Misfit Ten

Ten Things That Didn't Fit Previous Ten Things Lists

1. The Internet Public Library's collection of links to free online texts.

2. Without question, the best paper I've ever read on success and failure.

3. Peter Anspach's Evil Overlord List.

4. The Traditional Latin Mass in, what else, Latin (but a nice side column English translation.)

5. Star Naming: lots of people buy nonsense like this, and this explains why you shouldn't.

6. Just in case you didn't get enough here, the Abuse-a-tron.

7. If I couldn't write, I'd work here. Or here. Or here (and if that quality control job at the factory does ever open up again, I would like to be notified at once.)

8. Own a virtual slave with the Cyberbuddy.

9. At four to six weeks per book, I'm a pretty fast writer. This guy is way faster.

10. Want a percent of his/her heart? Try the Love Calculator.

Detox

I finally located a used copy of Dame Kathleen Kenyon's Digging Up Jericho, a vital component to some biblical/archaeological research I've been doing. The bookseller sent me a faintly mildewed, yellowing copy that was a library discard, for which I paid a semi-reasonable $14.50 (happily; I've been trying to get this book for months.)

Old books that have not been cared for stink, and over the years this is what I've discovered while trying to detox them:

Never use liquids or anything strongly scented like perfume to detox a book. Febreze is for fabric, not pages. Perfume has alcohol and other agents in it that can stain and cause more harm to the book.

People advocate sealing the book in a large bag or box with several crumpled sheets of newspaper or inserting folded sheets of newspaper every couple of pages or so, changing the newspaper frequently. This is slow and I've never found it to work completely for me.

Sun can bleach out a lot of odors, but it can also harm delicate old books. Not recommended.

Putting the book in a bag of cat litter can actually create more problems, depending on the brand. Some litters are treated with chemicals that can leave spots and stains of their own. Also not something I'd try.

Talcum powder: I can't find any unscented, or I'd give it a whirl.

My method: I make sure the book is completely dry*, then I use a soft-bristle brush on any visible mildew flakes and brush out what I can. I spread a small amount of cornstarch on each page, the end pages, the cover and down the spine, wrap the book in tissue paper and let it sit undisturbed for two or three days. I then shake out and then brush out the cornstarch. It completely absorbs the odors and leaves no residue.

I don't recommend anyone try to detox a truly valuable book; hire a professional conservator to restore it instead. Minnesota Historical Society has some info on that here, and Antiques Roadshow has a good article on the subject here.

*How to dry a wet book, via University of Delaware Library.

The Real Deal

I've only written two screenplays, one with another author which made it to the last round of elimination in a national contest, and one for fun. I will be the first to say that I am not a natural screenwriter. Screenplay writing is damn hard, for one thing, and requires much more self-discipline than novel writing.

For those of you interested in writing for the screen as well as print, check out screenwriter/novelist Lee Goldberg's weblog, A Writer's Life. One of his recent posts, "Is a Story Really Necessary" is so funny you should not drink beverages while reading it.

My solution for the story-challenged screenwriters? Send them over to use the Plot-O-Matic.

VBT$

While everyone is singing praises for The Virtual Book Tour as the next big promo thing, do remember to check out the pricetag and what services are actually included before you jump on the band wagon.

The questions a writer should always ask when considering this kind of promo: 1) Can I afford it, 2) where are the hard sales numbers, 3) are the resulting sales established and consistent, and 4) what name authors are doing it? If the answer to any of these questions is no, none, or even it's difficult to say, then buyer, beware.

Op4

All went well with me yesterday, btw. Looks like it was the last of the lower jaw work, but Monday I'll know for sure when I go for my follow-up. Once I get that green light, we start on the upper part, which in comparison will be a walk in the park.

My part of the tab so far: $7,650.00, with about another two or three grand to go. This is very reasonable -- another doc down in South Florida wanted to charge me twice this -- and I've been setting money aside for it for the last year.

My situation is not unusual. Like most writers, I have to insure myself. I carry major medical, because it would be insane not to, but I shop around and currently I pay about $170.00 a month for the coverage, which is fairly comprehensive (and, oddly, about what I pay for car insurance.) My medical insurer is CGI, if you're interested in checking out their rates.

The rest of my medical expenses -- including the oral/dental -- comes out of my pocket. Much of the work I'm having done is considered "cosmetic" so it's not covered under my policy or would be covered by any dental insurance I might obtain. I never thought of being able to talk and chew as optional, but there you go.

Ten Eleven on Ten

Ten Eleven Things from Reader Mail About Ten Things*

1. Stop making fun of writers because were sirious (sic).

Yes, I can see that you are.

2. Almost everyone in my novel has sex with my main character. Does that really mean it needs work?

It really does.

3. I think you should run for office.

I do run for my office. Frequently.

4. Who was the author who spit in your face? I'd like to thank him.

Let me guess. You're a reviewer.

5. Did you instigate the "Ten Things I've Done that You Haven't" meme?

No. I also don't own the words "ten" and "things." Please make note of this.

6. Why don't you do a ten things about editors?

What, and spoil the expose?

7. Your weblog is ugly and boring and your ten lists are stupid.

But the typing, you must agree, is fabulous.

8. I don't think you're as funny as Letterman.

Which is why he's on TV and I'm not. That and the pancake makeup, eyeliner, and pantyhose requirements.

9. I'm going to do a ten things I love about you list.

Aw, that's sweet. Be sure to mention that, contrary to rumors, I can count that high. *Only not at 5:34 am.

10. Thank you for the link to Mandarin Design. I'm learning so much from that site for my blog.

That's why they were #1 on the list.

11. Would you do a ten list today? I'm depressed.

Me, too. Here you go.

Color

I would like to meet whoever names the shades of Patterworks' wool. Why? When it comes to color, there is no writer on earth who can match these wordsmiths.

Like Aurora 8 merino wool: it's offered in shades like Cadet, Persimmon, Aubergine, Seashell, and Cantelope. And Softly, a furry nylon that you can buy in Love Potion, Jealousy, and Belladonna. 1824 wool, named for its gauge (18 stitches and 24 rows to 4 inches), doesn't have a single blase shade in inventory; it comes in Mallow, Raisin, Nectar, Dijon, Thyme, Oyster, Macaw, Damson, Heath and Charcoal, to name a few.

There are wool colors named after famous artists, gemstones, celebrities, earth elements, cities, and foods. The palettes and textures are like drugs for the eyes already, but the names make you want to haul out the credit card so you can purchase 10 skeins of Renoir or Beach Glass or Popsicle. The nice thing about Patternworks is that their products are as good or better than what you see online or in the catalog.

Other sources for unique color words: Paint chip charts and booklets (available at places like Lowe's and Home Depot) -- these can give you a new universe of words for white and pastel colors -- as wells as shades of embroidery floss, tile, wallpaper, and drapery samples, and labels on the bolts of cloth in fabric stores.

Freebie

Smithsonian magazine will be celebrating their 35th anniversay by offering loyal readers and a guest free admission on one day, April 30, 2005, to over 460 participating museums and cultural institutions across the U.S. The full list of the participants, along with the card-pass you need to get in free, will be in Smithsonian's April '05 issue. You can also check out the list of participants by state here.

Dream On

Thanks for the e-mails. We're all okay. Mike got his cast off, but the bone is only at 75%, so he has another four weeks in the chair. His Dad is in fine shape. I'm feeling pretty optimistic about my turn tomorrow.

Everything else . . . well, I've been listening to a lot of Aerosmith. They've long been one of my favorite bands. So much so that this webblog came pretty close to being named Dream On.

I first heard Dream On* the same year I started writing novels, which was -- God -- thirty-one years ago. Since that summer I've probably worn out about a hundred copies of it. I just listened to it an hour ago, as I was driving back from taking the kids to school.

Dream On is not a pretty or happy song. It's a reality check, a comfort, and a warning, all rolled into one. It was the song that defended me against disco and wrap around skirts and Farah hair. It got me through some dark times. I know, it may not rank very high on the Musical History Lists, but it spoke to me. With music, that's all that matters.

If Paperback Writer makes me laugh at myself, then Dream On holds me together. I think everyone should have a song like that.

*You youngsters who have never heard the song can watch and listen to Steven Tyler's live performance of it here, with orchestra in the background, about halfway down the page. Loads nicely even on dial-up.

Deadlines

Yesterday was not a good day for anything but writing, so last night I finished the third book of the year. Needs a final read-through, but it's in decent shape.

Today I go to the bone doc with my son, and see how the fracture looks. If it hasn't healed, we're looking at a third cast or surgery. My son has been in a wheelchair for about two months now, and I have a whole new respect for the handicapped and what they have to deal with out in public.

While we're doing that, his father will be fifty miles away having his four month post-op check. He's fine so there shouldn't be any scares there.

Thursday I go back for my fourth go-round with my doc, which may or may not be the last, depending on how everything has healed.

Not a good week to be depressed and angry, so I'm going down to the lake as soon as humanly possible to hang out with the birds and do some meditating. I have some letters to write, and some Chinese brocade to play with, too. I'm going to make a new tablecloth, now isn't that riveting? It's just nonstop glamour around here.

Life goes on, even when we're diminished by something terrible and sad, something that makes us so angry we don't trust ourselves to speak to our friends. Life is like that.

Gone

I just heard about the death of writer Hunter S. Thompson from Chris Locke, aka Rageboy. He has a memorial post here.

I don't know what to write.

Ten Things That Happened at My Booksignings

1. I met a Very Famous Author's ex, who decided to confide in me. A lot.

Some pretty decent stuff, too. The lives I could ruin . . .

2. I was asked what I saw when I was assigned to Area 51. When I said that I had never been there or worked there, I was accused of being part of a military conspiracy.

The manager rescued me and escorted the deranged gentleman out of the store.

3. I was cornered in the ladies room by two lady fans, one of whom hugged me so hard my neck cricked.

After that, I learned to go before or hold it.

4. A woman handed me her infant so she could get my book out of her purse, and the baby's diaper was leaking.

It was only a silk suit.

5. A fan who was also a cop ran my tags to see if I really was the S.L. Viehl. Then he told me, just in case I was worried.

Be nice to your cop readers. They can be spooky, and they carry weapons.

6. An ex-boyfriend showed up after twenty years to tell me he should have married me instead of dumping me for the Girl Most Likely to Do Everyone. He's in insurance now and has four kids.

I would like to point out that I did not fervently thank God until after he left.

7. Another author spit in my face. Accidentally.

That's what he said, anyway.

8. I had a sudden, violent reaction to my arthritis medication and ran into the closest room, the manager's office, to throw up in her trash can. She thought it was nerves and offered to cancel the booksigning.

I cleaned up the mess, went to gargle (she had a little sample thing of mouthwash in her purse) and went back to the signing.

9. I received two dozen blazing orange roses in a Chinese vase and a lovely but cryptic note card from someone who felt I had done something wonderful for them.

Never found out what I'd done, or who I'd done it to. Anyone want to confess yet?

10.

Yeah, but I made her wear that dress.

Rep Me

Mad Max responds to M.J. Rose's latest post and talks about letting authors deal with sales reps versus keeping them in the dark.

I'm the last author on earth that you'd think a publisher would let talk to a sales rep, right? Wrong. I talk to them all the time. When I do, I know that I represent both my work and the company that publishes it, and conduct myself accordingly. I always tell the publisher about the contacts and copy them on everything, because they should know what an author is telling their buyers.

Example: the buyer I referred to in this post contacted me directly. I had a friendly exchange with the buyer and copied my editor on everything. My editor and I discussed how best to respond to the buyer's requests. My editor wanted me to jump my schedule and present the next novel in the series. I disagreed and suggested that we stick to our plan. There is nothing that turns off an interested buyer faster than a rush job. Also, I have confidence in the work, as well as the level of interest. It'll all still be there in eight weeks, when we're actually ready to present the next novel. My editor agreed with my logic and went with my advice (yes, that does happen. The writer/editor relationship never has to be a one-way street.)

As to whether authors should be permitted to have regular contact with the sales reps, I think that should be up to the sales reps. Otherwise they're going to spend more time answering e-mails and calls and less time selling our books.

Ice Skates, Anyone?

Upon joining the ranks of SF authors, I was informed that a certain honor would never be paid to a certain female author in the genre. Putting SF on the NYT BSL was a bad thing, you see. One cannot be so vulgar as to write SF that actually sells well. Also, there has always been that question as to whether she genuinely qualifies as a SF writer, because there was all that Other Stuff in her books.

No, I was told, The Organization had its standards to think of, and unless a catastrophic event of mythic proportions occurred, this author would never ever ever be recognized for her career achievements. I think her work is brilliant, myself, but then, what do I know? I was silly enough to resign from that unprofessional bunch of morons organization.

So? Why didn't one of you guys e-mail and tell me that Hell had gone and frozen over?

Congratulations, Anne McCaffrey.

FreeLinks

Links to freeware and free trial version software of interest to writers: Abiword, Active Tree Notes, Acute Notes, Aviz Thought Mapper, Book Writer, Browzer Books Art Pac, Cliche Cleaner, EBook Compiler, Manuscript Tracking, NotesPad Text Editor, Rhyme, Spell Magic, Stay Connected, StoryMind.com's free trial versions of Story Weaver, Dramatic Pro, and Movie Magic, Word Sorter, WordWeb, Write It Now, and Yankee Clipper.

Another linking-large site, Writers Free Reference lives up to its handle with a terrific assortment of reference links on just about everything.

Burdens

Those of you who are squeamish might want to skip this post.

Back in the days when I earned my living scraping what was left of bad drivers and drunks out of wrecked cars, my partner and I responded to a two-car on a residential street. Residentials are always worse than highways because the public has instant access, and city cops may or may not know how to secure a scene (while troopers always know.)

The accident turned out to be a nasty head-on between a compact car and a ton and a half truck. Compact driver was dead on scene, and fire rescue was already dealing with the trucker. My partner spotted the cause of the accident when he pointed to the tail end of a motorcycle, driver still attached, sticking out from under the compact.

My partner was a big guy, so it was up to me to crawl down and check the victim. Body was a mess, but most bike accidents don't result in an open-casket funeral. Problem was, the biker was missing his helmet. He was also missing his head.

Decapitations were pretty common in the days before the air bag, so it wasn't a huge shock or anything. What jolted me was that the helmet and head weren't under the car. They were nowhere to be seen.

By this time cars were lining up on both sides of the street, hoping to cruise by for a peek. Neighbors, morning coffee cups in hand, packed the sidewalks. A news van was setting up a tripod not thirty feet from the compact, and another was parking. The cops on the scene were busy fussing with barricades and flares.

I told my partner, who guarded the compact while I casually strolled along the curbs, looking for the guy's head. Onlookers always want to talk to you (What happened? I smell gasoline. Is that woman dead?) so I had to dodge them. I also kept an eye on the reporters, who would decaptitate each other for a chance to get the head on film for all the next of kin to see.

Finally I found him, nested between weed clumps in someone's side yard, still neatly packed inside his largely intact helmet. I picked him up by the chin strap and tucked him, end-up so he wouldn't drip, under my arm. My jacket sleeve covered most of him. Then I casually walked back, nodded to my partner, and put the head in the back of our unit.

I never found out who the biker was. I can tell you that he was young, late twenties to early thirties. I don't know if he had children, but he wore a wedding ring. I didn't find out if he had indeed caused the accident. I didn't look at his face. By that time I had learned what I needed to carry away from the job, and what I needed to leave behind.

I don't have nightmares about him because, believe it or not, that's one of my good stories.

Working in writing and publishing remind me a lot of those days. They couldn't be more different, and yet in ways the jobs are remarkably similar. In this industry, you can be a rubbernecker, a glory hound, or a cop trying to control a scene that is uncontrollable. Or you can do your job, clean up what you can, and at the end of your shift, walk away.

Involvement

My editor called me the other day about the simple, dignified cover art I'd requested, and told me what they had in mind for the novel. Their idea is not simple, and judging by the description, probably not real dignified, either. Did I call that one right, or what?

The editor and the production people do want me to be happy about the cover art, but they also have to sell their product. Guess what takes priority. Also, I know I'm too close to this novel, in an over-protective, snarling mother tiger baring fangs sense. Pretty much nothing is going to make me happy. I told the editor this and asked her to do whatever they think is best.

That ends my involvement in the production of this novel.

I think authors should be included in the production process, because we know the novel better than anyone on the publishing side, but I also think there are times when we need to step to the sidelines. Not every author is comfortable with letting go like this, so this is a personal call.

I know this particular novel is one of the best books I've written. A lot of readers are waiting for it. Whatever ends up on the cover won't change what I wrote, or what they read. It might affect my new reader sales, it might not. Who can say? Either way, this time, I'm staying out of it.

Pitch Tools

To write your novel, you have to know the story. To sell the novel, you must condense that knowledge into a pitch. Novelists are generally not blessed by the Brevity Fairy, which is why book proposals and synopses are so universally despised.

There are techniques that help a writer organize novel info, summarize it and build a decent pitch. Practice using catch phrases, buzz words and other premise-makers to hone your pitching skills. Internet marketing author Joe Bingham has a good article about catch phrases here, and Bombshell author Carol Stephenson has one on romance buzz words here.

These are some writer exercises and examples I've used in classes and workshops to teach the art of less is more:

1. Write a classified ad selling your novel.

Dark hi-speed killride: Nightmares, get real in this standalone urban fantasy novel, 150,000 words, drifter female mechanic/mystic protag, present-day Chicago/otherworld settings, apocalyptic stakes. Seatbelts and safeties have been removed.

2. Make up a motto based on your novel theme.

Life isn't Death's bitch anymore

3. Describe your novel in 15 words or less.

Aggressive aquatic pilot/gunner guarding troubled peace summit must avert diplomatic assassination and interstellar war.

4. Write a personal ad for your hero or heroine.

Not Desperately Seeking Anyone: 35 y.o. swm, 6'5, 230 lbs., Fire Marshall of New Orleans, serious, GQ dresser, sometimes grim, hard worker, temporarily living at home with wealthy parents, tired of beautiful, empty-headed socialites. Chasing an arsonist/mass murderer who has vowed to kill everyone I love, so discretion a must. No cops.

5. Come up with a single hook line that describes the opening of your novel.

All I was trying to do when they caught me was bury my mother in an unmarked grave.

News

MM Viagra: Some folks in the industry plan to upsize paperbacks in order to boost dwindling mass market sales. Brava is already putting out their books in trade editions for $7.99 US; the books have larger fonts and are definitely easier to read. I'd go talk to those folks.

Deliver Us Not and Get Sued: Random House is taking legal action against rapper P. Diddy for failing to deliver the autobiography for which they paid him a $300,000.00 advance back in 1998. Diddy's deadline was in 1999. Suggestion: Maybe next time you should get him to submit a couple of chapters first, see if he can actually write?

Op3

Third session done, one or two more to go. I had to drive around for an hour before I went in to have the work done; calm the nerves, shake off the worst of the dread. I brought some wool and a hook with me, and that helped. Crochet is a great fear-management activity. I've been crocheting since I was five and unlike knitting, I don't have to look or count anymore, so it's kind of mindless. It relaxes everyone working on you, too. Much more so than when you use your nails to rip off the vinyl coverings on the arm supports.

It didn't hurt so much after this time. I think I'm healing better between sessions, or maybe I'm getting used to it. I love my doc, and I think he's done great work on me, but I'll be glad when we're through and I don't have to play good patient anymore. 'Cause I'm not.