2010 Will Be Here Sooner Than You Think

Since January of this year I’ve lost forty pounds.  I say that not to break my arm patting myself on the back or solicit praise, but because over the last few months I have finally found the deep well of discipline I thought I might have let run dry.  The effort to get focused and reign in the chaos that surrounds my eating habits has seeped into other areas of my life, particularly my writing.  I used to just grab whatever and I usually ate on the go or at my desk.  I’d often say I didn’t have time to plan or think about what I was going to eat.  Over the last few months, I’ve learned that I do have time. It really doesn’t take all that much effort to think about eating well. I’ve learned to make myself slow down and take a break now and then, to sit down and enjoy a meal.  I’ve actually begun to use real plates…not paper ones! <big snort>

The discipline that I always had, but just didn’t engage, is now becoming a part of my writing routine. Just as I now make the time to walk an hour every day, I set aside the time to write an hour every day. It may just be crap or stream of consciousness, but I’m putting words on a page, and that’s what counts.  You can’t learn to play the piano or the guitar without practice. You can’t learn to write well unless you practice that too.

Naturally there are days when I don’t want to stick to the diet and I’d rather watch TV that walk or write.  The trick I’ve learned, is sticking to a routine, but when I mess up, forgive and move on. As the Holidays approach it will be tempting to fall off the wagon, to eat all that great food, and let writing fall by the wayside.  But when I think about the fact that I’ve already had to buy new clothes three times this year, and when I consider the requests I’ve had for partials and full manuscripts, basically when I see the discipline paying off, that’s my motivation  to stick with the diet and with the writing routine.

I have set two goals for 2010…by Halloween next year (my birthday) I want to shop at Victoria’s Secret without anyone vomiting on the floor. (bigger snort) And I want to have a publishing contract in my hot little hands.

2010 is not that far away.  Have you set your goals yet?

The Sky Is Falling, The Sky Is Falling…

What does digital rights management (DRM) mean? Well, basically DRM is copyright protection. It’s the way that publishers are formatting digital content so that it can’t be copied and distributed without their blessing. DRM is devoted to managing the copyright, distribution and how a consumer interacts with media.  HowStuffWorks puts it this way:

“A digital rights management scheme operates on three levels: establishing a copyright for a piece of content, managing the distribution of that copyrighted content and controlling what a consumer can do with that content once it has been distributed. To accomplish this level of control, a DRM program has to effectively define and describe three entities — the user, the content and the usage rights — and the relationship between them.” (http://computer.howstuffworks.com/drm2.htm)

So why is my sky falling?  Remember when Google began digitizing a lot of books in order to make the content available to online searchers?  Remember the outcry and lawsuits?  What they ended up doing was putting a bunch of books that are in the public domain online, but most books still controlled by publishers will never be searchable by Google.

So, the playing field is shifting.  Now authors are thinking about things… First, I want my book to be sold in eBook format for a myriad of reasons.  Second, eBook formats are ‘protected’ by DRM software.  Since most of the eBook reader manufacturers are not willing to allow for an industry standard, this means a book you buy from Amazon has a different format from one that you buy from Sony online.  I have whined about this before.  I’m still waiting for the publishing industry to standardize the format before I buy an eBook reader.  I don’t want to buy one and then leave it next to my 8 track tape player, my BetaMax and my HD DVD machine.  But I digress.

So imagine my chagrin when I learn that Harlequin announced a new division called Carina Press.  They staffed it with lively, lovely smart woman and turned them loose on the eBook industry.  Their first decision: no advances to their authors, and no DRM.  What?  Is that the stratosphere crashing down on my noggin?  Harlequin, the grand dame of all romance publishers, is abandoning the enforcement of digital copyrights?  I can hardly wrap my brain around this.  I’m still trying to figure out what it means.

It means that the eBooks they distribute will be portable, like regular paperback books.

It means that when you buy an eBook from Carina Press, you’ll be able to move it from your laptop, to your tower in the office, and from there to your handheld device if you so wish.

It means that the publisher is not trying to force some kind of format on a vast majority of disparate hardware and software.

In this case, Harlequin is abdicating from that fray.  Or it appears to be.  It’s launching Carina Press on its own.  That means that they will be buying new content with new contracts.  They can choose whether or not to look at any of the backlist at their discretion.  My bet is that they just move forward with new material and ignore all that has gone before.

But what does that mean for us?  Authors and aspiring writers?  Well, I think it’s all good news.  We’ve seen that the eBook consumers are not willing to pay hardback/paperback prices for an electronic version.  There are many conjectures about this, but from a marketing standpoint, it’s pretty clear.  The average consumer expects to be able to get the eBook on the date the new book is released, and expects the electronic version to be cheap since there is very little that goes into it incremental-cost-wise.

By opting out of the huge battles required to enforce copyright infringement, Harlequin is saving themselves a boatload of money up front.  It releases them from having to aggressively pursue and prosecute infringement issues–if a company does not show that they are trying to stop the copyright infringement, the courts don’t look too kindly upon the cases brought up before them.  Imagine not caring.  Not worrying about it.  Imagine charging for the download and then letting go.  Trusting the consumer to read it and be done with it.

I’m trying to think of a good parallel example.  Here’s one that comes close: you know how every time a movie is released on DVD, someone tells you they saw it a week before online?  That’s because some viewer in China (or fill in the country name here, not the US) hacked the DRM and pirated the movie.  Then they posted it online.  Now the movie company lawyers have to try and hunt down this person in Indonesia (or fill in the country name here, not the US) and shut down the operation.  If they don’t show diligence in trying to enforce their copyrights, then the courts don’t support their claims.  You know how expensive it would be to find the joker who hacked the DRM and pirated your music, DVD or eBook?  It boggles the mind.  It’s a big globe.  Full of smart people and hackers who will try to get past security measures just to prove that they can.

And instead of staying a part of that uphill battle, Carina Press is going to launch an eBook like a dove from their hands… throw it up and say, ‘fly away little file’ and kiss it goodbye.  No worries about hackers.  No lawsuits to pursue.  No international lawyers fees to pay.

What is the upside to my cumulonibus cascade?  Is there a positive to this??  Besides the fact that the publisher won’t be incurring a huge cost?  Yes, I truly think there is a silver lining to this cloud.  If there is no attempt to enable and enforce DRM, then the eBook landscape might just get standardized.  There might be players that can read multiple formats.  I might be able to buy an eBook from Sony that would play on my Kindle.  Or at least, I could buy a book from Carina Press that would play on anything…

I have to thank the gals at Smart Bitches, Trashy Books for talking about the announcement.  All ready the “sky is falling” comments are starting.  Will RWI not recognize Carina Press since they don’t pay advances?  What will happen to our world?  How will this affect romance publishing?  Frankly, I think it’s going to be a good thing.  But only time will tell.

–Sandee Wagner

Back in the day

Next week, I’ll be gathering with a very important group of people.  When I first started writing, it wasn’t romance; it was SF/ST fanfiction.  These were the people who read my stuff and sent feedback.  This was in the days of LOC (Letters of Comment) through what SF fen called “connecting mailboxes”.  I’m not talking about email, but real honest-to-ghod letters.  (In case you’re wondering, no, I’m not misspelling words; I’m using the spellings SF fans use.)

These LOCs were extremely detailed.  They didn’t just cover “Your plot has no conflict.” Nor “What’s your heroine’s motivation?”  Oh, no!  A typical comment might be, “On page six, paragraph three, line nine, you have a colon where you should have a semi-colon.  And that letter might be seven pages, front to back.  Yeah, nothing like an SF fan for detail.

But they taught me.  They taught me GMC though I didn’t know it.  I learned to take critique and to learn from it.  I sharpened up my English skills.  But most of all, I learned the joy of someone reading my work and letting me know they enjoyed it. 

So, these are the people I’m meeting with this next weekend.  Most of them have read at least some of my writing.  A lot of them are voracious readers as well as writers on their own.  And all of them believe in me and my talent.  They don’t read my romances.  I have to admit that they are waiting for me to write a “real” book, which to them is SF or fantasy.  But, they’re there for me when I sell a book or win a contest just as they are there for me when I get rejected or bad reviews.

Just like my sisters in RWI, they fill my well.

Moon Beams

Last Monday when I left work it was after 5:30. There weren’t that many cars on the street and I glanced at the eastern horizon. There, bigger than Dallas, was a big ole’ smiley face moon. Seriously. It appeared as if a smile had been drawn on it. I had to remind myself to keep walking and not stop in the middle of the street.

All the way home, I kept glancing up at that full moon. Now maybe it was my imagination, but I swear it was bigger than normal. It was the kind of moon that makes dogs howl, the kind cats love for prowling, the kind that puts you in the mood for romance.

I’m going to have to write that moon into one of my stories. Hero and heroine stranded out on a deserted road with no flashlight, but that isn’t a problem. It’s so bright they can easily see where they’re going. Except that big ole’ smiley face moon draws them together, enclosing them in a cocoon of love. {You can write it from there.}

I’ve always been drawn to a full moon as if it were magic. As a kid, I always loved to fantasize about the moon and pretend I had special powers when it was full. And the moon we had this week was exceptional. At least I thought so. But maybe that’s just the romantic in me.

So, did y’all see it? What was your reaction? What does a full moon do to you or mean to you? Anything? Or am I the only weird one?

Come on, fess up. Who else likes to go out and howl, or stir magic potions, or cuddle with your sweetie pie?

Beautiful Sunsets

Rember a couple of weeks ago when I was talking about focusing on the positive? And how sometimes all that is good is a beautiful sunset?

I’m there.

How Old Are You?

I’ve been spending a lot of time in the past two months in hospital rooms and doctors’ offices, and let me tell you, nothing makes me feel my age more than that. Have you seen a doctor lately? Have you noticed how young they’re getting? Honestly, my mom’s had docs who look like they haven’t gotten used to shaving yet. They’re bright-eyed, energetic, eager and/or wary, and young young young.

My cute little orthopedic surgeon whom I affectionately call Baby Doc looks about twelve. The anesthesiologist who put me under once for Baby Doc looked and acted like a college frat boy. My primary care doc is just a few years older than my son, and Mom’s internal med guy might see 25 in a year or two.

And it’s not just the doctors. The nurses and, heavens, the aides! So many kids doing such a big job. When did they get so young? Or, heaven forbid, did I get old??

Blackberry Cobbler

On Sunday morning my DH and I ate breakfast at a restaurant decorated with lots of old timey stuff, some of which I’m pretty sure came from estate sales and the rafters of old barns. I’m sure you know what I mean – outdated magazine covers and advertisements featuring Gibson Girls, used farm implements, buckets and pails, and calendars from a by-gone era, hawking seeds that promise to produce record crop yields. Also hanging on the walls were old photographs of men and women taken, judging by the clothing and hairstyles, circa 1890’s.

One particular stern-faced woman stared out at me from a gold framed picture. I couldn’t help but feel that Great Aunt Martha, for that’s how I began to think of her, wasn’t happy about having her portrait hanging in some restaurant. Somehow I knew she felt this was disrespectful of her memory. I knew she’d taken the time to get ready for this photograph. It was a big deal to her, and she’d wanted to look just right. She imagined her picture would hang in the bedroom over the wrought iron bed she shared with Uncle Clyde, or in the narrow hallway of their little farmhouse long after her epitaph read “Gone but not forgotten”. Now, she was gone and her treasured photograph sold off by a family that didn’t even remember who Aunt Martha was.

Seated below Aunt Martha’s portrait was a young couple and a child. The husband, I assumed they were married, wore a plain grey t-shirt, blue nylon running pants that zip up from ankle to calf, and sneakers. Their adorable little guy was dressed just like dad. Mom wore a very tight pink T with matching, equally as tight fitting, sweatpants and white and pink sneakers. And I must say, she had every right to show off the body God, the surgeon, and the gym gave her. She didn’t eat much of the breakfast she was served. She was too busy talking on her Blackberry and texting. That probably explains part of why she had such a cute little figure.

When the couple got up to leave, Aunt Martha’s ghost stepped out of the painting. I found it intriguing rather than frightening. No one else in the restaurant seemed to notice but me. From our seat, I could see Martha follow the young woman to her car. Just before she opened the car door, I saw the young woman jerk as if someone had bumped into her from behind.

I figure sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas, the husband of that young woman will begin to wonder what’s come over his young wife. He might begin to figure out she’s been possessed when he notices she’d become obsessed with keeping the perfect house, when she insists on making her own pie crusts from scratch, and…that blackberries belong in cobblers.

The World Ending in 2012 and I’m Not Okay With That…

We’ve talked about our being optimists or pessimists. I recently lectured a very good friend of mine on his pessimism and how its affecting his teenaged son. Our friend is deeply religious and believes that the Apocalypse is coming–and it’s coming in 2012. I don’t know from what sources he’s drawn this conclusion; however, this is a very smart man and he must have some compelling reason to believe that the end is near.

Faith aside, my belief has always been that if the Rapture comes on a specific day, I’ll have stepped in front of a bus the day before. That’s the kind of luck that I have. I believe that we won’t know when OUR last day on Earth is, and that we have to be ready to face our maker at any time.

But imagine this sixteen year old boy, living in a house where his highly intelligent father warns everyone that the end is coming in 2012… I listened to it for the better part of a week, and then I said something to my friend.  I told him that even if he truly believes that the world is ending–what good does that do a sixteen year old kid?  At this point, if the kid quits doing his homework and starts skipping school, what argument does he expect to get from this kid?  I know what my sons would have said, “why should I worry about school?  I’m not going to graduate anyway.”  Or “who needs to get into college?”  He is basically telling his child that he’ll never live long enough to fall in love, have children, do all the things that adults do in life.  Because the world is going to end.

I think this can damage a kid.  I think that parents are supposed to protect their children from despair and give them hope for a future.  I heard a bit on NPR about the scientists who are studying the Mayan culture.  Their calendar is ending on Dec. 21, 2012.  Lots of folks are looking into the stellar alignments and why the Mayan believed that 2012 would be the end.  Apparently, there is a lot of hype about the world ending in 2012.

I’m not okay with that.

I have things I need to do.  I have books I need to get written.  I have places to go and things to see.  I know part of these beliefs are myths and fallacies.  I know that in my lifetime, there have been several cults who thought they knew the date the world would end.  And who can forget the hullabaloo about the millennium?  Solar flares and meteors threaten us.  Someone is always thinking up a new and different way for us to die a painful death.  When I was young, it was the coming ice age and nuclear winter.  Now it’s global warming and rising sea levels.

I am not okay with that.  I have some stories to tell.  This is beginning to sound like the ultimate deadline.  Maybe I should get writing…

–Sandee Wagner

It’s not my fault! Not completely…

   Okay, I know I’m waaaay late getting my blog up, but I have a good reason…sort of.  With the deadline of the contest yesterday, I’ve spent my last couple of days off trying to input all the judged entries.  Last night, I knew I had this blog due today, but I kept telling myself I’d finish the entries first and then blog.  Alas, the best laid plans…

Everytime I thought I’d finished, another few would show up in my mailbox.  I told myself that I should just ignore them, blog, and go to bed since I was to work today.  Not only work, but dress in a costume (a witch, true type-casting) and making chocolate chip pancakes for our weekly pot luck lunch.  But I kept thinking of those writers.  The ones who trusted their baby to our hands.

See, I still remember when I first entered contest.  Such a scary prospect.  I wondered if they would take care of my baby.  Or would it come back to me with coffee stains all over it.  Would they see the brilliance of the story?  Or would I get back all covered with red ink and a short note to keep my day job.  At first, it astounded me that when I did get back my entry, some very nice people not only had good things to say about my writing, but also helped me fix the sections were I needed help.  Eventually, I got that first “win”…an honorable mention at OWFI.

I guess that’s why I felt that I owed it to those people who helped to “pay it forward” so to speak.  I needed to go over those entries to make sure they were getting the strokes and lessons that I got.  To see that they go all the points they deserved.  And maybe, just maybe on of “my authors” will get a get a chance to have an editor read and buy them.  So I have to admit…I’m not that sorry I’m late.  Besides, I made it, didn’t I?

Spooky?

Are you superstitious? If you spill salt, do you throw a pinch over your shoulder? Will you walk under a ladder or be the first to cross the path of a black cat? What about Friday the 13^th? Does the thought of facing one of those days tempt you to stay home?

I’m sure there are other things that a lot of us won’t readily admit to. Each of us has something we have tucked in our closet that most people would never suspect of you.

Me? Heck, didn’t you know that I’m bass-ackards? One of the reason’s you all love me so much. Right? {snort}

I remember my senior year in high school when we were playing the coaches hometown team for our basketball Homecoming. It was Friday the 13^th. On the way to the game, a black cat ran out of the cemetery and ran directly across my path. (I did tell you I used to play in the cemetery just down the road from my house when I was a kid, didn’t I?)

The coaches team had already beaten us —badly — that year and Coach threatened us with serious death the following Monday if we played “like girls” in order to not muss our hair. (The Queen and her court were all on the team.)

We went into double overtime. They kept fouling me because I was the worst shot, hoping to get the ball back. The girl that was to be crowned queen won the game by scoring the highest game ever for her. We won by 5 points. But it was MY five points.

So yeah, I believe in Friday the 13^th and black cats coming out of cemeteries and even walking under ladders. (As long as I don’t tip them over.)

With Halloween only a couple days away, tell me, what are you superstitious about? i.e. what spooks you?

What’s in YOUR closet?