Blog Flashback: RT Day One: From Immodium to Extreme Confusion

Hey kids!  Got some things in the works this week, but wanted to repost my review from a few years back of the one and only writing convention I’ve ever been to: The Romantic Times Convention.  This is the first of a, shall we say, three part series.  Enjoy!!

RT Day One: From Immodium to Extreme Confusion Current

Ahhh….sooo….well, things did not go particularly well to start out with. For starters, I was ill this morning. I secretly think that our crappy waitress last night at the Big BE (Bob Evans, yo) poisoned us. My mom thinks it was nerves. I’m pretty darn sure it was nerves, but I made an Immodium run anyway. And if you’ve ever traveled with me, you know that’s how I roll.

Anyway, so that didn’t bode well for the morning. Things boded even worse when I got to the hotel and found a lack of, well, direction. But I’m bold, so I strolled up to a girl with red and white striped arm…ah…arm warmers? I was pointed in the right direction. Got my bag. Got my name badge. Took seat on couch. Immediately panicked. There was map. No obvious listing of agendas. There seemed to be a listing of workshops and times, but no actual connection to said map. Sooooo not good.   So, I followed a group of people that seemed to know what they were doing. This leads me to a conference room where a workshop was about to start. Good, I must be in the right place.

I realized I was in the wrong place, however, when the leader threw her arms in the air and screamed, “So who here is a virgin??!?!” Ooops, wrong workshop.

It turned out to be a workshop for first time conventioneers–one I was going to take on Thursday–but, unfortunately not the one I was signed up for. So, off to a bad start. Things got progressively worse when I signed up for an agent/editor interview that turned out to be an agent that places people with self publishers. Uhh. No. I do that. 

Needless to say, this did not make me happy.  But, things took a turn for the better with the afternoon workshops.  They were really, REALLY good.  I learned a ton about promotions and emarketing.  In fact, I learned I need a website.  So, that’s on my to-do list.  Website. 

I also loaded up on mass quantities of freebies.  I currently have nine million pens and a fun assortment of random stuff, like lip gloss and two mouse pads.  And awesome pins that say things like, “I’m a Naked Reader” and “Hell yeah.”  Fun times!  Oh, and a pirate eye-patch.  Everyone needs a pirate eye-patch.

So, day two should be better.  Especially because now I have a better grasp of where to go.  That’s a good thing.  We’ll see what I learn tomorrow.

Ah, and how could I forget???!  I got a condom on a stick as a freebie.  I thought it was a lollypop…they were calling them lollypops and I glanced at it and thought, sure.  Purple.  Stick.  Lollypop.  Verity poked it with her finger and declared, “Nope.  Condom.”  Yeah, I’m dumb sometimes.  LOL.

 

Sieging Vicksburg

When it comes to knowledge of the Civil War, hubby and I comfortably reside on two opposite ends of the spectrum.  Hubby knows all the battlefields, generals, tactics, positions, companies, units, battalions, ante-bellum, Reconstruction, etc.  I know Civil War medicine, womens roles, and the lyrics to a bunch of songs.  Useless triva and I go hand in hand (example: ready made clothing for women was not available until the 1920s.  Now you know!).

So, my knoweldge of the Siege of Vicksburg was limited to knowing the lyrics and tune to “Twas at the Siege of Vicksburg” and knowing Vicksburg was in Mississippi.  Hubby has been, quite literally, salivating at the prospect of going to Vicksburg since we went to Mississippi the first time in 2008.  This time, now parents, we decided to throw caution to the wind, strap the baby in his carseat, and drive three hours from the coast to the battlefield.

And the parrot shells were sanging through the air!

Why you might not know much about Vicksburg: the Siege lasted 47 days and ended on July 3, 1863–the same time the Battle of Gettysburg ended.

Location of Grant’s Headquarters

Here’s the lowdown: Excellent park!  It’s beautiful, seriously, I cannot say enough good things about Vicksburg.  The landscape is gorgeous.  Keep in mind this is a park you’re going to drive through and occasionally get out to do some walking.  It’s not a Gettysburg were you can literally wriggle all over the battlefield.  Vicksburg is expansive and if you’re going to walk, be prepared.

Special point of awesomeness: The USS Cairo and Museum.  The Cairo was a Union ironclad the Confederates sank during the war.  It was pulled out of the river and preserved–complete with original guns and original woodwork.  You can actually see where the torpedo (actually a mine) went through the side.  The museum includes some of the sailors personal artifacts pulled out of the boat.  It’s pretty incredible to see a neckerchief with the knot still tied in it, last tied by a Civil War sailor.

My kid is a year old and didn’t mind the driving.  He liked looking at the monuments and the Cairo.  Now, if you’re like us and drive three hours to get there, be prepared for limited attention spans and impatience as you get close to the end.  ALSO, keep in mind that, due to problems with vandelism, the park is only open until 5pm.  We had to, literally, run through the last part of the field.  I’m not even kidding–I sprinted to the top of a redoubt. 

The Park Museum: on the small side, but gives a good overview of the Siege. There’s an electric map, which made Hubby’s day.

Ratings: A

Bathrooms: I only found bathrooms at the Cairo museum and the visitor’s center.  There are roads to get you back to the visitor’s center, but if you have a kid that has to go NOW, be prepared that a bathroom might not be available.

Food:  Vicksburg has a lot of restaurants in it.  You will not find food in the park.  Right down from the park, however, is the best KFC buffet I’ve ever eaten at!!!  Delicious.  I recommend.  I think I ate my weight in sweet potatoes.

Parking: You drive through the park, but there is parking at the visitor’s center.  You pay will pay to park, but that is also your fee to enter the park.

In the end: I really enjoyed Vicksburg.  It was neat to see a Siege battlefield, where instead of battlelines you had more tactical warfare.  Plus, the Cario is a must see.

Side commentary: I had an inside out cinnamon bite or something like that from Arbys tonight.  Let me just say, for a fast food dessert, surprisingly amazing!!!  Three for a buck.  Sure, it’s not the Cheesecake Factory.  But in a pinch, fan-freaking-tastic.

 

Hot damn, we’re back. Again!

Seriously, it’s tough to get anything done with a one year old running around.  Getting cleaning done: forget about it.  Getting writing done: think again.  I did manage to lose 70 pounds, which is pretty darn exciting.  So, take that, previous uncertainty on dieting.  I’ll show you!

Writing continues.  It seems more like a little here and a little there, rather than the marathon writing I used to do before my child stopped being polite and started getting real.  And started walking.  Today he tried to take a nose dive into a quarter sheet cake.  A little of that goes a long way.

New Orleans!

 And in the midst of all the chaos around here, the baby stuff and the work stuff and nine inches of snow that got dumped on our town in one night–screw you winter, screw you–we managed to go on vacation.  Back to Mississippi!  Back to bumming around on the beach and the toughest decision being if we should have mashed potatoes, or baked potatoes, or hey, maybe even sweet potatoes with dinner.  And then someone said, “Hey, lets drive down to New Orleans again, just for a little bit.  We can grab some lunch and go to a museum.”

And the mother bear in me looked at my child and said, “DURING MARDI GRAS????  MY CHILD????!?!”

And the hubs rolled his eyes at me, put the baby in his carseat, and off we went.

I ate a sloppy joe sandwich that was, literally, the size of my face.  We ended up just spending the afternoon touring the National WWII Museum, which was very nice but required an unexpected, large, amound of reading.  Then the baby had a tantrum and I had a brief nervous breakdown.  All in all not a bad day.  I saw an Elvis float go down the highway, which was about all I actually saw of Mardi Gras.  Maybe next year.

And I’d just like to say, for the record, Popeyes Po’Boy Sandwich??  Fantastic.  We in the North don’t have such fabulized, deep fried, catfish sandwiches.  Some things are just done better in the South.  The Popeyes Bo’Boy is one of them.  Another fine example is the KFC Buffet, which is all but extinct up here.  I saw one that ran from 11am to 8pm!  Out of control.

**drum roll please**  The debut of a new segment that really has no name, other than Travel Review.  History Travel Brief?  Eh, whatever.  Anyway, the hubs and I like (read: love) history and have been to A LOT of historic places.  Some good.  Some not so good.  And I’m a tired first time mom.  Going somewhere is a heck of a lot easier if I at least have a brief idea what I’m getting myself into. 

So, here’s the low down on The National WWII Museum in New Orleans, Louisiana:  they have a restaurant there called, “The American Sector.”  It’s pretty good food.  It’s VERY expensive food.  Your kid probably isn’t going to like it.  If your husband is like mine, he’s probably not going to like it either.  The kid’s meal comes in a metal lunch box, with entree (i.e. mac and cheese), french fries, cookie, and plastic army guy.  Apparently for a few dollars more, you can keep the lunch box.  We’re cheap.  We didn’t.  As for the adult entrees, you really do get a lot of food that’s quite good, but again, I’m cheap and do not relish paying $10.00 for a sloppy joe sandwich that came with NO sides.  That cost extra.

The museum has two parts: the museum and the battle theater.  The battle theater is a “4D” experience narrated by Tom Hanks.  We didn’t go in because it would have freaked out the baby.  So I have no comment, other than hey, if it’s Tom Hanks, it must be awesome.  Note:  there is an additional cost for the theater, aside from the museum entrance fee.

The museum: expensive.  VERY expensive.  As in, I think it was $18 per adult.  There are not a lot of artifacts.  There is a great display–the entire 3rd floor in fact–on D-Day and I really feel like I learned a lot, but I also had to read a lot.   And note to concerned parents: there is a large display on the horrors of war that is made up of graphic photographs of dead soliders, both US soldiers and Japanese soldiers.  It’s definitely pretty heavy stuff, even for older kids.  In my opinion anyway.

Rating: B-

Bathrooms: Clean.  Seemed to be only on the first floor of the main museum.

Food: Expensive and not a big selection.

Parking: We parked in the museum lot, which was really, really small.  It was about $6 for 6 hours and is right across from the museum/gift shop.

In the end: skip it if you’ve got kids younger than 10.  They’ll be bored.  And no one enjoys having a kid induced breakdown.

Still two more reviews from the trip, but I’m old and it’s past my bedtime, lol.  To be continued!

 

Model 1857 12 pound light gun howitzer, that’s what.

Purcell's Battery

That deliciously sulfury, rotten eggy smell wafting in your general direction is the smell of victory.  The smell of artillery!  I love love LOVE Civil War artillery, namely, the fine specimen shown above, the Model 1857 12 pound light gun howitzer, the Napoleon!.  Love. These.  So, the hubs and I were at Gettysburg this weekend: wallowing in history, marvelling at the facial hair of reenactors, getting sunburned.  I may have cracked a rib wearing a corset, but, that’s okay.  Battle scars.

Anyway, it’s been about a year since we were last in Gettysburg and, in that year, about six more ghost hunting tours have sprung up on the main street.  I, personally, refuse to shell out the cash for a ghost tour.  And here’s why: I have run around that battlefield since college–in the day time, at night, in the rain, in the snow–and I have never once seen something otherwordly, undead, or paranormal.

Until today.

I met the hubs at Gettysburg.  We got engaged on Devils Den, in knee deep snow, right after a blizzard.  We’d never walked across the Pickett’s Charge field together, so today before we left, we decided to drive down and first walk down to the Virginia Monument, then turn and head back to the Emmettsburg Pike towards the Copse of Trees.  It was an amazing walk, thinking about battlelines and the artillery; being able to walk the rise and fall of the land really brought that charge alive to me. 

It was pretty early, around 11am, so there weren’t many people out and about on the field yet.  We passed a few people on our way back to the Pike, but it was pretty much just the two of us.  As we got closer to the Pike, I noticed a person walking across the path in front of us.  I can’t say it was all the way up along the Emmettsburg Pike; the size of the figure was larger than how large the cars were, so I estimate it was between where we were and the road.  The figure was all gray and seemed to have on a long dress–I say this because it wasn’t like watching a person walk in front of you, where you can distinguish legs.  I couldn’t.  The figure walked into the field to the left of the path (towards the old Home Sweet Home hotel for all you familiar with the area).  I figured, okay, just another person.  I didn’t mention it to the hubs.  But when we got up the road, there was no one there.  No one in the field, no one on the sidewalk.  No one across the road.  I mean, sure, whatever or whoever it was, was moving at a pretty good clip, but we weren’t that far away.  If it was a person, we still should have been able to see them. 

So, I don’t know.  It’s something I just can’t explain, I guess.  It could have been paranormal.  It could have not.  But it was pretty darn interesting.

Also interesting was the woman driver in front of us at Benner’s Hill.  We were just about to pull out of the circle when this SUV passed us and headed towards the road.  The hubs pulled out behind her.  Behind her, not on her bumper.  The woman then proceeded to drive not only off the road, but off the road and into a drainage hole.  The SUV practically flipped over; she pulled forward and rocked the ass end into the hole as well.  The hubs hesitated for a moment and then drove around her since, you know, she had pulled over.  She then proceeded to scream out her window at us.  I can only assume she was screaming at us, as she was alone in the car, but she was pretty adament about something to do with driving off the road.  I have no idea.  She then pulled back on the road behind us and disappeared in the opposite direction.  Whatever.  If you can’t handle a car forty feet behind you driving ten miles an hour, perhaps its time to turn in the old keys.

All in all a super weird weekend.  However, it’s definitely weird enough to make me want to write—and that’s definitely a good thing!

 

The meatloaf that ate the western seaboard

I got all industrious tonight and made a meatloaf. 

Amazing meatloaf of doom

I’m not a fan of loaves of meat (hamloaf anyone?), but the hubs is and I sometimes like to throw a curveball at him by doing something nice, so I crafted one.  Seriously, it’s like four pounds.  My only concern–and it’s a big one–is that maybe it didn’t cook all the way through.  It’s a mountain of meat.  I don’t own a loaf pan, I just slapped it down on a cookie sheet.  But the meat thermometer ensures me that it was indeed heated thoroughly to 160 degrees.  I read Robin Cook’s Toxin.  I didn’t eat ground beef for a year after that.  You don’t have to tell me twice when it comes to meat, death, and disease.  Robin Cook wouldn’t lie to us.

Speaking of food and disease, any fans of “Monsters Inside Me?”  I saw an episode where a guy went fishing and ate undercooked fish.  He ate undercooked fish because he was “so hungry” he couldn’t wait.  Trust me kids, you can wait.  Let this man be an example to you.  He ended up with a tapeworm hanging out his butt.  Read it again.  Hanging out his butt.  It gets worse.  His wife cut the tapeworm off at cheek level, causing the internal part to shoot back up inside him. 

Words fail me.

But look, I told the hubs, I love him dearly.  But I don’t love him enough to cut a tapeworm off at cheek level.  Ugggghhhh, it’s wrong on so many different levels.  I’ll pluck back hair, I’ll check for hemorrhoids, I’ll massage lotion on his feet, but I wash my hands of all things parasitic. 

It was a slow weekend for me.  I festivaled.  I ate delicious fried dough.  I watched some Intervention and an embarrassing amount of Lifetime movies.  No writing.  Seriously, I’m at the height of my laziness.  I think it’s the heat.  The hubs thinks it’s the gin.

Gotta run.  My current Lifetime movie is near climactic end–the wife just grabbed a chainsaw.  You know this will end well.

 

Seriously??? Wtf.

So, I’ve already ranted about this on Facebook, but it totally bears repeating.

I joined a critique group quite some time back.  I don’t submit a piece everytime because, as aformentioned, I’m lazy.  Well, I got off my lazy butt and sent in another few pages of my current work in progress, fiction about post-Vietnam.  The main male character comes back from the war as a double amputee.  One of the critiques I got back informed me that there was no way this would ever work because AND I QUOTE, “people will find a double amputee revulting.”

Are you kidding me.  Are you FREAKING kidding me??

Part of what is about to give me a coronary is that we aren’t that far removed from Vietnam.  No, I’m not talking politically, should-we-be-there-or-shouldn’t-we kind of thing, but the fact that our soldiers are coming home amputees.  They’re coming home scarred.  PTSD is rampant–so much so that the military just laxed the rules for when a soldier can file a claim for PTSD (I think now they just have to be in country, not just in battle?  Don’t quote me).  So, does she find these men and women revolting?  Yes, war is revolting and carnage and bloodshed is revolting, but the soldiers who come home injured are not revolting.  They are heroes and should be treated as such.  What’s revolting is her attitude. 

The critiquer also went as far as to tell me that no one would ever be interested in reading a book where the main female character is attracted to the main male character because no one would believe that.  Don’t even get me started.

I refuse to shelve this project.

Ugh, such a horrible start to end the week.  The only thing that redeemed today was a delicious gourtmet pizza my coworkers and I ordered.  A spinach and ranch pizza, with feta cheese and tomatoes.  Sooo delicious.  I swear, I could have eaten the whole freaking thing.  And that would have been a shame, too, because today was Day One of Operation: Get in Shape Girl (anyone else remember the 80s exercise program Get in Shape Girl?  The 80s were such a magical, wonderful time.  The movies!  The music!  The toys!).  My goal is to lose ten pounds.  Fifteen would be better, but I’ll be happy with ten.  Actually, Operation: Get in Shape Girl was scheduled to go live earlier this week, but faultered due to an inordinate amount of baked goods at the office.  And last Friday, we just ordered an ice cream cake for lunch.  The overwhelming vote between coworkers is that ice cream is made of dairy, which is positioned firmly on the food pyramid.  That’s healthy stuff, you know, calcium and all.

I do not foresee this diet going well.

 

Don’t be jealous of my boogie.

Another year, another excuse.

Actually, my excuse this time is that I had a baby.  In summarization, being pregnant made me a) mean, b) crave Totino’s Pizza rolls, c) swell up like a water balloon, and d) hate writing.  I also quit my job where I could spend all day slacking off, blogging during work hours, and now have a real, grown up job that monitors Internet usage. 

But now I’m back.  And that baby is six months old.

On an unrelated side note, I watched a lot of RuPaul’s Drag Race while I was on maternity leave.  Can I just state, for the record, that I wish I looked as amazing in short shorts as JujuBee does?  I’ve been trying out RuPaul’s Drag U, but…it’s just not the same.  Give me competition.  Give me drama.  Give me Tyra Sanchez hot gluing lace to her wrists.  Dammit, that’s compelling television.

So, writing.  In the six months since my son was born, I’ve started a few new projects.  I like to have a few going on at once; that way, if I get stuck on one, I can jump to another and keep the creativity going.  And yes that’s a semicolon.  I refuse to quit (see below post).  Anyone starting a new project?  Anyone want to show some love for an old project/work in progress?

I’ve been keeping an eye on Authonomy for awhile now.  I think I’ve lost the love.  Their last email was basically an ad for CreateSpace (formerly known as BookSurge).  It encourages authors to self publish in order to get their work out an in the eye of agents, big houses, etc.  It’s the second such email I’ve received recently.

I don’t know what to think about that.  From all that I’ve read, agents/publishing houses, do not consider self-published books as legitimate writing experience.  Unless, that is, the self published book has done insanelly well, like iUniverse’s past pub “Still Alice” by Lisa Genova.  That’s a one in a million shot.  That’s Russian roulette.  When BookSurge was still BookSurge, they had numerous articles on their site promoting the same thing.  I just see too few examples of this truly being the case.  Yes, some selfpublished authors do extremely well.  On the flip side of the coin, far more never see a return on their investment.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: it’s hard for the new author to get good, legit advice nowadays.  I mean, here’s Harper-Collins encouraging people to self publish.  Here’s an interesting look at someone who posted on Authonomy and their experience.  I’m not convinced that Authonomy is turning out to be what people expected it to be…I have to agree with the Militant Writer: it’s pretty much a virtual slush-pile.  And while we’re on the subject of self publishing, here’s an interesting article from NYT best selling author Michael A. Stackpole.  In the end, kids, to be a published writer, you have to write.   You have to polish what you write.  And you have to make sure what you’re sending out is the absolute best it can be.  No one wants to end up the “bad example of a query letter” on an agent’s blog.  Finish what you write, edit what you finish–then submit away.

What floats my boat this week:  The new season of Ghost Hunters airs tonight on Syfy.  Yes, I have been known to run from the kitchen to the bedroom at night because I’m scared something unearthly is wandering around the living room.  Yes, I foolishly think pulling the sheet over my head will hide me from a ghostie.  But Grant Wilson can investigate me anytime.  Word.

What I’m reading: Alas, no books to recommend.  I bought a huge stack on my last trip to the bookstore, but haven’t had a chance to jump in.  I have this idea I’m going to read the classics, but it’s just not happening.  The Iliad left a bad taste in my mouth.  Come to think of it…I never actually finished The Iliad.  I found it that nonenjoyable.  Shudder.

 

Death of the Semicolon

The endangered Semicolon

Still not bringing my A-Game here.  I blame it on the fact I am quite easily distracted by entertainment gossip.  First Farrah, then Michael, now Billy Mays?  June was a good month NOT to be a celeb.  Anyway.

I recently joined a critique group; online of course because as we all know I’m a tad bit too lazy to actually drive somewhere.  The critique group is awesome–got some really good feedback on my newest work in progress (on a related side note, I’m too terrified to send the finished one in for crit because I’M BACK TO HATING IT).  I was startled, nay shocked, to learn that my BFF–the semicolon–is rarely invited to the party anymore.  Apparently in the romance genre, the semicolon is frowned upon.  I guess you can still use it in other genres, but in romance it is kind of like a faux pas. 

I mourn this.  I love the semicolon!  Where are these bizarre punctuation rules coming from?  I’ve read on other blogs that only “idiots” put two spaces after periods anymore because this is 2009 and we aren’t using typewriters.  One person even went as far as to say that editors won’t accept your work if you use two spaces after the period.  Seriously?  I really hope that it just a nasty rumor with no truth to it.  Because if not, that really sucks.

I really can’t figure out what is wrong with the semicolon.  But this apparently means I can bring an old friend, the em dash (–) back into play.  In high school, my creative writing teach informed me that em dashes (–) were incorrect in writing and the mark of an incompetent, novice writer.  HA, take that…lady’s whose name I don’t remember.  Miss King?  Wow, was high school that long ago that I don’t even remember teachers names?  Sad.

Has anyone else out there heard of this sudden avoidence to semicolon?  Heaven help comma, because I would die if a limit was put on his use.  A day without commas is like a day without sunshine.

On July 5th, I’m starting two online writing courses.  One is on past life regression and using it to create cool characters.  The other is on plotting.  And, just to throw another wrench in the works, I’m applying to grad school.  So, I’m taking the Miller Analogies Test this month too.  Because, you know, I’ve really missed studying vocab and suffixes.  In the end, studying for the MAT makes me realize just how much crap I’ve forgotten.  It’s terrible to get old.

I think once these classes start, I’m going to repost a three part blog “series” (I use that term loosely) I wrote when I went to a writers conference last year.  It’s more of a study about how inept I am at maneuvering said conference than anything else, but still reasonably entertaining.  So, at least there’s that to look forward to…

 

Slacker! And the writing continues

And, much like my diet, I obviously have trouble sticking with updating my blog.  This is probably due to the fact I usually blog from my work computer (*gasp* Improper internet usage!!!) and have been out of control busy as of late.  In fact, I haven’t even got around to emailing people back that have emailed me.  Slack.  Er.

So anyway.  The novel continues to be rejected.  I’ve gotten a few nice responses, a la “I’ve really enjoyed it” or “It is very well researched” but every single one ends with “but there’s no room on my list for it.”  Sooo….I don’t know.  I’m thinking of rewriting the beginning part of it.  I think the beginning might be too slow, which would be a problem.

My next thought is, of course, self publishing.  There are a ton of good companies out there.  I don’t see why I can’t just do it myself and market it on my own.  I mean, that’s what everyone says you do anyway when you publish traditionally.  So why not do it myself and get more royalties?  Decisions, decisions…

In other news, I’m fat.  Apparently.  It was a horrifying experience at the doctor’s last week, when she kept sliding the weight down on the scale so my heft would register properly.  Ugh.  I think this comes from working a job where I sit on my butt all day. 

For about a week and a half, I considered joining the miltary.  But, alas, my high blood pressure put an immediate stop to that.  The only good part I can see about this is that a) no more trying to run a mile and a half and b) no more trying to do pushups.  So, I went ahead and bought Jillian Michael’s 30 Day Shred from Amazon.com. Fabulous!  I think it’s kicking my butt into shape, but it’s still too soon to tell.  My clothes fit the same and I’ve actually GAINED weight.  Hubs says he notices no difference yet.  Depressing.  About 15 minutes into each 20 minute workout, all I want to do is stop the DVD and eat an Oreo.  Fun Fact: One double stuffed Oreo is 70 calories.  I, personally, prefer to eat my Oreos in batches of like, ten.

In the past few months I’ve started three new novels, all of which I like better than the one I finished.  Sigh.  Maybe it’s time to just step back and leave it be for while.  Focus on something new.

Not much new on the reading front.  I recent read two historical fictions: one was HORRIBLE and inaccurate, one was quite good and inaccurate.  The quite good one was Tess Gerritsen’s The Bone Garden which I was kind of slow to enjoy, but ended up really into it.  I’m not really sure on the accuracy of some things, but, all in all a great read and an ending I did NOT expect. 

The horrible one…well…I’m not going to mention the title of it, but it was awful.  I only forced myself to finish reading it because I had paid $16 for it at the bookstore.  The main reason I’m bringing this up is because of something I learned at the writer’s conference last year.  My problem with this book is that the main character was, in the end, a horrible person.  And we’re not talking a horrible person that you enjoy because of their horribleness (like Hannibal Lector or someone along those lines), but just horrible enough that I didn’t care about her.  I honestly did not care about her or what happened to her in the book. 

At the writer’s conference workshop, one thing we learned was that a writer should create sympathy for the main character.  There should be something that makes the reader sympathize with what the character is going through; to make the reader cares what happens.  I honestly didn’t care what happened to any of the characters in this particular book, not even the one who I think the author intended have sympathized and identified with.  Everyone’s motivations were purely selfish and just driven out of ego–which would be fine if there had been some other character to balance that out.  But in this instance, there wasn’t.  The characters all seemed to have the exact same motivation and means; even when there were obstacles, they characters just kind of shrugged it off and did what they wanted anyway.  And the historical inaccuracies…well…don’t even get me started.

The movie trailer for New Moon was just released.  I still haven’t read the book yet, though I bought it six months ago or more.  Someone stole my copy of Twilight so I guess I’m just more annoyed than anything.  What’s the consensus?  Excited to see more sparkly Robert Pattinson?

 

2009: Worst Year EVER in Publishing?

I recently read on a blog that 2009 may turn out to be the worst year publishing has ever seen.  This due, in part, to the economy (the economy is the scapegoat for everything).  The big houses are being uber selective.  Agents who work with the big houses are being even MORE selective.  The want new, they want fresh.  They want something that is going to make Twilight-like sales right away.  I even have heard people go as far as to say if you are an unknown writer, don’t even bother.  The industry is only looking for authors who are tried and true, i.e. King, Sparks, Grisham, Brown, Roberts, Rowling, etc.  They want a guarantee.

And much like the economy, there is no guarantee that new authors are going to produce.  For example–and I don’t remember where I read this, but it was a blog–it’s easy to publish.  It’s hard to get thousands upon thousands of people to buy your book.  Especially, when people are tight with their money.

Some people are calling for a change in the industry.  Get rid of the returns policy.  Only authors with a track record should have actual hardcopy books printed; make everyone else be digital.  Are they saying that new authors aren’t worth the paper they’re (not) printed on?  I also saw one commenter on a blog say that there is no room for new voices.

So, where does that leave us?  The New York Times just wrote a really interesting article about self publishing being the wave of the future, which you can read here.  I think the stigma of so called “vanity” publishing is fading away, especially when most authors can’t even get a rejection from New York agents, just an auto response that says “if you don’t hear from us in 4 weeks, we’re not interested.”

Here’s another interesting idea: Authonomy.  You can post your novel on the site and have people all over the world view it.  They can give you comments; tell you what they like and don’t like.  And the kicker?  It’s run by HarperCollins.  Three authors who had posted on the site recently signed deals with HC.  Apparently this place is generating a lot of interest.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse for new authors, check out this blog on how the New York Times picks the books to review.  Kinda makes you feel like a salmon swimming upstream, huh?

So there it is.  What’s going to happen with the publishing industry?  What’s going to happen with the economy?  Who knows.  I think my policy is going to stick with believe in your work.  Be persistant.  Do your research.  Don’t let the big baddies get you down.