Of books, and blogs, and media; of compasses, and things

Thanks to everyone who took the time to answer yesterday’s Idle Question.

From the Idle Question came two Rebound Questions, one having to do with the importance of blogging to a writer’s career (this was more of an assumption than a question, but I’m making it a question because I want to Say Something About That), and one asking what the blogger gets from blogging.

So, the assumption that one must blog or do some other sort of social media in order to be a writer is…a perception born of the frenetic age we live in, and the lack of willingness to accept that, in O So Very Many Ways, success as a writer is a crap shoot.

The Number One Thing that you need to do if you want to be in future, or are now, a writer is — WRITE.  Write, send out what you write, pay attention to your craft, write, study the markets sufficiently to insure that you don’t get cheated, write, and, ohbytheway, WRITE.

Everything else — everything else — is an extra.  You do not have to have — what was the magic number? — 1500? Facebook friends before you start in writing your novel.  You don’t need to set up Whatever or Boing-Boing and tend it for a decade before you write your novel.  All you  have to do is open up your word processor, turn to a clean sheet in your notebook, go outside with a nice thick chunk of tailor’s chalk in hand,  find a clean place on the sidewalk, or whatever else rings your bell — and start writing.

That’s it.  Personally, I think that starting a writing career by writing seriously (by which I mean with serious purpose and a goal) every day is hard enough without putting the burden of an active blog on the list, too.

Now, if you’re a sociable sort of person and you like to blog — then by all means go for it.  In fact, if you’re the sort of person who likes to blog, you’re probably doing it already.

Pro Tip:  People can tell if you like doing something.  If you like to blog — if it’s fun for you, regardless of any other input — then folks will read your blog and they’ll comment and feel comfy with you, and cheer you on in your endeavors.

Conversely, if you hate blogging and only force yourself to do in order to Build Your Brand?  People will pick up on that, too.

The same principle applies to doing book signings and going to conventions; tweeting and facebooking.  Do what you like, and what makes you happy; don’t do what you don’t like.  And for ghod’s sake, don’t just do things in order to Sell Books; that’s lame.  And pretty often it doesn’t work.

Second question!  Why do I blog; aka What’s In It For Me?

That’s easy; I’m a writer, and I like to tell stories.  I’m an introvert, but I like to interact with people.  Blogging lets me do both things — tell stories, and benefit from human interactions — without exhausting myself by having to physically be in a roomful of people, read all that body language, and protect myself.  Blogging lets me limit interaction, when I need to focus elsewhere; I can read and answer comments in my own good time.  For me, blogging is dern near the perfect medium of communication.

* * *

In other news — this is a long blog because you’re going to have to do without for a couple days; we have a buncha stuff on this week’s schedule — a while ago, I got interested in Doc Holliday, and ordered in a well-regarded biography (Doc Holliday, by Gary L. Roberts).  Now, I like biographies — they’re my Reading Matter of Choice when I’m actively writing fiction — and I’ve read a bunch of them, but I’ve gotta tell you — I’m going to give up on Doc’s book, here.

See, the primary reason I read biographies is to learn about people; their motivations; their movements; how they conformed to, or failed to conform to, the mores of their time — and I’m getting none of that with this book.  What I’m getting is the author’s speculation, a bunch of facts supported by newspaper reports and filed legal papers, and a review of the Civil War, as seen from Georgia and the Deep South.

Now, the author does say in his introduction that Doc left virtually no papers.  He had a lifelong correspondence with his first cousin, who had entered a convent, apparently because her religion had led her to refuse Doc’s hand in marriage (they were first cousins).  The cousin had saved the letters, but upon her death, a family member took it upon himself (I assume the masculine pronoun here) to burn them (pause for a group banging of heads on desks).  I can understand that it would therefore be difficult to piece together much about Doc’s private life.

While I applaud the author for getting a 400-plus-page book out of such flimsy stuff, that isn’t what I read biography for; if I want speculation, I read fiction.  So, Doc’s book goes back on the shelf.  Maybe I’ll find more patience with it, later.

* * *

Frequent readers of this blog will recall that I have some. . .Interesting Cognitive Quirks apparently brought into my life when the Good Sisters switched my primary hand from Left to Right.  In order, so my grandmother told me, to make my life easier.

I’ve been living with the effects of this for quite a number of years, naturally, and I thought I knew all the Funny Places, but yesterday I discovered another one.

Compass.

Have you ever seen one of these things?  A dial marked N-E-S-W with degrees between, and a needle in the middle, the red end magnetized so it will always point more-or-less North, no matter how you turn the dial?  Yes?  Holy bananas, what a brain-bender!

No, seriously.  You hold the thing in your hand so that the red pointer points North, and then, if you want to go, say, East, you squint along the dial and pick out a tree or a mailbox or something along that line and you walk to it?  This is how its supposed to work?  Phew.  Steve spent an hour, maybe more, but it’s not looking like a skill I’ll be — forget mastering — understanding any time soon.  I hope to Ghu I’m never lost on a mountain in Maine.

Or anywhere else where there aren’t street signs.

* * *

Y’all have a good Beginning Of A New Week.

* * *

Progress on One of Five
8,062/100,000 OR .81% complete

“Have I finally reached the captain of the pirate vessel Dutiful Passage?” The voice was high-pitched and clealy angry. Priscilla felt a jolt of her own anger.

“This is Captain Mendoza of the trade ship Dutiful Passage out of Surebleak,” she said coolly. “To whom am I speaking?”

“Retribution Officer Blix,” the angry voice snapped; “Law and Decency. In accordance with Chesselport Regulations 928A through 977M, pertaining to known pirates on-port, your vessel and its cargo are forfeit to this office; your officers and crew will be interrogated by this office, and those who are found guilty of piracy and related crimes will be placed in appropriate labor programs.”

 #SFWAPro

Saturday morning’s idle question

If you’re reader of this blog (by which I mean either Eagles Over the Kennebec, on LJ, or The Blog Without a Name, at sharonleewriter.com), you obviously read at least one author’s blog.

My question to you today is:  Why?

Why do you read writer’s blogs?

. . .and, Special Bonus Question:

Of the author blogs that you do read, which is your favorite — and why?

Have at it.

Autumn in New England

So, it’s pretty much been routine medical appointments and yoga, with a side order of cat juggling, over the last week.

On the topic of cat juggling, I worry about Mozart; he’s getting grumpier and more reclusive, but doesn’t seem to be in any pain. He’s just. . .a really old cat. The other day he hit Trooper in the head for no reason that my inferior human understanding could encompass — it looked to me like the kid got whacked for the sin of jumping up on the bed, and burbling in my direction.

Happily, Trooper is a sunny little person, and slow to take offense. He settled down where he was, to prove that he could, of course; that’s mandated in the manual.  After his point was made, he got up, head-butted Mozart gently, and jumped to the floor. I thought that was pretty classy, and apparently so did Mozart, who refrained from being offended.

This morning, was the second of three medical thingies.  After it was over, Steve and I motored on out to Fairfield to break our fasts at the Purple Cow.  Beyond the fact that we should have had the foresight to bring a friend to help us eat one breakfast between us all, I wish to state that New England chefs continue to Not Get biscuits and gravy.  Now, I know this, and you’d be perfectly justified in asking why I persist in ordering it.  The answer is that I haven’t, for many years, unless we were actually, yanno, in the South, where they know from biscuits and gravy, but this morning I just. . .fell off the wagon.  It was OK, for what it was, which was something other than biscuits and gravy, and there was far too much of it.  Also, the coffee was good.

So, anyway — one more medical appointment, on Monday, in Bangor, with a hammer — no, wait; wrong game. One more to complete the set, I say, on Monday, and between then and now, the weekend, during which I finally hope to convince the new book that we’re on the same side, and if it will only just trust me, I can, and will, help it.

Today, I’ve got to find our copy of A Night in the Lonesome October.  Because of the timing of the book tour, Steve and I are varying this year.  We’ll be starting the journey a couple days early, so we’ll finish up reading the night before we’re to leave, so the book can stay safely at home with Mary the house sitter, and the cats, and not be subjected to the Dangers of the Road.

. . .and I think we’re all caught up.  What’re you doing this weekend that’s fun and interesting?

 

For those who haven’t seen it elsewhere, here’s a picture of Trooper, waiting for me to get my yoga in gear.

The yogi is in Picture by Sharon Lee
The yogi is in
Photo by Sharon Lee

Lee and Miller Book Tour 2013!

Also known as The Next Stage in the Liaden Universe® World Tour*

AsyouknowBob, the nice folks at Baen are sending us on a small book tour in support of Trade Secret.  The tour is of the Upperish East Coast, starting on October 31 (that’s Halloween!) at Pandemonium Books, in Cambridge, MA, and finishing off on November 10 (hey! that’s the end of PhilCon!)

We now have the Full and Complete Itinerary of the tour, and have reproduced it below, for your convenience.  Please do plan on coming out to see us, if we happen to land at a bookstore (or a convention!) near you.  We love to meet our readers; heck we’ll even sign a book for you!

Thursday, October 31, 7-9 pm
Pandemonium Books and Games, 4 Pleasant Street, Cambridge MA

 Friday, November 1, 7-9 pm
The Toadstool Bookstore, 586 Nashua Street (Lorden Plaza), Milford NH

Saturday, November 2, 2-4 pm
Barnes and Noble, 98 Middlesex Turnpike, Burlington MA

Sunday, November 3, 1-4 pm
Annie’s Bookstop of Worcester, 65 James Street, Worcester MA

Monday, November 4, 7-9 pm
Barnes and Noble, 7 Holyoke Street, Holyoke MA

Tuesday, November 5, 7-9 pm
Flights of Fantasy, 381 Sand Creek Road, Albany NY

Wednesday, November 6, 7-9 pm
Book Trader of Hamilton, 2421 Nottingham Way, Mercerville NJ

Thursday, November 7 (be careful! there are two events today)

Noon-2 pm : 
University of Pennsylvania Bookstore, 3601 Walnut at 36th Street, Philadelphia

7-9 pm:
Chester County Book Company, 967 Paoli Pike, West Chester PA

Friday, November 8 — Sunday, November 10
PhilCon, Crowne Plaza Hotel, Cherry Hill, NJ     

__

*Note:  No, it’s not really a world tour; it’s just a lame joke that’s been amusing us since 1998.  It’s perfectly fine if it doesn’t amuse you, but please don’t feel compelled to tell me about how you’re not amused, OK?  It’s our not-really-a-world-tour and we can, and will, call it anything we like.  Thank you for your understanding.

 

#SFWAPro

In which the day started well

. . .but has gone downhill in stupid, annoying, and ultimately unimportant ways since.

Doncha hate when that happens?

So!  Allow me to briefly report that Surfside, Moon’s Honor, and Technical Details are now in the Smashwords catalog.  This is entirely due to the expertise and efficiency of Roseanne Girton, who did every bit of the work.

A note about these books:  They are published as ePubs only.  Also!  They, as all Pinbeam Books eChapbooks are DRM-FREE.  This means that they may be read on/with, if not All The Things, then very many of the things.  To wit, and according to Smashwords:  “Apple iPad/iBooks, Nook, Sony Reader, Kobo, and most e-reading apps including Stanza, Aldiko, Adobe Digital Editions, others.”

Kindle and Nook readers may of course find these eTitles, and the entire Pinbeam Books catalog at Amazon and BN, where they are also sold DRM-FREE.

In other news, I wrote some words yesterday, and if nothing catches on fire, I’ll write some more today.

Hope everybody’s having as good a Monday as practicable.

* * *

Progress on One of Five

5,020/100,000 OR 5.02% complete

“This is nice,” she said.

“It is,” he agreed. “Would you like some more wine?”

“Trying to get me drunk, spacer?”

“Certainly not.”

“I believe you.”

In which the excitement falters for a moment

Things have been happening.  I shall sum up.

Celebrations first!  I am slightly behind in congratulating my colleague Tim Akers on the tenth anniversary of his first professional sale.  In celebration, he’s giving away stories!  And critiques!  And — but go on over and congratulate him yourself.

* * *

In the way of celebrations — I am pleased to announce that Surfside and Moon’s Honor are now available at Smashwords. Technical Details ought to be available by the end of next week.

Regarding the above, please note!

The only flavor of file available from Smashwords, for Surfside, Moon’s Honor, and (coming soon) Technical Details is EPUB. This is because  converting into All! The! Formats! requires a specially-tuned .doc file that I am incapable of producing. (As a further note, I am also incapable of producing the EPUB files; those conversions have happened through the goodwill and expertise of Roseanne Girton, who, in addition to being proficient in these matters, is a saint.)

I do apologize to those folks who want to read their books in their special format, but that’s just not possible with these books, from where I’m sitting.  All of our eChapbooks are DRM-free and can be read on a variety of ereading apps (and your Nook).  Thank you for understanding.

* * *

Today’s mail brought several pleasant surprises, including a new bag that is Significantly Smaller than the red backpack, and which will hopefully curb my tendency to carry All The Things, All The Time.

Also in today’s mail was the last check from Audible Author Services.  This was a nice little program where authors were paid one thin dollar for everyone of their audiobooks purchased from Audible, via quarterly checks.  We’ve sold something over 7,000 audiobooks in the last year, which is nice to know for reasons other than those having to do with dollar bills, though of course dollar bills are very nice of themselves.

I’m going to miss this program.

* * *

On the outgoing side of the page, signed bookplates are speeding on the Wings of Eddie to Forbidden Planet in London.  Which reminds me to say that we received bookplates to sign, yesterday.

* * *

That gets us more or less caught up, I think. I did spend a good chunk of the week changing out my head, which isn’t really as much fun as you’d think.  The time involved made me even happier that I didn’t say, “Oh, sure, we’ll just write a Liaden novel in-between the two Carousel books”  — because omighod, whiplash.

On the other hand, if I hadn’t written two Carousel books back-to-back (and then two short stories based in the same universe), my head might not have gotten Quite. So. Stuck.  I don’t know how my colleagues who have several series going simultaneously do it, frankly.

All of which reminds me to say that…

I started writing a novel.

So!  How was your week?

* * *

Progress on One of Five

2,398/100,000 OR 2.4% complete

“Is there some trouble?” Luken asked her, and almost she sighed again. Such a sweet man, he couldn’t be any more attentive to her if she was paying him. The fact that she wasn’t paying him had the power to surprise her, as did the notion she held of him, as a friend.

But, there, she’d left the man without his answer, and she’d already seen what he was capable of, when he decided that something needed fixing.

So, she smiled at him, and shook her head.

“No trouble. More like I haven’t had enough breakfast to weigh me down to ground, yet.” She broke a roll onto her plate, and reached for the jam pot.

“What were you dreaming, then?” he asked, spoon arrested over his cereal bowl, his eyes on her face.

#SFWAPro

Wednesday afternoon cat (and owl) census

I’m sure everyone will be pleased to know that, despite the gorgeous weather outside, the cats are on the case.

Scrabble supervising me from /m/y  /M/o/z/a/r/t/'s HER rocker
Scrabble supervising me from /m/y
/M/o/z/a/r/t/’s HER rocker

 

Mozart, in the meantime, kept the owl under very close supervision in the living room.

A cat and his owl. And the sunspot.
A cat and his owl.
And the sunspot.

…while Trooper tried to rustle up a quick game of Chase the Mouse.

Psst!  Hey, lady!  Wanna throw a mouse for me?
Psst! Hey, lady! Wanna throw a mouse for me?

 

 

In which cranky author has questions

To put the questions in context…Back when Agent of Change was first published — by which I mean 1988 — publishers actively discouraged writers and their cover artists from speaking to each other.  It was felt, by the publishers, that writers weren’t artists, had no idea what image would sell a book; and would just confuse the artist if they started talking about what the characters looked like, or what the setting was, or what the most interesting scene in the book was.

The publisher had a marketing department and an art department to address these matters.  The Art Director gave instruction to the artist, who pretty often hadn’t read the book, but who worked off of either a synopsis of the scene the Art Director wanted, or who were provided with a portion of the book to give them a feel for the story and/or characters.  I think we’ve discussed the fact that Mr. Hickman was given exactly half of Agent of Change to work from — and he was one of the lucky ones.  As we were, when we got recognizable characters standing in a street we had described on the cover of our novel.

This was not, I repeat, the norm.

The prevailing thought at that point in publishing history was that what was on the cover of the book and what was inside the book really didn’t have that much to do with each other.  It was the art’s job to tell potential readers what kind of story was lurking between the covers.  By the late 1980s, covers were getting a little more representative of content, though still tilted toward SF’s perceived market — 14 year old boys.

Let me say here that we’ve been very fortunate in our covers over the years.  Starting with Mr. Hickman’s portrayal of a Big! Freaking! Turtle! and a woman in fighting leathers that were actually functional, pulling a gun that she seems to know how to use, with a scarf tied around her arm exactly as we had described it!  The male lead is possibly even golden-skinned, as described — it’s hard to tell in the underlighting.

There are a few of our covers that I’m not in love with, but, for the most part, characters we’ve described as brown — Meripen Vanglelauf, Jela, Shan, Nelirikk — or golden-skinned — Val Con (who also became Asian for a run of covers, that being the result of the authors talking to an artist who had been in Vietnam, and knew exactly what golden-skinned people looked like), Aelliana, Daav, Er Thom — or pale — Theo, Miri — have been painted as described.

Do the characters look exactly as I see them in my head?  No, of course not, though some renditions have come closer than others.

Do I expect the covers of our books to accurately reflect the characters as described?  Well, yes, within a range; after all, I wrote those descriptions for a reason.

When a cover falls outside that “range” is it a horrible cover?

Well, no…not necessarily.

Case in point:  The covers for the Carousel books.  I adore these covers, despite that I have no idea who the humans depicted are meant to be.  They’re great covers — dynamic and intriguing, and true in a way that mere accuracy can’t convey.  They’re covers that really ought to sell me some books.

So, with all that being said, here are my questions:

1.  Do you, as a reader, expect that cover art will accurately reflect the accompanying novel?

2.  Do you become upset when/if it turns out that the cover does not accurately represent:

2a. The main character

2b. The setting

2c.  The kind of story inside the covers

3.  In 2, above — which misrepresentation bothers you the most?  Why?

4.  If you are upset about inaccurate covers, how do you think change can be effected?

4a.  By writing to the author

4b. By writing to the publisher

4c. By boycotting authors and publishers who publish inaccurate covers

4d. Nothing will change, so why try?

5.  Other thoughts on the topic?  Tell me!

 

Low bridge; everbody down! Low bridge; we’re coming to a town!

I am pleased to report that I continue to be a sad trial to the staff at the local jewelry store’s repair counter.  Despite which, I now have a temporary magnetic clasp* on the full-moon necklace Steve gave me for my birthday and can therefore put it on and take it off my own self.

Today, I’ve made one needed phone call; have thus far successfully avoided making the second; printed out a contract, signed it and sealed it into its envelope, and taken a pair of jeans to the local seamstress to have them hemmed (I can’t remember the last time I had to have a pair of pants taken up.  It may actually have been Never.)

Still to do:  that vexed phone call, and a few fixes to “The Gift of Music,” so that it can be sent along to the editor.  Also, Steve and I worked out a short story over breakfast.  Mind you, we very much need to NOT be writing a short story at this particular moment in time, but…you take your fun when it comes, I guess.

For those who indulge, I took the challenge and answered The Usual Questions at Festivale.

A reminder for folks local to Waterville, Maine: Steve and I will be giving a talk tomorrow (Saturday, September 14) at 9:30 a.m. at the Waterville Public Library as part of the festivities attending Cirque du Geek.

And now, I guess I’d better make that blasted phone call.

———-

*Temporary because the goldsmith is on vacation and there is no one else in the store qualified to handle a soldering iron.  So the magnets are attached by rings, but the rings are only pinched shut, not soldered shut.  I’m directed to come back “in a week or two” to have the soldering done.

I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves/And satin sandals, and say we have no money for butter

My goodness; come back to the computer after a quick trip to Rockland, and find that the galaxy is wishing you happy birthday.

Thank you all, very much.

My birthday celebrations started yesterday. Thus are we all ruled by the availability of hotel rooms.  Or, actually, inn rooms.  Steve and I left early, had breakfast at the China Dinah, and proceeded to Camden, Maine.  I’ve (painfully)  driven through Camden many times, but yesterday was the first  time since we moved to Maine that we were able to park the car, and wander around downtown.  In summer, the place is up to the ears in tourist; but now we’re into After Season, when all but the hardiest — or the canniest — tourists have gone back Away and the native Mainers can play tourist in their own state.

If you’re ever in Camden, Maine, go to the Ironbound Gallery; they have beautiful things, including a brand-new carousel horse, hand-carved and painted.  She’d need a room to herself to do the work justice, but she was lovely to look at.

We signed books at Sherman’s, drifted in and out of shops, and galleries, stayed ‘way too long in the leather shop, just wallowing in the smell, bought — and ate! — butterscotch cookies as big as our heads, took a couple pictures, and eventually found the car again and motored down Route 1 to Rockland.

Here’s what Camden Harbor looked like on Tuesday, September 10, 2013:

Camden Harbor from Library Hill.  Photo by Sharon Lee
Camden Harbor from Library Hill.
Photo by Sharon Lee
Camden Harbor from the Public Landing
Camden Harbor from the Public Landing.
Photo by Sharon Lee

We had lunch in Rockland at Clan MacClaren, went ’round the corner to the Wine Seller, to pick up a bottle of Good Wine by Joe Pinot Noir, then checked into our room at the Captain Lindsey House.  I had never stayed at an inn and/or bed-and-breakfast, so this was a first.  Our room was Period, built in 1835 by one of the retired sea captains who were Maine’s principal citizens for many years.  Turkey carpets on the floor, a(n electric) fireplace, a four-poster queen bed, and a pretty little sitting area with wing chairs and a marble-topped table.

Foolishly, I did not take a picture of our room, but this is the door into Captain Lindsey’s House:

Captain Lindsey House, Rockland Maine. Photo by Sharon Lee
Captain Lindsey House,
Rockland Maine.
Photo by Sharon Lee

Later in the evening, we walked out for dinner at the Rustica.  I had the pork; Steve had the cavatelli, and we were both well-pleased.

This morning, after breakfast served by mine host, we walked down to the Rockland Ferry Landing, then uptown, shopping as we went.  When we were shopped out, we came home the long way, stopping in Brunswick at The Great Impasta for lunch (why, yes, I did have two Italian meals in two days.  Your point?)

For my birthday, Steve got me a very nice bottle opener.

Also, the moon:

Astronomically correct moon, sterling silver, from Saturn 5 Studio.
Astronomically correct moon, sterling silver, from Saturn 5 Studio.

Now, we’re home, and have made peace with the cats.  Tomorrow, I have some errands to run in town, including seeing if the local jeweler can put a magnetic clasp on my new necklace.  Then, I have a story to go over one more time so it can be sent off to the editor.

Again — thanks to everyone for the well-wishes; they’re much appreciated.