Getting awfully quiet round here…

You’d almost think something dire was going on, but actually, it’s been a pretty good month, all things considered. I’m in the midst of writing a romance novel, which I’ll ramble about here in a moment. I have to admit, the weather shifts have made concentrating a lot harder. Also, with the daytime weather being warmer, I spend more time on the balcony tending my garden, and of course the puppy needs to be walked. With the afternoons being warmer, we take longer routes around the area, and I think we’ve scouted out every dog park in a two-mile radius.

This is a little hard on my hips and lower back, but I know I need the exercise, so I just slip on my headphones, get lost in the music, and let my mind wander. Sometimes I think about stories I still want to write, and sometimes I think about the books I’m reading from other people. And sometimes I just watch other people and wonder what their stories are like.

I’ve been trying to read my manga too, with limited success. Part of my problem in picking up Italian is, I’m rarely outside of the house, and I only talk to hubby, who reverts to English whenever he’s home. It’s weird how I can get the gist of conversations I hear, but I can’t speak or write the language very well. Reading is extremely challenging because it seems I’ve only just begun when I get a kind of pop in my brain, and then I’m mentally fatigued and in need of a nap.

Writing doesn’t do this to me, but I get get the same mental fatigue when I’m editing. It’s like writing takes place in an undamaged part of my brain, and learning or working on recalling the myriad rules of grammar and style taxes part of my brain where I’ve got plaque scars.

Anywho, reading for pleasure doesn’t do this to me either, but I read to “study” other books and I have noticed how that can also tire me quickly. Plus, despite lots of practice, I don’t read any faster. So I actually write books faster than I read them. If it didn’t take so long to edit them, I could probably drop out a story a month.

Couple of random things…

First, I wanted to mention getting a good review on Rebbie Reviews for The Life and Death of a Sex Doll, and I wanted to thank the reviewer for giving my book a chance. They also bought a copy of Saving Gabriel, so I’ve got my fingers crossed that it works for them too.

I probably shouldn’t, but I want to point out that despite having nothing but glowing reviews, The Life and Death of a Sex Doll still doesn’t move many units. It’s ironic in that I used the term sex doll in the story to convey a certain prejudice against artificial companions, and that people in meat space seem to be opposed to reading this because they see Sex in the title and think “porn.” *Shrug* eh, people are still hung up on sex, I guess.

Moving on, the second thing I want to mention is, Friday, I got a message from a friend on Facebook that my former roommate is now accusing me of stalking someone, and of using their image on one of my book covers. Both of these claims are false. The person he’s talking about, I haven’t looked for or lurked around. I was told to leave them alone roughly ten years ago, and shock of shocks, I did. I do still think of them and miss them sometimes, but I also regret being a bad influence on them, and I don’t long for a reunion. They have their own life to live without my crazy ass making problems for them, and I hope that they’ve since grown up happy and healthy.

I do not have any photos of this person, and all my book covers were made using stock images from Shutterstock, where I have an annual membership to buy five images before I need to pay for a renewal. I would not ever use someone’s image without their permission, and I would NEVER use this person’s image because I respect their privacy.

Why I’m still reading Maggie Stiefvater…

So, last year I read Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater, and it drove me bonkers. Or, more so than normal. I loved the intro, the characters, and the basic premise. I loved that the book didn’t need a huge conflict to resolve. It was a non-formula story, and it was pushing all my happy buttons until one event was revealed near the middle of the book.

In the story, it comes out that the main character Grace was once locked in a car on the hottest day of the year, with a fever. This is a non-event in the book, and in the series so far. It’s a non-event to Grace, to her parents, and to everyone else who knows about it. This revelation was the first clunk of the story, and it drives me nuts because almost every other month, there’s a similar real life story in the news about kids locked in cars, and the parents who do this get arrested and lose custody of their kids.

Let me repeat that: the parents who do this get arrested and lose custody of their kids. In Shiver, it’s not even acknowledged as an act of abuse.

I’m sure to any reader who’s never been abused, this is no big deal. But to me, this one point has stuck in my throat, and it made me hate a lot of other moments where the writing went for an easy answer. The writing at times becomes so lazy that it made me want to throw the book. But I finished the story, and I still had Linger on my TBR shelf. Why? Because after reading 10 chapters of Shiver, I was absolutely certain I had to read the rest of the series.

So, I’m reading Linger, and I’m halfway through. I’ve got plans to get the last book in the series, Forever, and I have a copy of a new series starter, Raven Boys. While searching for Forever on Amazon, I saw Maggie has another series about faeries, and I groaned but made a note of it so I could pick it up later.

A different kind of ramble on reviews

Let me preface this by saying I am not asking for reviews at this time, and that this ramble has nothing to do with any reviews I’ve had recently. What inspired this post is a trend I’m noting among indie authors and promoters, and it’s one I can’t say I care for in the slightest. It seems like such a little thing to complain about, but it’s the addendum added to review requests, four irritating words: “if you like it.”

“Please support indie authors by reviewing their work, IF YOU LIKE IT.” Bullshit.

The whole point of a review is to tell other readers what you thought of a book, and you should feel okay giving a bad review if you didn’t like a book. You should not treat book reviews like a gladhanding session. If you can’t say anything nice about a book, then say what you didn’t like about it.

I had an indie author approach me about this and say, “But what point is there to a bad review? It will only hurt the author’s feelings and their sales.” They’re completely missing the point of what a review is meant to do. To these youg’uns, a review is all about stroking their ego and helping build hype for a book. It has nothing to do with informing other readers about the work, or what you as a reader felt while going through the story. Being polite for once, they are totally missing the point.

A bad review can still help sell copies in ways these folks cannot understand. A book with nothing but 5-star reviews begins to take a hit in credibility because we live in an age of bulk-purchased praise and sock-puppet accounts. We live in an age of gaming the systems with praise from friends and relatives. Thirty-five 5-star reviews and no complaints says to the average reader “Something funny is going on here.” Nothing but endless praise sets off warning klaxons and can actually hurt your sales. But if you have a few 2 and 3-star reviews to go along with the glowing praise, now the readers can look over both sides of the review spectrum and feel like they’re making an informed decision. That’s why you ask for honesty from readers, so that other readers can make an informed decision before they purchase your work. No reader should ever feel like they were tricked into buying your stuff, and no would-be reviewer should be made to feel like they can’t complain about not liking your writing.

Y’all know I’ve got a couple reviews that burn my tits every time I think about them. But I would never try to remove those reviews. It doesn’t matter if they send some potential readers running away. The main point of the review isn’t to help me sell books. It is for the reviewer to tell other readers what they thought of the book. I can take a good review and show it to the public as a promotional tool, but that’s a secondary function. The review isn’t for me, it’s for the readers.

It’s hard enough for indie authors to gain any sense of legitimacy to their art when publishers and their pro authors are constantly dissing us as unprofessional. The pros often game the system by buying friendly reviews, or by quote chopping ambiguous reviews to sound like glowing praise. The pros do a lot of unprofessional things to enhance the illusion of their artistic legitimacy, but these are not tactics we indies should need or want to duplicate.

So if you must ask for reviews, ask for honest reviews, good and bad. Do not ask for reviews “if you like it.” By doing this, you’re missing the point of a book review, and you’re looking just as vain and speshul snowflakey as the image the pros are projecting onto you. Reject that notion, and be willing to take some hits to your image with bad reviews. Ask for and encourage honest reviews, and don’t worry about bad reviews until you actually get one.

When you do get a bad review, deal with your pain, but let it stand and don’t try to get it removed as “bullying.” A bad review isn’t bullying. It’s just someone who didn’t like the way you told your story. So let it stand and find a way to cope with it. My way is to bitch on Twitter and drink a lot to ease the sting. So I suppose it’s a good thing that I’ve only had a few bad reviews, or this could lead to alcoholism.

Encouraging mooching will get you nowhere fast…

So last night on a Facebook group, a woman asked about getting Neil Gaiman’s work for free, and I tried telling her politely at first that even big-time writers needed sales. I then suggested Anansi Boys as a good place to start. Said person, who went under the handle Gypsy and had a stereotypically inappropriate avatar, informed me that she wouldn’t spend money on a writer without knowing their style first. I responded that Neil doesn’t have any one writing style, so she said “then I won’t bother with him. It’s a waste of money.” So I called her a moocher, she said, “Oh Neil doesn’t really need my money.” I called her a moocher again, so she boo-hooed to others about how means I was.

The incredible part of this is, the group is run by a publisher, and the publisher’s moderator apologized to the woman for me and said I don’t understand how things work. They were of course willing to give their author’s work away because they’re struggling and need the exposure.

Oy vey. (y.y) I could get this attitude if they were a single writer just starting out, but a publisher sucking up to someone asking how to get the work of a writer not on their label, and not even suggesting that they look into buying work…it’s really sad that the publisher doesn’t feel the need to support their own writers and ask for money for the artistic efforts of the people they work with.

Look, people, exposure is financially worthless. In the history of the art world, no landlord has ever said, “I’ll take some of your exposure in lieu of your late rent.” No bill collector has ever said, “Oh, you got new exposure? Well send some of that over and we’ll discount what you owe us.” Exposure won’t keep you or your family fed, and it won’t keep you clothed. Free exposure of your art will likely lead to exposure to the elements unless you take a day job.

The SFWA reveals some misogyny

So, first, I want to link to this blog post from Carrie Cuinn. You should read the whole thing, but in particular, I want to quote a section taken from the 2013 SFWA’s bulletin:

The reason for Barbie’s unbelievable staying power, when every contemporary and wanna-be has fallen by the way-side is, she’s a nice girl. Let the Bratz girls dress like tramps and whores. Barbie never had any of that. Sure, there was a quick buck to be made going that route but it wasn’t for her. Barbie got her college degree, but she never acted as if it was something owed to her, or that Ken ever tried to deny her.

She has always been a role model for young girls, and has remained popular with millions of them throughout their entire lives, because she maintained her quiet dignity the way a woman should.

This translated is, “Barbie is a good girl who keeps her mouth shut around the men-folk and doesn’t expect equality or act like a skeezy whore.” Because you know, Barbie should always be offered out as the perfect role model for girls. Unless they’re fat. Or whores.

This is from the so-called professional organization for sci-fi writers. But hey, sci-fi is really becoming progressive, and there’s really no sexism in the industry, and anyone who says there is is probably asking for too much from the men-folk. Either that or they’re attention whores.

An apology to those concerned for my well being…

I tried earlier today to turn on Tweetdeck, figuring two days might be long enough for me to be calm. But no, I was ready to go off on people for nothing. I’ve got my head in a blender, and I’m dealing with some serious paranoia issues.

So that’s why the tone of my posts went all negative and hostile. I know some of you folks aren’t part of the problem, and you’re feeling genuinely concerned. Well I’m sorry, but right now I’ve having trouble seeing you for my crazy. But that’s also one reason I’m pulling back from the social sites. I know my crazy is starting to get out of control, so I need to just go sit in a corner and pet my dog.

There are others who don’t understand why I lose it, and I don’t think y’all will ever grasp how badly broken I am. It’s not just a few trust issues, and I am not just a robot who can be reprogrammed to act right. Years of abuse and head injuries have made me unstable and mean. Even my awareness of my issues cannot prevent me from slipping sometimes. A few weeks back, a little boy died after bullies gave him a concussion. I’ve taken beatings just like him for years, and head injuries like that have life-time side-effects. And this is only part of what’s wrong with me.

To the people who understand what I’m saying, I’m sorry that I have lousy self-control. And to the people who want to be offended by me, I’m sorry that you don’t understand me, and I honestly hope you never have to deal with problems like mine. I truly mean it when I say I would never wish this shit on my worst enemy.

Because I just haven’t said enough stupid shit this week…

I figure, fuck, I’m on a roll, why stop now? So I want to talk about this constantly parroted comment about the publishing industry: “This isn’t an art, it’s a business.” This is their excuse for taking only “safe bets,” their excuse for taking on only the nice polite authors who write books by the numbers like a math formula. It’s their excuse for why we no longer have any risky books without the writers going indie and proving they can make sales before any publisher will touch them.

You’re a business huh? Well you’re a business with a 1% success rate. Let’s start right there. You call yourselves the kings of content control, but you can’t pick a sure winner. In fact, people have sent you award-winning books as a test of your quality controls, and you rejected best-selling, award-winning books. Any book you do sell a million copies of is due more to dumb luck than your discerning taste, and any book you sell that is popular is usually ridiculed as popular crap.

You’re a business who mocked authors for years, and who made them follow the most asinine rules to reach you. A full decade after email came out, most of the big publishers still wouldn’t get with the times. They’re finally catching up now, when the rest of the world is moving on from email to other forms of online communication. And now that we’re all using social media, what are y’all saying? “Don’t contact us on social media. That’s so gauche.” Hey, maybe in ten years, you’ll actually figure out what the social part of social media means. But judging from your history with email, I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for you to get a clue.

You’re a business that mocked POD and ebooks, even as you were losing talent to the indie movement. You’re a business who mocked indie writers as desperate and unable to be patient and work through your “proven system”. (Bold words from people who lose money on most of their safe bets.) You’re a business who once you noticed the trend of readers moving to e-ink, raised the prices on ebooks to punish your customers for not shoring up your paper business. You’re a business who keeps killing your own international market with region restrictions and DRM. Despite your constant unprofessional behavior, you still demand that authors kiss your ass, and you still don’t listen to anything the readers have to say about how you run your business.

But perhaps the biggest sin you commit in parroting “This is a business, not an art,” is that you blatantly ignore that your job as a business is to sell art. If you book publishers worked in the music industry, you might try to convince punk and alternative metal bands to produce easy listening, because that has more of a mainstream appeal. You’re a tone-deaf business, one incapable of changing with the times, or of listening to the authors you work with, or the readers you work for. In short, you’re a business of people who suck at their jobs, and you still want to convince writers that they should jump through your flaming hoops when you haven’t demonstrated a lick of business sense in twenty fucking years.

So, yeah, forgive me for deciding to ignore your business and just focus on selling my art by myself. I may be less professional than you in my methods, but I’m relatively sure I can’t fail any more spectacularly than you have.

On Pride, Prejudice, and Privilege…

So, I’m off of social networks for a few days until I can fake sanity, or at least civility toward my fellow netizens. I got pissed off at a lady who was talking about how her dad caught her dancing, and he told her to think how the world would see her, dancing like that. And she was so proud of this story, that he didn’t spank her or nothin’. He just shamed her for dancing, is all.

Well I lost it and said something mean, and she told me I should reread her posts, because clearly, I didn’t see how him shaming her was a good thing. And then she went off on me, saying, “I won’t bother with someone who can’t check his/her White privilege.”

I had to wonder if she used his/her as an insult to a trans person, or if she did it because she couldn’t tell my gender from my picture. My hair is kinda short these days, and my tits are kind of small. But then what pissed me off was me being given something by a black person that I couldn’t get from white people, because I’m too queer to fit in with them.

But isn’t that always the way? Somebody always has a reason for why I can’t hang with their crew.

Who do you think I am?

Last night, the weather shifted, and I didn’t think. I let the voices get to me, and I said something way too mean to someone, even if it was exactly what I was thinking. They dismissed me with a few easy words. It’s not so hard to do, for anyone to dismiss anyone else. You don’t want to hear any negativity? Just find an excuse and run with it. Done, problem eliminated. Well, it’s not really gone, but you don’t have to think about it anymore, and that’s good enough.

Here’s my most recent picture:

What do you see when you look at me? Do you see a person with a mental illness? Do you see a victim of systemic abuse and torture? Do you see a former predator and con artist? Do you see a survivor? A housewife? An artist?

Do you see the cracks in my shell? Do you look at my smile and think about how I hear voices, or that I spend six days a week living in my room? Do you think about the fact that I have no friends in meat space? Do you think about my guilt, my shame, or my regrets?

I don’t think you do.