Hi Folks,

Recently, Amazon did something that appeals a great deal to authors and, oddly enough, it’s caused a minor uproar among… authors.

What did Amazon do? Well, someone on their team decided they should sell more books and make more money so they created the Kindle KDP Select program. For the record, I have several works enrolled and I’ve encouraged some of my clients to enroll their works. It’s called free-market competition, folks. Amazon made a good business choice. Nothing says Barnes & Noble (or for that matter, Apple and the other lesser ebook sellers) can’t do the same thing, and I’m betting they will. Ask Borders what happens when you choose not to compete.

For my money, the bullies in this world are the “big” traditional publishers, who pay authors pennies on a dollar for all their hard work, much of which includes marketing nowadays. When big publishers do decide to put their own marketing behind their really big authors, they buy space in brick and mortar stores in a kind of feeding frenzy, pushing out those who would otherwise compete but are less-well financially heeled. That includes placement on end caps and in “New Arrivals” sections. These are well-known facts. I’m also convinced they buy placement on various best seller lists, including the New York Times Bestseller List (opinion). And that’s just what they do on a regular basis to squelch the competition in paperbacks.

On top of that, big publishing has become schizophrenic, and all because of digital publishing. They’re so threatened by independent publishers and author/publishers that they constantly and roundly deride self-publishing and ebooks with a wide brush in one hand, most often lamenting that self-published ebooks are poor quality. That’s with one hand. With the other, they’re publishing their own ebooks as quickly as they possibly can. But get this—because their ebooks are most often simply scanned into a document, the quality is usually actually LOWER than self-published ebooks. Some letter groups turn into other letter groups, etc. The book is still readable, certainly, but not without considerable effort and not without the reader being pulled from the story several times as he tries to decipher what the publishing gods have managed to put on the page.

The simple fact is, some ebooks are crap. So are some traditionally published books. But consider fair play for just a moment, not that it will ever come to pass—without big publishing’s big mouth and bullying tactics, supply and demand would prevail: good books (and authors) would rise to the surface without regard for source of publication. Readers themselves (gasp!) would actually decide which books are best sellers and which shouldn’t have been published in the first place.

For years the big few have controlled publishing, putting out what they want to put out and snuffing out what they don’t. Very often “quality” wasn’t a factor at all. Now their gatekeeper status has been abolished. The Tyrant is dead; long live the King, and long live our (authors) ability to make and break kings.

‘Til next time, happy writing!

Harvey

Hi Folks,

Spoiler alert—this particular post is not about writing.

As you probably will hear in the tone of this post, I am so annoyed with Walmart I can barely express myself in words. But hand gestures don’t translate well into blog posts, so I’m going to try. For a long time I’ve had in the back of my mind that I should boycott Walmart and encourage others to do so as well for various reasons. You know all those reasons, so I won’t bother enumerating them here. Today, that simmering notion was catapulted to the forefront by a Walmart employee.

I’d spent the better part of an hour moseying the aisles, picking up a few groceries that appealed at the moment to my taste buds and finally making my way to the electronics department. I had in mind a very specific item. I found it. The price was no lower than most other times, but it was exactly what I wanted so I didn’t mind. (There’s an old saying that a woman will pay $10 for something she doesn’t need if it’s half its regular price, and a man will pay $20 for a $10 item if he really needs it or it’s precisely what he wants. I believe, for the most part, that’s true.)

Anyway, I found precisely what I wanted and proceeded to the checkout. The cashier I chose was about 15 feet from the exit door, where stood a woman with a scanner and a yellow highlighter. It’s important to note that she watched as I checked out. She watched the cashier scan each item, place it in the appropriate bag, then set each bag in the shopping cart. She also watched the cashier scan the electronic item and place it back in the cart. At one point her steady gaze caught my attention and I nodded to her. She nodded back and smiled.

The transaction completed, I pushed my cart away from the cashier’s station and toward the exit. The woman who had watched the entire transaction and with whom I had only seconds earlier exchanged a silent greeting, put up one hand:

“Just a moment, Sir. I need to see your receipt.”

“What? Why?”

“Because this is the season when people like to steal things.”

I pointed back in the direction I’d come. “But you just watched me check out. You watched the girl scan this, ring it up and put it in the shopping cart. You watched me pay for it.”

She smiled and held out her hand. “Doesn’t matter.”

I handed her the receipt. That was my only mistake, as I’ll explain shortly.

She closely eyed the numbers on the box containing the electronic item, wrote the last four numerals of the serial number on the receipt, drew a large X on the receipt with her yellow highlighter, then looked at me. “You’re free to go.”

What? I’m free to go? “Sure, whatever,” I said and left, feeling every bit the criminal.

Now I’ve been guilty of many things, but never, not once in my life, have I ever stolen anything. By the time I reached my pickup at the end of the parking lot, I was simmering. I was dressed in jeans and a light sweatshirt, and even with the cold breeze blowing out of the north, I thought I might spontaneously combust.

I loaded my other purchases into my pickup, closed and locked the door, then turned around to wheel the cart back to a parking lot stall. When I got there I retrieved the electronic item, strode back into the store and had the lady at the entrance put a sticker on the box so I could return it.

At the service desk, the girl asked whether anything was wrong with the item.

“No. But the woman at the exit suspected me enough so that I no longer want it.”

She returned my money and I left.

But you will remember I said earlier that handing the woman at the exit my receipt was my only mistake. It was. As is all too often the case, on the way home I realized a couple of basic truths:

Despite what Napolitano and some others would have us believe, we still live in a free country. The woman stationed at the exit in Walmart had no right to detain me. She had a right to say something like “Have a nice day” and then shut her pie hole. If I had it to do over again, when she held up her hand and said, “Just a moment, Sir. I need to see your receipt,” I’d have kept walking. If she’d insisted or tried physically to stop me, I’d have said calmly, “Ma’am, you have no right to detain me. I’ve made a legal purchase and I’m leaving the store. If you would like to call the police, I’ll wait in the parking lot. Your choice.”

Unfortunately, there won’t be a next time, at least not at Walmart.

I don’t allow unreasonable searches (e.g., searches without enough reasonable suspicion to create probable cause) on my person at airports, and I most certainly will not allow unlawful detention in retail stores. I just have a feeling ol’ Sam Walton would be pretty ticked off himself.

‘Til next time, happy writing, and happy holidays.

Harvey

Hi Folks,

A few days ago, a dear friend sent me an email titled Band of Brothers. The contents of the email were addressed to all veterans of the United States military. I forwarded it, almost routinely, to a special email list of men and women who have served in our armed forces. One of those served in both the Marine Corps and the Army, another in both the Navy and Air Force, and another in both the Navy and Army. I heard back from a few men. One mentioned that we who serve share a special knowledge that others do not have. That response was the catalyst for this post and the seed from which it grew.

As my friend wrote, we who served, no matter where or how, share a special knowledge. That knowledge is borne of first-hand experience with the concepts of Duty and Honor. We are unable to explain it to others and we don’t need to explain it among ourselves. It includes both a deep sense of our nation and a profound sense of ourselves, who we are, and what we were and are willing to sacrifice. As another friend wrote to me awhile back, “The world is full of nightmares for the warrior class. Our burden is also our adventure, and what sometimes keeps us from sleeping nights also enables us to stand straight and proud when others slouch with the uncertainty of who or what they are.”

Of course, as some would point out and as we freely admit, we brought “what sometimes keeps us from sleeping nights” on ourselves. We made a conscious decision to surrender our own claim to what some consider the high moral ground and the pervasive sense of self-righteousness that seems to accompany it. We chose a more rigorous and costly path, making ourselves available to perform the sometimes ugly, filthy, mind-shattering but necessary work that keeps the bad guys at bay and enables others to remain free and clean without being shot at. I have to imagine it would be easy to claim that high moral ground, to simply decide to forego even the possibility of harming another human being, so long as others are keeping the bad guys at bay. Maybe it isn’t so easy. I don’t know.

Fortunately, our society is not made up of only those who served in the armed forces and those who claim for themselves the absolutes of that high moral ground. There also exist what I hope is the vast majority of our citizens, those who love this country enough to put the nation above themselves when push comes to shove. They serve as well, teaching our children, delivering and maintaining goods and services, protecting our communities, and so on. Some are veterans of the armed forces, of course, for a human being is a great deal more than what he does at a particular time, and some are not. Folks from that segment of our society also eschewed the high moral ground and shoved a plane into a field in Pennsylvania on 9-11-2001. I salute them as well.

Serving in the armed forces of the United States of America changes a person. As my friend wrote, it sometimes keeps us from sleeping nights, but it also enables us to stand straight and proud and to see more clearly our nation and ourselves. And it changes forever our concept and definition of “high moral ground.” It changes forever our knowledge.

This is to wish all of my fellow United States Marines a happy 236th birthday today, and my fellow service members in the United States Navy, United States Army, United States Air Force, and United States Coast Guard a quiet, memory-filled Veteran’s Day tomorrow. For all of you, a toast: May your days be vibrant, your evenings calm, your heart safe and warm at home.

Semper Fi,
Harvey Stanbrough
MSgt, USMC (Retired)

Hi Folks,

This topic comes about as a result of my having recently revised my freelance editor guidelines concerning what I will or will not accept for even a free sample edit. Those guidelines now read

If you’re serious about the craft of writing, for a free sample edit, send your complete manuscript via email attachment in MS Word (.docx, .doc, or .rtf) to h_stanbrough@yahoo.com.

• Novel, memoir or short fiction collections only, please
• Absolutely NO rough drafts
• Absolutely NO stage-direction, present-tense narrative, regardless of genre or which fad is in fashion today
• Absolutely NO manuscripts replete with spelling errors, comma splices and/or run-on sentences
• I reserve the right to reject any manuscript for any reason

Because I’m being so prickly over comma splices and run-on sentences, I thought it would be only fair for me to explain to you what those are. Many writers believe they know what a comma splice is or what a run-on sentence is, but most often, I was surprised to discover, they are wrong. So are many English teacher.

To understand comma splices and run-on sentences, you must first understand the independent clause.

First of all, to be a clause at all a group of words must contain a subject, either actual or implied, and a verb. The subject does something, and the verb it what the subject does. If a clause makes sense by itself, it’s called an independent clause. An independent clause is also a simple sentence:

• Roy smiled.

If you combine two or more independent clauses in one sentence, you are supposed to connect them with either a comma and a coordinating conjunction (see my earlier blog post on FANBOYS) or with a semicolon:

• Roy smiled, and Tiffany winked.
• Roy smiled; Tiffany winked.

Sometimes, because you don’t want to make the reader pause, you can omit the comma and use only the coordinating conjunction:

• Roy smiled and Tiffany winked.

That’s fine, but if you combine those independent clauses with nothing but a comma, you’ve created a comma splice:

• Roy smiled, Tiffany winked.

And if you combine them with nothing at all, you’ve created a run-on sentence:

• Roy smiled Tiffany winked.

Of course, most comma splices and run-on sentences are much longer than the examples above. I’ll provide a few more examples shortly, but first let me explain that a run-on sentence is not simply a very long sentence. Writers, writing instructors and even English teachers alike have mentioned to me before that a sentence like the following is a run-on sentence. It is not:

• Standing at home plate, Roy smiled, then hit the pitch over the left-field fence, through the trees, past the small creek, down the hill and over a short stretch of beach into the Pacific ocean.

This example is neither a run-on sentence (despite its length) nor a comma splice (despite the number of commas involved). It’s actually a simple sentence. The subject is Roy and the verb is a compound verb: smiled and hit. The word pitch is the direct object, and it’s followed by six prepositional phrases.

Here are some more examples of real-life run-on sentences. If you were the editor, where would you stop one sentence and begin the next? Now imagine a manuscript chock full of these:

• Some of the tourists wore beautifully colored shirts as they passed she could sense their happiness.
• I love to ski in the winter the mountain sometimes receives six feet of snow.
• He smiled and waved as he stepped from the plane he tripped and fell to the tarmac.

The biggest problem with this sort of construction, of course, is that it’s confusing to no end. Only the writer knows his or her intent, and if an editor stops every time to email the writer, have him or her look up a particular passage, and tell the editor where the two clauses should be separated, editing one manuscript takes much longer and the editor’s wage falls to practically nothing. So the editor does the best he can and chokes back the frustration.

You’re reading this, so you’re ostensibly a writer. Okay, so learn your craft. You’re here, and you can learn a great deal from these blog posts, so that’s something positive. I also strongly recommend my Writing the World seminars (see the WTW Seminars tab), which I’m now teaching in three different venues (Tucson, Willcox and Green Valley) in southeast Arizona. And sure, I’ll even recommend other writing instruction as long as the instructor really knows what he or she is talking about. (Hint: If any writing instructor, even I, ever tell you “Well, I can’t exactly explain it but I know it when I see it,” run away and for God’s sake don’t give him or her anymore of your money. A writing instructor should be able to explain any concept he or she brings up.) And finally, invest in some good books and manuals. I can personally vouch for and recommend my own Punctuation for Writers and Writing Realistic Dialogue & Flash Fiction. (If you want the paper versions of those, you can buy them from me directly or online through Amazon.com.) I have several shorter, one-subject works for sale as well, but if you attend my seminars you’ll get those free with your registration.

You don’t have to pay me to learn the craft of writing, though I certainly won’t steer you wrong. In fact, you don’t have to pay anyone to teach you the craft of writing, but make no mistake: it is a craft and it does take a great deal of diligent practice and study to learn to apply it well. A plumber wouldn’t think of slapping together two pipes without some sort of sealer and joint; a carpenter would never join two pieces of wood without first creating the right kind of joint or applying the appropriate fastener or glue; a writer absolutely should not attempt to slap two clauses together in a way that confuses the reader.

Now, if you’d rather not send your literary children toddling out into the cold, cruel world where red-eyed, angry editors are waiting with bared teeth behind practically every tree and bush, here’s how to keep from embarrassing yourself: Read Your Work Aloud. In almost every case, reading your work aloud will illustrate to you where you need a period instead of a comma, or where you need a comma and a coordinating conjunction, or where you might want to slip a semicolon snugly into place. Please. I’m begging you. Read your work aloud.

Okay, that’s probably more than enough for this time. Happy Hallowe’en, and until next time, happy writing!

Harvey

Hi Folks,

In my years of dealing with writers, I’ve heard a few clichéd thoughts. By far the most prevalent was some version of “Oh, I’m not into writing for the money.” Now perhaps it’s just my perception—I actually hope it’s just my perception—but something in the tone and attitude of those writers indicate that they somehow believe they’re above it all, that writing for money somehow might taint the purity of the act of creation. And for me, at least, it begs the question, “Then why do you write?”

I’m certain there are many legitimate reasons for someone to write without expecting monetary compensation. Let me separate them into two groups: Group One, those who say aloud that they do not write for money but who spend an inordinate amount of time and money on learning and honing the craft of writing; and Group Two, those who admittedly do not write for money but also do not invest much of their own time or money. Okay, everyone in Group Two, you can go home now. Enjoy the rest of your day. If you’re in Group One, or if you write in the hopes of making a living at it, please hang around.

Why did I release Group Two to enjoy other pursuits? Because I see no reason to take them seriously as writers, nor would they expect me to. I don’t expect them to contract for my editing services, for example, or to attend my writing seminars, and if they did, I would encourage them to spend their money on something that’s more important to them. Perhaps they write stories for their children occasionally, when the mood strikes them, or perhaps they fire off an occasional letter to the editor. They honestly, seriously, legitimately aren’t in it for the money, and they see no reason to invest time and money learning a craft from which they expect no return. I applaud them.

However, as a professional writer and editor and writing instructor, I’m curious as to the reasoning of Group One. If they aren’t in it for the money—meaning they don’t expect to make a living with their writing, not meaning they wouldn’t snatch up a check if it were offered—why do they spend money on writing books and conference fees and workshops and seminars and writing group dues? (Note: If you don’t, you’re part of Group Two, not Group One, and you should already be out playing somewhere.) Why spend valuable time honing a skill they don’t intend to use seriously? And if they do intend to hone their skills and use them seriously, then why shouldn’t they fully expect to be paid?

Well, okay. There are exceptions to most everything, and I can lay my mind on one or two reasons a writer might be serious about her writing (serious enough, at least, to want to hone her craft) without expecting much in the way of monetary compensation. Perhaps she’s writing solely to leave a legacy—for example, perhaps a memoir or a family history—so her descendants will have a record. Perhaps she’s compiling a poetry collection or a short story collection of tales that she’d like her descendants to read. And perhaps, so she can present her writings in their best possible form, she passes them through a freelance editor or attends a writing workshop or two. That’s perfectly understandable. I also know that some folks love learning for learning’s sake.  But as to everyone else in Group One, I’m just stuck. Seriously, when’s the last time you heard a lawyer or a doctor or a woodworker or plumber or mechanic or plasterer or fireman or police officer or teacher or anyone in any profession other than “writer” say they aren’t in it for the money?

Perhaps the question we should be asking is, “What is a writer?” After all, a painter paints, a plasterer plasters, a doctor tends to our physical ills, a dentist takes care of our teeth, a mechanic repairs our automobiles, an accountant makes sense of numbers, and a teacher teaches. All of those professionals practice their profession day by day. It stands to reason, then, that a writer is someone who writes day by day. Maybe now I’m getting closer to an answer. Maybe my original antagonist isn’t into writing for the money because she isn’t actually a writer. Maybe she’s just a person who writes, sometimes, sort of. Maybe she should save her money and switch to Group Two.

Back to the original premise, I’m still stymied. Maybe “I’m not into writing for the money” is just something some folks say because they don’t believe in themselves or they don’t believe their writing will ever be good enough or they just can’t think of anything else to say. Maybe they throw money at writers’ conferences so they can go home later and say, “Hey look, I’m a writer.” Maybe, as I mentioned earlier, they really do just feel that they are legitimate writers but that they are also somehow above it all, that writing for money would somehow taint the purity of the act of creation. I really just don’t know.

How about you? Why do you write?

‘Til next time, happy writing (or whatever you most enjoy doing).

Harvey

Editor’s Note:

Hi Folks,

Ross Lampert wrote a guest post for me titled “An Easy Way to Read Blogs: Subscribe.” We were unable to figure out how to put the post on here with the screenshots he included so that it would be both informative and attractive, so instead I’m posting the link below. Please click it to see Ross’ post. I hope you’ll find it both informative and entertaining.

Here’s the link: An Easy Way to Read Blogs–Subscribe

Best,
Harvey

Hi Folks,

Primarily, I’m posting this to test my new subscriber list service. I’ll also send notice of this post to everyone on my WTW list. If those of you who are subscribed receive it twice, then all is well.

But as long as I’m testing, I figured I might as well make the post at least a little bit useful. Did you notice I started the previous sentence with “But,” thereby making it a sentence fragment rather than a stand-alone sentence? It’s actually a subordinate clause,  dependent for its “sense” on the passage that came before it.

We would never dream of using a sentence fragment in scholarly writing, of course, but they are necessary in fiction, especially to help convey the natural, everyday rhythms of speech in dialogue. We also use sentence fragments in creative nonfiction, most often to more plainly or more blatantly convey a point, or to emphasize a point.

You all know I’m a freelance editor. One of the corrections I have to make most often has to do with sentence fragments. I’d be willing to bet good money that a hefty majority of writers believe a comma should come immediately after “But” in the first sentence of the second paragraph of this post. Not that any of you mentally inserted a comma as you read it, but most writers, had they written that sentence themselves, would have written “But, as long as I’m testing….” And if you’d sent it to me for editing, I’d have removed it.

It isn’t your fault. Neither, however, does anyone actively teach that you’re supposed to put a comma after a coordinating conjunction—ever. I suspect back in school when teachers were drilling the “rules” of sentence structure and punctuation into your brain housing, she said you should use a “comma and a coordinating conjunction to join two independent clauses and create a compound sentence.” And yes, that’s true, sometimes. And now when you use a coordinating conjunction—for, and, nor, but, or, yet, so (FANBOYS)—you remember vaguely that you absolutely must use a comma somewhere, and since you’re using the coordinating conjunction to begin a sentence and nothing can come before the first word of a sentence, it stands to reason that the comma must occur after it.

No! Bad writer! Although putting a comma after a coordinating conjunction will earn you an A for initiative, it will also get you an F- or even a G for annoying your editor. And if that doesn’t bother you, at least take pity on your would-be readers, who, having finally grown weary of being forced to pause when there’s no reason for it, leave you in droves.

If you’d like to hear a great deal more about what’s annoyed me over the past twenty years as an editor—all of it will help your writing, I assure you—plan to join me this Saturday in Tucson at my Self-Editing for Writers seminar. For information, go to my Events page. But if you want to register, please email me at h_stanbrough@yahoo.com so I can save a place for you.

If you’re a subscriber, please take a moment to let me know you received this. If you aren’t yet a subscriber, please take a moment to visit my website at http://harveystanbrough.com and subscribe. You even get a free ebook.

‘Til next time, happy writing!

Harvey

Hi Folks,

This will be a short post, but it’s very important information. It’s important enough that I’m interrupting an edit to post this. Lately I’ve been literally inundated with questions from folks about epublishing, and most of them are based on false assumptions.

The latest was only a few minutes ago. In an email from a friend, she asked whether I knew anyone who could convert her Word document to .epub “so I can publish it with Smashwords.” That’s the erroneous assumption: that you have to convert your Word .doc to ANYthing in order to publish it as an ebook. YOU  DON’T! Okay, so I’m gonna bust a few epublishing myths right here, right now. The first one will look especially familiar:

1. I have to format my work as a .mobi or .epub file before I can send it to Amazon or Barnes & Noble (or Smashwords).

No. You can send your properly formatted Word .doc to Smashwords, Amazon and Barnes & Noble. Amazon converts your Word .doc into a Kindle (.mobi) file. B&N converts your Word .doc into an .epub file (which you can then download free), and Smashwords converts your Word .doc into several eformats. I also provide a service in which I prep your Word .doc so it goes smoothly through Smashwords conversion process. For information on that, please see http://harveystanbrough.com/services. If you’d rather do it yourself, you can download my new book, The Essentials of Digital Publishing. During checkout, use coupon code WG36Z and get $2 off.

2. Amazon is the best place to sell ebooks.

No, Amazon is one place to sell ebooks. It makes sense to work for a few sales in a lot of venues rather than hoping for a lot of sales in a few venues. If your ebook is for sale only at Amazon, that’s three venues—Amazon US & Canada, Amazon UK and Amazon DE—and your work is available only on devices that read .mobi or .prc files. If you publish it through Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Smashwords (which distributes to Apple, Sony, Kobo, Diesel and ScrollMotion), it automatically sells through about 30 venues and is available on literally every reading device and in every electronic format.

3. My electronic book has to have an ISBN.

No. Amazon assigns an Amazon Standard Identification Number (ASIN), and Barnes & Noble assigns a BN ID number.

Because some of Smashwords’ partners require an ISBN, if you add “the Smashwords Edition of” to the front matter of your ebook and include Smashwords’ License Note, Smashwords will assign a completely free ISBN for you. (If I format your Word .doc for epublishing, I return to you one document for submission to Smashwords and one for submission to Amazon and Barnes & Noble.)

4. Ebooks are a passing fad.

Nope. Today 14% of American households have at least one dedicated ereader. That doesn’t include Kindle- or Nook- or Apple-enabled telephones or computers that can read PDF files through Adobe Acrobat Reader, and it doesn’t include the free ereaders you can download to your PC or Mac. Dedicated ereaders are actual Kindle or Nook readers, iPads, and the various tablets. Additionally, earlier this year Amazon announced that ebook sales had surpassed paper book sales for the first time in its history.

My own work has been published in three ways: traditionally, through POD, and now through ebooks. I’ve sold more copies and made more money since January of this year than I made on all my paper book sales since the mid-1990s.

5. I have to wait for my publisher or my publisher doesn’t publish ebooks.

No, you don’t. Simply retain all ebook rights (all electronic rights) and publish the ebook version yourself. Even if you’re self-pulishing, which can take a month or more from contract to having the books in your hand, you can have your ebook published within a few hours.

6. I’ll have to do all the marketing myself.

Yes, but you have to do all the marketing yourself even with a traditional publisher.

7. I can’t get my ebooks into brick & mortar bookstores, and I can’t sign my ebooks or sell them at book fairs.

Yes, you can. I’ve come up with a way. If you’re interested, leave a comment and/or email me. You can also come see for yourself at my seminars or at the upcoming Santa Cruz Valley Chapter of the SSA Holiday Book Fair in Green Valley on December 3.

8. Ebook selling prices are too low compared with paper books.

Yes, but the royalty rate is much higher. Even if you get a whopping 10% royalty on your print book, for every $14.95 sale you’ll make only $1.49. On the other hand, for every $5.99 ebook sale, you’ll make $4.67 (78%) royalty. I know because these are the prices and royalty rates of my book, Writing Realistic Dialogue & Flash Fiction, in paper and eformat.

9. You have to have a dedicated ereader to read ebooks from Amazon or Barnes & Noble.

No, you don’t. You can download a free ereader for your PC or Mac so you can read .mobi (Amazon Kindle) files and .epub (Apple and B&N Nook) files right on your computer. On the right column of this page under Resources for Writers, look for “FREE” ereaders. You can also find a lot of other neat stuff there. Browse awhile.

Okay, there you go. PLEASE share this information with your friends.

‘Til next time, happy writing and publishing!

Harvey

Hi Folks,

Time to play a little catch-up here, maybe let you know what’s going on over here on my side of the San Pedro.

Spent an enjoyable day in Willcox yesterday teaching my first double seminar there. I was supposed to begin with a brand-new seminar—Self-Editing for Writers—followed by lunch, and then Writing Great Beginnings in the afternoon. But as it turned out, I’d come up with a new (to me, at least) way to actually display and sell my ebooks in brick and mortar stores, and to actually sign my ebooks at book fairs and signings.

Well, the concept excited me so much that I made an impromptu presentation to those hardy Willcox attendees, and they seemed to like it. Anyway, that postponed the “real” seminar by about an hour. To reward the attendees for putting up with me—and, I admit, to give them a glimpse at what an ebook can be and to do just a tad of self-promotion for yours truly—I gave each of them a “book card” containing the URL and coupon code where they could then go online and download Punctuation for Writers free of charge. (Okay, free of further charge… after all, they’d already paid to attend the seminar.) And because I was in a good mood and they’re such a great audience, I also gave each of them another book card, which they can use to download a free copy of The Well, a 5-story collection I published a few months ago. (Gotta admit, I’m hoping for a few good reviews off of that one.)

So see? If you come to my seminars, sometimes you get free stuff. More importantly, when you attend you discover (no doubt to your never-ending joy) that my seminars are absolutely filler free and contain just enough self-promo to convince you I actually have a clue what I’m talking about. I dare say nobody has ever left one of my seminars without learning something new or being reminded of something they believe, maybe, they might possibly have known at one time and forgot… perhaps. As a value-added bonus, unlike many wannabe instructors and alleged instructors and so-called instructors out there

1. I do not spend a half-hour (or any time really) name dropping.
2. I do not offer just a few main points and then drone on about those ad nauseam. I’d rather give you too much than too little.
3. I do not present a concept and, when asked what it means, reply with something like “I can’t explain it, but I know it when I see it.
4. I do not overcharge. Most of my seminars are around $10 per hour, usually with a discount added if you attend two in one day.
5. Perhaps most importantly, I do not pass along bad information, and (see #3 above) I will explain to your satisfaction why what I tell you is valid.

And here are a few positives:

1. I do provide a student handout and/or a free ebook. Okay, and now and then I go nuts and give away stuff.
2. I do cram everything I know about a given topic into every seminar I present. You deserve nothing less.
3. I do explain every concept I introduce. If I say “Show, don’t tell,” I also explain precisely HOW to “Show, don’t tell.” If I say “try to avoid passive voice or passive construction,” I explain precisely what constitutes passive voice or passive construction (hint: it has nothing to do with “had” or “ing words” [gerunds], and a state-of-being verb does NOT automatically render passive voice).
4. I do establish venues that are as convenient as possible for the attendees. I’m currently offering seminars in Willcox, Tucson and Amado.
5. Perhaps best of all, I do actually guarantee my seminars. At the end of a seminar, if you don’t believe it was worth your money, see me privately and ask for your check or cash back and I will return it to you.

I mentioned that I’m teaching in Willcox, Tucson and Amado. That’s three out of the four Saturdays in most months, but if you would like me to establish a venue in your town (ahem… Sierra Vista? Douglas?) send me an email at h_stanbrough@yahoo.com and we’ll talk.

Now, if you’d like to see my seminar topics, please check out WTW Seminar Topics. If you’d like to see the venues and the current schedule, please take a look at Events. If you’d like to be added to my WTW Seminar List for Amado, Tucson or Willcox, please email me at h_stanbrough@yahoo.com and put Add WTW in the subject line. Be sure to let me know which venue you’re interested in attending.

Finally, if you haven’t yet, I hope you’ll subscribe to this blog. (See the email subscription form to the right.) Most of the time I post things that are of value to writers and self-publishers, and if you subscribe, you get a free ebook. What could be better than that? No, seriously! Also be sure to check out the Resources for Writers links on the right side of the page. Some invaluable stuff there. (If you know more, please email me.) Oh, and for goodness’ sake, while you’re sitting there at the computer, drop by CantinaTales.com and visit with Juan-Carlos Salazár, storyteller and keeper of the cantina in the fictional village of Agua Rocosa. I’d bet money you’ll like him, and I know he’ll like you. Oh, and if you subscribe over there, you get a free short story too. Juan-Carlos insisted.

Okay, now I gotta go mow the yard or something. And it’s Sunday so there’s always football and other spiritual pursuits. Thanks for joining me today.

‘Til next time, happy writing.
Harvey

PS: If you subscribe to either of my blogs via RSS feed instead of email, please email me and let me know, and I’ll send you the appropriate freebie!

Hi Folks,

This is a revised essay that I originally posted back in September 2009.

When my friend Denise commented on my previous post and mentioned critique groups, she reminded me of a group I facilitated when I lived in Roswell NM many years ago. On the surface, forming and participating in a critique group seems an excellent idea, and it can be. As I mentioned in my brief response to Denise, I’m a strong advocate of any critique group that 1) has not degenerated into a mutual-admiration society and 2) has safeguards in place against a piece of work eventually being written by committee. (Okay, I said that a little differently in my response, but it’s the same idea. If the other writers in a critique group primarily want to change the writing to reflect the way they would have done it, and if the target writer feels obligated to take their advice, that’s writing by committee.)

With the ongoing popularity of critique groups (one correspondent is “offended” by the negative connotation of critique and prefers the term writing group), finding one is no longer the problem it was in years past. Finding a good one, though, might be a different matter. I’m a strong advocate of critique groups, but only those that are composed of writers who are serious about improving their writing skills. So what makes a good critique group? Take a look at the list below:

1. Pick a group that has a conscientious facilitator who will steer the participants to honesty in their critiques. A critique group without a facilitator usually will degrade quickly into a mutual-admiration society, a group in which flattery is trump. A “be nice to me and I’ll be nice to you” atmosphere certainly causes the participants to feel good about themselves but it also leaves them wondering about the quality of their writing.

2. Limit the size of the group according to the length of time you are able to meet. For example, there were ten participants in my critique group, but we met for two hours every other week. Each participant had time to read his or her work and receive the criticism of the other participants.

3. Only one person at a time is the writer in the group. If you aren’t reading your work to the others, you’re serving only as a reader/listener. Don’t endeavor to change the person’s writing to fit your style. Rather, point out places where the story stumbles or stalls, where you feel you don’t know enough (or where you know too much) about a character or a scene, where confusion creeps in, and so on.

4. Don’t “require” everyone to read every time. Everyone can be an active, valuable participant without reading at every meeting. Some people will want to read every time, and others won’t. However, the members all should be serious about writing. To maintain membership in the group, I suggest that everyone should be encouraged to submit something for critique—even if it’s only one poem or one stanza or one scene from a novel or memoir—at least every other meeting if you meet monthly or every third meeting if you meet more often. Notice I said “encouraged,” not forced. However, non-participation should be grounds for dismissal from the group, especially if there’s a waiting list of folks who are serious about the craft of writing and would like to join. (See 2 above.)

5. Be honest in your critiques. This is the most important feature of a good critique group. After the first session or two, any hurt feelings will subside and those who prefer the mutual-admiration society will have dropped out. The participants who remain will begin to trust each other and appreciate the honest feedback. And when acceptance letters and checks begin replacing rejection letters, they’ll appreciate it even more. Besides, “honest” is not synonymous with “hurtful.”

6. Always provide positive critiques. But didn’t I just say you should be honest? That’s right, so when you point out what you believe is a flaw in someone’s writing, make it a positive critique by offering a recommendation for improvement. Remember, though, that you’re trying to help the writer improve his or her work, not make it your own. Besides, you should point out the bright spots as well as the flaws.

7. Don’t bring a first draft to your group. Instead, follow what is probably the oldest and most sage advice ever given to writers: put that first draft away for a few days, then revise, rewrite, and polish. Bring what you believe is the finished version to the group. Respect the other writers. They are not crash-test dummies.

8. Perform “blind” readings. If honest critique is the most important feature of a good critique group (and it is), performing blind readings is surely a close second. Although this advice goes against the common practice of most critique groups, I’ve found that the author should not provide copies of her work for the other participants. Instead of trying to read along with the reader, during a blind reading the other participants are able to listen attentively, noting on a pad any passages that confuse them, stop them cold, or impress them. They might also note passages that either bog the story down or move it along too quickly. Once the author is finished, each participant offers his or her critique. Blind reading lessens the chance of participants “parroting” each other and leads to a more honest, constructive critique. It also forces the reader to read his or her work aloud, and that is always a good thing.

9. The facilitator should avoid influencing the other participants’ opinions. To do so, the facilitator should offer his or her critique last.

10. Don’t “preview” the work you’re about to read to the group. Let the work stand on its own. If you feel the story needs a setup or an explanation, chances are it should be in your desk drawer awaiting rewrite.

11. Don’t argue with critiques as they’re offered. This is a non-productive waste of valuable time. Besides, you should respect the opinions of the participants as listeners; that is, don’t expect more from them than they can give. If they were experts, they probably wouldn’t be in the group.

12. Consider every participant’s critique. You should neither automatically accept nor reject any critique. What one listener likes, another will dislike; what one finds believable, another will find ridiculous. Carry the critiques home with you, then use or discard them at your leisure. As a rule of thumb, though, if you hear the same critique from more than one participant (after a blind reading), you probably should consider it more seriously.

Overall, critique groups are a paradox. Few group interactions can be as rewarding as a good critique group or as destructive as a bad one. Fortunately, which group you belong to is your choice. You need answer only one question: How important is your career as a writer? That’s what I thought. So if you’re already a member of a group and if the group isn’t working well for you, consider bringing these ideas to the attention of the facilitator; if you aren’t a member of a group yet, choose wisely. After all, it’s your career.

‘Til next time, Happy Writing!
Harvey

Hi Folks,

This will perhaps be a bit of a rant. Do you intend to use a freelance editor? By that I mean, do you intend to find a freelance editor, sample his skills via a free or paid sample edit, then elect to pay a few to several hundred dollars for his services to make your manuscript shine like a freshly polished mahogany table? Hmmm? Is that your intention? Then Take Your Editor’s Advice!

I don’t know five people who, having paid hundreds or thousands of dollars for a professional opinion from a doctor or lawyer, will then reject that opinion and explain, “Well, I asked my friend who works folding clothes down at the dry cleaners and she disagreed with you, so I’m gonna take her advice instead.” But I—and I suspect most other professional freelance editors—hear precisely that sort of statement on a regular basis. To me, of course, such an attitude simply doesn’t make sense. I mean, why pay hundreds of dollars for an opinion from a professional, and then simply dismiss it in favor of the opinion proffered by the guy at the local carwash?

Now I can almost hear some of you, and you’re right. The guy at the local carwash might be an avid reader and his opinion definitely should count. And the gal who folds clothes at the dry cleaner for a living also might be an avid reader and her opinion should count as well. But y’know what? I don’t care. The fact is, every reader out there will have a different opinion, and if you keep changing your manuscript to suit the whims of each reader you meet, you’ll never publish it.

On the other hand, a professional freelance editor takes upon himself the task of polishing your manuscript so it will read as smoothly as possible, so it will appeal to the broadest possible range of readers and so it will risk offending or confusing the smallest possible number of readers. In other words, the professional freelance editor’s opinion is much much more than just an opinion. Like the doctor’s or lawyer’s opinion, it is an educated, informed opinion, hard won over years of training and/or manuscript battles and seeing first-hand what works and what doesn’t. And if you trust your doctor, lawyer, therapist or freelance editor enough to actually pay him for his services, then you should accept that opinion, subject to your right to ask questions.

Besides, despite what Johnny Carwash or Becky Drycleaner says, they’re trusting You, the writer, to give them something to read that won’t constantly trip them as they’re trying to get through it. And guess what? That’s where the freelance editor comes in.

Now, a disclaimer—I really do understand that if you give me a brand-new, uncreased $1000 bill in exchange for plying my skills as an editor to polish your manuscript, there’s an unspoken agreement: I have no right to tell you what to do with the edit just as you have no right to tell me what do to with the $1000. I guess what bothers me is that when the author rushes the book to publication and bad reviews start coming in, she’s quick to tell everyone I edited her book for her… never mind that she rejected 75 or 80 percent of my edits.

Sigh. Guess I’ll get back to work. Just, you know, use what you pay for, would’ya?

‘Til next time, happy writing.

Harvey

Hi Folks,

This will just be a brief post today to clarify some misunderstandings and maybe even pass along some information that might be new to some of you.

Despite the misleading title of this post, you don’t have to choose between paper or plastic when it comes to publishing your work. In fact, even Dean Wesley Smith (see Blogroll) advocates going to print with novels and short fiction collections of tens stories or more. But I’m hearing more and more from folks who seem to think they have to publish on paper “first” or that if they self-publish, the publisher they choose has the right to publish the electronic editions of their book as well.

Okay, first, IF you’re stuck on the idea of publishing on paper and IF you’ve decided to go with a so-called “vanity” publisher (why shouldn’t you invest money in your dreams?) and pay to have your work published, I strongly recommend against ALL of the big-name vanity publishers. Every one of them advertise being able to do things for you that nobody else would do, like setting you up with a free Facebook account (all Facebook accounts are free) or doing a major mailing campaign to help promote your book (few things will tick off a reader more quickly that receiving junk mail from one of these publishers). So IF you decide to go with print publishing and pay for publication, I recommend going with BookLocker (see Resources). I recommend none of the others. BookLocker is the least expensive of all of them and they do a great job.

But you don’t have to go with paper publishing at all. In some ways, when you publish on paper you’re tying your own hands if you plan to sell many copies. You have to promote, after all, and the best way to promote paper books is face to face, eye to eye contact with the public. That means setting up and traveling to book signings, book fairs, conferences, conventions, etc. Your expenses, which will accrue much more rapidly than you expect, will include travel expenses (plane or train fare or gas), lodging, and most importantly, TIME. You will spend HOURS traveling, more hours standing around chatting with potential buyers, and gladhanding bookstore managers. When you get home at the end of the day or a few days or a week, you’ll find you’ve sold 20 or 30 books… or 10… or 4… or none. And if you’re traditionally published, you’ll make a whopping 6 to 10% royalty on each sale. More on this in a few minutes. Of course, if you’re self-published you get a larger royalty, but you also still have to charge a lot for your books, so fewer people will be inclined to buy them.

In my own experience, my work has been traditionally published (10% royalty), self-published on paper (35% royalty), and now I publish almost exclusively with ebooks (35% to 80% royalty). And the ebooks are priced a lot lower so I sell a LOT more of them. Consider, as I wrote to a friend earlier today…

I always sell a lot of my print books (a lot being more than 5 or so) after I speak at a conference. When I attend a book fair, I stand around for 4 to 6 hours, chatting and smiling and making nice with people and sometimes I sell 1 book or 4 or 5 or zero. And all the time I spend driving to/from the venue is unproductive time, as is the money I have to spend on gas, lodging (when applicable), etc.

If I drove cross country from Indiana to Tucson to speak at the Wrangling with Writing conference (which I did a few times) and stopped along the way to gladhand managers and sign stock in bookstores, then spoke at the conference and drove all the way back, again stopping along the way to promote my books, during the WHOLE TRIP I might sell 5 or 10 books, maybe 20. For each book sold I made $1.29 or $1.49 royalty (10%). Of course, that wasn’t even close to paying for my gas, time on the road, etc.

Now, with my ebooks, I sell four or five (or more) every day AND I make a 35% to 80% profit (royalty) on each sale. Here’s a comparison with my books that folks know the best:

• When I sell a copy of Punctuation for Writers (print) for $12.99, I get $1.29 from the sale. Because the price is high, I sell few.
• When I sell a copy of Punctuation for Writers (ebook) for only $4.99, I get $3.74 from the sale. Because the price is low, I sell many.
• When I sell a copy of Writing Realistic Dialogue & Flash Fiction (paper) for $14.99, I get $1.49 (75%) from the sale. High price, low sales.
• When I sell a copy of Writing Realistic Dialogue & Flash Fiction (ebook) for only $5.99, I get $4.79 (80%) from the sale. Lower price, higher sales.

Selling paper books, to me, is just bad math.

Now, I’m as nostalgic as the next guy, and I do enjoy the feel of the paper and the smell of the ink. Then again, money is made of paper and ink too. I’m sticking with ebooks, although you will be able to also buy my longer short story collections and novels in paper if you don’t mind spending the extra money.

Right now, for example, you can buy Six Years in May: Thirteen Stories from an Odd Mind at amazon.com in paper for $11.99 (http://tinyurl.com/3waybfb) or you can buy the same book from Amazon, Barnes & Noble and several other venues as an ebook for only $6.99. Or, because you’re reading this blog post, you can buy it at Smashwords in any ebook format for only $4.99. (Go to  http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/53533. During checkout, enter coupon code: KP25K.) Like I said, paper is bad math.

If you want to look into epublishing, take a look back through the archives of this website for my posts on epublishing. You can also purchase my book, The Essentials of Digital Publishing, at http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/55256. By the way, if you enter coupon code WG36Z, you’ll get $2 off. And yes, please do share these coupon codes and links with your friends. Maybe they’ll even sign up for my blog!

Finally, if you’d like to epublish through Smashwords but would like my help, please take a look at the Services > eFormatting Prep page and then the Fee Schedule (Services > Fee Schedule). I’d be happy to help in any way possible.

Ah well, this wasn’t quite as short as I thought it would be. ‘Til next time, happy writing!

Harvey

Hi Folks,

There’s been a great deal of talk in the past few months about a “new” technique called “deep point of view.” The truth is, deep POV is nothing new. Most sources define it as a way to enable the reader to experience the scene as the character experiences it. In other words, don’t allow your narrator to keep the reader at arm’s distance by telling the reader what the character experienced. Instead, the narrator should simply describe the scene (that’s the narrator’s only job anyway) and then step out of the way so the reader can see, hear, taste, smell and feel the scene for himself.

In other words, Show, Don’t Tell.

Yep, that’s right. Deep POV is precisely the same thing as Show, Don’t Tell. Both of them mean “don’t tell the reader what’s going on; describe the scene and let the reader experience in right along with the character.” I hear your next question: But how does one accomplish such a thing? or Yeah? How’m I gonna do that? or How ya’ll figger we can pull off a deal like that? or Whut?

I’m clear up to here with writing instructors who, when asked to explain “show, don’t tell,” say something like “Well, I can’t really explain it, but I know it when I see it.” If you ever hear that from any writing instructor in response to a question about something he’s trying to teach you, run. And for goodness’ sake, stop giving him your money! Give it to me instead!

Okay, if you really want your stories to be more interesting, use deep point of view: show, don’t tell. To accomplish that, first

Don’t allow your narrator to use the sense verbs: saw, could see; smelled, could smell; tasted, could taste; heard, could hear; and felt, could feel. Are there exceptions? Times when it would be better to allow your narrator to use a sense verb? Probably, but to my way of thinking, no. You should be able to recast a sentence so you get rid of the sense verb. (Again, this is only for the narrator. Characters can say and do pretty much whatever they want.) Again, just describe the scene:

She felt the ground tremble. (The ground trembled.)

She heard an explosion rock the city. (An explosion rocked the city.)

Second, don’t allow the narrator to tell the reader how a character feels about something. Instead, trust your reader. Let him infer from the character’s own dialogue or unspoken thought how the reader feels:

John felt an uneasiness growing inside him. (An uneasy feeling grew inside John or An uneasiness grew inside John.)

Third, when the characters are talking, don’t allow your narrator to step in and tell the reader what they’re saying:

Red walked into the room. “Hey, John. You wanna go to the movies later?”

John looked up. “Sure! What’s playing?”

Red told John Gone with the Wind was playing on the first screen and that Barbarosa was playing on the second screen. At that point, John reconsidered his options and told Red he’d rather not go because he had a lot of work to do.

Okay, this wasn’t a truly engaging conversation in the first place, but do you see how the narrator just stepped in between you and the characters and took over? That will tick off even the most loyal reader.

Using deep POV really is just good manners. Just remember that every time your narrator speaks, he’s stepping between the reader and your story, the reader and your characters, the reader and whatever tension is going on. Therefore, when he does so it should be absolutely necessary.

Imagine standing in your front yard with a group of your friends, just chatting. Behind the guy you’re talking with, suddenly something interesting’s going on. You lean left to see and hear what’s going on, and you catch just a snippet of conversation or a glimpse of the action, but then your friend moves laterally, placing himself between you and whatever you’re trying to see and hear. To make things worse, he’s trying to make up for placing himself between you and the others by relaying to you what they’re saying and doing. Annoying, yes? Of course. So don’t let your narrator do that to your reader.

For much more on this and other narrative tips, consider picking up my ebook, Narrative in Fiction: Whispers from the Background at http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/44051 for only $2.99. I even more strongly recommend Notes from Writing the World, which contains the full text of the narrative book and five more writing how-tos from my writing seminars, and which you can get at http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/50958 for only $4.99.

Oh, be sure to check out Cantina Tales just next door, where one of my main characters, Juan-Carlos Salazár, the bartender and storyteller in the fictional village of Agua Rocosa, is holding forth. Turns out the guy’s pretty entertaining.

‘Til next time, happy writing!

Harvey

PS: Exciting news coming! My Writing the World seminars are coming to the Internet in the form of webinars. Watch for it!

‘Til next time, happy writing.

Harvey

PS: My characters write much better than I do. If you’d like to experience some of what they have to share, click the tab for Magic Realism. And if you want to learn to Make Big Money In Your Spare Time Just Writing Stuff (as the Geico gecko says, “That’s a complete dramatization, of course.”) check out the Writing Books page.

Hi Folks,

This blog exists primarily to promote great writing by teaching proven techniques, tips and tricks I’ve picked up during my 30-plus years as a writer, editor, and writing instructor. For that reason, and because I believe few folks have the time or inclination to look back through the archives, I’m going to repost a few of my more popular earlier posts and then delete those earlier posts. “The Infamous ‘Gave’” was one of the first of those posts. Enjoy, and don’t forget to tell your writer friends! They even get a free ebook now for subscribing. Here’s the post:

Other than being a poet, writer and writing instructor, I’m a freelance editor. When I happen across the first couple of instances of inappropriate use of the verb “gave” in a manuscript, I immediately do a global search to find each instance all the way through so I can repair those sentences up front. Usually when I find one such instance, I’ll discover a lot more of them because folks who misuse this infamous verb usually misuse it a lot.

Using “gave” inappropriately creates the same kind of diversion as saying “umm” a lot during the course of a speech. After awhile, audience members stop listening to the speech and start counting occurrences of “umm.” Likewise, readers will find themselves wondering when you’re going to quit “giving” things that can’t be given. Here’s a verbatim transcript of a question/answer session between a writer and his editor (me):

Question: Which sentence is correct, or are they both correct?

“I gave a quick look at Nick Campbell, and he gave me a subtle nod for me to continue.”

“I gave a quick look at Nick Campell, and he gave me a subtle nod to continue.”

A: I don’t care for either of them. “Give” is most often a transitive verb, meaning you actually give (or hand or grant) something to someone. Using it as you use it in these sentences is all right occasionally, if it isn’t overused. Regarding whether the “nod to continue” phrase works, it really doesn’t. To fix both problems (verb and phrase), I’d recommend writing it like this: “I glanced at Nick Campbell and he nodded, indicating I should continue.”

Okay, out of the example and back to the current blog post—in the example above, “glanced” is an action verb that indicates “quickly looked” without having to write the word “quickly.” Also, think about the action of the character. He didn’t actually “nod to continue” or “nod for me to continue”; rather, his nod indicated that Nick should continue.

When you “give” someone a nod or a smile or a look or a glance, that indicates to the reader that the recipient has something now that she didn’t have before, as if you “gave” her a dollar or ring or a house or some writing advice.

Okay, so here’s the thing: if you’re one of those writers who bathes in “gave,” stop it. If you look at the third or fourth word after “gave,” most often it will be a noun (smile, wave, shake) that you can turn into a past-tense verb (smiled, waved, shook) and use in place of “gave.”

Don’t Write                             Write

“I gave him a smile.”                “I smiled (at him).”

“I gave him a wave.”                “I waved (to him).”

“I gave his hand a shake.”       “I shook his hand.”

however . . .

Please Write                           Not

“I gave him a dollar.”               “I dollared him.”

“I gave her a ring.”                   “I ringed her.”

Yeah, I know you didn’t need the last two, but a little fun never hurt anyone. Anyway, using “gave” inappropriately is a habit, much like using the unnecessary and annoying “what it was that” phrase, as in “I forgot what it was that I wanted to tell you” instead of the much cleaner “I forgot what I wanted to tell you.” So yes, you’ll have to pay attention to your writing for a little while, maybe even consciously looking for instances of “gave,” but very soon you’ll develop a new habit: writing leaner, cleaner, more active prose.

‘Til next time,
Harvey

Oh hey, don’t forget to check my WTW Events page for upcoming writing seminars in Willcox, Tucson and Amado. They’re always on a Saturday and they’re always worth much more than I charge for them.

I also hope you’ll take a moment to visit my new website, Stories from the Cantina, where I and Juan-Carlos Salazár will hold forth with tales and tidbits about the people and events in the fictional village of Agua Rocosa and its surrounding area.

Awhile back I attended a political gala for my Favorite Politician. Actually, it was for a gentleman who suddenly became my favorite politician when he uttered, “My friends, a tax break is in the offing.” Of course we applauded like gentle-persons, repeatedly slapping three fingers against our opposing palm and trying not to spill our complimentary drink. But in the murky, Neanderthal center that is the domicile of our instincts, we got naked, beat drums, and danced gaily about the hall singing the politician’s praises to the tune of “Dueling Banjos.” Then, after the fog cleared the next morning, I began to wonder what the politician meant when he said our tax break was “in the offing.”

We always plainly understand that part about the tax break, or believe we do; it means that the person who has just become our favorite politician is about to line our pockets with a little extra cash. Well, sometimes that’s what it means. More often than not, it means he’s about to line the pockets of the people who make at least five dollars more (or less) than we make each year. I never seem to fall into the right tax bracket. But no matter—just the words tax and break, put in that order and aimed in our direction once or twice a year, is more than enough to thrill most of us.

But what about that in the offing thing? It flows so nicely when it’s attached to the end of a tax break is that we assume it means “right away,” “real soon,” or even “quicker’n two-minute oatmeal.” Besides, it must mean something good or our politician wouldn’t say it. Right? After all, the last thing a politician wants to tell us is anything that we can understand and do not want to hear. So instead he raises his arms high overhead to signal an imminent victory, then pauses for effect, then shouts, “My friends, a tax break is in the offing!” Then, just as the reporter in the third row begins to raise her hand to ask what he means by in the offing means, he smiles, waves, and disappears into the bowels of the nearest jet. Sometimes I’ve wondered whether I’d ever find out what in the offing means. Finally, I grew tired of waiting.

Having completed my schooling, I already knew what in and the meant. In, of course, is a word that means “not out,” and the is a word that means “that one right over there.” The only thing I still wasn’t sure of was offing, so (heeding the advice that I so often dole out to my children) I looked it up. And now, for the first time anywhere, I will reveal to you, absolutely free of charge, what your politician means when he says your tax break is “in the offing.” According to my American Heritage College Dictionary, the offing is “the part of the sea [that is] visible from shore [but] is very distant or beyond anchoring ground.”

I’m sorry… what?

Suddenly we’re faced with a difficult choice. Obviously our politician is either stupid, lying through his teeth, or far more clever than we gave him credit for. Then again, he might actually be telling the truth. If he’s either stupid or lying, of course, we can forgive him. In fact, we can even re-elect him at our earliest opportunity, since he’s doing exactly what we expected him to do. But what if he’s so clever that he actually snuck one past us? I mean us, the Informed Electorate! One thing we cannot afford to put up with is a guy who would imply that we can look forward to a tax break when the tax break he’s talking about is actually water-logged and rapidly sinking to the bottom of one ocean or another, almost out of sight of land, and destined to a lonely non-existence as so much silt. Worse still, had we known precisely where to stand, we could have watched it sink, all the while knowing we were powerless to retrieve it.

Only one option remains, of course: our politician may actually be telling us the truth. But that possibility leaves me heartsick. Think of it—if all of our politicians have been telling us the truth, not only have we suffered a dismal loss of tax breaks and other stuff over the years, but what do you suppose all those things “in the offing” are doing to the ecology? It boggles the mind, doesn’t it? I think I’ll go lie down.

‘Til next time, happy writing.

Yer Uncle Harv

Hi Folks,

Look, I know I’m supposed to be all serious on here and pass along what I can about writing. And I try to do that—I really do—but occasionally we all need to lighten up a bit, or at least that’s what I’ve heard. So here I am, lightening up. If any of you need to take a lesson away from this blog post, here: Coerce your muse, and you will lose. Tada! Okay, I used to do a lot of stuff with poetry, but this still fits, right? Fictionists and essayists and memoirists have muses too, right? Well then, here y’go.

A famous person once said, “You cannot petition the Muse with prayer.” At least I think a famous person said it—I might have made it up—but I do know I’ve tried to coerce my muse at one time or another. I’m not a bit above catching her, twisting her little arms behind her back, and saying something like, “C’mon Baby, gimme a poem! Okay then, gimme a line! C’mon, just one little line! Please! Just give me one word!” But she won’t do it. She’s proud of her independence. She appears when she wants, gives me what she wants me to have when she wants me to have it, and ignores me most when I’m suffering through the worst possible literary pain.

Coercing the muse is difficult under any conditions. Mine beckons at the most inopportune times, teases me with fantastic lines or sentences, then jerks them out of my head just as I reach for a pen. For example, last week, just as I was reaching to humbly accept a Pulitzer Prize for my efforts in poetry and the Nobel Prize for Literature presenter was waiting in the wings—okay, I was dozing—I was jerked from a sound sleep by a beautiful line of perfect iambic pentameter: enmeshed amidst the moon’s own silv’ry rays.

Now, as all serious poets know, direct visits from the muse are few and far between, so when she does deign to visit, I stop whatever I’m doing (or, in this case, not doing) and accept her offering. Not wanting either to wake my wife or forget the line before I could write it down, I groped in the darkness for my journal and my pen. Unfortunately, my Early Morning Pen & Journal Indicator shorted out and sent a warped message to my Right Hand Guidance System, causing it to veer slightly to the right. My little finger brushed the volume control on my radio, turning the alarm to its loudest setting an instant before the heel of my hand depressed the Wake Up Now! button. Of course my alarm has four settings. Given prior warning, I could have set it to Soothing Classical Music, Gentle Broadway Showtunes, or even an Insistent and Slightly Irritating Buzz. But no. Mine was set on The Most Raucous Sound on the Face of This or Any Other Planet.

As you may well imagine, things got hectic for the next ten seconds or so. The alarm went off, my wife screamed and fell out of her side of the bed, I sat bolt upright and yes, possibly cursing, and my wayward hand accidentally hit the Touch Me/Light Me Lamp three times in rapid succession, which immediately sent it to Ten B’Jillion Watts. Then, with amazing agility for a man my age, I cracked both my shins on the bedside table while deftly avoiding my wife’s bedside lamp. (I’d never realized she could throw that accurately.) With a sinking feeling once my eyes focused, I realized that neither my pen nor my journal were on the bedside table at all. I hobbled around the corner into my study, blinded during the first half of the trip and groping in the dark during the second half, and finally found them lying on my Official Writer’s Desk in front of my Official Writer’s Computer. Together these comprise my Official Writer’s Altar. The whole time, of course, only one thought was running through my mind: enmeshed amidst the moon’s own silv’ry rays… enmeshed amidst the monsoon’s silv’ry days…. The thought was fading. Frantically I reached for my journal. Enmeshed amidst the mastadons at play…. My pen fell to the old hardwood floor and rolled under my desk. I knelt before the altar and viciously snatched the pen, gaining at least a quarter pound from the splinter now lodged beneath my fingernail, and began to write feverishly—enmeshed… uh, unmashed… uh… oh man! It’s gone!

Oh well. So it goes when you set out to coerce the muse.

Hey Folks,

During a seminar I taught a couple weeks ago, I mentioned almost in passing that being a successful writer is a matter of setting priorities. Of course, that’s true of any field of endeavor. The difference is, we readily accept that it’s true for most other professions.

Consider, if your passion is medicine, how far will you get if you just read up on it and occasionally practice on your friends and family? Ludicrous, right? You know going in that you’ll have to spend years on formal training and then more years of on-the-job training. And how much money will you earn as a part-time engineer or plumber or mechanic or carpenter if you take the attitude that you’ll practice when you have a few spare minutes? Not much. In those endeavors too, you expect you’ll have to endure a mixture of formal and informal training. You have to pay your dues. The idea is, if you aren’t cut out to be a doctor or an engineer or a plumber or a mechanic or carpenter, you’ll lose interest during the intense training and go find something else to do. Something you’re good at. Something you want so badly that you’re not only willing but eager to devote yourself to the inherent craft.

So why do folks believe, just because they learned some time ago that they can use two longer lines and one shorter one to construct the capital letter A, they can be a successful writer? In my years as a writer and editor and writing instructor, I’ve heard over and over again some variation of, “I had no idea writing fiction was so difficult! I can’t believe my story was rejected again!” And that came from accomplished professionals, including doctors, engineers, businessmen, plumbers, and even journalists. Again, would the same person be amazed at being rejected by a client if he practiced medicine or engineering or plumbing or carpentry for only an hour or so a few times a week? Probably not. I try to keep a straight face when I respond with something bland and non-committal like, “Yeah, who knew there’s actually a learning curve?”

Seriously, folks, if all it took to write a national bestseller was employing what you can remember of your grammar classes, wouldn’t everyone be a multi-published, best-selling, multi-b’jillionaire author? As with any worthwhile endeavor, if you want to be a writer—a person who makes his or her living with the written word—you have to invest the time and effort necessary to learn the craft.

Well, either that or you can just lower your expectations.

‘Til next time, happy writing!

Harvey

Hi Folks,

Recently a friend asked whether a local writers’ group was going to “use me” for the ”market based e-pub formatting” that they’re going to offer. My first thought was What an excellent example of corporate speak! My second was What exactly is “market based” formatting? Then I realized it really doesn’t matter. I doubt the person who first uttered that phrase could even explain it if he or she were asked to. It isn’t mean to be explained. It’s meant to sound good enough to entice people to jump at the chance to do it—whatever it is—and that’s something at which Americans are well practiced, but I digress.

My response was that No, I would not be participating. I already offer a very reasonably priced eformatting service, and I’ve always given discounts to members of that particular organization.

My friend went on to say if I did, not to underprice myself (too late) and she named one person (a publisher) and one publishing company in town who charges around $300 for eformatting. What? But really, that’s a quiet ripple in the Scam Pond. A nationally known subsidy publisher charges an exorbitant fee and retains part of the electronic royalties—this after the victim… er, I mean client… has paid them well over $1000 to publish a book. Again, what?

Folks, when I pay a plumber to repair my plumbing, he doesn’t continue to own part of the product. When I pay a contractor to build me a house, he doesn’t continue to receive payments after I’ve paid him for his services. And if you prep your book yourself and haul it to a printer, the printer doesn’t keep part of your royalties after you’ve paid them to print your work. And that brings us to epublishing.

I don’t convert your Word .doc file to .epub (B&N and Apple) and .mobi (Amazon) and .lrf (Sony) and other eformats. But for one very low fee, I prep your Word .doc so it goes through the Amazon (.mobi) and Barnes & Noble (.epub) and Smashwords (.mobi, .epub, .lrf, .pdf, .pdb, .html, Java Script and a couple others). And Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords do those conversions free. That’s right. They convert your Word .doc to all those eformats at absolutely no charge to you.

So there y’go. Let’s do a comparison. Say you’ve written a novel (from 100 to 400 pages).

Option 1: You pay me $30 if the subtitles are all chapters or $60 if I have to manually create an interactive, hyperlinked table of contents. I format your Word .doc so your document will slip smoothly through the conversion process at Amazon, B&N and Smashwords. Not only that, I guarantee acceptance into Smashwords’ premium catalog, meaning they’ll distribute it to B&N (unless you want to), Sony, Kobo, Diesel, Apple, and ScrollMotion. (Amazon coming soon.) That means your ebook is suddenly in about 30 markets worldwide.

Option 2: You pay $300 or more to the local publisher or company (they’re in your area too) to epublish your books for you. Some of these outfits will defend their pricing by saying something like, “Yeah, but we actually convert the books to .mobi and .epub for you.” That’s probably true. But so does Amazon and Barnes & Noble and Smashwords, and they do it free. And they do it right.

What’s that? Harvey, what do you mean, “They do it right?” I mean they do it right. When you submit the Word .doc that I formatted for you to Smashwords, the resulting eformatted books will be valid, meaning they won’t be replete with errors like varying font sizes and line spacing, varying paragraph forms, etc. Even I can “create” an epub document for you out of your Word .doc—almost anyone can by simply downloading free conversion programs online—but creating a valid .epub document is the trick. And if the .epub document that your publisher created and sent out isn’t valid, even after he charged you $300 for eformatting, Barnes & Noble and Apple (and others) simply won’t sell it.

By the way, to check to see whether an .epub document is valid, simply go to http://threepress.org/document/epub-validate/. It’s free of charge.

So it’s all up to you. To see what I would charge to prep your particular Word .doc, please Click Here. I also create very attractive ebook covers, again for a very reasonable fee. That service is on the same fee schedule. Odd—even if you paid me to format your Word .doc so it would slip easily through the conversion process and had me create a cover for you, it would still cost a lot less than just the local publisher and/or company would charge you for only eformatting.

Oh, and just so you know, once you set up an account at Smashwords, you can download their free Smashwords Style Guide, which will guide you through formatting your Word doc yourself. It’s kind of convoluted though, which is why I offer this service.

Finally, if you’d like to do it yourself with guidance but find Smashwords Style Guide (as I did) too convoluted, you can also get my book, The Essentials of Digital Publishing, for $2 off right now. Just use coupon code WG36Z during checkout. Replete with screen shots, it explains step by step how to do for yourself what I can also do for you per the fee schedule I mentioned earlier.

Be careful out there. The traditional gatekeeper of publishing is gone. That means you can publish freely, and also that you should make sure your work is as polished as possible before publishing. But it also means scam artists are going to be springing out of the bushes at pretty much every turn wanting to take advantage of you.

Thanks for listening. ‘Til next time,

Happy writing!

Harvey

Hi Folks,

The topic of priorities—or rather How to Prioritize—has come up twice in the past few days. It came up in passing as I was teaching an overview of The Essentials of Digital Publishing last Saturday in Willcox, and it came up again a couple days later in an email from a professional writer friend. I take that as the universe’s way of nudging me to write a blog post about it.

Y’know, sometimes I feel overwhelmed. There, I said it. Even if I had no blog posts to write, no edits or eformatting to do for other people, and no questions to answer—and I do welcome and am grateful for all of those—I still couldn’t Just Write.

Say I’ve just finished polishing a new short story, a one-off that is not part of a series and contains none of my recurring characters. Now I have to eformat the document, create an attractive, attention-catching ebook cover, and submit it for publication. Okay, that doesn’t take too long. Then I have to add the new release to my website and announce it on Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, Scribd and a few other venues. Still, not too bad. All the while, of course, I’m thinking about Maldito and Tomás and the bartender at the cantina and all the other recurring characters who reside in Agua Rocosa and the neighboring fictional towns and populate my Stories from the Cantina and the forthcoming Saga of Maldito. I’ve written 8 or 9 of those stories, meaning I have only about 10 more to go, and they’re a-l-w-a-y-s on my mind. And if I’m not thinking about my recurring magic realism characters, I’m thinking about the recurring extremely bad guy (a cannibal) and his sheep-like victims in the forthcoming interconnected collection, Evenings at 7 in the Parish Hall. I’ve written two of those stories thus far, meaning I have 5 to go. (At least five is a finite number, I think, and sigh with satisfaction.) But I’m working on yet another short story collection with recurring characters too, and it’s as open-ended as the Maldito stories. And of course, there’s always one more one-off short story popping up, wanting to be written. Oh, and my contemporary western/horror/suspense novel. And my post-apocalyptic novel. Sigh.

Now and then, I experience what Dean Wesley Smith calls “popcorn kittens.” There I am, minding my own business, when I suddenly experience a surge of adrenaline mixed with Everything I Have to Do and I get the notion I can do it—all of it, right now. But of course, I can’t, and if I try, I’ll end up exhausted and frustrated, with nothing to show for my efforts but a few wasted hours. That’s when I have to take a deep breath, sit back, and remember my priorities.

1. Writing—I’m a writer. My number one priority is Writing. No, really. Okay, if my house is on fire and if it’s progressed to the point that it’s licking on my office door, maybe evading the fire becomes Temporary Priority One until my laptop and my current story are safe. I’ll save my work, close my laptop, and set it gently out through the window where I can retrieve it and resume work once the fire department has ceased all that incessant noise.

2. Other People’s Work (OPW)— This includes editing, eformatting, cover creation, answering questions (usually via email), developing, scheduling and teaching seminars, etc. I don’t mind admitting this is my second priority because if you’re a writer, you’ll understand. And I do appreciate that others trust me with their work and respect me enough to attend my seminars, which is why this is so high on my list in the first place. Also in this category is any outside work I need to do around the place because it gives me a break from the desk and my mind for awhile.

3. Marketing—For my own work, coming up with promotions, Facebooking, Twittering, and attending to all the other little extras that come with being a publisher as well as a writer.

4. Social Time—I mean face to face, not online. Watching a movie on TV, eating dinner, etc. Things I do that don’t take me too far from my work.

5. Everything Else—This includes dinner out, weekend trips, visiting relatives and all the other things I do “when I have time.” (I’d find it very difficult to call myself a writer if I only wrote “when I have time.”)

Understand, these are my priorities, not necessarily what you should do. Maybe your first priority is your family or your children or your pickup or Saving the Whales. Only you can decide that. You have to pick and choose and then set your own priorities from that baseline. That way, any ensuing guilt or remorse you experience down the road from having set and adhered to your own priorities will be on your shoulders, not mine. Trust me, I’m carrying enough.

Oh, and I do recommend Dean Wesley Smith’s post about popcorn kittens: http://www.deanwesleysmith.com/?p=4957.

‘Til next time, happy writing!

Harvey

PS: If you’re new to Writing the World, I hope you’ll take time to explore the site as well as the archives. There are a lot of articles on writing back there on the dusty shelves.