Friday, 25 April 2008

End of an Era - Day 4 - Hazelnut Day

Hazelnut Day, also known as 'my-absolute-most-favouritest-day-of-the-week,' seemed to come and go without a hitch. I was worried about Utnu and Second Cup, but so busy at work I barely had a thought to myself anyhow.

That evening, since it had been a relatively good day and the week was coming to a close, I decided I would bake cookies. I stole chocolate chips from my good friend who had foolishly left me with her apartment keys (I am ruthless), I bought random baking stuff at the convenience store, threw on some rock and roll tunes (regardless of twirling danger - am rebel), and began baking.

Now, everything was dandy until my second batch was in the oven and I noticed that a plastic lid was on top of my 'this is where the oven farts hot gas' element. I grabbed the lid, and strings of melted plastic followed. I sighed and threw it in the sink.

A big drop of melted plastic now adorned my element, and I thought it would smell very bad when, forgetting it was there (which I would), I would turn on the element (probably this very night). I put on my oven mitt and pulled off the element, with the intention of putting it in the sink before the plastic fully hardened. Now, let's recall that element was warm enough to melt plastic.

It also happened to be warm enough to set my oven mitt on fire.

Thanks to my experience with flaming tabbies, the fire was quickly put out, but in the process, I threw my element, melted plastic and all, in the cold water of my sink. It made some really funky noises and the plastic is now bonded to it like skin to bone.

Sigh.

I was, however, pleased to report that I didn't actually burn myself until, with the same oven mitt (still smoking), I took out my cookie sheet (burnt cookies by then). They don't kid around when they say oven mitts don't work as well once they've burnt. I didn't drop the cookies though, so I'm pretty pleased with myself.

I didn't tell my mom about this incident, as she is a good woman and I didn't feel she needed to know this was part of her legacy on Earth.

... well, ok, this didn't really have anything to do with the end of an era, but I was pretty brain dead by then, and I thought it was funny. Besides, a girl can only handle so much coffee and Utnu-related drama in one week, really.

But wait until Butter Pecan Day. Everything changed on Butter Pecan Day.

Thursday, 24 April 2008

End of an Era - Day 3 - French Vanilla Day

With Utnu's diseased brain, I had missed a whole day at Second Cup, neglecting my coffee people (very uncouth). This morning I came in Utnu-less, but determined to get some quality coffee and letter writing time.

I asked D. what he wanted today, and he said a coffee. I told him it was Irish Cream day and he seemed pleased to hear that.

I merrily strolled in, and my coffee people threw their hands up in joy (one day missed is very rare for me. I am a coffee-addict). I felt like the prodigal son (except instead of being a moocher, their business depended on me. I’d be happy to see me too if my RRSPs and children’s education funds depended almost exclusively on my caffeine guzzling habit, but I digress. I digress a lot, apparently.)

I walk up to the counter, grin widely, and ask for two medium Irish Creams.

I look down.

Eyes grow wide.

“Oh, it’s French Vanilla today?”

“Miss …”

Oh no! I won’t be Miss’d today! I beat him to the punch.

“But it’s Tuesday!”

“Miss…”

Start panicking and remembering week (remember, it was a long week. The end of an era, in fact!)

“No, wait, it’s Thursday!”

“Miss …”

“No! Wednesday! It IS French Vanilla Day!”

Second Cup guy throws hands up as if in deliverance and shouts: “Thank you!”

I was then scolded for not coming in yesterday, as I was obviously losing track of time without their carefully crafted time-keeping system. If I came every day again, they informed me, I would once again grasp and be soothed by it.

I have my doubts.

But it’s nice to be missed.

End of an Era - Day 2 - Irish Cream Day

I'm always suspicious of Irish Cream Days. I don't know if it's my brain that doesn't quite get enough of a boost from this particular blend, but usually I'm at my very slowest. Which is very slow, I must say.

But, although my Second Cup lingered near renovation closing-time (it's like a coma in people terms), I didn't make it in on that Irish Cream Day, since Utnu had been having difficulties lately. (Utnu being my beloved iBook G4 and my bestest writing buddy ever.) Anyways, instead of going to Second Cup and facing Irish Cream Day, I called Utnu's warranty people.

The conversation went something like this (CR = customer representative):

Me (calm) : "Yes, he's not been booting since yesterday."
CR (confused) : "He?"
Me (embarrassed) : "Um, yes. I have a strong affinity with him."
CR (redefining reality) : "Ok. So it, um, he doesn't boot?"
Me (worrying) : "No. He screams."
CR (polite but difficulty adapting) : "Screams?"
Me (wishing didn't feel Utnu was own person) : "Um, yes. Well, he beeps three times. Yes. And he has kernel panics."
CR (back in realm of comfortable language) : "Those aren't good."
Me (too much information?) : "No, because when he panics, I panic. It's really not a good scene."
CR (good old scout try) : "Oh. Yes. I can see that. Well, ok, well, ship um, him in, and um, he'll see a, um, doctor. Yes. A laptop doctor."

So Utnu went on a little trip, and we didn't get to spend this last week at Second Cup together, which only made things that much more difficult. Of course, then Canada Post lost Utnu, my friends vowed to head out in throngs (ok, more like a small gang - I don't have that many Utnu-hunting friends), but he was found again, and repaired, even though I called regularly for Utnu updates and got to know the CR very well (always got the same one, who also came to call Utnu by his name). I also debated sending Utnu flowers (care of his rep, of course) but, thanks to a rare appearance from my censor, didn't do it.

Utnu took three weeks to return. We're inseparable again.

After that day, though, I learned that it doesn't matter whether or not I'm actually drinking Irish Cream on that day. Irish Cream Day is still Irish Cream Day. (A moral for the ages.)

Sunday, 20 April 2008

End of an Era - Day 1 - Caramelo Day

It’s been a rough few months and, although I have wonderful friends who supported me through all the hardships, it’s still a bit hard to talk about it. But a girl’s gotta get things off of her chest, and now’s as good a time as any.

It all began in November. The beginning of November, actually. I arrived early to Second Cup, as usual, and saw D hanging outside. D is the local enterprising panhandler, who always greets me with a smile and kind word. But today his eyes didn’t have their usual spark, and the second he saw me crossing the street and walking towards him, he shook his head and shouted in warning: “It’s bad!”

The greeting I was about to shout died on my lips, as did my smile. Never before, in our years of chatting in front of the Second Cup, had D ever harbinged doom.

He shook his head again. “It’s real bad.” The he nodded sideways, to the door of the Second Cup, and I saw the sign: “Closing for Renovations by end of week – every item for sale.”

“What do they mean, renovations?” I asked, rooted before the sign.

“The way they talk about it on the streets (the “streets” of Ottawa are apparently quite concerned over the welfare of this Second Cup),” he lowers his voice, forcing me to stop staring at the sign and lean close to him to capture every syllable, “they’re going to be closed for a while.”

“A while?”

He simply nods and goes quiet. “I’ll get you a hot chocolate, no whip,” I whisper as I pass him and head into the Second Cup, the door slightly heavier than usual.

It all looks the same, inside. The same wooden chairs, the dilapidated section in the back where used to be a bagel shop, the dark corners where sometimes a student was allowed to take a quick nap... it was all the same, but disturbingly different, all at once. As I stared at it, I felt as though time was painting over the beloved mosaic that was this shop, where I had spent so many happy hours writing and forgetting the world.

“What’ll it be, miss?” Dave, one of my two Second Cup guys asks. How long would it be before I would hear him say ‘miss’ again?

“Large Caramelo?” Caramelo. It was Monday. Caramelo day. I always loved Caramelo day.

“And hot chocolate for D,” I say softly as I approach.

“Hot chocolate, no whip, coming up,” he says as he takes my money and quickly gives me change. Wally, the second beloved Second Cup guy, tries to break the tension.

“It’s getting cold out there! I think it’ll be a long, cold one!”

His smile falters as though he has said too much. I don’t ask for details – the fate of my Second Cup is more than one can handle first thing on a Caramelo Day.

“How much for the clock?” I suddenly ask, and all three of us understand I’m just trying to capture a piece of this place, as though by buying their weary Time for a Second clock, I would somehow slow down the passage of time, and steal the painfully efficient paintbrush straight out of Father Time’s hands.

Dave gives me a weak smile. “Sorry miss. It’s already sold.”

That was Caramelo Day.

Things went downhill from there.

Sunday, 11 November 2007

Navigating the Treacherous Waters of Publishing - Part 2

Self-publishing

Self-publishing used to be frowned upon as the rejected child of the publishing industry, only to now be celebrated as one of its prodigal children. Many bestselling and well-known authors first undertook the self-publishing road, such as Virginia Woolf and James Joyce and, on a more recent note, Christopher Paolini with Eragon.

Mind you, using these authors as examples portrays the self-publishing industry as simply a road to the world of traditional publishing. And yes, it can be that. But it can also be so much more.

Judge a book by its cover lately? Well, in self-publishing, you get to decide what exactly it is people will be judging. I love this idea. My roomy is a wicked artist (as can be witnessed in the “About the Header” blog entry), and she could make such a wonderful cover. Another of my best friends is an amazing graphic designer, and she could take care of the lay-out, and I’m sure it would be kick some serious butt.

And inside there would be some pictures, like in the old fantasy days. Just quick black and white pen-type sketches. I’ve always loved them, and miss them so in modern fantasy novels.

My sister-in-law is a photographer, so we’re talking book jacket picture right there. And any necessary Photoshop-ing (let’s not fool ourselves here). (See the blog pic? That’s her stuff. Cool, eh?)

So it would be a nice product, something that would stand out on the shelves (should the book get on the shelves). No need for the same old, same old.

And of course they’d all do this for free until I can repay them somehow. I’d throw a party for them, though. With lots of snack foods and properly-themed googly-eyed creatures.

Printing the books would require some capital, which is a bit of a problem for most. But you start with a small run and re-print once you’ve proven to yourself you can sell. There’s not need to go into complete debt over this. And you can set your own cover price, though it’s wiser to aim for the lower end (meaning cutting into your royalties). Customers don’t like taking chances on unknown authors, and they’re more likely to pick up something cheaper and that ends in “.99” (silly, but true).

Then, once the book is out, well, you need to market the little sucker. You prepare your website, and sell your book from there, maybe posting a teaser chapter for fun. You go to talks, bring your printed bookmarks for your book (every author seems to have those), and you become your book’s best champion (you and your mom).

Online marketing is the fastest and cheapest method to start off with, though not necessarily the most efficient at times. Author signings in bookstores are of limited popularity, but I figure one sold book could mean ten, since the best selling method is word of mouth. So time to get out there.

Of course, you also need to distribute it. Online stores are willing to post self-published books, as long as you take the necessary steps with them and pay your fees. Not too shabby, but remember, keep in mind shipping costs! Those will devour your profits real fast!

Even after all that shining on your part, your sales might still not be that great. And you’re having a hard time breaking into even local independent stores. And your mom can only buy so many copies. The cure? Keep writing, keep taking out more stuff, and keep marketing like mad.

It seems that to be successful, self-publishing has to become a full-time gig. Or you wait to be discovered by a traditional publisher. But if that’s your only goal, save yourself the hassle and go straight to the source. Or, if your only goal is to call yourself a published author, well, quit writing. That's just sad. Besides, self-published authors are not technically "published," they're "self-published."

If your goal, however, is to have a product you’re proud to call your own, from every word to every art stroke, and you don’t care about the quantity of sales so much as the quality of the book (or you’re a marketing guru with lots of capital), then this is the road for you.

And during the course of your self-publishing journey, remember that, in the end, it’s the echoes your story will manage to leave in your readers’ minds that will sale your next book.
So make sure, amongst all the marketing and number crunching, that you don’t forget that first and foremost, your job is to write.

Wednesday, 3 October 2007

Navigating the Treacherous Waters of Publishing - Part 1

Traditional Publishing

The world of publishing offers many venues for new authors – depending on how much time, money and effort you’re willing to put into getting published. The stigma used to be that traditional publishing was for real authors, and all those self-published authors were poor and possibly crazed writers with too much financial backing.

The tides of the industry are ever changing, and although the shadow of the large publishing houses still looms over most of the book market, there are some gems out there that are definitely worth exploring.

But first, let’s see what the traditional publishing industry has to offer. My disclaimer here is that I fully intend to generalize and lump them all together, and I’m mostly referring to the crushing conglomerates. Every house, every editor and, in fact, every human being is different, and that's what keeps things interesting.

Traditional publishing houses, mostly the ones located in New York (and in Toronto for Canada), have the power that few others have – guaranteed distribution north and south of the border. I mean States and Canada, just to be clear.

An author published by these houses is also secured in the knowledge that their books will hit all the main shelves, from Barnes & Nobles to Chapters-Indigo, as well as be available at the click of a button on the net. It’s across the continent and cyberspace, and it’s big. Wow.

But what else do they do for you? The editors will of course try to make your book better, helping with plot rewrites, language edits and creating more powerful endings. Published authors have various opinions on editors – Terry Brooks edits his own stuff; John Saul is in love with his editor. That’s all about relationships and writing philosophies.

For the Cyrano de Bergerac out there, for whom it would be most difficult to see but a single comma moved, this is definitely not the route to take.

Although I believe good editorial work is most often needed, I’ve heard of authors being burned by the editorial process. A regretful fantasy author once lamented the death of a character where they would have lived, had they but stood their ground with their editor. Having read the book mentioned above (not saying which for fear of spoilers), I have to admit, the death scene added nothing and really kind of sucked (and I usually like death scenes).

Anyways, editing can be bad, but for most first time authors, let’s face it - it’s a good thing.

So traditional publishing houses edit and distribute. What else do they do? (warning – incoming rant!)

Well, they give you absolutely no powers over the cover of your books. I’ve heard from some first time authors that they didn’t even see the cover until they received their contributor’s copies. And, let’s be honest, their most junior and crappiest artists are usually assigned to new authors, or the artists whose only style is, well, the same as everything else out there, at least in popular fiction.

In fantasy, your book is almost guaranteed to have two people (maybe three!) on the edge of a cliff or by a tree staring into the distance with purpose (or straight at the reader – wow!) In romance, you have two intertwined lovers, half naked, sporting dark of red hair, regardless of what the characters actually look like, completely dependent on which dye colour is in at the supermarket right now. Horror is easy: it’s either a solid colour with a stylish icon like a lightning bolt, or there’s a half-shadowed face in there. Be afraid.

And it’ll be mass market format, which is fine. The publisher, after all, has already demonstrated a lot of faith in the first-time author by bringing the book to the presses. Let’s not push our luck.

Marketing? Nah. You do that on your own, honey, so you’d best hope you like the book cover, or come up with another clever way of selling your book. Publishers have limited marketing funds, and most of them are spent advertising the latest John Grisham-esque novel in the New York Times. I work in communications and marketing, and so don’t mind tackling the challenge and would in fact enjoy it, but how many new authors just don’t know what venues are available to them? They might have written the best book of the century, and they’ll barely be read because our media-heavy capitalistic culture is clamoring for attention elsewhere. That ain’t cool. New authors should at least get some guidance. It would only be in the best interest of the publishing house to sell more books, really.

Rights? You retain the copyright, of course, but you’ll have to surrender a slew of other rights. Some publishers now claim in their contract that publishing right remains theirs as long as the book is available in print OR online. That means they can keep a half-hidden link to your masterpiece, amongst the newer, flashier stuff, and no one can buy a copy for years, and still you can’t pitch it elsewhere. Even long after only dust remains of your printed work. Neat, eh?

And even to quote yourself on your own website you have to ask the publisher’s permission. I mean, let’s be serious, what are they going to do, sue you? And many publishers refuse to let authors post a first chapter as a marketing ploy, refusing to let too many words slips through their itching hands. I know many authors, some of them bestselling, who post multiple chapters, and it’s only enticed me to run out and buy the book.

Ok, that was my rant. And my fears with traditional publishing. Not that they’ve proven to be extremely warranted fears with all of these rejections I’m accumulating...

Let me end my (long) piece on traditional publishing by saying this: of all the negatives of traditional publishing, there is something that marks it above all other types (no, not just distribution, though that is nice) – when you’re accepted and published by a traditional house, you already have a team of professionals who believed enough in your words to pick it out of their slew of submissions, put good, long, often thankless hours into it, and then backed it with the capital necessary for your words to find their readers.

And that’s why I believe , regardless of everything else, that traditional publishing is still the best way to go. Once you make it past all those judges and get approved, you can be confident your first book is as good as it’s likely to get, and it’s already been championed.

And isn’t it nice to be believed in?

Monday, 1 October 2007

September Post-Mortem and October Goals

Every month is like an event – you set and reach your goals (mostly), you get acceptances and rejections (ok, mostly rejections. Almost exclusively rejections. It’ll be a small party!), and you hope to find a sponsor or two along the way (meals are sponsorships, right?)

At the end of each month, I look back and see how much I’ve accomplished with my writing and telling, if I’m where I wanted to be at the end of the month, and if not, then why not?

For September, I had planned to:
  • Write 15,000 words of Warrior of Darkness
  • Write and send 2 short stories
  • Send off Bergamont’s Journey (a story of about 17,500 words – will make chart soon of all stories...)

Did I meet my goals? Alas, no. I did meet my short stories goal, and Bergamont is ready to be mailed today, but I missed my target for Warrior of Darkness. The problem was that, at the beginning of the month, I received my tenth rejection for Destiny’s Blood. I’m pretty fussy over my writing, and this is the first of my manuscripts I actually believe might get published.

But there were still a few plot points and character traits I wasn’t sold on. I had sent it out into the world because, well, I really needed to wean that manuscript. So when it came back, I decided to sit down and re-visit those problem spots. It took a lot of work, but it was worth it. I still managed to write 5,000 words of Warrior of Darkness, so that’s not too bad. Still, next month, I’ll try to hit my goals.

Speaking of which, here are my October goals:
  • Finish language edits on Destiny’s Blood and re-read to make sure I make sense
  • Write 5,000 words of Warrior of Darkness
  • Send off one short story
  • Write two ghost stories for October 23 telling

We’ll see how it goes!