, hobbling along on a wooden staff.  She approached slowly and asked me "Have you ever seen a four-leaf clover?" I answered, "of course, but I’ve never found one."

She replied "I find them wherever I go" and extending her hand, with a fist full of bright green clover (It’s December, remember?) asked "Want one?"  I chose one, and thanked her.  I turned back to my unit’s porch, and by the time I looked back to give her a wave, she was gone!  But I have the clover — all four leaves, too!  Maybe my luck will change after all!  Maybe it will begin a much-awaited turnaround for the whole publishing industry — Indies included!

 

 

The Nuts and Bolts of Good Response

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Now that we’ve discussed all the background concepts in producing and effective small ad, it’s time to create the artwork. Just following a few simple considerations through the process will insure that your ad will be read, and hopefully, retained by your targeted market reader.

 

Size and position count

First, once you’ve settled upon the best size for your budget, determine if the medium will allow you to request positioning. Where your ad falls on a page will affect it’s effectiveness. For most smaller ads – smaller than full page banners, right hand top positioning will give your message better visibility and retention. This has been tested by media wonks for years, and it follows the science of eye movement on a page of written material. If that is not available then try for the next slot down the right hand column. Left hand columns, or outside columns on left hand pages, in a two-page spread layout, generally are not as effective. This is because the readers eye doesn’t pass over this position as often during a full read. If the page where your ad will run has only other small ads and no editorial content, I’d think twice before making a commitment there. Your ad will not creqate as effective a response in that situation.

Of course, if a poorly conceived, badly designed ad appears in the top-right position, it won’t be effective anyway, but it will get more visibility. Make sure your message is carried by as effective a vehicle possible. Then put it where it will do the most good.

 

Resolution, resolution, resolution.

The next most important consideration is to maximize the resolution of your ad. The majority of online venues will accept 72 dpi images. This is barely enough resolution to allow the legibility of small, or “fancy” typefaces. It can be adequate, if you choose your graphic elements, including type, for the low-resolution final product. If your medium will accept 96 dpi images, then produce your ad in this higher resolution, to allow better contrast, image detail, and type legibility.

You’ll be assembling your elements in your vector-based graphics program, using the import function to bring bitmapped images into the design. At this level, the type and linear graphics you bring into the program will be vector images, so that their resolution will be unlimited, sharp and very clean. From inside the vector program, adjust your bitmapped elements – logos, photographic elements, for best color, contrast and appearance on your monitor. Once you are completely satisfied with how your images appear, save a “baseline” copy of your design. Name it differently than the “working copy”. In case you have to return to the previous version.

 

Palettes – Color Fidelity

 You should also check the color palette used in your bitmapped image to be certain it will appear they way you intend it. First, in a transmitted light environment, such as a monitor screen, you want to be sure to use RGB palettes. If you are printing your ad on a paper page, then use CMYK Palettes, named after the four inks used in “process” printing: Cyan, Magenta, Yellow and blacK. Choosing the correct palette is critical, and with RGB palettes, you can also choose a “web-safe” palette, which is a more limited range of color that is constant across platforms online – just to be safe, when the actual color match is important.

 

Headline Type: A Work in Progress

 Next, refine the size, and shape of your type. Use vector type fonts such as TrueType fonts, not bitmapped fonts, which can’t be manipulated without distortion and edge definition issues. Using the pointer handle tools found in vector programs, you can pull your type into in-between sizes and shapes, for example, making the headline a bit wider to fill the space better. Again, use the “arm’s length” technique to check for legibility as you work.

One of my favorite techniques in vector layout work is the ability to “overlay” a headline either in a darker color than the bitmapped image beneath it or a lighter color or white, without the edge definition issues that can develop. Vector type can be sized, refined and then slid into position over an image seamlessly. You may also have a vector graphic (“line art”) image you’d like to include, and if you’re using a vector program, you’ll be able to dot he same thing, without edge issues.

 

Testing…Testing…

When you’ve massaged all your elements into the most satisfying, legible design you can, it’s a good idea to create a test page, by saving an appropriate copy of a web page from the site where your ad will appear. Save it with a filename you’ll be able to find, in a “working” directory you’ll be able to find.

 

Bitmaps…again…

Next, export your finished ad as a jpeg or a gif image. If you are using flat colors – non photographic elements – and web-friendly color palette, you may want to reduce the size of your ad by exporting it as a “gif” file, which will reduce the color depth to 8-bits – check your color fidelity, if that matters, and save it with a filename which incorporates the word “adtest”. For example adtest01,gif or jpg (adjust as necessary if you’re using a Mac).

To run the test on your monitor (or to print a text page, if your ad will run in print), import your ad image file into an html editing program that already has the test page open. Insert it into what is probably a table, just above the highest element in the column where it will appear – lower if top is not a position you can choose.

For print, using your vector program, open the test page file, then import your ad, positioning it over another ad of your size. Back away, and see if your ad still catches the eye amidst other ads. If not, adjust it. For a print test, you can print up a few pages and show them around, remembering comments you get.

The idea is to be sure your ad works as well on a page of editorial copy and other ads as it does when it stands alone in your design program, or on a proof you’ve printed. These kind of proofing tests are a really good use of that Photo Printer we spoke about a few months back. You can also print out a proof of your ad, and your test page, and cut and paste your ad into position the old-fashioned way! Years of making up these dummy pages – as I did in one of my earlier lives – makes you very handy with a jar of rubber cement!

 

Export and upload…

Once you’ve tweaked, pulled and tested to your satisfaction, return to your vector program and save your ad file using a filename which incorporates the word “final” and the date. Then export your ad art into an image file (jpeg or gif) for uploading, at the resolution you have decided to use. I always keep these files in a separate directory and almost always name the file using the book name and a qualifier so I know where it is to run.

Most online venues will host the transfer process using their own web-based software – you’ll “browse” which file you want to upload, and the browser software will upload it from your hard drive into the venue’s file system. An alternative, if you also have your own website, would be to upload the file into your server’s directory – or a new directory especially for online ads – using your ftp program.

In a perfect world, you’ll start selling books right away, and your bank account will inflate quickly. In the real world, you may see some sales begin after a few days or weeks’ time, depending on how effectively you chose the medium, how well-designed and targeted your ad is and many other variables. It’s all really a process, not a single step or short sequence of steps. The process is ongoing while the ad runs, until your determine that another ad will work better, and change your artwork. I recommend you change your artwork every month or so, unless your ad is running primarily for recognition. Just a new headline can renew interest, or a new background image, and so on.

 

One more thing…

Of course, there’s another element whose importance can’t be overstated, and that is luck. If you can figure out how to manipulate that, then sit me down for a lesson! That’s the one I want to learn! 

 

The Most Powerful Two Hours You'll Ever Spend as a Storyteller

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This post, from Larry Brooks, originally appeared on his Storyfix site on 11/19/09.

I’m about to introduce you to the most exhilarating and useful hands-on writing exercise I’ve ever experienced.  So effective, in fact, that it’s more a tool than it is a way to limber up the ol’ creative muscles.

So which is it?  An exercise or a tool?

Doesn’t matter.  Either way, I urge you – I  challenge you – to try this. 

Why?  Because just sitting there waiting for the blood to emerge from your forehead and plop onto the page in the form of an idea probably isn’t going to do the trick anytime soon.

If you’re blocked, this will unblock you. 

But that’s only one reason to give this a shot.

If you’re fuzzy about story structure, this will clear the fog. 

If you’re looking for a way to turn an idea into a story, this is like growth hormones for that seed. 

It’ll take you two to three hours to complete.  What comes of that investment of time, though, just might change – or even save – your writing life.

Your mission is to generically deconstruct a story.

It’s like shooting video of Tiger Woods’ golf swing.  You’re not ripping him off, you’re breaking down the fundamentals of what works.  When you then apply what you’ve learned to your own game, trust me, nobody will accuse you of plagiarizing greatness 

Because the principles of greatness are always generic, available to everybody.

When you’re finished, you’ll have a generic template for a story from your chosen genre, something you can apply to your own work as you see fit, in part or even in whole.

Or, at a minimum, you’ll have something that will enhance and reinforce your understanding of story architecture.

First step: go to the video store and rent a movie. 

Read the rest of the post on Storyfix.

An Exciting Opportunity

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I never dreamed that I would find myself at a writer’s workshop in Cedar Rapids, Iowa in October 2002. First of all, I didn’t think I was good enough at writing to put up the tuition of $400. To go to a writer’s workshop such as that I thought meant I not only needed to be serious about wanting to be an author (which I was) but be able to hold my own with other writers in the classes. I didn’t have one bit of confidence in myself, but Keystone Nursing Care Center did. For the administrator and board giving me such a wonderful opportunity I will be always grateful.

Here is what lead to my going to that workshop. The organization that many Iowa nursing homes are a member of had an essay contest each year and a photography contest. The essay had to be 500 words about a resident in the nursing home without mentioning the resident or nursing home. In 2001, I and others at the nursing home wrote an essay. The nursing home’s Senior Advocate committee had to pick a winner. I won so my entry went to the essay contest. Out of all the state entries, I won with "Floating Feathers Of Yesterdays". The head of the organization came to Keystone to present me with a $100 check at a reception the nursing home had for me. My essay was in several of the local newspapers.

That win gave me the incentive to try again the next year. So out of the essays submitted at the nursing home mine was again picked. "A Woman For All Seasons" is about a woman who had lived on her small farm, taking care of her cattle for as long as she was able. I admired her for how she had lived her life her way. While I was entering contests, I thought I might as well enter the photography contest. So I picked the woman I wrote the essay about as my subject. In the spring for years, I’d take a lamb and goat to the nursing home to show the residents. That year I took along a bottle of milk. I set the lamb in front of the woman’s recliner and handed her the bottle. In the picture, we could see the pure pleasure she experienced while feeding that lamb. The picture title said it all — "Bottle Full Of Memories".

The contest results call came one evening while I was working. The nurse had okayed it with the administrator to break the news to me. She mumbled that I had won the contests. Figuring the nurse wasn’t too up on what I had entered, I said, "Which one?" She just grinned at me. Suddenly her choice of plural "contests" hit me. I squeaked, "Both of them" "Yes!" The contests were judged blind so the judges had no way of knowing that I submitted both the essay and the photo until after they picked the winner. Nor did they realize right away that I had won the essay contest the year before. This was all cause for excitement at the nursing home.

Also, the double wins brought on another reception. A newly hired communication director came from West Des Moines to present me with certificates and a check for $200. I had the woman in my essay and photo up front to be with me. I presented her with a bouquet of flowers to thank her for being my subject matter. She was delighted to be the center of attention until she asked what time it was. She’d already missed five minutes of "The Young And The Restless" and nothing was more important that that soap opera.

For winning the contest I was about to receive a gift from the nursing home. I could not believe it when the administrator gave me the information that the board wanted me to pursue my writing and work on getting better. They paid for the Writer’s Workshop as a gift for winning the contests which is good PR for the nursing home. I was excited and nervous all rolled into one and had several weeks to worry about what I was getting into.

The communication director said when she presented me the certificates that I was a very good writer. She was impressed. With that to encourage me, I said if I could find another resident that was essay material I’d enter again next year and try for win number three. That wasn’t to be. Months in advance, I came up with an essay and polished it. When the contest rules came, a new one had been add. Last year’s winner could not enter. (I had prewarned the communication director.) The next year I again had an entry ready to go and found the contest had been dropped. Maybe not enough participation. That didn’t stop me from writing my essays about the residents. One became a eulogy at a resident’s visitation and funeral. A story about my mother was purchased by "Good Old Days" Magazine. Quite a few of my essays have placed in other contests. Best of all, I gave the residents a copy of the essays. Their families were delighted to read a story about their loved one.

Update: The National Novel Writing Month contest is over. I only had about half the 50,000 words I need to enter. I loved the challenge but just didn’t have the time to stay at the computer. Now I’m looking forward to next November. I’m ready to try again.

Now come back Thursday. I’ll tell you about the Kirkwood Writer’s Workshop.

　

　

An Exciting Opportunity

by

I never dreamed that I would find myself at a writer’s workshop in Cedar Rapids, Iowa in October 2002. First of all, I didn’t think I was good enough at writing to put up the tuition of $400. To go to a writer’s workshop such as that I thought meant I not only needed to be serious about wanting to be an author (which I was) but be able to hold my own with other writers in the classes. I didn’t have one bit of confidence in myself, but Keystone Nursing Care Center did. For the administrator and board giving me such a wonderful opportunity I will be always grateful.

Here is what lead to my going to that workshop. The organization that many Iowa nursing homes are a member of had an essay contest each year and a photography contest. The essay had to be 500 words about a resident in the nursing home without mentioning the resident or nursing home. In 2001, I and others at the nursing home wrote an essay. The nursing home’s Senior Advocate committee had to pick a winner. I won so my entry went to the essay contest. Out of all the state entries, I won with "Floating Feathers Of Yesterdays". The head of the organization came to Keystone to present me with a $100 check at a reception the nursing home had for me. My essay was in several of the local newspapers.

That win gave me the incentive to try again the next year. So out of the essays submitted at the nursing home mine was again picked. "A Woman For All Seasons" is about a woman who had lived on her small farm, taking care of her cattle for as long as she was able. I admired her for how she had lived her life her way. While I was entering contests, I thought I might as well enter the photography contest. So I picked the woman I wrote the essay about as my subject. In the spring for years, I’d take a lamb and goat to the nursing home to show the residents. That year I took along a bottle of milk. I set the lamb in front of the woman’s recliner and handed her the bottle. In the picture, we could see the pure pleasure she experienced while feeding that lamb. The picture title said it all — "Bottle Full Of Memories".

The contest results call came one evening while I was working. The nurse had okayed it with the administrator to break the news to me. She mumbled that I had won the contests. Figuring the nurse wasn’t too up on what I had entered, I said, "Which one?" She just grinned at me. Suddenly her choice of plural "contests" hit me. I squeaked, "Both of them" "Yes!" The contests were judged blind so the judges had no way of knowing that I submitted both the essay and the photo until after they picked the winner. Nor did they realize right away that I had won the essay contest the year before. This was all cause for excitement at the nursing home.

Also, the double wins brought on another reception. A newly hired communication director came from West Des Moines to present me with certificates and a check for $200. I had the woman in my essay and photo up front to be with me. I presented her with a bouquet of flowers to thank her for being my subject matter. She was delighted to be the center of attention until she asked what time it was. She’d already missed five minutes of "The Young And The Restless" and nothing was more important that that soap opera.

For winning the contest I was about to receive a gift from the nursing home. I could not believe it when the administrator gave me the information that the board wanted me to pursue my writing and work on getting better. They paid for the Writer’s Workshop as a gift for winning the contests which is good PR for the nursing home. I was excited and nervous all rolled into one and had several weeks to worry about what I was getting into.

The communication director said when she presented me the certificates that I was a very good writer. She was impressed. With that to encourage me, I said if I could find another resident that was essay material I’d enter again next year and try for win number three. That wasn’t to be. Months in advance, I came up with an essay and polished it. When the contest rules came, a new one had been add. Last year’s winner could not enter. (I had prewarned the communication director.) The next year I again had an entry ready to go and found the contest had been dropped. Maybe not enough participation. That didn’t stop me from writing my essays about the residents. One became a eulogy at a resident’s visitation and funeral. A story about my mother was purchased by "Good Old Days" Magazine. Quite a few of my essays have placed in other contests. Best of all, I gave the residents a copy of the essays. Their families were delighted to read a story about their loved one.

Update: The National Novel Writing Month contest is over. I only had about half the 50,000 words I need to enter. I loved the challenge but just didn’t have the time to stay at the computer. Now I’m looking forward to next November. I’m ready to try again.

Now come back Thursday. I’ll tell you about the Kirkwood Writer’s Workshop.

　

　

A Small Annoyance…

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Last evening, while watching what now passes for "news", I  sat through a new commercial for the new, Mitsubishi…"whatever".  LIke every other automobile commerical currently running, it featured the car as the addition to the proper, targeted (insert name here implying young, urban, upwardly mobile) lifestyle. 

There should have been people in the commercial — happily enjoying the ride, but thanks to the miracle of modern computer image manipulation and animation, only walking, talking "collections of personal accessories" including cellphones, sunglasses and headsets actually walked over from the curb and got in the car to drive away.

The people were rendered invisible, just their accessories were seen. In other words, you are what you …buy.

I guess the idea was that for the targeted market, this vehicle is just another accessory that confers status upon the owner by virtue of their having purchased it.  Yes, and of course, using it, plainly, for all to see.  What’s missing was the owner.

Of course, it didn’t offend me personally, as it was clearly targeted to a much more acquisition-oriented, younger market.  It made me laugh at first, then I began comparing it to other equally ridiculous automobile advertising, such as "My Name Is Ram. My tank is full."  I mean, who was the genius who penned that trainwreck, anyway? But if I were in my late 20s, and strove upwardly to attain the proper position in life, I would have been offended that "I" didn’t really count so long as my money could be spent.  Man as credit balance.

I really hope that my grandsons can appreciate how transparent this is all becoming.  At least in my day, the marketeers and hucksters gave you a show along with your snake oil.  Now, you’re expected to begin valuing yourself based upon which products you fall prey to.  That doesn’t bode too well for the future, does it? It seems to set us up for the day where the job of the self-appointed Gohhead will be to churn out a variety of products, and our job as the new serfs will be to gobble them up. Bon Appetit!

The Anatomy of Determination

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This essay, from Paul Graham, originally appeared on his website in September of 2009. While it’s geared toward investors and participants in start-up businesses, since authors (especially self-publishing authors) and small imprints are businesses, his comments and advice in this piece are also applicable to Publetariat’s audience.

Like all investors, we spend a lot of time trying to learn how to predict which startups will succeed. We probably spend more time thinking about it than most, because we invest the earliest. Prediction is usually all we have to rely on.

We learned quickly that the most important predictor of success is determination.

At first we thought it might be intelligence. Everyone likes to believe that’s what makes startups succeed. It makes a better story that a company won because its founders were so smart. The PR people and reporters who spread such stories probably believe them themselves. But while it certainly helps to be smart, it’s not the deciding factor. There are plenty of people as smart as Bill Gates who achieve nothing.

In most domains, talent is overrated compared to determination—partly because it makes a better story, partly because it gives onlookers an excuse for being lazy, and partly because after a while determination starts to look like talent.

I can’t think of any field in which determination is overrated, but the relative importance of determination and talent probably do vary somewhat. Talent probably matters more in types of work that are purer, in the sense that one is solving mostly a single type of problem instead of many different types. I suspect determination would not take you as far in math as it would in, say, organized crime.

I don’t mean to suggest by this comparison that types of work that depend more on talent are always more admirable. Most people would agree it’s more admirable to be good at math than memorizing long strings of digits, even though the latter depends more on natural ability.

Perhaps one reason people believe startup founders win by being smarter is that intelligence does matter more in technology startups than it used to in earlier types of companies. You probably do need to be a bit smarter to dominate Internet search than you had to be to dominate railroads or hotels or newspapers. And that’s probably an ongoing trend. But even in the highest of high tech industries, success still depends more on determination than brains.

If determination is so important, can we isolate its components? Are some more important than others? Are there some you can cultivate?
 

Read the rest of the essay on Paul Graham’s site.

From The Editor's Desk: Publetariat Takes A Holiday And Gives Thanks

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Publetariat staff will be unavailable from Wednesday, 11/25/09 through Sunday, 11/29/09 (in the Pacific time zone) in observance of the Thanksgiving holiday. New articles will still post on the usual days according to schedule, but no email or contact form correspondence will be answered, no comments will be moderated and no memberships will be processed until Monday, 11/30/09.

In keeping with the spirit of the holiday, I’d like to take this opportunity to express my personal gratitude to all of Publetariat’s contributors and just as importantly, if not more so, to you: Publetariat’s audience. After all, the wonderful work and input of Publetariat’s editorial roster doesn’t mean much on this site unless it means something to you.

Thank you for making Publetariat a part of your writing and publishing life. My aim in founding the site was to give self-publishers and small imprints a welcoming home on the web. I wanted Publetariat to be a place where their specific needs for industry news, assistance with the craft and business of authorship and publishing, and an interactive community would be met, and their informed decisions in publishing would be honored. I wanted Publetariat to be a place where they would finally get the recognition and respect they deserve. 

The credit for making that dream a reality rests with you, the Publetariat community.

I am deeply humbled by how quickly the site has grown in traffic and memberships since its launch on February 11 of this year, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t also express my gratitude to the larger community of kindred independent artists in every field, publishers, writers and authors of every stripe who’ve embraced Publetariat and have supported its vision even if they themselves are not involved in any way with self-publishing. 

So thank you, every one of you: self publishers, indie artists outside of publishing, micro and small imprint operators and staff, mainstream publishers, mainstream published authors, aspiring authors, industry watchers, literary and publishing professionals in all walks, readers, book bloggers, teachers, academics, members of the media and yes, even Publetariat’s critics. 

I wish all of you a happy and restful few days, and look forward to rejoining you Monday.

#fridayflash: Angelcake Excerpt

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This week, I present an excerpt from Angelcake: a screenplay I wrote and have been working on converting into a novel off and on for years. In the story, following her accidental death, Judy Stringer is pressed into service as an unlikely, otherworldly suicide interventionist. She must prevent three suicides, or spend the equivalent of three lives’ worth of life expectancy as an afterlife public service worker under a literal boss from Hell: a matronly shrew of a demon supervisor nicknamed Attila the Bun.

Sarah, seventeen, slender and pretty, sits on the edge of the tub gazing stupidly at a positive pregnancy test.  She wears a modest sundress and no make up. A low whine escapes from her and she quickly covers her mouth to muffle the noise. Her mother knocks on the door from the outside.

“Sarah honey, come on, it’s time for church.”

“Just a minute, Mom.”

Sarah stuffs the pregnancy test in her handbag, then goes to the sink and splashes some water on her face. She blots her face on a towel and tries to put on a normal expression as she looks at herself in the mirror. She can’t maintain it, her tears return. She opens the medicine cabinet and paws through its contents, looking for prescription drugs. All she finds is a bottle of aspirin. She closes the cabinet, reads the label, and notices Judy materializing behind her. The bottle falls from Sarah’s hand and her face registers awe.

“It won’t kill you,” Judy says, “but it will give you a nasty, bleeding ulcer. And it’s bad for the baby, too.”

Sarah spins around to face Judy and wipes away her tears, her voice halting and hopeful, her eyes glowing. “You know about the baby? Are you…an angel?”

“No, I—“ Judy notes the cross around Sarah’s neck and some religious bric-a-brac around the room. “Not yet, I mean. I’m not officially making with the wings and the harp and all, but I’m in the training program.”

Sarah falls to her knees and clutches at Judy’s dress. “I’ve done such an awful thing…and I’m an awful person!”

Judy pulls Sarah up and they sit on the edge of the tub together. Judy pulls a few sheets of toilet paper off the roll and offers them to Sarah. “And what about the father,” Judy asks. “Didn’t he have a little something to do with this?”

“Well…yes,” Sarah answers, accepting the tissue. “But he wasn’t who I thought he was. He said he loved me!  He said…a lot of things he didn’t mean.”

Judy puts an arm around Sarah’s shoulders and gives them a light squeeze. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I really, truly am. But what’s done is done. There’s no use crying about it and suicide is no solution.”

“But what can I do?! I can’t tell my Mom, she’ll kill me!”

Judy chuckles and waves a hand in the air dismissively. “No she won’t. Kids always think that, but it’s not true. She’ll be mad, sure. And probably disappointed, and worried. But she’s not going to kill you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Ten minutes later, Sarah and her mother sit at the small kitchen dinette table in silence. Sarah studies her mother’s stunned, blank face for some clue of how she’s taken the news. Abruptly, her mother pounces at Sarah in a rage, knocking Sarah off her chair and bellowing, “How could you?! What were you thinking?!”

Sarah scrambles into the corner, wedging herself behind the table. “Mama! Calm down!”

“I’ll calm down after I’m done with you!”

She grabs at Sarah’s dress and drags Sarah out from behind the table. Judy materializes between the two, affecting her most beatific expression and holding a hand out in front of her in the stereotypical ‘stop’ gesture.

“Unhandeth the child, O mother of Sarah!”

Sarah’s mother lets go of Sarah’s dress and backs away, into her chair. Sarah retreats to the corner. Judy whispers over her shoulder to Sarah, “You were right about her. My bad.”

Sarah’s mother gasps, “Are you—“

Not waiting for her to finish, Judy announces in her most heavenly-hosty voice, “Behold, I am an angel!” Feeling a little blasphemous, she adds, “More or less.”

Sarah cautiously emerges from behind the table and reaches for her mother’s hand. “Look, Mama!  She’s an angel sent to help us in our time of need and tribulation.”

Sarah’s mother bows her head in deference and fear. Judy puts her arms out to her sides and does her best angel impersonation.

“Verily, I sayeth unto you, that any mother who so…slayeth her daughter…who is with child…eth…” Judy struggles for words, then drops her arms to her sides, sits in the chair next to Sarah’s mother and says, “Look, can we just talk about this?”
 

 

 

The Fulfilling Facet: Emotional Influence

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This post, from Anthony James Barnett, originally appeared on his Tell Me A Story blog on 11/17/09 and is reprinted here in its entirety with his permission.

Emotional influence is sometimes the most ignored facet in novels. Emotion is important, not only when linked to what characters feel about themselves and others, but in the reaction they stir in readers.

But what is emotion? How do you create such an elusive element? Naming an emotion doesn’t produce it. We can declare our protagonists irritated, anxious, broken-hearted or suchlike, but it doesn’t generate the emotion in the reader. How then do we use this intangible feature in writing?

Emotion is the outcome of all the other elements.

  1. Consequence. There must be consequence. The degree of emotive reaction is a reflection of the character’s problem. Will there be incentive if the central character makes it, will there be tragedy if he doesn’t.
  2. Theme. The outcome of the story must be important in some way. The story must mean something. If the predicament doesn’t matter one way or another, readers won’t be bothered about the outcome.
  3. Struggle. There must not only be consequence, there must be serious tussle both inner and outer, otherwise no emotion will come from it. No matter how severe the crisis, if it is easily sorted, no one will care; no one will feel anything.
  4. Passion. Passion grows from the story’s significance. If the task is meaningless, there will be no feeling, no identity.
  5. Atmosphere. A story should have mood, ambience, atmosphere, call it what you will. Mood comes from all the restrained emotions that arise from the material elements of your story. It’s not enough to set a house in front of your characters; we need to know how they feel about it. Is it scary, full of love, what does it mean to them; how does it move them?
  6. Senses. Characters shouldn’t walk in a vacant space. Tell readers what is around them. Emotions can be constructed from sensory reaction even when there isn’t a problem. It won’t be a strong emotion, but it can exist as an entirety by itself.
  7. Moderation. Never give emotions too full rein when you’re displaying how a character feels, use moderation, it’s a good maxim. Play down the most moving events. Encounter in itself carries drama, and key sentiments become implicit without description.
  8. Limited detail. Be cautious of littering scenes with too much detail. It takes only a few well-chosen words to describe a setting. Humans don’t have time to respond to every element around them, and characters should not respond to everything either. Opt for the most valuable details; the reader will fill in the rest.

So maybe the lesson to be learned is to write with every single sense, including the sixth, but write with restraint. Remember, more than enough is too much. Use your descriptive powers with self-control. Make every word count.

A New Member In Our Family

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Just to prove I don’t think about writing books or selling them all the time, I’m going to tell you about a wedding I attended last weekend.

Remember my blog about going to a bridal shower in October for my husband’s niece. Last Saturday afternoon, the 14th, was the wedding. This was at St. Paul Methodist Church in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. A beautiful, old church in the round with a cornerstone dated 1913.

However, the understated, lovely wedding ceremony took place in the chapel. It was a ceremony that reminded me of yesteryears with simple, not too expensive planning. No attendants and only family from both sides to witness the event. The bride was absolutely gorgeous in her bridal gown, holding a bouquet of red roses and the groom very handsome in his tuxedo. Though the bride planned 99% of the wedding and reception, by the groom’s own admission, these two are well grounded young people who wanted to keep the ceremony simple.

The reception was for friends as well as family and a tribute to how popular the newlyweds are by how crowded the room was. The food was delicious. The four flavored multa tiered square cake was decorative as well as flavors for everyone. I hear there was one tier of lemon. By the time I got to the cake table the lemon cake was gone.

The reception was held on Mt. Vernon Road in a rustic area. A man went out in the parking lot for a breath of fresh air and swears he saw a five point buck meandering between the cars. Deer are thick everywhere in the area, but he was the only eye witness to a hunter’s dream of a five point buck.

Our celebration with the newlyweds didn’t stop with the reception. Since we were going to be in Cedar Rapids for a book signing the next day at Lemstone Christian Bookstore, we were invited to the couple’s for a soup supper and the wedding gift opening.

It’s nice to see the groom feels right at home as a member of this family, but then he has had five years to let us get use to him. He likes to tease, and I hear he can be a joker. I too like to tease so we should get along fine.

As we were putting on our coats to leave Sunday evening, I said I had gotten used to having two free suppers in a row on the newlyweds. What time was supper on Monday? The groom said he would set a bucket on the outside by the door. I would be expected to make a donation before I entered. I told him I knew meals on him was a good thing that was too good to last.

We look forward to seeing this busy couple on holidays and any time in between they want to visit.

Pondering: snippety-snip

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This post, from Lynne Connolly, originally appeared on The Good, The Bad and the Unread on 11/9/09, and is reprinted here in its entirety with her permission.

Several bloggers have answered comments on the AAR forums about blogging recently. In doing so, some have noticed a recent snippiness and touchiness in the reading community, from readers and from writers. I was hanging around at Wendy’s blog recently, something I do a lot, and she’s noticed something similar, too. Mrs. Giggles has spotted it. 

 

I think I have an inkling as to what might be going on, or at least some of it.LynneCs icon

Actions and consequences…

I heard a program on the radio this morning, “Whistleblowers” about Paul Moore and how he warned the bank HBOS about its risky strategies and its target-based culture, and how it and banks like it pushed consumers into taking too many risks. It was all about selling, recessionhe said and they didn’t look at the long term consequences, and the unbalanced risk it introduced.

Sound familiar? It should.

It’s happening in the book business, and it’s not all down to the recession. Before 2009, signs of strain were already showing. Historically, books have always followed the newspaper model of distribution – copies were distributed to suppliers, bookstores for the main part, and those that didn’t sell were returned. That meant that you could drop into your local bookstore and be confident of finding the book you wanted. It also meant a bucketload of returns. Then Anderson News, one of the biggest distributors went under.

Two things were happening. The supermarkets were buying books in bulk, undercutting traditional retailers and doing their own distribution. And the newspaper industry was failing. It would have made sense to try to do away with the “sale or return” system, but it was too convenient to the companies involved – the accounting and financing of the publishers would have had to be restructured, and that can’t be done quickly, and it was a good thing for the supermarkets, who wouldn’t have surplus stock to sell or dispose of.

Philippe Petit

Sell or die…

At the publishing houses, there were a number of fine editors who had a lot of control over the books the house took and what was done with them. It gave each house a distinct identity, and its authors were given relative artistic freedom. Now, no decision is made independent of the marketing and finance departments. The question was no longer asked, “Is this book good for us?” but “Can we sell enough copies?”

A carefully balanced portfolio of bestsellers, middle ground authors and risky chances that could take off in a big way or could bomb spectacularly, was abandoned for the best seller model. Big authors, controversial themes, with big money put behind them. Middle ground authors, career authors with reputations but no huge sales were dropped. I’ve met a few, and while being resilient and determined to weather the storm, there’s a core of unhappiness and cynicism that just wasn’t there before. Existing authors are sometimes desperately chasing targets, because if their current book doesn’t sell up to target, they’re dropped. No second chances.

wolvesThe publishing business has gone from brutal to savage, from relatively civilised to a jungle culture. If you don’t sell, you’re gone. No benefit of the doubt, no “see what your next title does,” no “this will be a slow burner.” Without that attitude, we wouldn’t have had The Lord of the Rings, or The Chronicles of Narnia, or even Dorothy Dunnett’s Lymond Chronicles, all series that became massive sellers, but had relatively slow starts.

Wait, we don’t get them, do we? Not any more. A series has to start with a huge bang and go on to sell and sell, otherwise it’s gone. A writer with a three-book contract will see her books cut off after the second, even the first, leaving the readers hungry for the last ones, and increasingly determined not to buy a series until it’s all out. So sales at first are low, and more get cut. A self fulfilling prophecy.

Big publishers are struggling to stay afloat. If it weren’t for cash reserves and the massive profits they stand to make by selling e-books and not passing on savings to authors or readers, they’d probably go under. Midlist authors are going to the e-publishers, giving up or trying for the big one. Or writing for Harlequin, which is taking serious note of the market and going from strength to strength.

Ahead of the curve…

Harlequin always had the drop on other publishers with its direct mail order service, which didn’t depend on distributors or returns. It had a regular audience and after slipping behind in the late 1990’s, turned its lines around and rejuvenated or dropped them. And Harlequin has an established, successful e-bookstore.

You’d expect me to say e-publishing is where the future is because I write for e-publishers. Well that’s not why I do it. I’ve had chances to write for others, but the offer or the money wasn’t quite right. I promised myself I’d do this to make myself happy, not to go for the big bucks or the huge sales. As it happens, I think I’ve fallen into the right part of the industry. Right for me, right for the future.

No, I don’t think we’ll see the end of the paper book. It’s a transition. But the sale-or-return culture, plus increasing costs in distribution and production, plus increasing pressure from ecologists has all pushed producers of print to think again. It’s been coming for a long time, from the day when Rupert Murdoch pushed the print unions to breaking point and then smashed them, from the day when Anderson’s closed its doors, to when Wal-Mart became indispensable to many people and one-stop shopping became important.

Make a fast splash…

So, back to the point of the article. Writers and readers getting snippy. Of course there’s no one reason. Writers are being pressured to write the big one, the big series, the High Concept book, something that is different but stays the same. Nobody’s telling them to, it’s just sp_freddiethe way “the market” is going. Fewer authors, higher sales per unit. Splashy, lots of action, lots of sex.

For some writers, that’s exactly what they want to do. Others don’t, their metier runs to a different kind of book and they’re getting short shrift now. The chase for the next big thing has resulted in markets rising and falling ever faster. Right now it’s urban fantasy, next it’s steampunk, but if you aren’t already in there and working hard, either close to publication or accepted, then forget it, because for the writer, that’s over. The publishers have all the authors they want in that genre and you’re going to have to look for something else, something with a platform, a high concept, a distinct genre.

This is making writers edgy. They’re putting out books faster, and each book is getting a little less theirs, a little more of a product. Less love is going into creating it. Editors are all about buying the next book and spotting the next trend, not nurturing the writers they’ve already bought. It’s not their fault, it’s just the way the market is going.

Readers can only buy what is in the bookstores. If you love paranormal but you hate the market leaders, you’ll look for something else, pick up the next book with a great cover and blurb. Maybe you’ll find something. But rarely a book with great depth, something that speaks to your soul. It’s always been like that, there have always been splashy, dramatic books, and good luck to them. We all need one of those to read from time to time. But readers want more, they want different, and it’s getting harder to find. It’s not the reader’s concern to analyse and decide what they want. Why should they? But if they don’t find what they want, they’ll move on to videos, video games, other genres.

So writers, edgy with the increased pressures and with writing more books are snipping at readers, and readers, dissatisfied but not quite knowing why, are snipping back.

Unique-largeThere are always exceptions, always a great book, always an author who ploughs her own furrow, but it’s the general trends, not individual greatness or otherwise that is driving the market. Always the Pareto rule, the 80:20 ratio that goes into the marketing and finance departments. There’s a reason for the saying “the exception proves the rule.”

Plus it’s the change of the season, and that always brings a bit of disturbance. So maybe it’s just the weather.

After The Book Signing

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Book Signing

Sunday was a good day for me as an author. What’s better than a book signing in a bookstore, sitting with three other authors. I feel like I have much I need to know about being an author and I always learn from conversations with other writers and book buyers. Since my topic – Alzheimer’s – is a heavy one I always hope that I helped a caregiver or someone struggling with the prospect of dementia in their future.

There were four of us with stacks of books in front of us. Kent Stock, Marion, Iowa, the coach from "The Final Season" fame has written a book along the same lines titled "Heading For Home". Karen Roth, Austin Texas, has a new, sequel, fictional book titled "My Portion Forever". Her first book is "Found On 16th Avenue" which is set in Czech Village in Cedar Rapids, Iowa where she grew up. A doctor, Mary Ann Nelson has a book on child care and one on Elder Care. My books were about Alzheimer’s – "Open A Window – Alzheimer’s Caregiver Handbook" ISBN 1438244991 and "Hello Alzheimer’s Good Bye Dad – A Daughter’s Journal" ISBN 1438278276.  Also sold on Amazon

On one end of the table, Karen Roth had a built in following because she grew up in Czech Village. You may remember that is the area hit by the flood in 2008. Old friends and relatives, along with customers who had her first book, lined up to greet her and buy books so she could sign them.

On the other end, Kent Stock had customers who remembered the Norway baseball team as I did or were sports fans. I bought one of Kent’s books because I am remember those exciting days in Norway. (Besides I wanted his autograph). I could get the signed book on his website but that wasn’t the same as in person. And I told him I might not ever get to see him again. He said now that I said that we would probably run into each other several times. I said, "Hopefully at another book signing." I’m ready.

Next to me on the other side was Dr. Nelson. She seemed interested in my books and my foundation for writing such books. I’m always willing to explain my years of working with people who had Alzheimer’s and some of what I was taught by my experiences.

Three customers stood nearby discussing what they liked to read. I over heard one lady say she read all the Amish books she could find. When Mary Ann Nelson asked me what else I had written I was telling her about my two Amish books. I heard the customer expel an OH! As if she was thinking there is more books that might interest her. With so much going on around me, I’m hoping she picked up one of my business cards and plans to follow up on my books.

Between customers the four of us authors had a few moments to learn about each other and our books and writing and publishing experiences. We exchanged websites so here are the ones you should check out if you like to help out Iowa authors.

Kent Stock – www.kentstock.com

Karen Roth – www.karenrothbooks.com

Fay Risner – www.booksbyfaybookstore.weebly.com

Dr. Nelson doesn’t have a website for her books but you can ask for them at Lemstone Christian Bookstore in Collins Plaza, Cedar Rapids, Iowa and I’m sure many other places. The large, hard cover books are full of educational information designed to help.

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

#fridayflash: The Love of a Cat

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There was once a cat who loved a woman.

Actually there are often cats who love women, but it’s usually just a passing fancy quickly outgrown with kittenhood. This was a special case.

First, there was the matter of his name. She didn’t give him one right away, as so many humans do, based only on the color of his fur, or his propensity toward (or away from) play. Gathering him into her lap like a sleek, black puddle, she said, “You already have a name. All cats do. I just have to guess it.”

For days after bringing him into her small, tidy apartment, she’d periodically toss out a candidate and watch for his reaction. He wasn’t sure if he already had a name or not but he reveled in the power of choosing, and in her attention. “Winston?” she asked, and he went on purring, looking impassively up at her. A few hours later, “Henry?” as he chased paper balls around the room; he didn’t react. The next day she tried again, lifting his chin up so she could look directly into the giant, golden marbles of his eyes. “Horus?” “Apollo?” “Anansi?” “Caspar?” “Merlin?” Stately, regal names all, but none resonated with the cat.

In the morning she announced, “I have it! I know your name.” He hopped up onto a barstool expectantly. “Rama.” The cat felt a strange, ticklish sensation in his chest. He raised himself on his hind legs, lifted a forepaw and gently placed it on her cheek. “I knew it!” She exclaimed, scooping him up in her arms. “Rama was a prince of India, and you are a prince of cats!”

He knew he wasn’t really a prince of cats; cat government is parliamentary and there hasn’t been a feline ruling class since the days of ancient Egypt. But he did know he loved her then. He reached out to bat at a strand that had escaped from the long, gray braid draped over her shoulder, and she indulged him, bouncing the strand in front of him as if it were a bit of string, smiling, her eyes sparkling. He didn’t notice the many lines in her soft, translucent skin, or the brown spots on her hands and face. He saw only beauty, joy and love in her.

Eventually Rama learned her name, when another woman came to visit. The other woman called her “Sarah”, and Sarah called the other woman “Hope”. By listening carefully when they talked, Rama learned Hope was Sarah’s younger sister. Hope came to visit Sarah every week on Friday afternoons, and she liked Rama just as much as her sister did. For Rama’s part, he liked Hope well enough, but it was a feeble sentiment compared to his love for Sarah. As Rama grew he came to understand things about Sarah, and her routines. Except for her weekly trip to the corner market and her increasingly frequent doctor visits, Sarah and Rama were together all the time. She was a quiet, stay at home sort of person, and that suited Rama very well.

He learned to read as most housecats do, by waiting until Sarah had a book, magazine or newspaper open and unceremoniously plopping himself into her lap to look on. Humans think cats do this as a gambit for attention, and that’s just how cats like it since humans can be such a nervous, unpredictable lot when it comes to things they can’t explain. Sarah would continue reading, absently stroking his back and scratching his ears, periodically turning to him to discuss whatever it was they were reading.

“Can you believe that Angelina Jolie is pregnant again?!” Rama didn’t understand what was so shocking about this, since Cinnamon, the female cat down the street, had had two litters a year for the past three years running, and wasn’t showing any signs of slowing down. But he humored Sarah and kept his opinions to himself.

One afternoon, Rama woke to a piercing, mechanical wail. It seemed to be coming from the necklace Sarah always wore. The pendant had a little red dot in the center, and now it was flashing. Sarah lay there, her eyes open, but still. He rubbed his head as hard as he could against her face to rouse her, but she didn’t react. She didn’t reach out to run a finger along his jaw, or rub under his chin like she usually did, but he didn’t give up. Soon a pair of large men dragging a bed on wheels burst through the front door. One of them grabbed Rama and tossed him aside like a sack of flour, and when Rama tried to get back to Sarah the other man shut him up in the bathroom. Rama screamed himself hoarse, until finally the door opened. He raced out to Sarah, but she was gone.

He dashed around the apartment, crying out for her, inconsolable. He was standing on the bed he’d shared with Sarah, keening in a scratchy whisper that was all that was left of his voice when Hope found him. “Rama?” she asked, tentatively.

He fell silent and his head whipped around. It was definitely Hope, but something was different about her. Her eyes were red, and her face was puffy and pale. She threw herself on the bed and did something Rama had never seen Sarah do, didn’t even know humans could do: she wailed the death wail, and then he knew Sarah was never coming back. Hope reached for him and hugged him close. He didn’t want to be hugged by anyone but Sarah, but as much as it shamed him, he abandoned himself to the comforting feeling.

And so he went to live with Hope, who was married, and had children and grandchildren who often came to visit. They would all fawn over Rama, petting him and scratching his head for as long as he would allow, but he seemed indifferent to their attention. Hope’s husband would often complain about Rama’s standoffish nature, but Hope knew Rama’s nature all too well. His heart was broken by Sarah, and he would never love another.