After the hideous snow scare of a short time ago, we have a beautiful day here in late October. So we're taking advantage of it and traveling up to see the Yankee Siege. That, dear readers is the ultimate in cool-- a giant mechanical device that flings pumpkins through the air to crash a long way away. It's called a trebuchet, and is based on siege engines of the middle ages that were used to batter down fortress walls.
It is an awesome process, and to watch the gaze of two hundred people follow the path of an airborne pumpkin missle, while going "oooooh" in unison, is something to see. It is, as they say in these parts, "Wicked cool." Hey, and our local engine has won the World Championship of flinging stuff on several occasions.
If you can take time to see something fun like that with friends, it's a good thing. There are too many headlines and current issues that make one worry, and too many tasks to do in life. On a day like this, I chuck it all and enjoy. What will you do today for relaxation and fun enjoyment of life?
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Snow- and having it good
Snow? In mid-October? This isn't right. Snow should have the decency to wait to arrive until at least mid-November. It's still the time to take in the beautiful leaves, the varied colors the trees are displaying. Not the wet slush of flakes. NO, NO, NO!
So May, June, and July were kind of crappy, weather-wise. We had some nice days in August and September. And now this, with a long cold winter ahead. Sigh. Time to weather the weather in warmer climes.
Yeah, it's been a tough blogging season as well. Life demands a great deal of time, as does my job and my family. Oh, yeah, and a fledgling writing career. Plus a few other projects I'm working on to try and bring in some extra money, as we're sinking under a steady increase of bills. Don't get me wrong, life's great, but it does take some creative math to get all the bills paid on time.
Some people don't realize when they've got it good. I was listening to a friend rant about the burden of taxes he was paying, how bad he was suffering under the oppression, blah, blah, blah, and I look around at his $750,000 house, his numerous expensive possessions, his list of trips and vacations, his seemingly limitless wealth. I said it looked like he was doing pretty well. He said, "That's Capitalism."
Oh, I get it. No matter how much you have, it's never enough, and you complain about not having more, and no matter how good the system has been to let you amass great wealth, you complain about putting back into the system and helping anyone else.
Another acquaintance said something similar. His wife won thousands in the lottery, and he was complaining about paying the taxes and having to drive a few miles to collect the winnings. I suggested that if it was that much of a burden, he should give it to me to make his life easier. Man, if I had a few thousand right now, I'd be dancing for joy! All he could do is whine and bitch about not getting it all, not all the fun things he'd do with the extra money. That's some mindset.
Most days I write down the top five things I'm grateful for. Being alive that day is always at the top. Talking with friends this weekend, one mentioned that people get out of bed with the same old mindset, and that some of them die that day. Few think that their number will be up that day, but it happens to them anyway.
So we've got it good if we're alive and healthy. Happy comes from within, and too many people don't know when they've got it really good. Let's spend some time appreciating what we do have instead of what we don't.
So May, June, and July were kind of crappy, weather-wise. We had some nice days in August and September. And now this, with a long cold winter ahead. Sigh. Time to weather the weather in warmer climes.
Yeah, it's been a tough blogging season as well. Life demands a great deal of time, as does my job and my family. Oh, yeah, and a fledgling writing career. Plus a few other projects I'm working on to try and bring in some extra money, as we're sinking under a steady increase of bills. Don't get me wrong, life's great, but it does take some creative math to get all the bills paid on time.
Some people don't realize when they've got it good. I was listening to a friend rant about the burden of taxes he was paying, how bad he was suffering under the oppression, blah, blah, blah, and I look around at his $750,000 house, his numerous expensive possessions, his list of trips and vacations, his seemingly limitless wealth. I said it looked like he was doing pretty well. He said, "That's Capitalism."
Oh, I get it. No matter how much you have, it's never enough, and you complain about not having more, and no matter how good the system has been to let you amass great wealth, you complain about putting back into the system and helping anyone else.
Another acquaintance said something similar. His wife won thousands in the lottery, and he was complaining about paying the taxes and having to drive a few miles to collect the winnings. I suggested that if it was that much of a burden, he should give it to me to make his life easier. Man, if I had a few thousand right now, I'd be dancing for joy! All he could do is whine and bitch about not getting it all, not all the fun things he'd do with the extra money. That's some mindset.
Most days I write down the top five things I'm grateful for. Being alive that day is always at the top. Talking with friends this weekend, one mentioned that people get out of bed with the same old mindset, and that some of them die that day. Few think that their number will be up that day, but it happens to them anyway.
So we've got it good if we're alive and healthy. Happy comes from within, and too many people don't know when they've got it really good. Let's spend some time appreciating what we do have instead of what we don't.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Publishing- Addendum
I wanted to share with you the difficulty of placing even a good story these days. Editors say they want different, well-written, yadda, yadda, but send them a truly different story, and they can't place it.
I've been sending this magical realism tale out- it's a lot of wordplay, a la Lewis Carroll or James Joyce. Editors claim to love it, but so far it has not found a home. Here are some of the comments I've received:
Enjoyable, not our style.
Beautiful. Thoroughly enjoyed. Loved your use of language and words
Great opening and premise- unique, semi-surreal.
Loved this whimsical story. Co-editor doesn’t like whimsy.
Beautifully written and very humorous. We like darker.
It was well received here- second round consideration.
I really enjoyed the fun and creative use of language: this sort of poetic word-play is one of the ways that writing can be made really beautiful. This was also a very nice story, with a fun (if predictable) twist and a clever moral. I do hope you'll consider sending us more of your work in the future.
I couldn't decide if this story was utterly brilliant or just too clever for its own good.
I enjoyed this charming, engaging tale very much.
I've been sending this magical realism tale out- it's a lot of wordplay, a la Lewis Carroll or James Joyce. Editors claim to love it, but so far it has not found a home. Here are some of the comments I've received:
Enjoyable, not our style.
Beautiful. Thoroughly enjoyed. Loved your use of language and words
Great opening and premise- unique, semi-surreal.
Loved this whimsical story. Co-editor doesn’t like whimsy.
Beautifully written and very humorous. We like darker.
It was well received here- second round consideration.
I really enjoyed the fun and creative use of language: this sort of poetic word-play is one of the ways that writing can be made really beautiful. This was also a very nice story, with a fun (if predictable) twist and a clever moral. I do hope you'll consider sending us more of your work in the future.
I couldn't decide if this story was utterly brilliant or just too clever for its own good.
I enjoyed this charming, engaging tale very much.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Publishing
One commenter on this site chided me for not having a published book out yet, despite that I've written three good novels. I doubt that person has seriously tried to get a book published, or they'd know just how difficult it is. What follows is not whining or complaining of how hard it is, but it's information for those of you dreaming of riches when you see the “Twilight” books stacked up in the stores, and imagining how easily you'll get six-figure advances for ideas that pop into your head.
Not too long ago, large publishing houses had editors that knew good books, liked good books, and were willing to take a chance and even lose money on a good book, knowing it wouldn't sell right off, but it needed to be out there.
Then greed happened. The speculators grabbed publishing houses, merging them into bigger and bigger conglomerates, figuring bigger was better. And the industry took a nose dive. Because books aren't like other products. You can't move them like widgets, and you can't accurately predict which will sell and which won't. Books are full of ideas, and often it takes time for ideas to percolate through society. But speculators want fast return, and they have no patience for authors building a readership over the years.
Big publishing houses don't want to publish anything which won't make them money. If a prospective book doesn't fit into an easily marketable niche, it doesn't stand a chance. They want safe, secure, predictable.
And yet the bookstores are flooded with substandard material. Insert your favorite examples here. Thousands of books get published every year. But the sad fact is, 96% won't sell more than a couple thousand copies. 98% won't break the 5000 mark. Two books out of every hundred make any kind of sale. And they're usually the blockbusters from the handful of sellable best-seller names, or some new celebrity or fad book.
There are fewer than 500 people in the United States making a living writing fiction. The rest of us have to earn our bread with other labor. But that takes time away from writing. And then there's the marketing. Without a name or a connection, you have a hard road ahead. You have to create and polish a query letter, prepare an exciting synopsis, get a list of reputable agents, shoot out queries, and hope for the best. You may hear back from one in three, a good return. It takes time and energy, all of which could be better spent writing more books.
And then the lucky day arrives, some agent likes your query. So you send some sample chapters. And wait. And wait. And wait. One day, months or years later, you finally get the agent interested in your work. So you bat a contract back and forth, finally sign, and later the agent sends it off to publishers. More time elapses, Glaciers melt, empires rise and fall, and finally some publisher agrees that the book is good.
So you sign more contracts and wait for your riches. You receive the requested edits, which can take weeks, and may change your darling into something unrecognizable. You receive the first payment, minus 15%, for your work, which amounts to several hundred dollars. There won't be much more for a first book. And they'll publish a few thousand copies, which will sit there unless you devote your life (outside of work, remember) to selling it. If your book doesn't take off, publishers won't want to publish your next one.
So why do we do it, when only a damn fool would undertake such a hopeless, thankless life's work? Because we have to. We writers hear voices in our head, have conversations with people that aren't there, and live worlds within worlds, while we get through this one. We are the talesmiths of old, the ones by the campfire giving meaning to our existence. If you think that's grandiose, imagine a world without books and writers. It would be a sterile place indeed. No dreams, no history, and no purpose. Just daily drudgery.
So it takes time. You need the stubbornness and determination of an Arkansas mule, and a hide about as thick, to withstand the criticism you'll get. Your reward will be a bucket of thistles, or maybe a pat on the back. But you do it anyway, no matter how long it takes, or what you get out of it. Real writers have to write.
Not too long ago, large publishing houses had editors that knew good books, liked good books, and were willing to take a chance and even lose money on a good book, knowing it wouldn't sell right off, but it needed to be out there.
Then greed happened. The speculators grabbed publishing houses, merging them into bigger and bigger conglomerates, figuring bigger was better. And the industry took a nose dive. Because books aren't like other products. You can't move them like widgets, and you can't accurately predict which will sell and which won't. Books are full of ideas, and often it takes time for ideas to percolate through society. But speculators want fast return, and they have no patience for authors building a readership over the years.
Big publishing houses don't want to publish anything which won't make them money. If a prospective book doesn't fit into an easily marketable niche, it doesn't stand a chance. They want safe, secure, predictable.
And yet the bookstores are flooded with substandard material. Insert your favorite examples here. Thousands of books get published every year. But the sad fact is, 96% won't sell more than a couple thousand copies. 98% won't break the 5000 mark. Two books out of every hundred make any kind of sale. And they're usually the blockbusters from the handful of sellable best-seller names, or some new celebrity or fad book.
There are fewer than 500 people in the United States making a living writing fiction. The rest of us have to earn our bread with other labor. But that takes time away from writing. And then there's the marketing. Without a name or a connection, you have a hard road ahead. You have to create and polish a query letter, prepare an exciting synopsis, get a list of reputable agents, shoot out queries, and hope for the best. You may hear back from one in three, a good return. It takes time and energy, all of which could be better spent writing more books.
And then the lucky day arrives, some agent likes your query. So you send some sample chapters. And wait. And wait. And wait. One day, months or years later, you finally get the agent interested in your work. So you bat a contract back and forth, finally sign, and later the agent sends it off to publishers. More time elapses, Glaciers melt, empires rise and fall, and finally some publisher agrees that the book is good.
So you sign more contracts and wait for your riches. You receive the requested edits, which can take weeks, and may change your darling into something unrecognizable. You receive the first payment, minus 15%, for your work, which amounts to several hundred dollars. There won't be much more for a first book. And they'll publish a few thousand copies, which will sit there unless you devote your life (outside of work, remember) to selling it. If your book doesn't take off, publishers won't want to publish your next one.
So why do we do it, when only a damn fool would undertake such a hopeless, thankless life's work? Because we have to. We writers hear voices in our head, have conversations with people that aren't there, and live worlds within worlds, while we get through this one. We are the talesmiths of old, the ones by the campfire giving meaning to our existence. If you think that's grandiose, imagine a world without books and writers. It would be a sterile place indeed. No dreams, no history, and no purpose. Just daily drudgery.
So it takes time. You need the stubbornness and determination of an Arkansas mule, and a hide about as thick, to withstand the criticism you'll get. Your reward will be a bucket of thistles, or maybe a pat on the back. But you do it anyway, no matter how long it takes, or what you get out of it. Real writers have to write.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Latest Article Out and Fair Musings
Part 5 of my series, "The Collest Movie Cars With the Coolest Drivers," is out at: http://www.motoringnortheast.com/news.php
It's been a busy time. Work and home life have kept me occupied and writing too little. But we pause for enjoyable things, like what we did yesterday. My family and I went to Maine to attend the Common Ground Fair (http://www.mofga.org/TheFair/tabid/135/Default.aspx).
It was the perfect day, sunny and cool, the crisp weather a Fall backdrop. This is a festival of good, locally grown organic food, and you work up quite an appetite walking around the grounds, seeing all the displays. It's also about people working to make their world better, striving for peace and a sense of community and healthy lifestyles. Doesn't get much better than that, and the vibe is thoroughly positive. If you like your food irradiated and covered with pesticides, don't look for it here. The produce isn't from multinationals using illegal labor, but from families in Maine working their own land for the benefit of all.
When I'm there, I see a better way of thinking, of people striving to make our prescence on this planet a sustainable one. There's a lot of thought about alternative energies, of getting our power from natural sources, so we don't have to invade other countries and embroil ourselves in endless wars. There's also the way of life without poisoning our air, water, and food, a great concept in my book. If more people could think and act in these positive ways, we might actually have a chance to stick around with a good life. Food for thought.
It's been a busy time. Work and home life have kept me occupied and writing too little. But we pause for enjoyable things, like what we did yesterday. My family and I went to Maine to attend the Common Ground Fair (http://www.mofga.org/TheFair/tabid/135/Default.aspx).
It was the perfect day, sunny and cool, the crisp weather a Fall backdrop. This is a festival of good, locally grown organic food, and you work up quite an appetite walking around the grounds, seeing all the displays. It's also about people working to make their world better, striving for peace and a sense of community and healthy lifestyles. Doesn't get much better than that, and the vibe is thoroughly positive. If you like your food irradiated and covered with pesticides, don't look for it here. The produce isn't from multinationals using illegal labor, but from families in Maine working their own land for the benefit of all.
When I'm there, I see a better way of thinking, of people striving to make our prescence on this planet a sustainable one. There's a lot of thought about alternative energies, of getting our power from natural sources, so we don't have to invade other countries and embroil ourselves in endless wars. There's also the way of life without poisoning our air, water, and food, a great concept in my book. If more people could think and act in these positive ways, we might actually have a chance to stick around with a good life. Food for thought.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Sports Day
Got an invite to watch the Patriots play football today- on screen, not in person, though it would have been a lovely day for that.
So disappointing to see them not win, to see the failure of all the elements that make them so good- running, passing, and defense. On top of that, many penalties, and the combination was too much.
But at least the Red Sox kicked butt!
So disappointing to see them not win, to see the failure of all the elements that make them so good- running, passing, and defense. On top of that, many penalties, and the combination was too much.
But at least the Red Sox kicked butt!
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Latest story acceptance
Just got word on my latest story acceptance-- "Rummy" has been selected for the November issue of House of Horror, a new market. This makes story publication #8, for those keeping track.
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