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Stupid Stuff I See On Facebook (Publishing Related)
OK. Its been awhile since I did a “Writing Post”. Writing about writing, is actually totally blah and writing about the politics of writing and modern publishing ends up like smashing one’s head into an iron wall. The headache is just not worth it.
But I came across this link (shared by Goodereader) in my feed. It’s hard to tell if its supposed to be parody or not…
http://goodereader.com/blog/commentary/self-published-authors-are-destroying-literature/
WOW! The arrogance. I wonder if this person knows, they probably wouldn’t be writing for a website called Goodereader without self-published authors… Becuse the rise of Kindle (E.reading) went hand-in-hand with self-publishing.
It’s not the mainstream publishers who made the Kindle hot, it’s all those cheap reads put out by the illiterate rube authors this guy is bashing that lit the fuse. Had the mainline publishers got their way, they would have killed the Kindle. Ever look at the price difference between a NY published book and a ‘self-published’ book? The NY publishers want us addicted to paper. It’s why they jack up the price of an ebook compared to its hard copy… and mind you, the paper version is not cheap these days.
Look. I do this because I want to tell stories which mean something to ME. Sure I like selling books as well, but you might have noticed I really don’t go around shouting “buy my books”. I hardly, if ever go to writing groups/pages on Facebook though I’m part of many.
The only places I hawk myself are this blog, or Donna Yates Pinterest authors board. I also know some authors can be really gung-ho about pushing their wares – But that also applies to so-called “real” authors as well. I follow more than a few mainstream writers pages, they don’t mind plugging themselves.
I do wonder if this person who wrote this commentary for Goodereader has heard of Twilight, or its countless knockoffs? Junk like that fills bookstore shelves. I wouldn’t exactly call it ‘literature’ in the way this guy means the word. How is that not having an adverse effect on ‘literature’? If anything, mainstream junk like that does more to kill good writing than anything some mostly unknown writer publishing on Kindle or Smashwords does.
You know why? Recuse the publisher and agent handling the publishing of these many Twilight knockoffs are probably throwing some otherwise great books into the slush pile, for one reason only – The Twilight stuff is easier to sell. And the only people who can be blamed for that are those who consume it.
No one will ever turn back the clock – Mmm well maybe Iran, with an EMP blast. But short of that, places like Kindle and Smashwords are here to stay.
If you get annoyed at an author (and thats what they are) pushing themselves. Kindly ask them to maybe not be so aggressive. OR don’t follow them.
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Neo-human Wiki
http://neohuman.wikia.com/wiki/Neo-human_Wiki
I made a Wikia for the Neo-human series. If you’ve read the books feel free to help out expanding the information,
Be warned it does contain spoilers!
FREE Poetry Book
Star-Fire Poetic Collection.
Dark fire cast,
Flame of burning blast-furnace of my hearts core.
Where there should be light shadows reign!
I feel rage, in that moment I am alive.
Flames fueled, not by hate – no love sets this pyre aflame.
What can I do to still it? Do I wish to extinguish this blaze?
No the conflagration drives me on!!!
Dark fire cast on my soul,
A shadow reigns over its light!
On Smashwords, download it here.
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Group Testing…
This opinion is not going to be popular among my writing friends.
And – Some of you might have noticed I’ve been talking more about science fiction, and entertainment on this blog rather than writing, or even my own books – that’s totally on purpose.
Those who have been following this blog know I often compare authoring, and movie making, or just plain storytelling to painting, or sculpting. There seems to be an accepted amount of artistic purity (on the part of the artist) permitted within those fields of art, which is generally not accepted among writers and storytellers.
There are two things I hate: Writers who spoon feed a story, Dan Brown style to a reader, and I am not very keen on group testing a story or book – Yes I know that’s heretical to say.
Writers, unlike our compatriots in painting are expected to subject their work of art, or pulp to a series of Darwinian take downs disguised as “vetting” (by which I do not mean spell checking, or grammar fixes – that is the so-called technical things) that deconstructs whatever one’s own original vision had been, as indie authorship grows, and takes hold, this aspect has become part of the system.
The problem I have with this is. Often the advice given (though well-meaning) tends more to be a reflection of the person giving its own biases, and needs. One of the biggest issues I’ve noticed, people evaluate other people’s work by way of their own writing style, that is to say, we critique other people’s books based against our own body of work and expect for others writing to reflect back at us our own style. When it does not, we tend to not care for it. Look I do it as well, its one of the reasons I do not do book reviews.
Sure, I’ll tell someone, “Hey read that book” but I usually leave it at that.
I also worry about polluting a work with too many hands in the pot. I’ll admit I am a bit of a control freak when it comes to my style, voice, and final product. Telling a story is not like getting the kinks out of a computer game or a piece of hardware.
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Arrival At GenKon
On a warm June evening an ox-blood painted Humvee pulled up outside of Genetic Konnections Incorporated. The sky was rusty orange, tinted with a suggestion of the same sanguine shade as that of the military style car that had arrived before the huge reflective glass building.
Four figures concealed in angular shouldered black trench coats jumped out of the Hummer: Kenneth Pierson, a muscular African-American with a shaved head and goatee, Kenneth glanced from side to side surveying the grounds of the empty parking lot, noticing it was not totally abandoned. A purple Maserati 3200 GT was parked next to an old Volkswagen van. Also in the lot, but off on its own a cream-colored BMW. Kenneth wondered whom the vehicles belonged to.
He stood with hands clenched behind his back beside the hulking form of Pierson. Roderik Visal waited, considering what was to come. The tips of his spiky red-brown hair were colored golden blond.
“It’s usually busier when I’m here.” Vance Turner said. “Thanks to Aria I come back and forth here enough!” the lanky man exclaimed. He straightened his glasses, then adjusted his SWAT Cap.
Roderik only rolled his eyes, noticed that his friends looked expectantly at him at mention of Aria’s name. “Any smart remarks Oswald?” He asked, mind still tingled at mention of Aria.
“Nope.” Oswald Knox replied the fourth of the Phoenix Project members from behind coke bottle glasses, which he wore more for their disarming effect then anything else. Who’d think a “nerd” a threat?
“Well, let’s be off.” Vance advanced.
Before they entered the building Roderik stopped to take a closer look at the hourglass shaped DNA emblem embedded in a sign that read: Genetic Konnections Incorporated ’… Rebuilding Mankind at the dawn of the genetic renaissance. Our eyes are forever look toward the Morningstar.’
“Hmm.” Roderik thought to himself as he stroked his goatee.
The three – Kenneth, Oswald, and Vance fell into triangle formation around Roderik. They’d done this since they were kids. It was the Falcanian way when acting as honor guard to the Shotar.
They entered the waiting room outside the lab, his three friends moved aside, but Roderik halted dead in his tracks. The Shotar found himself looking upon something, someone he hadn’t expected to see this evening. A young woman dressed in a purple lengha-choli, and bedecked in a myriad amount of jewelry sat and read what looked to be a Femina Magazine, a woman’s publication that sponsored the Miss India pageant. Her dark brown hair was tied in a thick braid, which she absently twirled between two fingers. A yellow carnation affixed to the base of the braid as decoration.
Up from her magazine she glanced, smiled at the newcomers. Large brilliant-blue almond eyes radiant with a deep intelligence brightened even more at the sight of the four men. A tiny beauty mark adorned her chin and again at the tips of her kajal accented eyes: Three dots set in a triangle. She stood, smoothed the side of her lengha, the movement caused her bangles and assorted baubles to make a clanking sound. Offering the Indian greeting with her touching palms she said. “Nameste’ I’m Nadia Korelia, you must be the people my parents have been expecting.”
Roderik just waited, frozen in place, mesmerized by the girl’s eyes, he blinked a couple of times until Vance elbowed him. “Ah…” He stammered, while realized that he didn’t make the best impression, yet he couldn’t find his ability to talk. “…Yes we, ah we’re from the ‘Phoenix Project’.” He at last managed to get out and took a deep breath which he almost regretted. Inhaling Nadia’s spicy scent laced with jasmine. He felt giddy. This girl had knocked him off-balance. Roderik wasn’t sure that he’d be able to get out the spiel he had planned for the Korelias – not with this striking girl here to sidetrack him.
Nadia continued to grinned, made it even more uncomfortable for him as she got closer, and smiled right in Roderik’s face. “Perhaps we should go into the lab?” She suggested. “My Maa and Papa will want to see you – they’re intrigued by your ideas.” She pulled on Roderik’s hand. Looking over her shoulder she added. “And so am I.”
As she pulled him to the security door the exotic girl glanced over and smiled, tugged a bit more intently on his hand. There was a noticeable twinkle in her kajal-accentuated eyes at notice of the dumb struck look on Roderik’s face. She ran a key card through a slot Nadia then punched in a code, in an instant her French manicured nails danced over the keys. The secure doors slid open.
======================================================================
As you can tell this is actually the first moment Sharr (Roderik) and Nadia meet. A cut scene from On the Forge of War.
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Its Mostly Chocolate…
Français : Truffes Godiva en vitrine de leur magasin de la Rue de Rollebeek, Bruxelles. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I want to pick up on a theme my friend, Samantha Whitney talks about regarding porn vs. plot in her work.
As you all know, I write porn geared toward a specific niche. I did not set out in this whole ebook persuit to, well become a pornographer, but the fact is, sex, and this niche porn sells consistently, therefore I’m going to continue to turn out more of it.
When it comes to writing this kind of fiction, I try to write it as straightforward as possible, that is, these are not character studies, or complex (nor particularly original…) plot lines. In fact, when it comes to plot, I try my best to tap into very familiar, typical fantasies regarding this fetish. It’s not complex storytelling, because it does not need to be. These sorts of stories are supposed to be like opening up a nice box of Godiva chocolate truffles, where you can’t wait to devour them all, in a single sitting, even though you know you should probably keep more for later.
I actually wish that my science fiction work, which is written ten times better, with layers of complexity, and thoughtfulness (though no less ‘racy’) sold itself as well as my porn.
Like I said, don’t expect a complex character narratives, even though I do rather like the characters I’ve created for the Skirt Lifted series, one of which may even bleed over into my Zero story. Generally its setup, tension, and payoff, lots of payoff, without much diversion from the formula.
Not only am I working on the second volume of Skirt Lifted, I’m also planning a 99¢ short, though I have not yet nailed down that story just yet.
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