A Few Cantankerous Thoughts on Publishing...

....in no particular order. (Although they are numbered, that's strictly serendipity.)

1. Book publishing is not dead. Paper books are not dead. And paying an author for content is certainly not dead, assorted screaming meemies to the contrary. How it will all be paid for in the future remains to be seen, but there is still such a thing as intellectual property, and the truly wise "forecasters" among us know that.

2. Editors, agents, and publishers don't get up in the morning and ask themselves, "How can I make an author's life miserable today?" They like things to go well just as much as you do. And they like discovering your brilliant work even more than you like them doing so.

3. Some people will never, as in ever, be convinced of this. This is their loss. 

4. There is truly no such thing as "traditional" publishing. People who use that adjective know little about the publishing industry except in terms of bashing it.

5. You're not actually self-published unless you have personally seen to every detail of the publishing process. Subcontract some, yes. But you're either in charge or you're not. If you've paid someone else to see to these details for you, don't call yourself "self-published," even if your publisher calls you that. It's misleading and unfair to those who truly are.

6. Small presses are not automatically virtuous simply because they're not the monolith on the corporate corner. All they are, in the end, is small. With all that that means.

7. Yes, we all know, e-books are the future. They're all that's going to exist in 20 years. They were all that was going to exist in 20 years...in 1980, too. Forgive some of us for being a bit slower and more cautious about jumping on the bandwagon that many of you have apparently just discovered and/or think you have invented. We've seen this movie start before...we're waiting to see the end before we applaud it too raucously.

8. Those of us who love print would be much more favorably disposed toward e-book advocates if they'd stop talking down to us, belittling us, calling us "dinosaurs who can't adapt," accusing us of clinging to a publishing model that "doesn't work," and screaming the assertions in #1 at us over and over again, just to make sure we hear them. Volume doesn't equal veracity. Enough, already.

9. It's no coincidence that the people who protest the loudest about how publishing shouldn't have "gatekeepers" are the people whose work needs gatekeepers the most. This is true approximately 101.999% of the time. So if you think you're the exception, think again.

10. If you're truly excited about publishing my book and "being my partner in publishing success," then pay me an advance against royalties. If you don't think you'll make enough money off me to cover even a small advance, you don't believe in my book or in me nearly enough to be my partner, and you should pass on it.

11. There's an odd notion in some circles that publishers should practically give away e-books because "it doesn't cost the publisher anything to do them." Whoever started this nonsense knows nothing about either publishing or economics, and less than nothing about the combination of the two. Don't give this lie credibility by perpetuating it.

12. I still believe that I can beat the odds and be the one who sells the story people will talk about for 100 years after I'm gone.  If that makes me a fool, so be it. I'm at least a fool who believes in something, rather than being the one insistent on dumping cold water on others' dreams. I know which person will be remembered in 100 years, too. Just sayin'.

Okay, I feel much better now. :-)

Thoughts?
Janny

It's All Moot Now!

The bad news (at least in $$ theory): the day job "eliminated my position."
The good news: because I was not let go for cause, I have some severance for a limited time.
The bad news: health insurance will cost ten times as much.
The good news: I plan to make ten times as much money. :-)
The even better news: now, I can truly throw myself totally into writing full time. And this time, I have no doubts that it will work.
The even better than the previous better news: be careful what you pray for. Just sayin'. :-)

The best news of all: no more Sunday-night depression.
No more getting up before crack of dawn, whether I'm rested or not.
Amen, and hallelujah.

So if you're looking for a freelance fiction editor...here I am!
Send the checks! :-D

More later,
Janny

To Whom It May Concern: The Other Side of the Coin, Or, 5 Reasons Why You DO Want Me as Your Acquisitions Editor

Okay…we’ve covered some reasons why putting me into the Acquisitions chair at your fiction publisher might constitute Job Match Fail.

Fair enough.

But even in a situation where there is no hope of rainbows or unicorns, for every negative I can see about my “savvy” in some areas, the expertise I can offer in others—the wonderful, craft-oriented hands-on areas—goes a long way toward balancing what may be a perceived “weakness.” In short, if you can take my worldview in stride, talk my (clean) language and see “story” from where I sit, there are just as many, if not more, reasons why putting me in that Acquisitions slot would be Job Match Nirvana.

Why do I say this?

1. I love authors and I love a good story! I’m always looking for the story that takes me away. I’m always dreaming of it. When I find it, it’s an unbelievable high—and one that’s completely safe and legal. What’s not to love about that?

2. I’m a great manuscript evaluator. Remember, when I went into the Agent for a Day contest, I was looking at queries. No chapters. Once I start looking at chapters, however, it’s a whole ‘nuther game, one I’m very good at. I’ve picked Golden Heart winners (and written one myself); I’ve judged dozens of contests and critiqued hundreds of samples. People who work with me trust what I tell them to do with a manuscript. They acknowledge me in published books. Even people whose books I’ve panned have revised them and gone back and thanked me for it! Who else on your staff can you point to with that wealth of experience and potential influence?

3. I work hard, I work fast, and I work smart.  I can, literally, tell within paragraphs if something’s going to work as a story. I don’t waste time chewing over whether I’m going to hurt an author’s feelings by sending her a form rejection; I know it’s gonna hurt. I try to do it gently, not brutally, but I don’t believe we do authors any favor by coddling them, either…so I don’t. I consistently produce more work, better work, and faster work than most editors in my business can point to; when I work, I work.

4. I have vision for the “big picture” of both an author’s potential and how that author can fit into a catalog slot. I know a lot of authors who are working on specific kinds of books, and I know there are unfilled niches out there that I could—with expertise—help find material to fill for you.

5. Finally…I am obsessive about quality. An old Hanes ad on TV years ago featured a ferocious  Quality Control woman on screen whose slogan was: “They don’t say Hanes until I SAY they say Hanes.” That’s me. In a nutshell.  I will question an author. I will push her. I will demand that her plot holes are closed, her characters are understandable and believable, and her premises are plausible. People who work with me can tell you my favorite question, when working with story, is “Why?” I believe the more of those “Whys” we answer…the more satisfying a story is.  So if you want stories to be as perfect, as clean, as correct, and as complete as possible—you need me shepherding at least some of those stories.  Clean, well-written stories with emotional depth and resonance are keepers…and that’s the only kind of book I let out of my shop.

So you’ve seen both sides of the fence, you who are in Editorial Judgment Seats. The next time one of you has an Acquisitions editor run away to the Caribbean and leave no forwarding address…or join the circus…or hit the lottery…look up this blog again and shoot me a line. I’ve got a perfectly good, warm and toasty set of talents just waiting for you to use—if you’re brave enough to hire the best.

(heh heh!)

Thoughts?
Janny

To Whom It May Concern: 5 Reasons Why You Don’t Want Me as Your Acquisitions Editor

One of the few “day jobs” that would be agreeable to many of us in the novel-writing business—in fact, in some ways a dream job—is being an acquisitions editor for a fiction publisher. However, sometimes, I confess, I wonder if I’m temperamentally, or even professionally, inadequately equipped for such a position.

Why would I think this?

1. When I tried “Agent for a Day” on Nathan Bransford’s blog, I picked only one of the actual published books, and passed on the query letters of at least two that had already become or were becoming best-sellers. I.e., my sense of what the market wants is apparently zilch. I’d have a hard time convincing editorial committee to gamble on the book of my choice, when I can’t seem to tune into what’s actually selling out there.

2. I’m a contrarian by nature. When the world loved Paul McCartney, I loved George Harrison. I have failed to be grabbed by Hogwarts, Middle Earth, or Narnia; during Seinfeld, I sat irritated while other people fell out of their chairs laughing. So apparently I’m missing that gene that enables me to enjoy and connect with “mass appeal.” I’d probably look right at a future best-seller, wrinkle my nose and toss it back over the transom.

3. The kinds of books I want to read contain no “F” bombs, no sex on the page, and no nihilistic or apocalyptic endings. I like light in the darkness, not more wallowing in same. That narrows the field of what I’d put out in the marketplace considerably. (See #1 for the consequences of this…er…attitude.) Added to this that I’m a conservative and a Catholic, and unapologetic about either—with reading tastes to match—and I can see many, many places in which the corporate culture and I simply wouldn’t mix.

4. I’m one of those old-fashioned souls who actually believes that good writing and a good story should trump everything else. Therefore, if it’s a choice between Deepak Chopra’s son’s tome about lessons he learned from his dog and a new book by an author with no track record, but a wonderful story…it’d be no contest. Nothing personal, Deepak. It’s business. And stories. Which should count more than New Age nonsense of spouting “wisdom” from a subservient creature, no matter whose celebrity name is attached to it. There’s smart marketing, and then there’s pandering. ‘nuff said.

5. If it comes down to push vs. shove, I’m an author advocate. Yes, I know. All editors portray themselves as author advocates when they’re speaking at conferences and encouraging submissions. Trouble is, I really mean it…which could end up being a thorn in your side if I saw a potential unfair rights-grab, a murky royalty setup, or a contractual overreach about to happen on my watch. My belief? If we ain’t got authors, we ain’t got product, and we ain’t got a house for long. If you really grasp that, then we’d both enjoy my colorful presence on site. But I’ve seen enough of the business end of this business to know that my “colorful” attitude can quicky become dismissed as “quirky” or feared as “dangerous” before very long.

So be it. ☺

I want to still believe, deep in that place where I dream of rainbows and unicorns, that there’s a publishing house out there where my curmudgeonly temperament and tastes would be right at home. Reading PW and the like, however, makes me increasingly believe otherwise. It’s a shame…but what is, is.

I guess I’ll have to resign myself to being a house’s best-selling author instead.

Unless…

Stay tuned for the flip side of this post, coming next!

Janny

Why "Publishing"...Isn't Actually the Point

When so many of us were newbies in the business of writing fiction, we dreamed of our names on book covers. Admit it. You did, didn't you? I sure did.

Some of us did more than dream of it. At least one writer I know actually took a book cover that had a title identical to one of her works in progress, pasted her name and particulars on the cover in place of the actual author's name, and put the paste-up on her bulletin board where she looked at it every day while she worked.

It did the trick. She sold, and sold, and sold again. She's probably still selling, although I've lost track of her so I couldn't tell you for sure.

But the point is...we all have that book cover in our heads somewhere, at least in our fantasies. Sometimes we can't bring ourselves to be as bold as that author was, but we still dream about it.

What does that book cover say to a newbie?
That they've been published.
That was the dream we grabbed hold of when we took the plunge here. That we were going to become  published authors.

So how's that dream worked out? For some of us, fabulously. For some others of us, not so fabulously. And for a lot of us, not at all...yet.

Veterans in the writing biz have, at times, taken it upon themselves to tell us that some of us will get our hearts broken. Some of us will never sell a book to a publisher. Some of us will never have that book cover. They're trying to let us down gently, because book publishing is such a numbers game. They think they're doing us a service. They're not...because few of us ever think that the one who'll get her heart broken is us !

But more to the point, I think they've failed to tell us the most important part of that message: that  publishing  isn't what the business is about at all. Certainly not in this age of "instant publishing" via the Web--but even before we had such things available to anyone with a keyboard, "publishing" wasn't what this business was about in the first place.

“Publishing,” after all, is nothing more than "making something public." It's putting your words up somewhere public, attributed to an author. In that sense, lots and lots of things can be considered "published," all the way from Letters to the Editor, to this blog, to graffiti on a washroom wall...if you've signed it.

What matters, therefore, is not whether we're published authors. What the term "published" used to mean and convey is what we're after: i.e., the book is out, it's on the bookstore shelves and in the library catalogs, it's available for purchase through an online retailer or in a store...and someone pays us for it regularly.  We have professional recognition. We have credibility. Someone was willing to risk real dollars on us...and we've come through.

In other words... publishing isn't the goal. Being well-published, by a  well-respected house whose name and reputation mean something, is.

That's what gives us the book cover and its book on the shelves: a publisher sinking money into our work because he or she thinks the company will make money off it.

That's what gives us the readership: a publisher spending marketing and distribution money to get copies of the books out to the stores and into the outlets so people can give that money back  to  the publisher...and, ultimately, to us as authors.

That's what gives us the fame and fortune (!), or at least aforementioned credibility...and enables us to live out the real, ultimate, streets-of-gold pipe dream of eventually supporting ourselves through our fiction writing.

Not merely being “published” by a house that does nothing with the book, basically, but print it. Or worse, charges us to do so!
Not merely being able to call ourselves “published” because there's an ISBN out there with our name on it.
Not signing away book after book to places that may as well be black holes, for all the chance any real flesh-and-blood readers are going to have to see the book and enjoy it.

No matter how many bells, horns, and whistles some "publishers" trot out to make us feel "special"...in the end, feeling "special" isn't what this business is about. Getting read, getting the rewards for hard work, and getting (hopefully) future contracts for more work are what this business is about. Getting our stories in front of lots and lots and lots of eyeballs is the key, and there's no substitute for it.

Big, reputable publishers have the means available to them to go after  those eyeballs. That's what I want from a publishing experience: eyeballs. I'm in this business to be read.  Savored. Absorbed. To take a place on someone's "keeper" shelf.

But that can't happen with many of the so-called "publishing" opportunities that presently exist.  Ever.

There's a stubborn inverse snobbism that's been around in publishing for a long time: the conviction that "big publishing" is somehow out to "get us all," that it really doesn't like "new voices" or "new stories," and that it only wants to make money on pap and keep that pap out there. That it's, therefore, somehow “selling out” to make a work “marketable” to them, when anyone can publish anything, anywhere, now...and not have to mess with all those "judges" and "gatekeepers."

But that's a conviction we embrace and act on at our peril.

Because that conviction, while it may get us “published” in the strict sense of the word, will never, ever  accomplish what we actually dreamed of, all those years ago, when we imagined our name on a book cover.

It's an artificial shortcut. And, like most artificial shortcuts...in the end, it puts us further behind than we started out.

If we make the mistake of deciding to pursue our careers within that narrow, spiteful worldview, we might have the "comfort" of our "artistic integrity"--but we'll have nothing else real to show for our work, our investments of time and emotion and blood and sweat and tears. We'll have no readers, we'll have no money, and we'll have absolutely no respect in the business of "real" publishing.

In the end, sometimes, we may even have no joy in the writing anymore.
And in the end, I believe, that approach can break our hearts.

So, from where I sit, I believe we need to be careful about this "publishing" business, and have the guts to hold out to do it right.  We have to have the courage to face the possibility that the big brass-ring dream may  not  ever happen for us...and be brave enough to determine what will become of us if, in the end, we don't "get there."

I think that's what the veterans were all challenging us to ask ourselves. Unfortunately, judging from the plethora of really bad "publishing" that has gone on in recent years--and the beating the industry has taken, at least partially, as a result of all this slapdash shortcut-taking--many of us didn't have the guts to ask or answer that question.

And many of us are still running, scared to answer it.

But fear is never a good basis for any decision. Especially not one with the lasting implications of a publishing decision. Jumping into the wrong "opportunity" at the wrong time can end up being a nightmare...and a trap.

Don't let fear override your dream.
Don't try to short-circuit the trip.
Be willing to invest the time. To pause and consider. To trust. And to wait...a lifetime, if necessary.

The heart you save may be your own. The work you save...will most certainly be worth it.

Thoughts?
Janny

If This Isn't a Quote of the Day, It Oughta Be

"The gift of wine warms the soul and creates an experience with memories that will be cherished long after the occasion is over."

Isn't that simply marvelous? I mean, it's hokey as hell, but I love hokey, so that in itself doesn't disqualify anything. :-)

But I freely admit, I'm especially fond of the "warms the soul" part. :-)

I stole it from an e-mail from Franciscan Estates, which has gotten it into their heads that I want to order great quantities of wine for gifts, or for whatever. I DO...only most winemakers and wine merchants, for whatever reason, cannot deliver to Indiana. 

So it's kind of a waste of time to order wine gifts that cannot be delivered to...me.

I do want wine, however, and a sizable quantity of same, as I have just received REJECTION #1 from the list of agents to whom I have sent my latest submissions.

Pah. 

I don't intend to overindulge...but if you're pouring, I'll be right over. I could use a bit of soul-warming right about now.

Just sayin'.

Thoughts?

Janny

God Is Good!

...just know that.

More to come later,

Janny

Okay, Now I'm Officially Gonna Beg

If you have ever, and I mean EVER, thought this blog was worthwhile and you'd like to see the CWC continue to operate without losing too much sleep...

I have a donation button over on the side, and I would be truly blessed if you used it. :-)

The immediate needs:

--DH's prescriptions, which ran over budget

--Desperately needed work on both cars (like rear brakes, trans work, and body repair on the van PM commutes in, engine work and brake work on the Stratus, and tires for both)

--Needed work on house (everything from carpet cleaning to floor repairs)

--Spare money for groceries, utility catch-up, and medical bill repayment

Other bloggers have successfully managed to raise enough funds for, say, putting their cars back together and/or paying off a looming bill. The cars are pretty desperately in need, probably the worst need we have--in that if you don't have running cars, you can't get to work and earn the money to pay for running cars...

uh-yup.

I'm trusting God, but I'd love to see Him work through His people!

Okay, begging over. New blog post of actual value (!) to follow soon.

Janny

Giving God a Blank Check...and Other Good Ideas

Several weeks ago, I dropped the ball big-time.

I was out to dinner with the hub and two people I hadn't seen in awhile, and the conversation touched on how we'd ended up in Indiana, anyway. (That question always gets asked when you're from anywhere other than Indiana, especially from Chicago.) I responded that, while it was a question with a much longer answer, essentially, it was a matter of a) Patrick was losing his job, b) a desperate financial situation that necessitated our finding a different place/manner to live, and c) my desire to get out of the suburban nonsense and traffic and noise.  So, as I wandered up the stairs, I said to God, "Well, if you want us to live in a small town, you're gonna have to provide a JOB in it."

...and then I logged on to Catholic Jobs.com, and the rest was history.

(Not before, I said, of course, "Where the HELL is Huntington, Indiana?")

My friends were quick to laugh and tell me that was my first mistake: telling God that if He wanted something, He'd have to provide a way for me to do it, and leaving the rest to Him.

Or, as one of them said, "You see, you can't give God a blank check, because then...watch out!"

I laughed along, but I shouldn't have.

I should have stood up for my God, and what He means, and what giving Him a blank check is all about. Because the woman who gave that advice--as intelligent, savvy, and creative as she is--is wrong.

Of course you're supposed to give God a blank check.

What else is being a child of His all about?

When we're children, our parents have those blank checks, don't they? They can write anything into our lives that they see fit. And we, as children, don't have much to say about it.

Now, in the hands of good, caring parents, this blank check is no problem. 

We all know about the other kind, and we needn't dwell on them here...because that's not what we're talking about when we're talking about God.

Because God isn't that "other kind" of parent.

But joking about "Don't ever give Him a blank check"...makes Him sound like one.

That makes God sound capricious at best, and sadistic at worst. Like He's sitting up there just waiting for one of us to "put our foot in it" and give Him too much leeway, so he can pull a "gotcha."

And that's wrong.

And I should have stuck up for Him.

Not because He needs me to stick up for Him. He's GOD, after all. Like he needs me to do that?

Not.

But for my own sake, for the sake of what I'm truly trying to do--which is live my life under the parameters of "Be it done unto me according to Thy word"--I should have spoken up.

I should have said, "What do you mean, you can't give God a blank check? What else would I do for the Father who created me, who loves me, who sent his Son, for heaven's sake, just for me?"

A favorite Scripture verse for many of us is, "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."

But what does that mean, exactly?

Do we really know?

The fact is...when we say that, we commit ourselves to just that precise "blank check" that this woman, and so many people in our culture, abhor so much when it comes to God.

Because we're saying we're going to serve.
As in, "You say jump, I ask how high." 

As in turning our own selves over to Him, to use as He sees fit.

As in this isn't about me. It's about what You're going to do with me.

I should have said so then...but at least I can say so here. Saying it late is better than never saying it.

My job isn't to give God some kind of "marching orders." I'll take this, but not that.

My job isn't to dictate to Him, to give Him conditions, or to hem Him in. Yeah, I want to live in a small town, but not in Indiana, please. Oh, and not in the South, I hate the heat. And not in California, either, because that place is just plain nuts. And...

Because in the end, who do I think I am to even consider praying like that?

This is not to say that I haven't prayed like that, and continue to do so. Old habits die hard, and I'm as much a seeker of creature comforts and convenience as anybody, if not more so.

But as a Christian, I ought to know better. Heck, I do know better, even if it's hard to remember sometimes.

I'm trying to trust more. And the first step to that trust is being willing to see that I'm not here on this earth to fill out forms and write manuals full of rules by which I believe God has to abide or He's not being "fair."

The Scripture doesn't say, "As for me and my house, God is at our convenience."

It has to be the other way around, or it ain't real Christianity.

It ain't real anything.

So, to me, real starts with giving Him as many blank checks as He wants.

And then hanging on tight.

Not because you can't trust Him to write something good for you...

...but because what He writes will probably be so far beyond what you can presently even imagine that it'll blow your socks clean off, knock you from your chair, and send you darn near airborne.

The flight may not be what you've got planned. In fact, it probably won't be.

But it can still be a glorious journey, if you're willing to ride it out on, and underneath, His wings.

That's what I should have said.

I apologize, Lord.

I'll do better next time.

Thoughts?

Janny

A true story...which explains a lot

Yesterday, my crit partner mentioned one underlying problem we all have now and then when trying to create: the bad mix of trying to "fit our work in a box" versus trying to truly write what's in our heart, the story that begs to be told, and then worry about the "box" it'll fit in afterward. She finished up with hoping I wouldn't "hem myself in" with "Must color inside the lines...must color inside the lines..."

Little does she know how accurate that is.

True story. 

Little Janny, as a first-grader,  is assigned to color something (you're always assigned to color something in first grade. Like they have to persuade you to color?). She colors it. 

Now, Little Janny LIKES crayons. She does bold strokes. She tends to stray over lines. She tends to use intense sorts of coloring, and it's not a neat product when she's done.

Sister Rosemary, in conference with parents, expresses Grave Concern about this.
"Little Janny's coloring is very sloppy," Sister says. "Does she have fine motor control issues?"
Parents, to whom fine motor control is something you find in a Cadillac (which may as well be a DeLorean, for the likelihood of them having one), are puzzled.

Sister Rosemary explains further.
"See, she's pushing way too hard on these crayons, and the movements are jerky. She goes outside the lines. Does she have problems seeing?"
Parents, who understand word "seeing," say, "Nope."

Sister Rosemary  goes on.
"Well, to color properly, she needs to put way less pressure on her crayons." Sister holds up exemplary picture from classmate, colored in careful pastels. It's a thing of beauty. Looks like it was professionally printed.
"Like this. See? She doesn't need to press down so hard to get color out. If she presses lightly, she'll be able to stop short of the lines, and then just fill in the edges, and her work will be neater."
Parents, who think Little Janny is already pretty neat for a six-year-old (they remember her careful arrangements of stuffed toys and toy animals on the bed), are still a little puzzled. Is neatness so important for coloring at this point? She got the "right" colors on the sky and the trees and the apples, so that was good, wasn't it?

The nun smiles indulgently.
"Of course, that part's excellent. But she'll have to be neater. This sloppiness is unacceptable. These scribbles at the edges of things--does she have some kind of problem? Maybe self-control?"
Parents, who are constantly urging her to be less shy, don't think so.
"Okay. So we don't have to worry yet. But just tell her...color lightly. Not so hard on the crayons. She'll break them and wear them out too soon that way, anyway. And when she colors lightly, she'll stay within the lines, and her work will be so much better."

Parents, who attribute wisdom to Sister, go home and tell Little Janny what Sister said.
Little Janny frowns for a second. "But that'll make my pictures too light. I like the colors darker."
Parents sigh, and tell her apparently what Sister wants is light colors and within the lines. Maybe she ought to color that way. That's the "right" way to color, after all. It'll make Sister happy.
Little Janny wants to make Sister happy.

So she internalizes this...until seventh grade.
Then Sister Carmen comes along and says, in art class: "Enough of this mamby-pamby pastel stuff. That's not what these crayons were made for. Crayons were made to put COLOR on the page. If you're not pressing hard enough that I can smell the wax on the paper, and if you're not wearing out a box a semester, you're not doing it right."

By then, it might well have been a little late.
Because in many ways Little Janny's still remembering Sister telling her the "right way" to color when she was six.

On the other hand, it's probably no coincidence that Sister Carmen, who turned me loose both to speak up and be heard (a whole other story in itself) AND color outside the lines and PRESS DOWN HARD ON THOSE THINGS...had a given baptismal name of Janet.

Uh-yup.  

Sister Janet, wherever you are, when this book of my heart is done...I hope you can smell the wax on the paper.

Thoughts?

Janny

The Dorchester Disgrace...and (all of) Our Part In It

If you don't make a habit of following publishing news and scuttle, it could be that maybe you don't know that Dorchester has done some very...er...interesting things to authors of late. I'm not going to publicize all the sites that talk about it, because there are a lot of them. But I'm also not going to talk about it so much from the "poor author" side of the desk, either...because the disgrace of what's happening with Dorchester has two sides, and one of these gets glossed over and/or dismissed all too often.

Yet it's precisely the option that gets ignored, rationalized away, or backed away from, that could deter this kind of thing from happening again--or at least happening so easily again.

What never ceases to amaze and astound me, in this case and many others, is the reluctance and/or refusals of authors to band together and initiate the class-action lawsuit that situations like this are custom-made for. Yes, going to court is a pain, but that's what you have lawyers for. Yes, it costs money, but in cases like this, your lawyer can set things up so that the defendant pays the court costs if they're found guilty--which they would be. And yes, you could end up getting nothing in a bankruptcy proceeding; but D's not in bankruptcy yet. They're trying to avoid it. So if you strike now, your chances of being heard on this issue and actually recovering some monies increases tenfold over waiting to see what happens. Nothing of any positive value is going to come from waiting to see how much further this company will screw people.

Another point that is extremely well taken is that Amazon and B&N are complicit with this fraud--so even if D has no money, these other two do. And they can be just as liable. Which means that authors stand a chance to at least be paid something for what's been done to them. And something is always better than nothing. That's certainly the case for authors who've been owed  thousands of dollars in back royalties and have been prevented from even seeing an accounting of what they're owed...for years now. 

Think about that, because that's the crux of this matter.

What were they waiting for? 
Are these authors truly in the business of writing, or are they just pretending to be?  

You'll forgive me if, on more than a few occasions, it appears to be the latter. 

Yes, Dorchester has no business screwing authors. But authors also have no business screwing themselves by not availing themselves of every legal avenue available to them within a reasonable time of when things start to go south. If they lose money, shrug and walk away, or sit around waiting patiently for answers and results long past when a reasonable person should have sought relief, they are as much the problem as the publisher is...because they're in effect relieving the publisher of consequences. Are they so naive as to think that the next publisher down the road who gets in trouble isn't going to do exactly the same thing Dorchester's doing? Why would they think not?  
 
In plain English, Why in the world are so many authors afraid of simply enforcing their own contracts?

If you buy a fridge from Sears and you don't pay the bill, they don't let you keep it. If you try to keep it, they sue you to get it back, and they collect legal fees and damages from you.

If you sell a book to a publisher and they don't pay for it, don't let them keep it. Pursue the legal avenues you have available to you. Period. End of sentence. That's how business is done in the real world...except, curiously enough, when it comes to authors and publishers.

Sheesh. Sometimes, I truly believe we as authors not only allow ourselves to fall into ditches, but we take up the shovels and dig them ourselves. So despite all the hand-wringing, mud-slinging, and shock and dismay, on the other hand...it's really, really hard to work up too much indignation for authors who allow themselves to be taken advantage of, so egregiously, for so long. Especially since, in the long run, that reluctance to act just makes it easier for publishers to do it again, to another group of us, in the future.

As long as we let them...someone will.

A business doesn't get away without paying its utility bills. Or its rent. Or its phone bill.

Neither should it get away without paying its other vendors...the authors without whom a publisher has no product to sell in the first place.

If we let them get away with it for months, or years...we shouldn't be surprised when this happens.

And happens again. 

And we'll have no one to blame but ourselves for the losses we take and the pain we suffer.

Thoughts?

Janny

 

Quote of the Day...

...from Alton Brown, when asked if he was a "born-again" Christian:

Yeah, "born-again" is kind of an odd term because that's like saying a see-through window. But yes, I am a Christian.

I love this for two reasons:

1) it's so "Alton" in its dry approach.

2) it's true.

He's absolutely right. If you're a Christian, you are "born again (as many people understand it)," by definition. But it's much more true to Scripture, and more accurate, to say you are "born of the spirit." Notice that when Nicodemus asks Jesus how a man can be "born again," Jesus corrects him: He does not tell Nicodemus, "You must be born again." (Despite what you may have been taught in Bible class, even when Nicodemus presses that point, Jesus answers in different words. Allowing for Jesus always saying what He means, that is worth noting.) He says, "You must be born of the Spirit (or, in some translations, 'from above.')." This does not at all convey the same meaning as the "second birth" that some folks talk about. And I think that by continuing to use incorrect and/or unclear terminology, we unduly separate ourselves one from the other and continue to perpetuate some interesting misunderstandings about who is, and who is not, a "Christian."

If you're trusting Jesus Christ for your salvation, you're a Christian. If you're born of water and the spirit and confessing Jesus Christ every day of your life, you're a Christian. So I would submit that it's far better not to continue to confuse this issue and let jargon get in the way of acknowledging who we are and Whom we serve. 

Alton says it extremely well. Calling someone a "born-again" Christian is like saying "see-through window"--it's simply putting in a redundancy, and one that's guaranteed to set people apart rather than to bring them together. In that context, I would maintain that--for many reasons--"born-again" is a term that probably needs to be retired...permanently.

I always knew there was more than one good reason to be a foodie. :-)

Thoughts?

Janny

Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, YES!

This says it far better than almost anything else I've seen in a long time...

Of COURSE you want to be Catholic...if you're truly seeking Christ. This wonderful article above just gives you an eloquent, honest, and loving explanation for that "tug" you feel in your soul.

Don't fight it. Come to Mother. :-) We'll welcome you with open arms.

(Holy Hat Tip to the Ignatius Insight blog.)

Janny

Publisher "Approval"--The Bad Idea that Needs to Go Away

The first time I encountered the idea of a writers' organization having a list of "approved" or "non-approved" publishers was several years ago, in RWA. The idea, on its face, was presented as an honest effort by a major national organization at some author advocacy.

Unfortunately, that's not how it turned out. And it's an idea whose time was never good in the first place...one that needs to go away.

For those of you unfamiliar with how "approval" works, it breaks down this way: certain publishers are "good" for authors, while others are "not so good." In a well-intentioned effort to differentiate the two, RWA came up with criteria by which it would judge a publisher as "good for authors," or "approved."

Those publishers would then be the only houses from which authors could consider their books "recognized" in RWA as "real books." If your publisher was "approved," you could send your "new sales" information into the RWR, and it would be printed; if your publisher was not, it wouldn't. If your publisher was "approved," you could enter your book in RWA contests, including the national RITA awards. If your publisher was not--for the first time--you were ineligible for all of it.

Period.

Overnight, the complexion of many writers' careers changed. No grandfathering, no provisions for previous achievements, no retroactive crediting...nothing was going to crack that "approval" wall except publishers who could document that they met certain criteria.

Those critera included longevity/stability (the publisher had to have been in existence at least a year); sales (the publisher had to have sold X number of copies of X kind of book--specifically, romance fiction); and adherence to conventional "publishing norms" (the publisher had to pay royalties). Those don't sound so bad, do they? On the surface, no, of course not.

These rules were also--once again, to be fair--put forth in an effort to counter much of what was increasingly emerging as "publishing" but wasn't legitimate in one way or the other: scam "publishing," in which authors would underwrite anything from a portion of book production costs to the whole bill--and then might be left holding nothing at all, including the rights to their own work, when the companies went under. Added to this the number of non-subsidy "presses" that came and went, either from vast undercapitalization or sheer larceny on the part of the "owners" (or both!)...and the time might have seemed right for something like this, especially to protect newbies from the Web predators out there.

What was unfairly discriminatory about this policy, however, was something discovered only after many e-publishers had dutifully requested the paperwork, filled out the apps, provided the numbers, and jumped through hoops to "prove" themselves just as good as the big traditional guys: the "copies of books sold" had to be print copies.

You can see where this is heading.

E-book publishers, of course, raised a stink--as they had every right to do. This came about in the era before Kindle, Nook, and iPad...but that didn't mean that e-publishing was nonexistent, or that its books shouldn't have been considered "real books" if they were produced by royalty-paying publishers who could prove both longevity and the ability to market the books to readers to download in sufficient quantities that the author was paid for X sales of X number of books.

So, after having their collective heads slammed into a few walls enough times (executive boards don't do subtle), the powers that were at RWA at last decided to make a magnanimous, outside-the-box offer: they decided that the word "print" could be removed from the regulation of "approval." But, at the same time they took away the word "print" from the regulation for e-books, they added another new twist to the formula; by the time they got done, e-publishers would have to sell more copies of an e-book than a publisher would have to sell of a print book to get the same recognition.

Unfair? Yep, you bet it was. Deliberately targeted to eliminate e-book competition? RWA claimed not. The big monoliths--who, of course, cleared "approval" almost instantaneously--claimed not. But at least one e-publisher--who also put out print books--went through hoops not once, but twice, and still failed to qualify. As they put it, "Every time we filled out the paperwork and gave them figures, they raised the numbers." So they stopped. They warned their authors that this was how things were going down. They thanked their authors for being willing to be part of their adventure...but they would also understand if their authors decided not to submit any more to their house--since those books were no longer going to be considered "real" books by RWA anymore.

If this sounds crooked to you, it ought to. People who knew about what had happened to this reputable e-press began lobbying, and lobbying, and lobbying...only to be stonewalled. And when the dust settled, what was appallingly clear was that this kind of "approval," in the hands a few multipublished authors who all had firm footings in the "big guns" on the block, could be doled out as they saw fit--with rules changing as they saw fit--and with no accountability whatsoever to the membership. Why? Because this whole idea had never been put to the membership for a vote in the first place.

Now, since I've been out of the RWA circle for a couple of years, I don't know if anything has changed substantially in the interim. But the basic idea behind this "protection" was never a good one; was always biased against new voices, and smaller or newer firms, in the publishing world--no matter how successful they were proving to be, or maybe because of how successful they were proving to be; and, since it was never put to the membership as a question but imposed from above, it at best appears arbitrary and at worst verges on restraint of trade.

No, no one's saying you can't sell to a "non-approved" publisher...just don't expect your professional writers' organization to give you credit for having a real book, a real sale, or any standing in possible award or contest eligibility, no matter if you've written the next Gone With the Wind.

Fast forward to the ACFW decision to also have "approval" for publishers...and many of the same things are possible. That's scary.

No, I don't assume that because ACFW is a Christian organization, that that means this process will be above reproach. We're all sinners. We're all human. If we get a chance to seize power and apportion out "approval," some of us, eventually, are going to abuse it. But even if that never happens--even if by some miracle the ACFW use of "approved" publishers is always evenhanded, fair, and non-discriminatory--the point remains that this is a stupid provision. It divides authors into "real authors" and "those who aren't quite real yet." It divides books into "real books" and "those that aren't quite real yet."

And it sets up a "pecking order" that puts yet another burden on already understaffed and overextended publishers, to "prove" that their authors "deserve" to be recognized for selling "real books"--on the basis of a writers' organization's say-so, rather than where the recognition, the sales credits, and the kudos ought to come from...which is the marketplace.

Yeah. Readers and book buyers. Remember them? They're pretty smart people, yanno? They buy books, they like books, they write about books they like on their blogs...they tell other people...and those people buy books. "Real" books deserving of real honors come out of that kind of "sorting" process...not out of some artificial designation of "real" versus "not real" arrived at by a foolishly self-important organization of writers.

Writers don't determine what succeeds in the marketplace, except as readers and buyers. They shouldn't determine who can consider themselves a "real" publisher or a "real" author, either. That's not their decision. It never has been. It never will be. And the notion that a writers' organization's board should be able to "mother hen" the process like this is only borrowing trouble from one organization and putting it into a place where, if anything, the discrimination could be based on even more nebulous criteria than mere sales or print versus e-books...

This "approval" mechanism was never a good idea in a secular organization. It's far worse an idea in a religious one. It's a disaster waiting to happen...it's pandering to big guys while reducing a great many members to "nonentities" despite sales contracts...and it needs to go away.
NOW.

Thoughts?
Janny

Yanno, It's Nice to Have All the Answers

Different.

Sometimes, when things aren't working super-well, you can turn them around by a mere matter of a few extra days’ (weeks’, months’) persistence.

And sometimes not.

Over the past several years, I’ve been “trying” to do a lot of different things. I’ve been trying to build a freelance writing career—which has meant, at times, being at the laptop when I should have been elsewhere. In one instance, I remember typing away on an assignment for which I had a Monday deadline…only the Monday was the Monday AFTER EASTER.

Uh-yup. There I was, between making Easter Sunday dinner and seeing The Boy out the back door afterward from his holiday visit, playing catchup on an assignment that continued into the evening hours. And this wasn’t because I’d let anything slide beforehand…the assignment simply WAS what it WAS. A lot of work, time-consuming and time-intensive…with no other day to do it on but a holiday.

Yes, it was insanity. But when you’re building a business, you frequently engage in insane behavior because you believe you HAVE to.  I believed I had to.

I don’t believe that anymore.

Because, in the end, I didn’t succeed in accomplishing what I intended to do with the freelance income. Various factors contributed to this, everything from the economy slowing down to simple human limitations; there are only so many late nights and weekends and holidays one can give up before one pays the price for it.  So, sadly enough, the yeoman sacrifices I made didn’t do what they were supposed to do.

In retrospect, I would have done things differently. MUCH differently. But unfortunately, one can’t act from hindsight.

Except, of course, for the future.

And so I have decided, over the past several weeks, that my future actions need to be different from the past, and even the recent present.

For years, I have taken a mile or so walk outdoors every single morning—the only exceptions being of glare ice underfoot or lightning from overhead. At times, this walk has been the only thing that has kept me reasonably contented. It’s given me fresh air, it’s restored my soul, it’s been a balm after some of those late nights when I felt like hell warmed over.

But it at times, also, has become a burden and a chore.

So recently…once in awhile…I have foregone it. 

Which led me to think about some other things I can also forego.

Like setting the alarm earlier than 6 in the morning. (If I prepare well the night before, I have almost nothing to do in the morning that takes very long—and I can still walk, if I wish. J)

Like weighing myself every day.

Like…dare we say it…fretting about my weight and trying endlessly to lose.

This has also been a futile effort of late. I’m not sure what all it will take to make the effort successful, but for the past couple of weeks, I’ve decided that for a little while, anyway, I’m going to stop trying…since TRYING didn’t work at all. I lost 10 pounds on Atkins, five years ago, and then that stopped dead. When I get extremely busy doing something extremely wonderful (like the nonstop holiday cleaning and preparing), I can lose as much as 7 pounds in a week.

Unfortunately…I’m not that busy all the time. Fortunately…because that kind of activity leaves me EXHAUSTED for an entire day or more afterward.

Which is why I’ve started to think that maybe, just maybe, all this “discipline” I’ve been trying to exert over myself has been greatly overrated, especially since most of it has not accomplished what it was “supposed” to do.

So maybe those folks who talk about “trying easy” have had the right idea all along. Not that I can tell, since most of them talk that job, but are just as driven and overworked as the people they’re trying to get to slow down…

…but I digress.

Long blog short (even if it’s too late for that), I’m conducting a new experiment. I’m going to challenge every single thing I’m thinking I “have to do” or “ought to do” that wasn’t bringing me the results anyway…

…and I’m going to try something different.

Different might just be much, much better.

I’m hoping so.

It’s at least going to be easier on me, my emotions, my sense of self, my overblown shame and “duty” complex, and—hopefully—my overall health in the long run.

I’ll keep you posted on how it goes.

Thoughts?

Janny

I love this!!!!!

H/T to Nathan Bransford for this bit of fun!

Janny

AMEN!

If you want the whole story...read this.

If you want what I consider to be the best lines of the whole thing, they're here:

 . . . we should recognise the fundamental role that property rights play in the making of cultural things. Compared to the exciting rhetoric of the need for everything to be free, that might seem unglamorous, unromantic, and indeed hard‐hearted. But it may be all of those things and yet still be a better road for our society to take.

Do not be misled by claims of high principle in this debate. When someone tells you content wants to be free, what you should hear is ‘I want your content for free ’ – and that is not the same thing at all.

EXACTLY.

I am fed up with "brave new worldists"--many of whom have never written an original word in their lives--crowing about "content wanting to be free." That's just a polite way of saying  that they think they should be allowed to harvest freely  from MY creativity and MY work without giving me either credit or compensation for it.

In other words, they simply want to take whatever they want, whether it's theirs or not.

The way I was raised...that's called STEALING.

It still is.

The key to changing and arresting this deplorable situation is in not backing down--in being brave enough to align ourselves with people strong enough, and principled enough, to slap these people's little hands and force them to stop.

Thoughts?
Janny