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Showing posts from November, 2008

okay I'm less impressed

1. The two paragraph description I wrote isn't up on the product page. now it is. Man, I could have used Monica Burns's help with that thing.
2. The formatting in the book is occasionally wonky (NOT my fault)
3. When I downloaded a sample onto my Kindle (yes, I have one) I got the whole book. It's supposed to just grab the first 10 percent, and it seems to put an extra 0 on the amt grabbed.

But still. Aside from that. It's cool.

Although one could argue it's sort of sad that I've spent so much time messing around with a book that will earn me zippo dollars. I'm also messing around with a jigsaw puzzle, and that's even more futile in the great scheme of things.

Naw, I'm not arguing either of those.

I'm going to go to bed and recover from the wild day-long brunch. The dang puzzle is still lurking downstairs, only 1/3 done. I hate those things. No wonder we only do them once a year. Except, yes, yes, there's something nice about only doing it on Tha…

It's up at Amazon

You can buy The Rat Catcher on Kindle. Wow. . . . This really is going to change things in the world of publishing. Seriously. I pontificate at Amazon.

easier'n falling off a log

Do you know what's simpler than letting gravity pull you off that log? Publishing a book on Amazon Kindle. Seriously, this is going to change EVERYTHING. It's too damned easy.

You can go buy my book there on Kindle, I think. Eventually, soon. Did I mention that damn, that's EASY. If you want The Rat Catcher for your Kindle, you have to pay for it. Three dollars. I'll post a link if and when it goes live.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING.

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Here's an old Thursday Thirteen. Mel the book reviewer.

and the chocolate pie for tomorrow.

The recipe is here. Dang, I've been blogging a long, long time.

dagnabit

So I played with the FREE STORY and cleaned it up (again) but now I can't get the pesky online server to work so I can't upload it. If you send me your email address, I'll send a version that has some typos corrected. I loathe typos. Sorry. Also I used actual italics instead of underlining in the new version. Lots of italics as it turns out.

UPDATED: Yay! New copy loaded. If you see mistakes do let me know. And yes, the title stinks and yes, the cover isn't appropriate for a fluffity romance but I don't think those count as actual mistakes, dude.

Now I'll go do writing that actually makes me some monies. No, first I'll go make the pies and brussel sprouts.

ANOTHER, WHINIER UPDATE: My great experiment didn't work. I can't keep track of downloads and emails--the counter died at about ten, and I know at least fifty people have gotten the book. That means it's okay to just send a PDF file to a pal and skip the "go to download" portion of th…

here's my tasteful cover for your free book

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Thanks Meljean

I think I got this right. Anyone want to read a free novel? Try this. Here's the deal: If you do download it, let me know. Email readingyourbook@gmail.com. That's the payment--telling me you took it because I want to see if anyone does.

No, there's no cover. I figure I could put one on eventually and I won't use posers. Maybe a tasteful city-scape.

SBD what to read in the doctor's office

Okay, I have a novel put into PDF now I just need to load it onto websites and blogs from my computer. Any suggestions?

Today: I'm sitting with my Kindle reading some smut and I realize the woman in the chair next to me is practically breathing down my neck trying to read along. The whole point of bringing a Kindle was because I can make the font bigger so I can leave the glasses at home (which I do by accident anyway. Still not used to dragging the damn things everywhere).

I either need some way to scramble the screen or a more acceptable book. It got me thinking what you should read in which sort of office. I was in a GI Dr.'s office and it seems to me Jacque Pepin's autobiography [h/t Lyvvvvvie] or any cook book is perfect there. I'd have to save the smut for the OB/GYN. Oncologist? Well, I'd say Mary Roach, but that's just rude and uncalled for on my part. Okay, fantasy works for any doctor's office. Seriously.

EDITED TO ADD: Definition of SBD - Smart Bit…

en garde

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This is what boyz do Friday nights and Saturday mornings. (hey, not my idea.) The good thing is it's inside because holy jeebus it's cold here....brrrr.

My new facebook group

How To Promote Your Book if You're an Introvert, Socially Inept, Disorganized or Simply Modest

I started it on a whim and now I'm remembering how badly I do promo and how nice it is to KNOW that and not fret about it.

On the other other hand, I'm promoting the heck out of this group and doing a fine job of that.

and now for something completely different

over at the dearauthor thread that didn't die for a long time**, Angela James, who knows these things, says that Bonnie Dee doesn't write erotic romance.
???!!
Huh. That might be true of some of Dee's books, but others....what more could she do to push them into the E part of the E R world? Can't see it happening without pushing the story over the edge of romance into erotica. (Countess Takes a Lover is the one I'm thinking of, but I can pick out a couple of others)

In my little world this proves once and for all that what constitutes ER must be subjective, because Angela James knows what she's talking about and I think I do too. The Supremes knew it when they saw it, and so do the rest of us. Thing is, a sense of titillation is all it takes for some**** and others (usually people who've read nothing but smut for days and days--I've been in that boat******) require a lot more hammering and nailing to consider it hot.

I would go see if there is a list ("…

I'm warning you now

Here are three things they don't warn you about when you become a parent:

1. Every time your kid grows and changes, you lose someone. That old kid is gone and the new one is great and all, usually, but you don't get to hang onto the sweet lil thing you love. Luckily, memory is a wobbly thing, and so the pain of losing that old punkin is no big deal except occasionally when you run across a photo or drawing or something. (Maybe this is why I don't take so many photos--selfishly trying to avoid loss. I thought it was because I forgot how to use the camera.)

2. Memory is worse than wobbly actually. It's rotten as wood that's been left out several years. There are about a thousand moments when I know I made a big effort to take a mental snap shot. I promised myselfI won't forget how it looked and felt when the kid saw his first [fill in blank {no really, please fill it because it's blank}].
I won't forget how sweet that moment was when he [blank].
I won't…

my judge escaped

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So I called in another judge. Literally. Dragged her out of her car where she was waiting to haul us both off to exercise.

"Look," I said, and showed her the picture.
"Listen," I said, and read the entries.


She liked them all, and I expect she wished I'd gone across the street and nabbed the Republican** as judge.

At last she picked LYNN'S. Yay LYNN! You now have Bosnian Socks. I just need to send them to you. Email me your address (again, please). Thanks!

_____
**After all, he is the Arbiter of Good Taste on our block. Both husband and wife are, but the husband is on the board of the town's historic preservation committee bushwa, thingy. Whatever
They are extremely New England Tasteful and are all about proper restoration and subdued good taste. They used to make snarky remarks about my kids' toys in our yard. So one night I planted two pink flamingos on their front lawn with a bad taste manifesto attached to them. I told the neighbors that if they took …

Yeah, that.

I read Goose Girl and Austenland and went on a search for more, much MORE Shannon Hale, and found this in which she explains exactly that which I've been trying to say, only she's much less snarky (except about poor Plum, I suppose) and much more articulate about it. Thank you, Shannon Hale.

About the contest that 2-3 of you are waiting eagerly to see: I have to grab my judge and peel him from his computer to read the entries to him. So I'll post results tomorrow because now I'm going to go order more Hale books. Damn them for not showing up the minute I hit "buy" ..... God, how spoiled I am by ebooks.

--Plum Savage

Another blog

well, um, yeah. Another group blog. But this one will only for That Summer Person. It's time she got her own gig with no politics, no silliness, no boys. It's all about her writing. We'll see how long that lasts. Good thing Summer isn't a very interesting person so her books will have to be featured. I mostly joined because I'd love to have my name associated with Bonnie Dee who will be big any day now, yessirreebob. And now I have to go buy books by those other people. First I have to finish the Marie Treanor who is also an autobuy these days. So far, no let downs from her.

Oh and did I mention my three new autobuy authors? Vivien Dean, Pepper Espinoza and Jamie Craig (Jamie's the first two combined). I'm kind of sick of m/m which they sometimes feature (truthfully I'm kind of sick of romance) but their writing is fun. I found all three while judging and now I love them like I love cake, which is quite a bit. Even more than ice cream. OH and damn! I h…

this cries out for a finer caption

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Aya sent me this page from the Boston paper. Sorry if you were going to put it in your blog, Aya. On the other hand, the more places this Art is posted, the better. It deserves an audience. Anyway, what label would you give this shot? It deserves better than "A Landslide? Says Who?" I mean we're obviously talking wave for one thing.

Here. Let me crop. That might be easier for you to give this picture words that are worthy of its awesomeness. Caption, description and/or snark, your choice.

Whoever gives the best caption gets a prize of some sort. I'll decide soon what it'll be. Look for updates.

Weird how pleased McCain is. You'd think in a campaign full of snarls and grimaces they'd find something in which he looks less chipper. Or maybe being buried in a sea of disembodied Obama heads is just what he's been longing for.

Click on the photo to see details.

and no, it won't help if you turn the main character into a dragon

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Really, I wasn't whining in that last post. It was a "huh" comment.
But this is more terrifying, even if it is way more fun. From 30 error messages you never want to see. They're all great. This was the only writerly one in the bunch. I do like "your mother is coming upstairs" message. Click on the image to make it sort of bigger.

failing friends in the business

It's interesting to have people assume you've reached the peak of your career and are on the downhill slide. I'm talking about other people's perception. (When you feel that way, it's not interesting; it's just horrid.)

It's rather like watching others respond to your demise. You stop existing entirely. In case you're guessing, this is about me, btw, of course, naturally, as usual. I'll switch off the you now.

Anyway, some of the people I considered friends haven't got time for me and I completely understand it. I might be bitter, but that's not my only response (and the bitterness tends to set in when I'm feeling bad about me and my writing so I expect even then it's about me, not them so much.) I get it: It's a variation on the Pratchett thing: personal is different from important.

If you have only so much time in your day to interact with people, you want to talk to and email the ones who'll be of some benefit to your career,…

interview with a PITA

I swear to god I have an anti-muse living in my head. Shannon Stacey often interviews her muse, maybe I could serve an eviction notice on the anti-muse.

me: dude, go away

am: you and what army will make me? And by the way? Your face! [odd that he sounds a lot like one of my kids--pick a kid, any kid]

me: Hey, maybe this will banish you. I have here an email from my agent who says she loves the first few chapters of this story and wants to see more.

am: so? what makes you think I'm gonna shut up enough to let you write LALALALALALALALALALALALA and by the way? She's just one person. What does she know. This story is stupid.

me: [whimpering.] What will it take?

am: Bribe me and maybe I'll go away. I accept promises of chocolate and procrastination.

me: please, please, just let me finish this scene. I've been stuck on this scene for hours.

am: only if you immediately twitter afterwards. Make it about politics so you lose more readers. And by the way? Have you noticed how grungy yo…

snarling

Usually this happens with weather. "Warm enough for ya?"

Today's issue? Just guess. No really, go ahead. It won't be hard.
First person asks me.
My response: Yeah! Sure did! I voted. YAY!
Second online nagging
me: Yes! I did it.
Third nudge: Okay, yes. I did.
Fourth: Yeah.
Fifth: [shrug]
Sixth: It's not really your business.
Seventh: Fuck off.

Ready to be done. Ready to think about something, anything, other than this election. I didn't even get a sticker so I can't get my coffee or ice cream. Although now it looks like Starbucks is in trouble with that. Go on, all you slackers. You can get your free coffee too.

series to the nth degree, an SBD

I hadn't read Joanne Lindsey** before. That's the problem. SO NOW I'm listening to a book that's part I dunno, 170? of the Malory family on tape. The whole thing is hysterical, but I'm not sure it's not supposed to be.

If I'd come across some of these characters who were in past books, I'd probably have a perk of interest. Hey, good to know Uncle P is no longer being held hostage in the carribean and Uncle J made it back from his trip to rescue his father-in-law from pirates, I'd think.... instead I'm WTF? Don't any of these people just raise and enjoy sheep?

What we got is a huge extended noisy family consisting of all the romance cliches in the world, sitting down to dinners with each other. It's as if the oceans of fictional earls dukes and barons all showed up at the house of parliament--no at Almacks--at once. They all are standing around drinking bad lemonade and discussing their adventures as spies, pirates and rakes.

I just got to …
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Voters, get your free ice cream on Tuesday. I expect the line at Ben and Jerry's will be even longer than the one at the voting precinct.

Our trick-or-treater was determined to be Sarah Palin but didn't want a paper mask. And there were no SP masks available. Anywhere. None. Nope. Every place we looked had at least a couple of Hillary masks and we did find some Mitt Romney and a Bill Clinton. But no Sarahs anywhere.

Yet we didn't see a single Sarah come to our door and we had about a gazillion people show up. Okay, maybe only a few thousand. My theory is someone is hoarding those damned masks.

He settled on being an igor instead. The sideview with the pillow/hump makes him look like a depressive.

I'm not off to a great nanowrimo start. How about you?