What's in it for the Boys?

Amanda Hocking wrote about an article she read on the NY Times Sunday Book Review about boys and their reading habits that I found interesting. Basically, what the article said is that the numbers of boys who read is because current YA books "...lack the tough, edgy story lines that allow boys a private place to reflect on the inner fears of failure and humiliation they try so hard to brush over. Editors who ask writers of books for boys to include girl characters — for commercial reasons — further blunt the edges."

While the article did mention some specific books targeting boys, I think the problem is simpler and more basic. Boys do read, but the boys who read books early in life are usually the boys whose time is not consumed by sports or a lot of outside activities. With all the schoolwork and extra curricular activities and sports, who has time to read for pleasure? There are only so many hours in a day.

I do agree, however, that the reading landscape is much different now than it was in the 1950s and 1960s, and even into the 1970s, and has become more constricted because of the fear of upsetting parents and creating yet another war over what books should and should not be allowed. The classics are safe and time-tested and edgier current novels less so. Boys began reading children's books about explorers and then moved on to adult males like Heinlein, Hemingway, and Steinbeck. Nowadays, boys move from children's books, if they read at all, and are flummoxed at the length and breadth of adult and YA literature due to the predominantly female protagonists -- or maybe not. Could it be that boys and men are lying about what the read for fear of being thought gay?

I know many men and young men who read a lot. None of them are or have been overly involved in sports (that time thing again, only 24 hours in a day). They do enjoy gaming, which tends to be a more active pursuit than sitting quietly in a chair and reading, but they do not care much for the novelization of their favorite games, most of which read like gaming manuals. In cases like that, it's better to play than read. The men I know read across a wide swath of literature, from nonfiction to science fiction, fantasy (mostly vampire and werewolf fiction), and a few into the verges of romance and mainstream fiction. They like Grisham and Palahniuk as much as Rowling and Meyer. My brother, who has always been a voracious reader, sticks pretty close to science fiction and fantasy (IT professional) and enjoys Anne McCaffrey and Piers Anthony. For him, it's the writing and characters and not whether they are male or female.

For what it's worth, the literary landscape, in my estimation, has become as narrow as the minds of principals and schoolboard members. Women writers used to write male protagonists as believably as their female counterparts and there was no gender bias either way. While there are still some good writers able to cross gender lines with their protagonists, and quite a few emerging that write gender neutral and gay stories for readers of all ages, the choices are limited unless you know where to look, and care about looking at all.

When all is said and done, the real numbers about whether or not boys and men are reading and what they are reading are skewed. Not everyone likes to talk about what they're reading or that, like my nephews, they are reading Stephanie Meyers and Charlaine Harris and Kim Harrison, among other paranormal writers, where the protagonists are female and the emphasis is on romance and sex. I suspect it has always been that way. Then again, my nephews were never big on sports and neither was my brother. An active life in sports takes up time with preparing and training for the game, playing the game, and dissecting and talking about the game after it's over, none of which leaves much time for reading.

It all comes down to time and whether or not there is enough time for reading. I'd like to see a study with that as the focus instead of whether or not the fiction is available for boys to read and not feel as though they are being stereotyped.

Editing, the Gentler Side

Editing professionals is often difficult. Few writers thank you for bloodying their pages. Editing amateurs is usually much worse. Case in point: editing my sister's story for anthology submission.

Professionals, and most advanced amateurs, realize that what they write isn't perfect and it often takes a practiced eye to catch the faux pas, grammar goofs, and sentence structure problems that should be fixed, especially if publication is the goal. Editing my sister is always an exercise in perceived brutality and rampant perfectionism (mine) and inflicted pain and torture (hers). I am neither a brute nor a rampant perfectionist, but you will not convince her of that. I live to correct her. No, I live to write and correcting writing is a byproduct of the process, and I've dealt with my share of slash and burn sessions with editors, some of which I accepted with grace and some I accepted with grace after a spate of turning the air blue with curses, calling the editors' intelligence and competence into question, and envisioning the editor staked out naked over a red ant hill covered in honey in the middle of a desert with a pool of water just out of reach, although those incidents are rare and no editors have been harmed, except within the confines of my very fertile brain.

My sister (I'll call her Beanie. It is her nickname after all) sent me her essay about taking care of our dad when he was dying of cancer four years ago. She got a few facts wrong (dying four years ago and not five) and has a tendency toward run-on sentences, most of which are immediately apparent. It's the way she talks as well. It's partly my fault because I told her to talk it out and then type up what she recorded.

The central theme of the essay is taking care of dad and how that felt, which is in there. It is buried beneath a ton of sibling rancor and emotional detritus that is not going to make it into an anthology that is meant to feature the up side of life. This is all mostly downer. I get to tell her that she needs to dump most of what she has written and write more. She's going to love me.

The point is to do this delicately without hurting her feelings too much. She expects a little pain since she's known me all her life, but the pain must be quick and minimal. It's a balancing act.

The trick is to point up the good things -- and there are a few of those -- and show how to make the bad things go away or improve with a positive slant, sort of like political spin, except not so blatant. The point of the essay -- how difficult it was to balance her own life with taking care of dad -- is buried three paragraphs down and the dialogue is not in dialogue format. The latter is an easy fix. More description is needed, like how dad looked and how she saw him, and that will be fairly easy to fix once I can dig and drag it out of her. Beanie is a very private person and not so in your face and out there as I am. Another balancing act is necessary: me balancing criticism with praise and guidance.

It can be done and, in this case, must be done. Even if Beanie never writes anything else for publication, at least she will have tangible evidence that she wrote a memorial to Dad and shared it with others. It will be cathartic and also a bit of an ego boost that she had something published, both of which she needs right now. My job is to get her published.

One thing I've learned in editing and critiquing is that people remember what they read last. It is important to emphasize the praise and gently insert the criticism. I must do something right because, despite my red pen wielding slash-and-burn editing sessions, many of the writers I work with keep coming back and sending more people my way. I'm certain they turned the air blue and cursed me to the lowest circle of hell before they thanked me for my help. Beanie will curse me directly and will remember the time I slashed and burned my way through her writing right before she thanks me for helping her make the writing better.

When Beanie was taking some college English courses, she ranted about my editing. When I asked her what grades she received, she smiled and said she passed with an A. I hope a similar scenario will ensue, which is writer speak for, I hope she feels the same way this time.

In editing, as in dealing with anyone who could be homicidal given the right circumstances, it is best to deal gently with the writer, especially when the writer is an amateur. Use their words to best advantage, praise the good things, and help the writer see why removing a chunk of the text makes the work better. Last of all, add a dollop of praise and a pat on the back, and step aside to avoid the sling and arrows of the outraged writer. You'll live longer and be able to edit again.

The White Rabbit's Dilemma

"I'm late. I'm late for a very important date." The White Rabbit checked his pocket watch, twitched his long ears, and tugged down a corner of his waistcoat. "I'm late. Can't stop or off with my head." He ran off with Alice chasing after asking, "Why? What's so important?"

It's not verbatim from Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland, but the gist is about right. The White Rabbit raced to and fro across Wonderland while the Caterpillar puffed on its hookah and contemplated the fate of the Underverse, which is where down the rabbit hole leads. It all comes down to time. Time enough to do what needs doing and time enough to relax and do what you really want to do. It's all about time.

The same is true for people on the surface of this planet, people rushing to and fro, checking their watches, cell phones, and clocks wherever they happen to be, checking their look in mirrors and windows on businesses everywhere, to make sure they are looking good and on time. It doesn't pay -- or so the saying goes -- to be late or look less than perfect, unless you're homeless where hygiene and the best designer clothes just will not do. The right look, the right time, the right everything -- and no one thinks about the finer things in life or what all those gadgets and time-savers are actually saving time for.

People spend more time in the bathroom washing away every scent that doesn't come out of a bottle or from a jar, bar, or potion. Teeth must be whitened and hair washed, conditioned, gelled, moussed, fluffed, blown dry, and tousled to look just right. Clothes must be pressed, dry cleaned, washed, and hung on special hangers -- wire hangers just will not do. Drapes, curtains, furniture, cappuccino machines, milk frothers, food processors, blenders, microwaves, griddles, grills, juicers, pulpers, composters for trash and food, and all the spices, herbs, and flavorings to make breakfast, lunch, and supper memorable meals with plenty of sweets and cakes, pies, tarts, turnovers, and cookies. Everything must look and taste the best and no one must be bored.

So much time spent rushing around making sure everything looks perfect, smells sweet or spicy, making money to buy things that must be cleaned, polished, wiped, and looked at, time spent accumulating things at prices less than fifty years ago would have been considered insane, and all done with the television and stereo blasting and nothing is really getting done, especially if you're a writer.

I always wanted to be a writer, says the person who is certain that being a writer is a life of ease and personal appearances, book signings, readings, and cashing huge royalty checks, but I never had the time.

No, they didn't have the time because there were too many other things in the way ticking like bombs that must be defused or at least put on pause while they exercised, watched TV, ran the kids here and there, and generally wasted time fussing with complicated recipes or going to get dinner and bring it home because there was no time to cook. How much is lost because we think we don't have enough time.

It all comes down to time and time is mostly wasted. If you can write 500 words a day, that comes out to two typed pages, you can write a book in a year. Write 1000 words a day, four pages, and cut that time in half, finishing a book in six months, 180 days. That's two books a year, and if you're middle-aged, that would still be sixty books over the next thirty years, providing you have thirty years, and forty books over twenty years isn't too bad either. If you're in your twenties, do the math. Two books a year and a working life span of at least forty years and that's eighty books. It is possible when you break it down to basic math, but it's not the pages that will get you, it's the time.

Time lost. Time wasted. Time spent moaning and groaning. Time used watching television whilte talking on the cell phone or playing games on the computer or chatting on Facebook, LiveJournal, or Twitter. Any number of blogs or web sites beckon and begged to suck the teat of time and leave nothing for writing, for living the dream you've been harboring in some secret locked part of a mind cupboard.

Technology is supposed to save time, give time for other more important things, and I don't mean shopping, networking, socializing, or whatever it is you do with the time that is left over from not having to do things manually, the hard and slow way. Typewriters made writing books easier (for writer and publisher) by making the words legible and set in a specific format. Word processors took it to the next level and left behind Wite-Out and correction strips, carbon paper, and special erasers, and computers took the process one step further, saving the words and pages in the correct format on floppy disks and then on thumb drives, about the length of the thumb. The words don't take up much space in ones and zeroes, and a 16GB drive will save thousands of books -- if you write them -- but it all comes back to time. Making time, having time, spending time -- to write.

When there were fewer gadgets and time saving devices, people had fewer demands on their time and fewer sirens seducing them to waste time. Work got done. Meals were made and dishes washed and put away. And books were written, and what books they were -- and are. It's all about time.

We all have the same 24 hours each day, but how we spend them is up to us. We can spend the time working to acquire more things to make life easier that will suck up more time away from that dream of writing books, which is not necessarily a glamorous life, not down here in the trenches where the words are written, stories are plotted, characters are given life, and books are put together, but it is a life that offers some rewards, not the least of which is satisfaction in seeing dreams come to life. It's a life. It's a choice -- a choice in what to do and how to spend all those hours saved from other labor, a choice that means turning your back on the seduction of things and get down to the nitty gritty of writing a book. Two pages a day or four pages a day, or ten pages a day, it can be done. All it takes is time.

Do you have the time?

The battery in my watch is dead.

The above is 1137 words, a little over four pages, and it took me 20 minute to write. How about it? Have you the time?

Riots, Powder Kegs, and Time

Parents out of town and teenagers, left to their own devices, will have a party. It's like the reason for climbing Mt. Everest, or any big mountain, because it's there. Food, alcohol, plenty of space, and the parents are gone, so why not have a party. That's how I see the riots in England in the wake of a constable's death. It's a reason for a party or, in this case, a riot. A chance to break into shops and take whatever is wanted -- or needed.

In times of economic difficulty, especially in the heat of summer when tempers are short and the temperature is high, cities and towns are like powder kegs with fire burning nearby. One inch to close and BOOM! The constable's death was an excuse, not a reason, and the powder keg blew with stunning force. Shop windows were broken and contents damaged and stolen. Police were called out to keep order and one bookseller, whose store was in the heart of the rioting, kept his cool. He is reported to have said that if the rioters want to steal his books it was fine with him; they might learn something. That's the thing about books, they change a person's perspectives, feed a hunger for education, and provide a safe place to play and imagine a different life. It's why most authors write books, too, and, evidently, why booksellers get into the business of selling books to the public.

Borders, a bookstore that has been an institution, is now closed. The remaining stock will be parceled out to remainder shops or other bookstores to satisfy some of the chain's debts and the stores will remain empty, homes for spider, or will morph into something else: a dance club, a big box bargain or scratch and dent store, or even a getaway for drug addicts looking for a safe place to shoot up or smoke themselves into a different reality. Too bad they didn't get hooked on books and fall into worlds created just for getting away from reality and imagining a different life.

It wasn't in a Borders bookstore, although I spent many hours on Sundays when I was living in Texas, reading, sipping fruit juice, water, or hot chocolate, writing in a journal, or reading a book I picked from the shelves, but in a Waldenbooks bookstore in the Westgate mall in Columbus, Ohio where I got my first taste of worlds and adventures that would change my perspectives and my life. That was where, from across the store, I caught sight of a book cover with three people on it, grouped together like a force of nature. I was drawn to the Science Fiction and Fantasy aisle of the store and I picked up the book. It was Three Against the Witch World by Andre Norton. I was fascinated by the blurb I read and bought the book, taking it home with me. I haven't looked back at that moment for a very long time, but, last night while I was being interviewed for a biography about Andre, that moment came back to me as clear and sharp as it was the moment it happened nearly forty years ago. I was in full reverse mode, sharing the books and stories that I remember best, and talking about a friend who is now gone, a woman who became my mentor, and we met in a bookstore.

I received a Kindle a few months ago and I thoroughly enjoy being able to download books to read. The Kindle is light and convenient and the battery lasts quite a while, especially if I turn off the screensaver. I found that out the other day when I had to recharge it, thinking I had a lot more time on the battery. Even though I already own A Storm of Swords in paperback (part of a four-book boxed set), I decided to buy and download the book to my Kindle. Am I the reason Borders went out of business?

As self-centered as I can sometimes be, I know I'm not the reason Borders closed their doors. Bad business practices is what did Borders in, otherwise Waldenbooks, Barnes & Noble, and Books-a-Million would close their doors and call it quits. All of those bookstores, Borders included, sold more than books. They also sold CDs and DVDs of music, movies, and television shows, stationery, magazines, and pens, and some of them sold coffee and food. No one person or lack of people is responsible for Borders going under. It's like the riots in England, no one precipitating event caused people to slip their tethers and go berserk. It's a lot of different reasons catalyzed by a single event or series of events. Borders was a powder keg and someone lit a match too nearby, so it blew.

I don't mourn Borders too much. There are still bookstores with little cafes where I can sit on a Sunday sipping iced cappuccino and read a book on my Kindle or write in a journal, and there are plenty of small bookstores that will now get the book buyers and browsers who once frequented Borders.

These are volatile times financially, politically, and businesswise, powder kegs with fire sparking and burning nearby. There is no telling which powder keg will explode first. Anything is possible. There might be some good Samaritan who will put out the fire and put move the powder keg to a safe place -- or not. Nothing stays the same for long. Everything changes.

One thing never changes and that is the need and desire for knowledge and a place to get away from the cares and woes of the world, places that can be found in a book. Like the bookseller who said, "Let them break in and steal the books. They might learn something," I, too, am confident that what people want can be found between the pages of a book -- print and electronic -- wherein is contained the wisdom of the ages -- and quite a few silly and bad stories. Jump in, the reading's fine.

 

Price Fixing and Other Publishing Games

A year or so ago, Amazon knuckled under to the big publishers and agreed not to discount their ebooks any more. It was a tough decision and Amazon hung out as long as possible, but in the eleventh hour there was nothing to do but bow the head and take it like a big corporation should. It was tough to see the end of that fight . . . but it's not over yet.

It looks like Apple and the Big Publishers are facing a lawsuit for price fixing. Imagine that. Apple and the big publishers wanted to keep Amazon on a leash because Apple and Steve Jobs were afraid that Amazon would get into the movie and music downloading business, and Jobs wanted that corner of the world for himself. Guess it came back to bite him in his nether regions and he may be forced to give up hsi dream of world domination.

A few days ago, Steve Jobs, looking very thin and ill and having some trouble navigating the stage, unveiled the Apple iCloud, which is similar to the Amazon Cloud Drive, and how even the Mobile Me, which Jobs admitted was a bust, would be incorporated and the annual price, which was $99/year for Mobile Me, was now free. It was a moving moment for the audience, as was the demonstration of what iCloud will do, and that is synch all input from the cloud to every device -- as long as you own Apple products (Mac, iPhone, iPod, etc.).

The thing is, in business you don't beat the competition by making them play on a different field or by taking them off the field completely, but by playing head to head and toe to toe and may the best man win. That is not what happened with Amazon last year and not what is happening now.

On forums all over the Internet, people are complaining about paying near hard cover prices for ebooks. The perceived value is that a file endlessly downloaded and formatted once should not cost as much as a hard cover, paper and board book, and even more than a paperback because there are no physical resources involved. Militant readers are calling for boycotts of the big publishers and waiting on books they really want to be remaindered or become available as secondhand books. Either way, publishers aren't paying attention and neither it seems is Steve Jobs at Apple. They can't see readers are beginning to fight back.

To further expunge all mention of Amazon or links to Amazon in ebooks, books sold in the Apple store through Smashwords must have no mention of Amazon, or any other bookstore, and no links are allowed, which cuts an author's chance to cheaply market their ebooks. Not everyone owns a iPhone, iPad, or Mac and authors know that. Making links to other bookstores is one way to provide access to books and offers a few alternatives for point of sale. When I submitted the revised version of Among Women to Smashwords I was told I had to take down all links other than Apple iStore links or my book would not be distributed at all. Apple's draconian measures affect all the bookstores where Smashwords distributes ebooks, including Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Diesel, Kobo, Sony, etc. Since when does one store have the right to determine what is and is not allowed for other stores? Never, until Apple got into the price fixing and smash Amazon game.

Add to that little titbit, the news that the big publishers' accounting systems are out of date and sales of ebooks are being under reported. In other words, more ebooks are sold than are reported and authors are not getting paid royalties for all ebooks sold. That's not news to authors. We know what is and is not going on with our money.

Publishers have been playing an end game that is going to cost them the reason for their existence -- authors. Self-publishing is looking better and better, even if an eStributor, as Joe Konrath calls agents to help package and manage sales of ebooks, is involved. Even though it was not their intention, it looks like the big publishers and Apple, under the guidance of Steve Jobs, who has not gotten over what happened in the beginning days of computers and operating systems, are going to have to pay for their price fixing and cavalier attitudes towards authors and competitors.

Every day is a new day and in the publishing word outside of the behemoth that traditional publishing has become, each new day hammers a new nail into the coffin. When you add in factors like literary agent, Andrew Wylie's railing against the 30% share of the market distributors like Apple and Amazon get from publishers and calling on publishers to stand firm against such tactics. The Jackal, as Wylie is called, said that Amazon and Apple should be willing to go quid quo pro and give publishers 30% of sales of iPads and Kindles to publishers if they wanted to protect the 30% they demand stating, "They [Amazon and Apple] have the device, but they cannot sell it without the content." Wylie's deal with Amazon to sell ebooks of his clients' back lists seems to fly in the face of his stand against Amazon and Apple, especially in the face of Random House publicly censuring Wylie by calling him a competitor instead of a deal broker between authors and publishers.

Yes, boys and girls, this is a volatile age we live in and the battles in publishing have just begun. Personally, not having to deal with agents and the ponderously slow time table of publishers seems more and more like a smart move, especially when my own publisher can't be bothered to send out quarterly statements quarterly and prefers to do it annually. Granted, the sales have been slow, but they have picked up and here we are in the third quarter without a single word from the publisher. At least Smashwords and Amazon pay every month without fail, no matter what royalties have been earned.

 

When All Else Fails -- Discipline

One of the most wonderful things in the world, at least for me and those like me, is writing. One of the worst things in the world is not writing, at least as far as being prolific is concerned, or finding oneself unable or unwilling to write. That's where discipline and habit come in.

The act of writing is a choice for some, a necessity for a few, and an addiction for others. Writing is more than just putting words on the page, virtual or paper. It's a calling and a curse. It's joy and sorrow and heartbreak and proof of life and heart and mind and determination. Without putting too fine a point on things, in order to be viable as a writer, as a published writer, it is necessary to develop, learn, or get into the habit of writing, to be disciplined. Often, discipline is the only thing that will keep a writer going when the going is hard and there seems to be no other way to get the words down.

It takes six weeks to create a habit and a lifetime to keep it going. Stephen King, in his book On Writing, writes about his daily regimen, his habit, his discipline and everything he does to make it happen. Even on vacation in England, he continued to write; he doesn't believe in taking days off. The result of his discipline is an impressive body of work.

I remember a story about a 19th century writer who worked in the local post office. He got up early in the morning and wrote for a specified amount of time, shutting himself in his room to write. When he finished one book, he didn't rest on his laurels or allow himself the luxury of marketing, networking, socializing, or post publishing blues, he picked up another sheet of paper and began his next book, continuing to write until his time was up and he must leave for work. That is discipline, and it is also commitment to the task.

As I've struggled with moving forward on the latest book, I've found that I have lost steam, lost headway in the process. I let the book sit for too long and have had trouble getting back into the minds of my characters -- at least on a conscious level. Unconsciously, all the characters are there, especially my narrator, and she speaks to me at odd times -- most often while I'm sleeping. The only trick (and it's not really a trick per se) I know is to just get on with the business of writing, keep the fingers typing and the pen full of ink and moving across the page. I cannot afford to let this book drop out of sight because it is a good book, an interesting book full of all kinds of contradictions, surprises, truths, and a fair amount of horror. What I have lost, other than time, is that forward momentum that propelled me through the last book in two weeks. That's what I need now.

Since I'm out of the disciplined habit of writing every day at the same time (I prefer early in the predawn hours because I tend to be more focused and creative at that hour), it's time to get back into the groove and rebuild my habit, reforge the discipline necessary to get through this rough patch.

Writing isn't all champagne launches and standing room only queues of fans waiting for a moment to hobnob with the author and get a signature on a copy of the book. Writing is like anything else that is worth doing -- a long hard slog at the worst of times and a determined one foot in front of the other procession down the path without side trips.

Back into the breach I go, full of determination and knowing that what comes out at first may well and truly suck, but will get easier and better with time -- with discipline.

Heigh ho, heigh ho, it's off to writing I go.

If you're having trouble getting the words onto the page and can't seem to get them just right, the only thing left to do is write and keep writing and then, in the cold harsh light of day, go back through and edit, rewrite, and do what's necessary to turn the straw into gold. You may find that some of that straw glistens already and what you thought was sub par may be better than you hoped.

Discipline is the key to keep going and the fear of the page or failure or success or whatever is bothering you will fade away as the daily writing habit kicks in. Don't let it fool you. Vacations are optional and there will always be time for that hour or two or five when it's you and the page and the words.

Good writing.

Make Room and They Will Come

Sentences and dialogue swirled in my mind as I walked toward the front door and I refused to turn back and open the laptop or grab paper and pen. I knew what would happen the moment I sat down, the words would disappear and the dialogue turn trite as I struggled to remember the exact phrasing, the position of noun, verb, adjective, adverb, and connecting words. It happened the same way every time I sat on the porcelain throne or stood in the shower with my hands full of lather when I washed my hair. Everything came clear. The next scene, the next transition, the next everything, and all disappeared the moment I attempted to grab them from the ether and give them substance on screen or paper. It wasn't writer's block; there was no block, no impediment. It was as though it was leaking out and being funneled somewhere other than where I needed it to go.

That's the way it has been for the past few months and my latest book languishes for lack of words.

I finally managed to finish the last chapter I'd begun and I continue to soldier on, but it should not be this difficult. I should be able to sit down and put the words together as I'm doing now, and sometimes it is that way; most of the time the words elude me, playing hide and seek or catch as catch can when I need a rousing game of Rover, Rover, come on over, except with words.

If this is post publishing blues, it's the longest stretch I've endured to date. I began and finished the next book about a month after publication of my first solo novel. It took two years to edit and rewrite, but that's the way it is when anything is done by committee. I even took a few months off to let things rest and my temper to cool from all the helpful input I kept getting, none of which was helpful or input anything other than spleen and venom. How does one use too many verbs anyway?

As I tried to figure all this out the same way I've always done -- by writing things out in my paper journals (pen and paper have always been the best way for me to think) -- it all came clear, or at least as clear as anything does in my experience. I needed to stop worrying that what went onto the page had to be perfect the first time around. If I learned anything from my last novel, it is that sometimes it takes time to make a book, even one that is self-published. I'd have to struggle through the trite dialogue and lackluster descriptions and uninspired plotting and just get on with it. The book would be finished and the real work (editing, rewriting) could begin, but not until I actually finished the book. I'm still adding bits and bobs to the last novel, which is a lot easier since I can upload the latest version without going through a lot of red tape and hem-hawing about. I can't move on to the next book until this one is finished.

It's hard sometimes because I have so many responsibilities and so much to do, to carve out a few hours, or even one hour, of writing time, as evidenced by the lack of daily posts here and on other blogs. Everything seems to pile up until I am at the bottom of a tottering heap about to be crushed by the sheer weight of it all. Like housework and the laundry, I have to stop trying to do it all at once and be content to do what I can when I can. Work, unfortunately, is non-negotiable. I have no choice in when I have to do that, but there is a little latitude with my other responsibilities, like reviewing books. I need a break and so I shall take one after I finish the latest box of goodies to be read and reviewed. I'll take a month or two off and focus on finishing the current book and beginning the next one. Yeah, that'll work.

In the end, it is all about focus, concentrating fully on one task at a time, instead of trying to work it all in and giving short shrift to the task at hand, and I've been wasting so much time in being indecisive and avoidance. Time to reassess. That's what I'm doing now: reassessing.

I used to have time for writing, but I carried a much smaller load in those days, and picked up a lot of rejections. I don't need to worry about rejection as long as I'm self-publishing, but I do need to concentrate on quality and getting things done. Time to do another mental spring cleaning and get rid of all the time wasters and detours.

That's what I will be doing. Cross your fingers that I don't decide that posting isn't one of the things to go.

No, it will probably end up being useless things like men and dating and cooking. It's amazing what a variety of frozen and precooked meals are available these days. And there are always sandwiches.

The words will come if I give them space and concentrate. That is all that is necessary -- that the words come. Build it -- or in this case spread out and make room -- and they will come.

Book Review Dos and Don'ts

There is something disheartening about reviews. Either a whole bunch of negative people review a book, most of whom have no sense of spelling, grammar, or punctuation, let alone story, plot, characterization, or few people write a review. They might email and tell the author the enjoyed the book and try to engage the author in a long, drawn out email conversation, which isn't productive and often means time lost writing, or they come up to an author at a con or book signing and gush about a book, never having taken the time to go online and review the book.

In this cyber age, it is important to put the remarks in writing -- and not just the negative remarks since that seems to be most of the kinds of reviews made. So many people with so many grudges. You can tell the author how much you liked a book, or books, but put it in writing. Amazon has the most visible and oft used review system of all the bookstores, but take the time to cut and paste your comments into B&N, Goodreads, or your favorite indie bookstore, like Powell's, all of which have good review forums.

One thing the online review process has created is a forum for the discontented and disgruntled to write their opinions and be heard. It's best if authors don't check the websites very often. It can be deflating, disheartening, and downright down casting if you've a thin skin or are new to the game. It seems people like to trash an author's work, but there are plenty of reviewers (and I use the term loosely) who have not a clue how to write or score a review, so I'll offer a couple of points.

First, if you liked the book but it had a few errors in formatting (check for an updated copy if it's a free review copy) and the story didn't turn out the way you wanted it to, and was well written, the least score should be 3 stars. Giving a writing 2 stars and saying how much you enjoyed the book is like sending mixed signals on a first date. Good thing the author can't drop a roofie in your drink and have their wicked way with you.

Secondly, if you loved the book and there were no errors or formatting problems, and the story was well written overall, give it 5 stars. The more errors or the more problems you had with the story, down grade by 1-star increments.

Two-star reviews are for those books that had merit but were not particularly well written, had too many formatting or spelling/grammar/punctuation errors and didn't come up to the mark.

One-star reviews are reserved for utter crap, including that the author couldn't write his or her way out of a paperback with a hole it and a sharp knife to hand.

Above all, be fair. Be honest. And don't take out your bad day on the author. It's not their fault.

If the book didn't end the way you wanted it to, don't take that out on the author either. It is the author's view and not yours. If you want a different ending, write one, but don't penalize the author by exercising your fits of pique with a low review when otherwise the book was good, or even excellent.

Reviewing is an art form that professionals learn how to do through years of experience and background in writing critiques. Reviewing in the cyberworld is somewhat different and mostly akin to a group of people talking about a book in a book club or among a group of friends. Keep that in mind. Very few reviewers are professionals on Amazon, but a few pros do slip through from time to time. Learn to write a substantive critique and keep it clean.

It's a tough world out there and Amazon reviews are the currency favored by the market right now. If you need help writing a review, ask someone with some experience, or write it the way you would tell it to a friend. Use a voice recorder if it helps.

Review books, preferably on days you're not having a major case of PMS, haven't fought with your boyfriend/girlfriend/boss/mother/father/siblings, got up on the right side of the bed, and didn't have car trouble or a bad hair day. Reviews are about the book, not your personal perils and petulance.

You can say whatever you like but do it with some class. It makes a difference.

Back in the Saddle

At long last, I am getting back into the language of Victorian England and putting words on the screen. That's a good feeling, especially when I have been slogging for so long, unable to get through the horse latitudes of ending one project and getting back to another. It takes time to get into the right frame of mind and the cadence of language from a different era, but I'm finally there with another chapter down. It's a bit rough in spots, but that is what editing and polishing are for -- working out the rough spots.

I've decided to give myself a treat once I've finished with a certain number of pages and chapters, and that is a holiday in another time and place with different characters. They are the carrot on the end of the writing stick. It is important to reward yourself for accomplishing set goals. I may even serialize the novel online, but I'm not quite there yet. Right now is all about getting back into the story and seeing it unfold on the screen, and that is a good feeling.

There are so many different levels to writing, not the least of which is finding a pace that suits the characters and the writer, all the while expecting and dealing with changes in the weather, so to speak. Some days, writing can be like skimming along a smooth track without a care in the world or a cloud on the horizon. Other days, it's more like slogging through mud up to your knees that sucks you down and makes forward movement downright difficult. It's important to keep slogging until you get to smooth ground again or nothing ever gets done.

There are times that other characters and stories beckon and seduce. I do my best to ignore them, taking notes when possible and remembering and noting details for exploration later. Distraction is a form of procrastination and should not be indulged. That's always hard for me to remember since I tend to be a bit of a magpie with new ideas, characters, and bits of research that lead in different directions from the one I'm currently traveling. That's where discipline comes in, but discipline and I have a rocky relationship. Discipline throws rocks to get my attention and I bob and weave and go off track. Like I said, a rocky relationship.

This morning was different. I felt the muse stirring and decided to follow her back into the fray. Now I'm past that awkward part in the story where clues are slipped in and a bit of foreshadowing done, I can move on to the meat of the story, coming back later to smooth out the bumps and brush away the cobwebs that gathered in the months between when I put the story down and picked it up again determined to move through it. It's a little like exercising after being a couch potato long enough for the pops and clicks of unused muscles, and the inevitable ache that settles, makes me wonder why I ever decided that exercise was a good thing.

At any rate, moving ahead is painful at first but gets easier each day -- as long as I minimize distractions and focus on getting some work done. In spite of the fits and starts, it does feel good to be back on track with a specific and reachable goal ahead. No one said writing was easy, but the rewards are worth it, as long as I don't think about the reviewers that will inevitably dislike what I've achieved. It's all right. Everyone is entitled to an opinion -- even when it's wrong.

 

From Amateur to School Girl -- Again

A reviewer, who admitted she doesn't read the kind of book I write, said "the writing and character development seemed a little amateurish." I guess a little amateurish is like being a little virginal. On the cusp of being a tramp and on the road to whorish -- or something like that. At least it's a three-star review, so I'm not going to worry.

Not worry? I'm going back to school. Maybe I can burnish the rest of the amateur out of my writing.

I did decide to go back to school, in a way, by signing up for Great Courses. It was a huge bargain, $39.95 down from $215. College at bargain basement prices, and no exams or dissertations or angst about what to wear to class. I always obsessed about having enough paper and a pen and pencil that worked. Silly me. I may even take the course on rhetoric and critique. It's likely my reviewing skills may also seem a little amateurish. Of course, I've earned enough money to buy food when the bills depleted my regular income, and I've had to pay taxes on the earnings for the past six years. Do amateurs pay taxes on earnings? Oh, well, not important.

I decided to try out one of the Great Courses since I've been receiving their catalogues for years. With the long list for the Booker Prize out today, it just makes sense to brush up my reading, writing, and critiquing skills. I took a look at the list and checked them all out on Amazon to see what was available for Kindle and at what prices.

Surprisingly, four of the books were out of print even though they were published within the past few months, and nearly all of the books were priced at near hard cover price, and often more than the paperback price. I guess publishers just don't get it.

How does a book go out of print in the seven weeks since it was published? Low print runs. Most of the books were published with a less than 6000 print run -- for all countries. Had they chosen to offer digital files (at realistic rates), the books would still be available while reprint orders were being made. I guess they didn't believe in the books enough to order a print run sufficient to sell to interested readers, and ebooks readers do actually read. I've finished six books on Kindle and just received the Kindle the first of May. Of course, it goes without saying that I've read many more books in print (that's what the office sends me to review) and a few in digital form that is not compatible with the Kindle. The total is, I believe thirty books that I didn't read on Kindle, and that's a conservative estimate. I've also read two of George R. R. Martin's A Song of Fire and Ice books (A Game of Thrones and A Clash of Kings, and have begun A Storm of Swords) and have nibbled The Bone People, a Booker Prize winner from 1985 that was a gift from a friend who said after the second chapter she realized the main female character was me.

One of my guilty pleasures, and not including Martin's saga, is the Nikki Heat mysteries written by Richard Castle, of television fame. Now there was a bright marketing ploy. A character on a TV show (one of the few I stream) is an author of mystery novels and, in real life, there are books written by said TV character featuring his partner and love interest, Detective Kate Beckett, aptly named Nikki Heat.

The writing is simple and the mysteries not that difficult to solve, and the byplay between Heat and her literary shadow, magazine writer Jameson Rook (who also writes romance novels as Victoria St. Clair), is heated, to say the least. It's fluff writing but it's fun, hence guilty pleasure. I've read Heat Wave and am working my way through Naked Heat, although the naked part is sadly missing so far, and I'm reading them on Kindle at a price below the paperback price. What a concept. The thing is, I'm enjoying the books, just as I enjoyed reading Terry Pratchett's Discworld series on Kindle.

Kindle is a great product and I'm enjoying the heck out of mine -- when I'm not reading review books, like Prophecy by S. J. Parris or Deed to Death by D. B. Henson, whose writing is long on detail and short on action through the first half of the book. D. B. Henson was first self-published and then picked up by Simon & Schuster, so indie to traditionally published still happens, and not just to Amanda Hocking, who is wringing the very last drop of tease out of her move to St. Martin's Press with her troll series.

What surprised me about the Booker Prize news this morning was the slap at Apple for not having any of the digital books available from the long list and being questioned as to whether they were players or just playing. I guess Apple is an amateur compared to Amazon, but you didn't hear that from me.

So, while the publishing world is heating up and plots are being bandied about, I will return to the beginning and learn to construct artful sentences in an effort to shake off that amateurish taint in my writing and character development. After all, writing is evolution and to write and sell one must evolve.

Time, Consideration, and Thought

Technology makes everything easier and the Internet makes everything happen faster. What more could we want? How about people willing to stand up for what they believe is right?

A writer friend recently dumped her Kindle review site because of "threats of litigation." That's Net speak for whiny authors who demanded five-star reviews for their books in the name of solidarity and did not get what they wanted. The authors threatened to sue over the reviews and the website owner shut the site down, and it all happened in the space of a couple of days. In the old days, before electronic and online submissions, email at the speed of the ISP, and tantrums speed by electrons and fueled by tech-savvy self-publishing, such actions would have taken weeks, and most likely months. Now it all happens at the touch of a button.

The level of professionalism visible on the world wide web is pretty low right now. Writers who gain sudden fame and sell millions of dollars of ebooks are celebrities and every wannabe writer wants to emulate them. The wannabes seldom look -- or read -- beyond the dollar signs and have no clue what it takes for a book to sell. As far as they are concerned, it's all about Amazon, B&N, and other website review ratings, and those ratings, while not actually for sale, are available for the right kind of coercive tactics. Litigation is a favorite.

"I'll sue you and have your website taken down if you don't give me a great review."

My response? Write a better book. Brush up your grammar, punctuation, and spelling and make sure your book is as good as possible before you hit the button and put it out on the web. If you're not willing to do the work, don't expect a great review.

Even if a writer is willing to do the work, there is no guarantee a reviewer will like and highly rate the work. It just doesn't work that way. Some readers will love the work, some will hate it, and most will fall somewhere in between, but the last thing you want to do is whine about the review and threaten the reviewer and website manager/owner with litigation. It never works out well -- except in this case where the website owner folded.

Jennifer Brozek, editor of The Edge of Propinquity shared an email exchange with a wanabe writer who questioned whether or not she had read his submission because it took only 30 minutes. Most professionals would be thrilled by that kind of turnaround, but the wannabe writer wasn't thrilled. His turnaround came with a rejection. An email discussion ensued. Jennifer posted the results in an early post and the email exchange that resulted in the hate mail. Several other editors who read Jennifer's LiveJournal posts asked for the wannabe writer's name and email address. They don't want to contact him; they want to avoid him. And that, dear reader, is how business is done in the publishing world. I've brought the brouhaha to you the speed of ISP guided electrons.

Jennifer will not be closing down the website, nor will she shut down the magazine, even if the wannabe writer threatens to sue. Should he decide to sue, he will waste his time and money and the judge (if it gets that far) will throw out the case as frivolous. You cannot litigate or force someone to write a good review and you cannot force them not to publish a bad review. You can only roll with the punches, and they will come left, right, and center, and sometimes a rabbit punch to the kidneys on occasion. It's the nature of dealing with people, and wouldn't the world be a much nicer place without people mucking it all up?

In the old days, editors knew how to deal with tantrums and wanabe writer pique. They ignored them.

Considering the amount of work that goes into putting a magazine out every month, online or in print, there's not enough time to coddle whiners and hissy fit throwing wannabes. Next!

I've had my share of negative reviews, and got another one this morning, but that is all part of the process. There were no negative comments about grammar, punctuation, formatting, or spelling, just that the reader didn't get the point of the book. A woman is abandoned in New Orleans, left with $50, and no way home. She is homeless for six weeks, mistaken for a notorious prostitute, and spends the next six weeks in jail, except she doesn't know how long she is going to be in jail. Over the ensuing weeks, she changes from a woman fearful of her surroundings and the other inmates, women she views as shadowy and monstrous, to someone who is able to see the women as not so very different from herself, women who have been abandoned and left to fend for themselves in whatever way they could manage. When she gets out of jail and goes back to her friends, she is glad to be back, but she is also changed. That is the point of the book, seeing the women through her middle class background and prejudices. Some people won't get it, but most people do.

Luckily, some of the readers who did get the point were from New Orleans or had worked in the women's prison system. Those are the reviews to treasure. The others are the opinions of people I was not able to reach, and that's all right. No one reaches everyone. If they did, we would have one person in Congress and one president and everyone would agree who it was to be. We'd also have one religion, one monetary system, one type of government, and no wars. Nice world if you can get it, but not practical and not possible.

In the end, all that matters is that everyone is done with careful consideration and thought. The rest, those that fail to think or consider anything before they punch the button and give virtual life to their creations, do not matter in the grand scheme of things. They are the low bar, the lower end of the Bell curve, the lowest common denominator, and exist only to show what should not and cannot be done. The parts of the curve that have weight are the vast majority in the middle and the rest that rise like cream to the top.

The trick is to rise with the cream, and that takes time and work, something not found among whiners, wannabes, and litigious jerks believing they can force their way to the top through intimidation and threats. Best thing to do is ignore them, like sand fleas, mosquitoes, flies, and other annoying pests. Don't give in. Hold the line. Ignore the screaming, kicking, red-face child on the floor. He'll eventually get tired and quit.

Down the Moors and Through the Mist

Like many authors, I'm no good at the social networking part of writing. I'd rather be writing. Can't make any money, and few books appear on shelves, without the writing. Now that I have a way to get my books into print (virtual and otherwise), it's time to get busy.

I read a post by Joe Konrath this afternoon about how people like John Locke, Amanda Hocking, Barry Eisler, and Joe Konrath, got to the point where they began making real money. They wrote books.

It is a radical concept, the whole writing a book thing, but it is a necessary concept. One can only check sales figures and review postings so many times before it becomes boring and pointless. Little changes in an hour or two, although I did find another review on Among Women from a woman who is a native of New Orleans, and a brand new fan looking for more of my work. Now that I can handle. The readers no one can please, unless it is a child's book for children under the age of three or four, are just too few and far between (you hope) to bother with, and it's never a good idea to engage a reader who obviously has not read your book in the back-and-forth of argument. It's pointless.

I did, however, engage in a discussion with a reviewer because she gave my other novel, a not romance three stars on one site and two stars on another site. It was an oversight, and I never mentioned or questioned her reasoning. She's entitled to her opinion. Can't make everyone happy and not every reader will like what any author likes. There will be fans and not fans and the only thing to do is hope the fans outnumber the not fans.

It takes a great deal of time and effort to write a novel and more than a couple hours a week of promotion is all I can stand before characters begin appearing in my dreams (day and night) and tugging at the strands of creativity to get my attention and get me back to the keyboard to write. That is where the battle is won or lost -- on the page.

I have been working sporadically on the Victorian Gothic novel and I'm beginning to hit my stride. At this rate I'll have it done in about a month -- or a hundred.

It is not easy picking up the threads of a novel begun so long ago and fitting into the narrator's voice, in this case Delilah Makepeace. Luckily, I spend enough time reading British novels and books about Victorian England that it is all coming back to me. I might make that month after all for the first draft, and then will begin the work of editing, revising, proofing, and tightening or expanding where needed. Spending so much time marketing and networking, I forgot how much fun it is to get into the mood and voice of the characters and record the deeds, foibles, and evil. Since Whitechapel Hearts is written in first person, there are fun and thrills to be had, and my imagination is filling in some pretty fascinating blanks. I should consider writing more thrillers, even if of the Gothic version. I sure loved them while growing up, and I still enjoy them now and again.

In the meantime, there is work. I've books to read and review, laundry to catch up, cold showers to take to keep cool, and the odd hour or five to spend with Delilah in Faustin Hall where she will stumble onto a secret that will change her life -- but then it might be too late. You just never know when the writing takes over and the characters speak.

Then I might return to New Orleans for a sequel to Among Women or move on to future Earth where vampires prey on and take care of the remnants of humanity in a world of darkness and cold. There are always the brownies that need to be stalked and a father drinking to forget that once he walked on the wild side to stalk the wild brownie before he was kicked out of the country and left with his craving, and his daughter, to keep him company. So many stories, so many worlds and situations, and no time for socializing.

The Man Behind the Curtain

The Big 6 publishers' ire and animosity toward Amazon for venturing into publishing waters is not unexpected. It is, however, laughable when considered in light of other forays in the publishing world.

Where was their anger when the Big 6 began offering their books to Wal-mart, grocery stories, and big box outlets? Were they not cutting out the sales that bookstores should have received and creating a monopoly whereby drug stores, grocers, and big box outlets were selling books as well as other goods? Borders no doubt failed to appreciate the irony of the move. After all, people spend far more time in those stores than in bookstores, like Borders, browsing the shelves for necessities, so picking up a book at the same time is little more than good time management. Get the product to the consumer in the best way possible. I guess buying a book at a bookstore is passe, and no one mentioned the monopoly word.

Then there were boutique and micro publishers -- aside from the university and college presses, which were no threat to be begin with -- that entered the publishing fray and the Big 6 yawned. How could a boutique publisher come within shouting distance of being a threat? They didn't do what the Big 6 did, and a new crop of possibilities opened up for authors. Smaller advances and nowhere near the Big 6 budget for advertising and marketing, but legitimate publication -- on a much smaller scale. What's to worry?

Then Amazon entered the arena and the crowd was silenced, their silence followed by oohs and aahs of wonder and possibility, and the Big 6 called, "MONOPOLY!" and demanded something be done. Where was the monopoly when they parceled their books out to retailers already selling so many other articles, including food, furnishings, electronics, televisions, games, software, cameras, and everything else under the sun. Why isn't Amazon, an outlet for all those products, and books, suddenly a threat?

Because Amazon can command as much money as the Big 6. It is in the end all about money. In this instance, it's the Big 6's money.

Consider what a publisher does. A publisher is like a bookie with lots of money and the one place where bets can be made. Since the publisher has the wherewithal to showcase and fete the jockey, outfit the horse in the finest silks, and bankroll the whole project, who do the touts bet on? The horse that will earn them a modest return on their food and rent money. Only suckers bet on horses with big odd, praying for a fluke or a miracle to pay off, and sometimes it does. It's all about the show -- and money runs the show. Win or lose, the biggest wad of cash goes to the house. The house has the best odds.

A publisher chooses an author, or the author's work, fetes the author, puts their money and talent to work showcasing the author, and telling everyone that this is the real deal. People listen. Books are sold. Author makes some money, but the real money goes to the house. Win or lose, the money is with the publisher -- the house. But what does a publisher actually do, beyond the showcasing, tarting up, and talking up the author and his words? Not much.

A publisher usually publishes nothing. A publisher is a clearing house for copy editors, proofreaders, artists, salesmen, marketing and PR representatives, and editors. Very few publishers own the printing press. They usually rent or subcontract the work to an actual printer, and no one is the wiser, until now.

Amazon, with its deep pockets and its own printing press, approaches authors and says, "Look. We have the resources and we'll pay you good money to let us print and market your work. We list the product at basement prices, but we will give you a big percentage of sales. How about working with us?"

Amazon has the distribution -- publishers have used them for years to sell books -- and is hooked into the biggest mall in the world -- the Internet. Bigger percentage, even on lower prices, sounds like a good idea. When the numbers are crunched and the contracts offered, what can an author do but sign? Amazon has just outdone the Big 6 and that is why they are calling foul.

It comes down to semantics. If you know how the business works and can break it down to its basic components, then manage the components in a more effective and lucrative way, you can take over the market.

Borders is a lost cause. Whatever the reason for its demise, the Big 6 definitely helped push them over the edge by distributing books through retailers, chain stores, big box stores, and grocers, bypassing bookstores completely. Talk about monopolies. Get your groceries, your prescriptions, and a book to read while shopping, and the gas and time saved is worth it. It's just not worth it to bookstores. It's called consolidation and not monopoly -- at least in current business parlance. After all, bookstores don't have the deep pockets of Amazon and can't afford to bite the hand that feeds them -- less and less each year.

Even with the move to digital publishing, the Big 6 still haven't figured out what's what. By pricing digital books out of the market at near the cost of hard cover, they are bleeding red ink all over their bottom line. The bookies have tanked it and don't know how to make up the loss because someone changed the odds and another house has almost all of them. Authors are fleeing the Big 6 like a a nerd trying to get a date at a sorority house mixer.

Some authors will stay. Someone always stays with what they know, but authors who know more about how the business works will step away and choose a bookie with better odds and a higher payout. It's loose slot machine time and the marks are lining up to cash in.

We live in a volatile and changing world where the marketplace is undergoing major changes. Those businesses that move with the times will prosper as they morph into a different business model and the rest will go the way of Borders. As more elements disperse through the marketplace, more changes will cause further destruction and construction and the world as it used to be will become a point along the historical time line.

Amazon isn't really monopolozing but maximizing business and giving the people who make books possible -- the authors -- a fair shake. Amazon doesn't need to put on a show and live the high life because they found that it is better to sell a thousand widgets at $1 than to sell one widget for $1000. It's the same number on the bottom line, but the column that totals widgets sold tells the real story.

I have a bit of advice for the Big 6. Had you paid attention to producing more books and sharing the profits more generously, you could still be the biggest bookie in town. Greed goeth before the fall. You've taken down Borders. Who will be next? Monopoly? I don't think so. It's just called business.

The man behind the curtain is pulling the levers and you've been watching a special effects show of pyrotechnics, mirrors, and lights. Keep an eye on the man. That is where all the action happens.

Anticipa -- tion

As everyone gets in line to watch the last Harry Potter movie, The Deathly Hallows Part II, I have decided to stay away. It isn't that I don't enjoy the movies and the books -- I have and do enjoy both -- but I do not need to be first in line to watch the movie. It will still be there tomorrow and next week and likely next month. I'm all right with that. I may even wait until the DVD is available and avoid the crowds and hassles of trying to find a seat in a packed theater one or two months from now. With time comes patience -- or at least that is what I tell myself. I feel the same way about A Dance with Dragons.

Since I have yet to finish the first four books (I'm just about finished with A Clash of Kings), I'm in no hurry to read the latest George R. R. Martin has created. I have the book; it arrived on Tuesday, but I have other responsibilities and books ahead of that one, like two and a quarter books.

Maybe it is something that comes with time or age or just a sense of anticipation that needs to be nurtured and cultivated and enjoyed, but I'm in no hurry. There may not be a tomorrow and I weigh that against the possibility that I will die unfulfilled by seeing Harry Potter or reading Martin. Those two possibilities are equal with never having seen Lawrence Olivier do Hamlet and reading the latest Nobel and Pulitzer Prize winners of the past twenty-five years and never having stepped onto a shuttle or the International Space Station, and I have yet to step foot on Mars. So many things to do and so little time and I spend it on the things I can do right now and am obligated to do. That is the cost of responsibility -- anticipa . . . tion. I hear Tim Curry as Dr. Frank N. Furter saying the word -- anticipa . . . tion and it sounds sexy and full of promise and possibility. That is what I leave for tomorrow -- possibility. After tomorrow there will be something else to anticipate -- if there is a tomorrow -- and the tomorrow after that, the tomorrow after that, and all the tomorrows to follow.

I can wait.

Give Me a Blank

There is nothing that makes my fingers itch for a fountain pen quicker than quality stationery and blank note cards. All that empty space begs to be filled in with words and news and weather reports, questions, thanks, and anything else that occurs to me. With that in mind, I decided to subtly teach my oldest grandson Jordan a lesson in etiquette that has apparently not taken root in most of my children's habits -- the thank you note and a note to Grandma.

Jordan's twelfth birthday is next week and I have already sent his gift, something fun and educational that his sister Savannah will no doubt want to use as well. I figure my son and his wife can give them clothes and toys, but I want to broaden their horizons, hence the next part of the gift I decided to send: airplane note cards with envelopes. The only thing I didn't provide was a pen. Jordan is a good student and should have quite a few pens and pencils to choose from. I am not at all averse to accepting thank you notes and letters written in pencil. I'm generous and forgiving that way.

When I checked on delivery of my grandson's gift, I noticed that it had been sent to the wrong address, two doors away, the address that my daughter-in-law provided and I neglected to change. Oh, well. I called to let them know of the problem so they could walk down to the other address and pick up the UPS form to get the gift from the UPS station. I left all this in a message since no one answered the call.

My daughter-in-law called back and left me a message. They got the slip and arranged to pick up the package today, in plenty of time before Jordan's birthday, and had received the note cards, which my grandson immediately opened and began using. That's the ticket, I thought. That's what it takes to instill a little etiquette. Provide the tools and they will use them.

Blank note cards and thick, luxurious stationery have the same effect on me. I can't wait to pick up a fountain pen and mar the surfaces with words and letters, weather and news, and ask about how things are on the other side of the country, county, and world. I wish it was so easy when writing books.

The cursor blink-blink-blinking at me reminds me that I am avoiding the task of putting down words and sentences, paragraphs and characterizations, and it mocks me. There are times when the blank screen and its blinking cursor fill me with excitement and other times when putting fingers to keyboard and letting them fly is done with as much thought as breathing or the heart beating. It's automatic, like filling blank note cards with fun and pretty covers.

Then there are the times when the idea of the blank screen is enough to send me loitering over to the games on the computer to decipher puzzles, rack up points, and while away six or eight hours that would've resulted in several chapters, or at least a good way through a first edit or proof read. It should not be this difficult. It should be as easy as putting pen to blank card and letting the ink flow, but it's not.

There are expectations in that blank screen, especially with a few books under my belt and still reeling from some negative reviews, that seem impossible to fill. What if I can't write a good story? What if I'm a fraud and have been fooling myself that I can write? What if I'd be better off slaving for a pittance of a wage instead of reaching for something deep inside myself that needs to get out, something that fills my dreams with characters and places, something that sidles in and whispers plots, adventures, and dangers and then slips away? What if...?

Whenever I'm procrastinating and not writing when I should be, I have decided to try another tack. I'll open one of those blank cards and, instead of writing a friend or relative, I'm going to write stories, snippets of chapters, dialogue, and description and maybe that way I'll finish another book. Taken in the small doses provided by blank cards, it can be done. It's kind of expensive in a way, but what else would I do with all these boxes of wonderful cards except write to people and bore them to death. Better to bore them after they've paid for a copy of the book. Even if they leave negative reviews, at least it will be a return on my investment in blank cards that I seldom get from people I write to for free.

You know, it just might work. Failing that, I'll buy some 5 x 7 index cards and use them. Small snippets, a novel a bit at a time, and, if past history is any indication, I should buy a whole lot of cards. I have things to say and stories to write.

Give a child a blank card and s/he will write a letter or thank you. Give me a blank card and I could just end up with a book.

Actual Value vs Perceived Value

A lovely young Chinese girl pours boiling water into a 400-year-old teapot, adds tea leaves, and puts on the lid. Hot tea-flavored water cascades down the sides as she explains that the patina imparted by using the teapot is what gives it value. "Some things," she says as she wipes the sides with a cloth, "have no value unless they are used."

A Stradivarius violin, the finest violin in the world, cannot be kept in a safety deposit box or safe or it will crack and dry out and be useless. Unless it is used regularly by a violinist, no matter how good or bad she is, the violin is just so much glue, pegging, wood, and strings that go out of tune. The same is true of a piano, no matter what make or model; it will dry out, crack, and die without being used.

Some things were made to be used, and so it is with books, but how do you judge a book and assess its value?

Each book is a labor of love, a work of art, no matter what the critics say. Each book is the brain child given life and form on paper, and in pixels and electrons, and lives only when it is read.

Authors regularly tout their best selling status, count their profits, and continue to create more brain children, but does that make a book valuable? It is valuable in that the book earns money, but there is value beyond money, beyond the price, and beyond the profit. There is value in every book for some reader who has read the book so many times she can quote passages by heart, giving them nuance and a flavor the author may never have intended or realized. Each book is valuable to some one -- and sometimes to many someones, until the rest of the world and fans catch on. That is what I hope happens to my books, that they are read over and over by someone -- or many someones -- regardless of how much I earn, so long as they touch someone's heart and/or mind. That is the value of a book. It imparts a view of life, a bit of magic, a soupcon of wisdom, and often a titbit of laughter, tears, or joy.

Too often, in our rush to be recognized, lauded, and to profit from our dreams and visions made real, we forget that the real value in a book is in its impact. There is no value otherwise.

I remember a story about Beatrix Potter who made up stories and painted the scenes she saw in her imagination. As a Victorian woman, her only possibility of a life was to marry, manage a household, bear children, and be a helpmate to a man. The only other option was to ruin her reputation by going on the stage or becoming a prostitute, at least if she was from a good family. Lots of jobs were available for lower class women and few cared what they were. Someone had to serve, clean, cook, manage a household staff, etc., and no well born lady would have considered for a second having a valet instead of a lady's maid.

Beatrix was from a good family with some money and position and still she wanted to continue writing stories and painting her friends. She decided to have her work published and, with her companion in tow, she went round to various publishers until she found a publisher willing to take on her project and do it her way. She would not be fobbed off with second class work. She would draw and paint her own illustrations, and her first book was born.

Beatrix wrote and illustrated several books and, to her family's utter surprise, people talked about the little books as if they were gems of beauty and value, and bought so many of the books Beatrix was able to move out of her parents' home and into her own home on her own land bought with her own money. She was free at last. The rest of the story is as fascinating as the writing, but better leave that to another time and another subject.

Beatrix's books were her brain children and children, and adults, who bought the books loved them, cared for them, and passed them down to their own children. The books aren't big in size, but they are works of art that have value far and beyond the cost of materials and publisher's fees. The books are immortal. That's what every writer dreams and so few achieve.

Is it because the writing isn't good? Sometimes. Is it because the subject is off the beaten track? Sometimes. Is it because the author didn't play the socializing, marketing, and networking game? Not always.

Sometimes books don't hit their stride right away or fans don't form clans to discuss, rehash, and proselytize for the author. It's not the book or the author's fault; it's the luck of the draw -- or not drawn.

Every book has value to some person, some individual, and to the author. In order to transcend the first flush of creation, a book must be read and readers must talk and spread the word of mouth necessary to bring a book out of the shadows and into the light. However, if just one person, or even one hundred persons, read and reread and commit the book to memory, it's value soars. A book, like a 400-year-old teapot, has no value unless it is used. Usage brings a patina of beauty that the brightest diamonds and the richest fabrics cannot achieve.

Read a book. Pick one, any one, and find within it the beauty and profundity of the author's dreams. One person, one book, or a hundred persons and a hundred books, it does not matter. It only matters that you read and keep the words and images and dreams burnished. It's the difference between actual value and perceived value.

If you're looking for a gift, what better gift to give someone you love than a book?

The Only Good Bug

It gets lost in the switch from childhood to adulthood that sense of curiosity and awe of insects. That need to get down on all fours and watch ants pick up crumbs of food and follow them to the nest, that avaricious desire to examine all trees for a sign of a cast off cocoon or drying skin from a cicada disappears and is replaced with a feeling of crawling skin and an ick factor that goes off the charts the closer an insect or larvae get within touching distance. Out comes the bug spray and on go the gloves while steaming water rushes into a bucket where it foams on contact with antibacterial and antimicrobial soap and cleansers to eradicate every last alien hell-spawned insect in the vicinity.

Add spiders to the mix, and all the arachnid family, just makes the feelings worse. The alien hair-covered legs and compound eyes of a spider waiting to pounce from some shadowy niche to sing venom-dripping fangs into a soft portion of skin that will soon seethe with pus, turn red, and catch on fire to blacken and drop off or deteriorate into a spongy, decomposing mess engenders terror and horror the likes of which even the best horror writer never understood because it strikes women more than men. Men cringe in horror at spider webs, but secretly hope they will one day learn the secret of The Fly, as long as it happens to a close personal friend.

Insects are multi-legged aliens that must be destroyed.

Humans are the late comers to this planet. Insects emerged and differentiated long before humans had crawled from the mud in the cells of amphibians that would eventually evolve into warm-blooded mammals and eventually into humans. We are the aliens.

As a child, I crowed with sheer delight when I found a cicada husk clinging to the roughened bark of a tree and summers were spent scanning bark for any signs of an intact split skin, the hope of seeing a cicada emerge a close nurtured hope. I caught doodlebugs and heaped up little piles of dust ringed with popsicle sticks and bits of wood while I pushed and prodded the bugs to curl up and scuttle backward through the dust mounds and watched and played for hours. Each new insect -- the giant walking stick and grasshopper dad caught and pinned to the inside of a box to send to a cousin for biology, the mealy bugs that swarmed out of wet and warm cracks among the coconut trees, and the dozens of brilliant butterflies and brightly colored spiders that seethed and crawled and stalked among the debris of the jungle floor in Panama -- was a magical world of wonder and possibility that fascinated me endlessly -- until I grew up.

No longer did I spread a blanket in the summer grass and flop down onto my belly to peer through the grass to watch the silent world, not without a big can of bug spray and constantly scanning the edges for invading armies of ants and insect life. The big black ants that appeared on the my skin was a sign for a frantic Watusi until the interloper could be shaken off or squished beneath something large and heavy were signs the invading hordes were upon me. A bee or wasp or hornet sent me into paroxysms of fear while holding my breath and inching toward safety, eyes glued to the buzzing, flying death dealer. I'm allergic to bees, wasps, hornets, and other stinging insects and carry an Epi-Pen everywhere I go, avoiding dark colors and perfume that lure the assassins in.

The world became overnight an arena where death crept, flew, and stalked on six legs and eight. I remained fascinated by insects and arachnids on the television, but not in real life. I wanted them far from my sphere of influence and farther away from me. The only good bug was a dead bug -- until the other day when I contemplated buying eggs and live bugs to set loose in my garden to kill off the bad bugs, as long as I can find some way of delivering the assassins without actually touching them or having them in the house.

I received a notice from the gardening club I belong to that detailed how to purchase thousands of lady bugs and green lacewing flies and my childhood wow factor kicked in long enough to check the claims out.

A lady bug eats up to 50 aphids, thrips, and other garden pests a day while a green lacewing fly eats 1000 a day of the same pests. Good bug versus bad bug. I could handle that -- as long as the good bugs stay outside. The memory of a lady bug infestation several years ago still sends shivers through me.

There's nothing like sitting on the toilet when a lady bug flits into view. The first couple brought smiles to my face. The seething red and black carpet oozing through the cracks and crevices of the screen window beside me filled me horror. I was trapped, still struggling with current business, and new business was actively invading my sanctuary. I had no choice but to finish the old business before cleaning up and rushing pellmell for the kitchen where the bug spray waited waited under the sink. I could not get there fast enough, nor was I elated with the results. The can emitted a few watery spurts and died while lady bugs swarmed and oozed through the infinitesimal breaks between aluminum frame and wooden sill.

I'm not sure I can face another infestation of lady bugs, especially if only 50 aphids a day per bug are being eradicated, not when green lacewings will kill more. The question is whether or not I need that much bug power. Still, I am interested, and a bug hunt is in order.

My research provided me with several options, each larger and more lethal, culminating in three healthy and fertile praying mantis eggs guaranteed to get rid of another form of insect life, otherwise known as Mother Nature's assassins. Encarsia Formosas that prey on whiteflies, earthworms for aerating the soil, green lacewings, lady bugs, predatory mites, flea killing nematodes and dozens of other supposedly good bugs to kill off the bad bugs, and lady bug homes. I didn't know lady bugs needed homes, but evidently there are places that build and sell homes for lady bugs without the problems of mortgages and defaults, unless the owner's mortgage goes up in flames when he defaults, or just before if he's planning on collecting the insurance.

Lady bug, lady bug fly away home.
Your house is on fire,
your children are gone.

Somebody knew about lady bug homes before I did.

I may change my mind about actually handling Mother Nature's assassins if I can summon up sufficient energy to clear out the planting beds and put in something more decorative than the evergreens crouching in the beds or the nearly impossible to kill honeysuckle that is taking over the front planter. I might even consider berries, roses, and flowers that will seduce hummingbirds and butterflies to visit regularly. Butterflies I can handle, but keep the moths far away from me, or me in the house when they're swarming the honeysuckle, at least until I can find a way to eradicate the honeysuckle without digging up the lot.

There are good bugs and bad bugs, at least as far as humans are concerned, and most of the time it is difficult to tell which is which -- even with a scorecard. The only good bug is the one that supports what you do want against what you don't want. That's the trick -- figuring out which is which.

Now Presenting . . . Who?

It never gets easier this whole networking, socializing to sell books thing. I wonder how authors did it a hundred years ago, two hundred years ago? Oh, right, people bouught books, read the books, talked about the books and more people bought the books. Of course, there weren't millions of people writing millions of books then. Only a few ever got through to the gatekeepers. The few who could afford it and paid to have their own books published had some success, depending on how good the books were. That's the real trick. Not socializing or networking but writing really good books.

I read George R. R. Martin's Live Journal blog and I was struck by the surprise that he is having such success now, especially since his ice and Fire series has been out since 1996, except for the new one coming out next week. A Dance With Dragons took about eight years to write and finish. George admits he's a slow writer and doesn't do deadlines very well.

George garnered a lot of fans, as he should since his Ice & Fire series is amazing. The writing is accessible and not overdone or heavy with description, although there is sufficient description to put you right in the action at the right time and place. Each character is unique and flawed in some way, but eminently memorable, from the Imp (Tyrion Lannister) to Eddard Stark, Jon Snow and Danaerys Targaryen and Khal Drogo. The books have been translated into several different languages and Vietnamese may be next. What George has created in Winterfell and the world where it is set crosses all boundaries and touches something inside us that believes in magic and demons and in the strength of men and women to combat anything that comes down the Kingsroad.

A recent article cited sales in one day that exceeded all of 2010 before HBO picked up the series and shoved the series to the top of all the best seller lists here and abroad. I wouldn't mind selling 40,000 books, but I'm new at the game and don't have George's track record in movies, television and books. I'm working my way up, but I do wonder what it would take to get people talking about my book the way they talk, dissect, and love George's books. Probably stop writing about relationships and the evil that men and women do in the real world and take the same elements and place them in a world of my own creation like Middle Earth and Westeros. I love fantasy and dragons and everything that goes with them, but find it difficult to write fantasy. I work best in the real world where the harms we do each other are next door and the next town over. I'd do well to create a world, set the rules and let my imagination run wild -- right after I finish the current trip into Victorian England where Jekyll, Hyde and Jack the Ripper put Whitechapel and serial murder on the map.

There is a world -- this world a few hundred years hence -- that lies under the curse of man's technology and Mother Nature's ire where vampires rule, not the vampires currently known and written about, but vampires of a different breed at war with each other and king of a world locked beneath dark skies where the sun doesn't shine and glaciers creep ever closer to the equator. It is a world where domed cities protect the ragged remnants of humanity cloned to near extinction, a shadow of itself, and ruled over by vampires who breed the humans for food and to run the machines their ancestors built.

The mother lode of humanity's best and brightest live underground safe from the ravages of nature, nurtured by vampires who archive their memories and protect what the shadow humans in the domed cities can no longer remember after generations of cloning. The underground humans and vampires protect technology, books and memories of what went before, what caused and perpetuates the season of Ragnarok that reigns on the surface, and these two worlds are about to clash over the precious seeds of life as it once was left behind that will soon be resurrected as the world rebounds and begins to bloom again. Memory will guide the way.

If I'm very lucky, then the novels I write, in the real world and in a world of fantasy, will start the buzz and word of mouth will sell 40,000 or more books. It's my dream, and one that isn't out of reach -- so far. In the meantime, I need to work more on socializing and networking because I'm not sure I could handle any more book signings where no one shows up or a dozen people stop by on their way up the aisle to join the hundreds waiting to see the author of Clifford the big red dog's adventures. George can tell you how that one goes. There's nothing like holding a book signing where everyone forgets to come.

Now, about that socializing. Do I really have to? Can't someone just start talking, someone with a big mouth and a bigger audience full of big mouths? I can only hope.

 

A Whole New Ball Game

This is an exciting time to be a writer. It is also a frightening time to be a writer. everything is changing. Some things are changing slowly and ponderously and everything else is changing at light speed.

Case in point: J. K. Rowling jumped ship from Christopher Little's literary agency and Little is calling foul. There may even be litigation in the future. It seems, Ms. Rowling and Mr. Little were negotiating their future together when Neil Blair left the agency to create his own agency and Rowling went with him.

The way I understand the author-agent relationship is that when one or the other of the parties is dissatisfied with their agreement, one or both can walk. Rowling took the option and walked. Little is considering suing her. Unless there is some ethics breach, I don't see that as anything but a nuisance suit, but it may likely result in scorched earth. Play nice, people.

Everyone wants to get in on the ground floor of the digital revolution. Authors are self-publishing work that publishers and agents have rejected, usually with a fill-in-the-blank form, or with a generic form, literary agents are turning into publishers and muddying the waters, and university bookstores are crying foul on professors and lecturers who are posting their notes and lectures online. Said Iain Finlayson, manager of Blackwell, a university bookshop, "Anybody who works in academic bookselling would be extremely concerned if the material in textbooks is posted elsewhere for free. Lecturers posting notes online is harmful for us and I believe it discourages students from reading around their subject area. I would discourage it. It is certainly not helping book sales, but lecturers might think differently."

Lecturers have been posting lectures and notes online for ages, at least ever since the Internet made it easy for them, so why is it only now that booksellers are complaining? Oh, right, because they are posting fewer profits, and of course the fault is lecturers using technology to give their students immediate access to lectures. At this rate, everyone will stay home and party, waking long enough to pop a pill, read the lecture and go back to partying until time for exams. I'm surprised that booksellers didn't complain when students taped lectures to listen to at their leisure and consult when studying for exams. Once again, it's more a matter of not moving with the times than the Internet doing booksellers in.

How about pricing books so they are affordable or offering digital versions of textbooks at a reasonable price in these hard economic times? When parents and students are already paying £9000 a year to go to university, it's time to make textbooks and source material affordable. The digital age is here. Embrace it and profit.

Of course, booksellers are considering lobbying the government to encourage students to use some of their bursary funds for textbooks, and that brings to mind non-compete clauses and all of the other governmental shenanigans that Ayn Rand predicted would bring economic downfall in Atlas Shrugged, and here it is in all its me-first glory.

Why not, like South Korea, consider phasing out backpacks and books and moving into the digital age? South Korea has moved boldly into the digital age and is remaking education in wired fashion. According to "...the country’s education ministry [they] will spend 2.2 trillion won ($2.06bn) to convert existing school textbooks and develop cloud computing systems to provide digitised content for learning." I don't hear -- or read -- booksellers complaining about their profits in South Korea. Maybe they have already shut their doors or moved to a new business model where they sell tablets and provide cloud computing systems, or even offer digital books to download directly to tablets.

Before the age of backpacks to carry books, people in my generation carried armloads of books to and from classes and home. In poundage alone, tablets and digitalization will save many young people from back problems and biophysical stress.Ultimately it is about what works and what doesn't. Clinging to old business models and considering litigation to keep things the way they were will not profit businesses or the public. It's not as if manufacturers of dish detergent wept into their beers and whiskey when people began buying and using dishwashers. They retooled and manufactured a line of dishwasher detergents to work with the new machines. It's called progress and moving with the times. There were still people washing dishes by hand, but automatic dishwashers provided a new avenue of business and a new arena in which to play. I do not understand why bookstores aren't catching on and finding a way to fit in.

How about putting an Espresso Book Machine in the store. As wonderful as ebooks are, being able to print a personal copy of a book that has been out of print for decades, or longer, would be worth having, and the books wouldn't have to be high priced. Profitable, but not out of pocketbook range. Print a book while you wait.

But what would they do with all that extra space? How about forming new partnerships with computer manufacturers to put sales models in the stores or offer free wi-fi and sell computer time like digital cafes? The possibilities are endless and it doesn't have to be all about books.

Training classes on how to self-publish. A department to help aspiring writers edit, polish and self-publish. Connections to cover artists and illustrationists. A place to hold training sessions on every aspect of the self-publishing business and even marketing classes to help maximize sales.

There are always the old standbys of author book signings, readings and meet and greets. The possibilities are endless. Instead of whining about the decline in profits, how about using the move to digitalization and find gold in the digital rush? Anything is possible for a business owner not stuck in the past and willing to move forward with the times.

It's a whole new ball game and most poor suckers are stuck in the nose bleed seats without binoculars. The only answer is to buy binoculars or get there early to get better seats. This is the winnowing time and only the visionaries will profit and succeed.

 

The Forgotten Reader

Books are made for readers and, for an author to be successful, s/he needs many readers, millions of readers. No stone is to be left unturned to turn these readers towards a specific book. One stone is seldom considered in this rush for readers -- the blind.

Someone commented on my Facebook page yesterday that he couldn't buy the paperback version of my latest novel because he was blind, but would like a link to the ebook. I thought he was making a joke. After all, an ebook is virtual print and still a printed book. He wasn't joking. He wanted to download the book to his reading machine in order to convert it to Braille or to speech. Abashed and embarrassed, if sent him the link for Smashwords to download whichever digital version would work with his machine.

As we chatted more, I realized I would have to find someone, or buy the right equipment, to record my novel as an audiobook. There have been plans for the audiobook for a while, a couple of months at least, but it costs money to do it right. I cannot afford a big name actress or voice over artist, and will likely end up recording it myself. The book is after all my story, fictionalized, but still my life and my experiences, so who better to do the job? Or cheaper. I can afford me. I had forgotten about a whole group of readers, and listeners, who might enjoy my novel. More data was needed.

According to Visions, services for the blind and visually impaired, about 2.5 million Americans are legally blind, cannot see with any kind of assistive aid (magnifiers, glasses, etc.). Less educated and often less literate, the blind are handicapped in more than one way.

Through my own ignorance, I have left millions of people out of the reading loop and didn't consider them an option. I'm usually not that short-sighted. In junior high school, I helped a blind girl, Virginia, to convert notes and lectures to Braille. I read and she typed on a Braille machine. According to Visions, Braille is the only way for the blind to be truly literate. Audiobooks do not promote literacy. Anyone can tell you a story, but to read it for yourself is something else again.

Many blind Americans are older, having lost their vision due to diabetes, macular degeneration, accident or cataracts. There are surgeries to help some of the blind see with limited vision, and often with better results, but that still leaves a lot of people unable to read who often read before they were blind. Many don't learn Braille and rely on audiobooks to fill the time.

To be unable to read a book, to transcend this existence for a little while and live in a world of danger, thrills, love and inspiration is what books are all about. Books provide a window on the world that, if you are blind, might as well be a concrete wall. There is something very wrong with the idea of leaving 2.5 million blind people in the dark without the light a book provides, especially when it is estimated that nearly 50,000 children are blind.

The blind are my forgotten readers, and likely they are the forgotten readers in every publishing company and author's mind. We don't think of the blind until we see the white cane, the dark glasses and a seeing eye dog, or someone comments on Facebook that he will be unable to read the book because it is in print. I should have known better. So should we all. These people provide a forgotten segment of the reading, or listening, population, but more than that they are people much in need of a window on the world, a window that will fill their hours with someone else's vision and maybe make them smile. It's time publishers and authors thought in terms of all potential readers, from children too poor to own a book to the blind, and include them in production and formatting of books to meet their needs. I know I will.