Friday, April 29, 2005

Note from Alfred

Dear Writer Comrades, Curious Visitors, Loitering Jackals,
Commissioner Gordon, Friends,

She Who Plainly Doesn't Pay Me Enough has sent me to make her excuses. Again.

It seems that Madam has once again ensconced herself in the central command center. Doors have been bolted, computers networked, voice recognition engaged, weapons readied, the Hubble realigned, threats issued, the usual nonsense. The media has been alerted and SWAT remains on standby.

All this, to write. One must be grateful her career path did not take a turn toward something more immediate, such as platoon manuevering or rocket launching.

The final words which Madam uttered before she decamped were rather cryptic; something about Phillip the Fair, DNA resequencing, William de Nogaret, and Cheshire. Make what you will of it. I have relocated to the kitchen, where I can provide sympathy for her life partner, nourishment for her children, and concealment of the carbon steel knives.

I expect my employer will return on Monday, once creative calamity returns to mere chaos, or her supply of green tea runs out, whichever comes first.

Yours Faithfully,
Alfred

Thursday, April 28, 2005

Thank You, Jim

I needed a reason to tear someone's head off, and some moron introducing legislation to ban authors because they're gay, or write about gay characters works for me.

For the record, books that I've written as Jessica Hall and S.L. Viehl would be included in this ban, because gay characters do populate some of them. You know. Just like the real world. Real life.

You can thank James R. Winter of Northcoast Exile for flagging this one.

Lost

A few weeks ago we found a house we were interested in buying (we're leasing this one for a year to give us time to look around.) It wasn't perfect (smallish bathrooms) but it was the right size, in a good neighborhood, and in our price range. Pretty property, scrupulously maintained. Everything said buy me.

We've been looking at houses every week for months, so I didn't get my hopes up but made the appointment to go see the place. The owners were an older European couple who were a delight to meet, and we quickly discovered that their home was their pride and joy.

Gorgeous place. Immaculate. A kitchen in which I could do some serious cooking. Big rooms, wonderful gardens, custom architectural features, the works. A little formal for us -- we're more country than town -- but not enough to make us uneasy. The bathrooms were on the small side, but we saw possibilities in future renovation. In my head, I began arranging my furniture in the rooms, painting my terrible watercolors on the lanai, and watching my kids run around the yard, and I loved what I saw.

If we didn't get this house, it wouldn't break my heart. I've lived a gypsy's life and I don't let myself get attached to real estate. Still, I suspected losing this house would give me a bigass bruise.

We don't make snap decisions, but that night we decided once and for all that the house was the house. For us, that's lightspeed. We did a market analysis, saw that the owners were on the high side with their asking price, and debated our offer. We ran the numbers every way but upside down. We consulted with our agent. We looked at everything else we'd been considering. Finally we decided on our offer and went to the agent to make it.

Sometime during the 72 hours we took to put together our offer, the owners took the house off the market. They decided they loved it too much to sell it. And, weirdly, we were happy for them. It's a great house, but it's also a home.

Now I have to get back on the MLS and find one for us.

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Blog Blitz

The only reason I'd go to Scotland -- other than that fun thing I talked about doing with select explosive ordnance at WorldCon -- would be to hang out at Stuart MacBride's way-fancy-sounding launch for his novel, Cold Granite. Free food, right?

Then there's the recent facial injury. How many writers do you know who could carry off that eye patch? With that accent? (You pregnant ladies and other easily-queased folks might want to skip his April 22nd entry or risk bidding your Wheaties adieu.)

I'd go, but unfortunately they won't let me out of the country. Cause one measly little international incident, get your passport yanked by the State Department. I still think the French over-reacted. My shoes almost matched my purse.

Anyway, since most of us Yanks can't crash the lad's launch, I say we go over and have a comment party on his weblog while he's gone. Enough of us show up, he'll think he's been BlogSPAMmed. We could even pretend to be SPAMmers and really mess with him.

Seriously, a novel launch is a wonderful and terrifying thing. If you do have a minute, stop by Halfhead and wish him luck.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

BlogLife

I like watching the blog memes that make the rounds. Most are fun, creative, and good conversation starters. Like horoscopes, the ones that try to predict or pigeonhole your future shouldn't be taken too seriously. Remember the What Kind of Novel Should I Write quiz? I took that one to see how it labeled me. The site crashed.

While tracking memes, I watch other types of posts and patterns of posts. Blogs seem to go through the same stages some romantic relationships do. In the beginning, it's all new and wonderful. There's experimentation and a lot of expression. Then things begin to settle down into a comfortable routine. If something sets one off, one can indulge in a rant but later apologize for it.

Some boredom follows. How many times have you seen "I don't feel like posting" posts? That's the blog version of "Honey, I have a headache." Some of the charm of blogging wears off, so this is where memes become very popular. But you can only do so many memes, and gradually days pass by without any posting.

Days turn into weeks. A sudden, guilty "I haven't posted in a month, two months, six months" post pops up. That spurs some half-hearted efforts to keep it going, but it's never the same as it was. Eventually stagnation sets in, then disinterest, and the blog goes static or disappears.

Keeping the blog alive, fresh, and interesting is a challenge for everyone. Some ideas on how to spruce up your netspace:

1. Be curious. Go bloghopping, see what others are discussing. Rather than comment on another blog, take the subject back to your own and post your opinions (linking back to the source is standard blog etiquette.)

2. Surf some blog monitoring sites, like Intelliseek's Blogpulse.com, which offers a search engine and up-to-date info on the most popular blogs, links, topics and people out there.

3. Don't make it all about you. People who only blog about themselves and nothing else seem to run out of steam faster than other bloggers.

4. Incorporate a little humor into your blog. Deadly serious blogs are generally deadly boring ones. Lighten up.

5. You've heard that if you want to seriously rant, you should write the rant but wait 24 hours before you post it. Why not do that with all your posts? Most of what I write on PBW is posted as a draft 24 to 48 hours in advance.

6. Stock up on spare entries. Write and save drafts of posts for days when you don't feel like posting.

7. Ask your readers what they'd like you to post. Tell Mom in advance that you're not going to write about how much you adore the purple sequined beaded lampshade your Aunt Frances sent you for your birthday.

8. Take what you dish out. It's easy to joke about other people, but it gradually comes off mean-spirited if you don't poke a little fun at yourself now and then.

9. Be honest. If you're censoring yourself to the point of where you only post nice happy posts, then you're boring us and yourself.

10. If you don't have something to talk about, offer links to other interesting sites. I never feel like posting on Mondays, which is why it became Ten Things Day around here.

Monday, April 25, 2005

Sold

Four devotionals (writing as Rebecca Kelly); three slotted for a 2006 pub, one bought to be held in reserve for future use. The latter is a nice compliment; devotional editors usually buy only what they need. This is the last of the inspirational work I had out there, so now I have to decide what I want to do next.

Worrying Ten

Ten Things That Worry Me

1. Ted DeCorte's 200+ Ideas to Market Yourself and Your Books -- know someone who's tried 199 of these? Yeah, me too.

2. Planned Television Arts -- the front page quote: Rick and the gang at PTA can get bookings out of a rock. Who's the gang? Is the rock okay?

3. A.S. Hatch's 2003 promotional Buy my book, charter Gen. Patton's Yacht campaign -- for buying one book? And you'd trust them with it?

4. Carolyn Howard-Johnson's The Frugal Book Promoter:
How to do What Your Publisher Won’t
-- you mean things like, pay me on time, spell my characters' names right in the copy, stop putting transvestite cetaceans on my covers . . . if that's in the index, I'm buying this baby.

5. LexiKhan by thebeefboy.com -- Beefboy. Right.

6. Pamela Anderson's "Stacked" Blog -- Hey . . . OK . . . Hey . . .
Ok . . . teehee. Christ.

7. Should I Publish with AuthorHouse, iUniverse or Xlibris? -- Can I introduce you to Pam?

8. 1001 Ways to Market Your Books -- If you want to sell 85,000,000 books like we have, read and use this book. — Mark Victor Hanson and Jack Canfield, New York Times bestselling authors of Chicken Soup for the Soul, who are obviously not worried about burning in hell for eternity.

9. Yet Another Disappointing Books Thread -- misery loves company with whom to share the whine.

10. Publish and be Damned -- Probably.

Sunday, April 24, 2005

More Branding

I'm an advocate of authors branding themselves and their weblogs as well as their novels. Put away the white-hot irons; it doesn't have to be that painful. Making yourself easier for anyone to remember just requires some creative thinking.

Take PBW. Short for Paperback Writer. Now, raise your hands if you know my real name* (uh-uh-uh, no Googling.) I also write under seven other names. Without my bibliography, are you going to remember all of them, how to spell them, and which I use for what genre? Hardly.

PBW, on the other hand, is short, easy to type, and makes an immediate connection to me and the weblog. It's like PW. It's like PB&J. People remember it.

Acronyms aren't the only way to brand yourself. A short, unusual or striking name, nickname, pseudonym or blog name tends to stick better than those which are long, ordinary, or forgettable. Good examples:

1. BestSF -- Mark Watson's SF review site. The name is very simple and says it all in six letters.

2. BookAngst101 -- An anonymous industry pro who goes by the handle Mad Max Perkins and writes about publishing, marketing, and how to handle both.

3. Bookninja -- maintained by the never silent but evidently ever-lethal Peter Darbyshire, Kathryn Kuitenbrouwer, and George Murray.

4. Fark -- Bet you can guess what F word Drew Curtis was really thinking of when he named his site.

5. Galleycat -- edited by Nathalie Chica, who is also Cup of Chica.

6. His Nibs -- weblog of Norman Haase, owner of His Nibs, online source for unusual fountain pens as well as fine writing instruments and pen supplies.

7. Pullquote -- operated by Cinetrix; there's a double-brander for you.

8. Slashdot -- originated by Rob Malda; now owned by Open Source Technology Group.

9. Snarkywood -- written by some ladies named Martha, Lauren and Amy.

10. Tamboblog -- website of author Tamara Siler Jones, whose signature nickname is Tambo.

Other online resources for branding info:

Julie Andersen's article The Importance of Branding Yourself in a Niche Market.

Tim Bete's article Eight Ways to Promote Your Writing Online talks about online branding.

Tom Brosnahan's article Author as Brand Name.

A Single Southern Guy Across America discusses blog name branding and evolution when he was just A Single Southern Guy in America.

*It's Sheila Lynn Kelly. This week, anyway.

Hyperluminescence

I've been having a writing rush tonight. I don't usually do this, but the muse got tickled and I thought I'd knock out a few pages.

I started typing around 9 p.m. tonight last night. You know the kind of word rush that starts hot, finds more fuel somewhere and then goes nuclear on you? That kicked in about 9:30 pm. You can't type fast enough to keep up with the flow, and your mind is three pages ahead already, and you're forgetting to do things like blink and exhale because oxygen is not as vital as capturing what you see and hear in your head. Writing like you're swinging a sledgehammer --

I lost a lot of you at nuclear, didn't I? And the sledgehammer thing is a little disturbing. Sorry. It's hard to describe.

I love these rushes, though. If I am ever like water, it's when the words are flowing like this. I know I'll have to do some buffing and polishing tomorrow, or once my hands stop smoking, but the words felt right as they hit the page, if that makes any sense.

What bugs me is that I have no idea what sets off a rush. I don't think I did anything. I quilted a little this morning. We looked at a house that we really liked. Great kitchen; I could cook for a small army in it. I wrote my daily quota, did some weeding. Took the kids to a pool party and the man out to lunch. I'm pretty sure it wasn't the cobb salad.

Tonight I could stand on the roof and shout, Look at me, I'm a writer! Tomorrow I'll probably wrestle with every paragraph that hits the screen, end up way under quota and think, Look at me, I went to bed at 1:41 am last night.

Saturday, April 23, 2005

Photo No-Nos

Ten Things Not To Do in Your Author Photo

1. Show your back teeth. All of them.

Only Muppets smile like that. Stop it.

2. Tilt your head to one side.

You don't look playful or adorable. You look cockeyed.

3. Wear your hair "mussed."

What, you can spend two hundred bucks on this head shot but you can't afford a brush?

4. Present your profile.

One word: rhinoplasty.

5. Sit at a desk, bent over, intent at work.

We know what you do for a living. Skip the charades.

6. Offer a brooding, serious expression.

Try Correctol for gentle, overnight relief.

7. Wear sunglasses.

Are they like mirrored on the inside?

8. Gaze at some elevated point in the distance.

Sorry, but the aliens simply aren't coming.

9. Rest any part of your face against your hand.

We know you're hiding a big honking zit.

10. Fold your arms and lean against a wall.

Step One: Admit you are powerless over alcohol - that your life has become unmanageable. Step Two . . .

Friday, April 22, 2005

Dilemma

I have sales data that might help other writers who are wondering how many copies you have to sell in order to crack the USAT BSL. I'd also like to post it here on the weblog, but if I do doubtless someone will accuse me of bragging again.

I'm trying to be more sensitive to the easily p.o.'ed, but I'd also like to make this info available to interested parties whose egos can withstand the pain.

Any suggestions? E-mail, maybe?

Update: Thanks for the suggestions and e-mails. To respond to some dismayed folks, I'm not attempting to bully other pros into releasing their sales data. Remember what your mother told you: If PBW jumps off a cliff, it doesn't mean you have to.

Seriously, I think pros need to be more candid about the reality of the business. Sell-through is huge part of that reality. Aren't you all sick of being told one thing and finding out the truth is different? If you put the facts out there, people won't be making career decisions based on rumors that their pals in MWA, RWA or SFWA told them.

Anyway, to continue my sensitivity streak and to keep both sides happy, I'll send the info to any interested party via e-mail. Please send your request with a subject line of "Numbers" to LynnViehl@aol.com.

Lost

I've talked about how giving your novel a title is a form of branding, because once the book is published, you'll forever be known as the author of [insert title]. It's also the primary promo for your novel, especially if it's a catchy or interesting title.

I presently have a novel I need to retitle before I send out the proposal. The original title is good, but circumstances beyond my control have just rendered it unusable. I can think of more titles I wouldn't give it than one that works, which made me think of how many titles I must have sent over the years to the Lost Library.

I created the Lost Library when my 7th grade English teacher threw away the only copy of a short novel I had written and shown to him (and for which I have still not forgiven him, the jerk.) The only way I could console myself was by make-believing that my book had been whisked off by magic means to a mysterious place where all lost writing goes. Silly, yeah, but I was thirteen and traumatized. I think I also still believed in Santa Claus.

The Lost Library has taken plenty more of donations from me over the years. Writing I misplaced, writing I threw out, tore up, burned, rewrote, lined through and on one memorable occasion, balled up and threw into the ocean. The last one seems very romantic, but I should mention that if you're doing this from the shore it does float back almost right away. Do it from a boat.

Who would work at the Lost Library? A nice lady librarian, of course. The one whose name you could never remember when you were a kid. She'd sit at the front counter while she uses white-out to erase all the catalog cards for new arrivals.

Whole book manuscripts would be shelved, short stories stuck in magazine racks, and in between all those sets of encyclopedias that computer CDs made obsolete, crumpled-up note pad pages being flattened out like flowers you press between the pages of a Bible. Title ideas maybe printed on ribbons and wound up in balls and left on the floor for the lady librarian's cat to play with. She'd have to have a great cat.

There would have to be a special bin for lost shopping lists, Christmas lists, and to-do lists. Poems would hang from mobiles; paper castles in the air. Somewhere in the back corner shelves of the nonfiction section, shoe boxes filled with the love letters that I never mailed and the journals that I've destroyed. Computers to store all the e-mails I've deleted. A few folders of sad song lyrics (I could never come up with a happy one.) Posters printed with the names I chose not to give my children.

I can do this all night, you know.

You can't check out anything from the Lost Library, but on rare occasions the nice lady librarian whose name we will never remember sends them back. Today while I was digging through a business file I found the only copy of a longish short story I wrote seventeen years ago. Maybe the Lost librarian sent it back because her magazine rack got too crowded, or it was something worth finding again.

Thursday, April 21, 2005

Oprah Dear

M.J. Rose has signed on with the authors who have sent an open letter to television's Oprah Winfrey, entreating her to bring back her show's bestseller-making book club.

We genre writers should do something like this. I'm thinking a postcard:

Hi O,

Love your show. Want to be on it.
Know much indy dirt. Have funny
Drag Queen Flipper tail tale.
Can pass as lit writer w/low lighting
& wardrobe aid. Wish you were here.

PBW

Whatyaknow

I didn't realize that you can buy software now that edits your novel for you until this morning, when I was cruising around for editing linkage. Next thing you know we'll have software that handles brain surgery. No, don't tell me if there is already.

While I was looking for articles and info on editing a novel, I was deluged by commercial sites run by editors for hire and writers turned book doctors. Some of them charge $25 a page, can you believe that? And no one is indicting these people? Evidently there are many mysterious but stunningly effective processes involved because they're very tight-lipped about their editing superpowers.

Some things on editing for which you don't have to pay $25 a pop:

Common Proofreading Symbols

Judy Cullins's How to Edit Your Articles as You Write -- this is about articles, but she makes some good suggestions on what to look for that can also apply to novels

Jennifer Joseph's A Few Tips on Editing a Novel

Crawford Kilian's advice on editing

Holly Lisle's One-Pass Manuscript Revision: From First Draft to Last in One Cycle

Nanoedmo

Ray Rhamey is not tight-lipped about his editing methods, but shows how he uses them on his weblog Flogging the Quill. Ray will also do some free editing in return for permission to post your work as an example.

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Novel VII: Edit

When I first started writing novels, I didn't edit them. I just wrote, and whatever hit the page seemed so wonderful to me that I wouldn't touch it. Having to use white-out on my typed pages may have contributed; I can't stand the smell of the stuff. But I was also a kid, and like all kids I was too wrapped up in the wonder of creating my little gems to consider polishing them.

I've had no formal education as a writer, so reading other writers' books was the way that I learned my work wasn't anywhere near professional quality. Through comparisons, I began to see where I was dropping the ball, and how I could do it differently. Happily I never got into the habit of sporadic, free-for-all editing during the writing process. I would write something, and only when it was finished would I mess with it.

I believe editing styles and methods can be as individual as the writing side of things. I am also not a believer in endless editing; I think it can lead to way too much second-guessing and getting caught in rewriting loops. So the usual disclaimer: of what follows, try it to see if it works for you; if it doesn't, try something else.

The first part of my editing process is what I mentioned during the writing phase: each evening I do a light edit on the new material I've written that day. This is very quick, one-shot editing. I read through the work on screen, and make word, phrase and placement changes as I go along. Mentally I'm still in the writing mindset: I'm not hating the work, or myself, or poisoning everything with doubt; I'm just cleaning it up.

I do a final spelling and grammar check, make those changes, save the edited file, and I'm done. I won't read or edit that portion of the book again until the entire novel is finished. Yes, this takes a certain amount of self-discipline and the temptation to back read and re-edit is always there. Some people enjoy doing that; it seems to serve as a reassurance to them. I'm too impatient to keep doing things over; I want to reach the finish line.

Once I've written a complete first draft of a novel, as with polishing a proposal, I try to put a little time and distance between me and the manuscript. Six months away from it would be ideal, but I don't have that luxury anymore. Generally I take two or three days off from working on it. When I'm ready, I print out a hard copy of the manuscript, grab a highlighter and a red ink pen, find a quiet, comfortable spot, and start the final read-through and edit phase.

I read through the manuscript one time, using the highlighter as I go to slash words, sentences, paragraphs and whole pages. I highlight typos, grammatical errors, repeated words, poor word choices, things I find myself skimming through versus reading, and things that for whatever reason don't hit me the right way. I also look at things more intangible -- am I getting too wordy, not wordy enough, how's my flow, have I been consistent, is my voice in this genre coming through, that sort of thing.

This is the stage when I finally let myself get emotional about the work. I release my internal editor, and take it from me, that bitch is nasty, demanding, and merciless. She decides if I've captured my vision of this story. She jumps on my trouble areas (writing description and emotion give me the most trouble, and I know I tend to skimp or skip in both areas, so my internal editor looks for that.) If she hates something, I slash it with the highlighter. If she really hates something, I line through it with the red pen.

When the internal editor and I are done the first pass, she goes away and I take a break for at least twelve hours. I shift back into writer mode, and think about the major changes and how I want to handle them. I kick myself a few times, and then I let it go. I do try to learn something from each edit -- as in, how can I avoid that problem with the next book I write?

When I go back to the manuscript, I start correcting things. Small corrections I make on the page, major changes I'll rewrite from scratch. I do this mainly on the hard copy, but I will type up large sections of revised work on the computer and clip the new pages to the old ones.

When the hard copy corrections are complete, I do a type-in to revise the manuscript file, print that out, and do a final read-through. I used to do this on the computer, but I wear trifocals now and paper is a bit easier on my eyes. The final read-through is just for typos or errors the revisions may have caused, so this one is light, like my daily new material edit.

When the final read-through is finished, I do the last type-in, print out the novel manuscript, and box it up to ship it out.

Elimination

I'm putting together some titles and ideas for the guest column I'll be writing for RTB. Here's the discard list:

Piss on the Book of Your Heart -- too insensitive

Chicks with Dicks -- inadvertantly insults the transgendering

Egging the Hen Parties -- fun but mean

What Are You, Twelve? -- so many editors are these days

If You Want Everyone to Like You, Get a Job Delivering Flowers -- too long

Why PAN Was the God of Sheep -- just don't even go there

I Got Your HEA Right Here -- can't find a way to work in the crotch grab

No worries, I'll keep at it.

Reality Revisions

It really doesn't help when the cardinals in Rome elect a pope whose life story matches that of the major bad guy in your novel.

F's

Fear. Frustration. Failure. These three F's are the kudzu on the path to publication.

Fears like TFIA (The Futility of It All.) One version of this syndrome starts with a general dissatisfaction with the work. That becomes an itching, annoying rash of suspicion. Nothing worthwhile is hitting the page, therefore, nothing will.

TFIA continues to work its magic until all the work, no matter how bad or good it actually is, resembles low grade manure. Other forms of TFIA include Rejection Depression, Lack of Recognition Rage, and No-Contract-Deal Damages. We have to take the blame for TFIA, guys, because we give it to ourselves.

Writers who survive TFIA face the second F, frustration. A working writer is still a scared writer, but also one who quickly loses control of many things. It's not just you and the computer and the mailman anymore. No, it's you and editors, contracts, revisions, cover art and copy, copy-edits, galleys, print runs, marketing, advance buzz, print runout, distribution, shelf positioning, release dates, sell-through, chains ordering to the net, etc.

That's just one book, and anything can go wrong with any or all of the above. Anything. Guess how much control the writer has over that? Little to none. Guess who gets blamed if anything does go wrong? Hint: whose name is on the book?

Which takes us to the third F, failure. Thanks to fear, frustration and a couple of other effing factors, all writers fail sometime during their career. For aspiring writers, it's having the work rejected so often that you decide the book will never sell, and shelve it.

For rookie authors, it's being paralyzed by publication, or worse, not being paralyzed by it. I've compared my rookie year to being like Betty Crocker in the court of Caligula. That's the nice analogy.

Further along in the career there's lousy numbers quicksand, aka future deal killer. A thousand other factors completely beyond your control -- your genre tanks, your agent walks, your imprint folds, your editor goes into a twelve-step program -- are eagerly waiting in the wings to help to wreck things for you. Guess again who gets blamed? Well, if the failure is large enough, they sure don't fire your editor.

Don't be depressed by the three F's. If you're a writer, chances are you are one of the most stubborn, contrary, mule-headed people on the planet. Most of us seem to come prewired that way. That's a strength, and that's what got me through my F's. That, creative denial, devout hermitage, frequently resorting to Zen revenge*, and never making the same mistake more than, say, four or five times.

Hunting around the net for alternatives, I found Tenali's four C's approach to fear management and methods to transform failure into success. He's got good ideas on adjusting your focus and learning from the missteps.

There's this problem with kudzu: it always grows back. Same with the three Fs. Hide from them, pretend they're not there, and you'll be up to your ears in them in no time. Fight them, cut them down, stomp them into the dirt, and refuse to let them take over your road, and they'll never grow back large enough to strangle you.

*Zen revenge: Do something nice or helpful for someone you like, then do something nice or helpful for someone you don't.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Buy Me

Bella Stander's article* Book Promotion 101 comes across with a definite edge to it, as if she meant to subtitle it 25 Things You'd Better Do For Your Signing, You Twit, Or Else. Been burned a few times, I guess.

I'd never spoken in public before I was published, and I was terrified at the prospect. To combat my cowardice, I went to Poetry Open Mike night at B&N for a couple of months. Getting up in front of strangers and reading my really personal stuff banished most of my stage fright. I'll never be comfortable with public speaking, though. The whole time I'm talking, I'm thinking, the hem of my dress is stuck in the waistband of my pantyhose or did I do a spinach check on my teeth after dinner?

I think most authors do a fair job with booksignings, but few are stellar at it. Neil Gaiman is, of course, but you probably have to go through TicketMaster now to attend his signings. Mystery author Laurien Berenson does a nice, classy job with hers (and you can talk about dogs with her and her eyes don't glaze over.) Janet Evanovich is funny, and reads well, but like Neil's her signings are generally swamped.

If you're looking for a public appearance role model, go no further than Marcia King-Gamble. Marcia is a tall, gorgeous romance author who has the elegance and fashion sense of a supermodel. Unlike most of us, she looks better than her author photos. Along with the presence, Marcia knows how to put anyone at ease. She might be sitting at a rickety card table outside a B. Dalton, but talk to her for two minutes and you'll swear you're in a sidewalk cafe in Paris. A lot of Raven in The Steel Caress was me dealing with my Marcia-envy.

Who do you think gives great booksignings?

(*link filched from Southern Comfort.)

Monday, April 18, 2005

Your Turn

I've turned on comments. You can thank Alison Kent, Kate Rothwell, and Shannon Stacey for convincing me to give it a whirl (Shannon and Kate used blog blackmail.)

I've only disabled comments for one archived post because of the amount of hate-monger mail it generated. Sheer laziness; I don't feel like reading it again.

Everything else? Have at it.