1) The 18 officially-sanctioned hair styles of North Korea.
2) “Dead giraffe. Bars of silver. Robot hand.” Thinks found underwater in New York.
3) al-Qaeda’s 22 Tips for Avoiding a Drone Attack.
4) Lego Hogwarts. Hundreds of thousands of pieces. Months to build.
5) The Urbee 2: a 3d printed car.
6) A really excellent book cover.
7) Gender inequality in publishing: Some actual numbers. via @jodipicoult
This past weekend was pretty rough. The one bright spot was lunch on Saturday to catch up with an old friend, but the rest was a litany of minor difficulties: tiny black ants came through the wall that divides my bathroom from a neighboring unit, the section of book I’m writing “feels” wrong while I push through anyway, I’m getting phantom food reactions, and my son had one of his irregular bouts of insomnia which meant he was up in the ass-hours of the morning and punchy through most of the day.
It gets to the point where a guy can’t even steal time to post on his blog.
I have a post brewing about peoples’ tendency to see fantasy as a conservative genre and another about the interesting Amanda Palmer TEDTalk that’s been going around, but both have fallen victim to the demands of making wordcount for THE WAY INTO MAGIC.
But I do want to announce the release of this:
Yes, the Spirit of the Century tie-in novel I wrote for Evil Hat has been released as an ebook, but only to the people who backed the Kickstarter. If you’re one of those people, you can download the book from here. If you didn’t back the project when it first went live, you’ll have to wait a bit for it to hit the stores.
Now, I know there are lots of folks out there who could find a way to torrent a copy or whatever so they have a chance to read it right away. If you do, please consider buying it anyway when it hits the stores, maybe as a gift or something.
Thanks!
First, as per James Nicoll and Making Light, Games Workshop, the game company that makes Warhammer 40K, is asserting a trademark claim to the term “Space Marines.” They have the trademark on the term in the gaming world, supposedly, but now that they’ve started publishing ebook tie-ins they’re claiming a common law trademark over the term and filing DMCA notices to make Amazon pull books from the shelves.
Of course, the writer they’re doing this to doesn’t have the money to fight back because deep pockets uber alles. If you’re a fan and customer of the company’s games, maybe you should stop buying from them until they clean up their act, and let them know about it.
Second, yet another article about the slow-motion collapse of Barnes & Noble written for The Atlantic this time. Is there any surprise, really, that our slow-motion recovery from a nasty economic collapse is still taking a toll on out-sized companies? Or that the agency-price collusion lawsuit filed in Amazon’s favor would be another cinderblock in B&N’s rowboat?
I’m not what you’d call a fan of B&N, although I will say that I’m less-likely to be given the side-eye when I shop for SF/F in a big chain than in an indie store. Also, I love seeing huge sections of a store devoted to genres, something you rarely see in indie corner shops.
What would be lost if the last of the big chains go under? We would lose a physical space designed to sell according to readers’ tastes rather than the tastes of the bookstore owner.
Third, Chuck Wendig wants to make today International Don’t Pirate My Book Day. His thoughts about treating art as a thing of value are worthwhile, but here’s where he and I differ: when you read my work without paying for it, it doesn’t hurt my feelings.
It’s pernicious, yes. It’s harmful in the long term. If I am giving something away for free, read for free. Enjoy. If not, I would prefer you pay. However, it doesn’t hurt my feelings because my feelings don’t enter into it.
I’ve talked about this before: In the digital world, price is not constrained by supply and demand. Supply is/can be effectively infinite, so there’s no reason for people to pay extra to procure scarce goods. However, the constraint on price is actually “theft;” the balancing act has to be “How much will users pay for this?” vs “At what price point will people just steal it instead?”
Really this is an inevitable consequence of our advertising/consumer culture, in which you the consumer deserve whatever you want when you want and it ought to be cheap as possible. That’s the culture that vendors of every size, from mom and pop stores to massive corporations, have been pushing for generations. It’s thoroughly internalized in our outlook on the world, and now that machines in our homes allow us to cut the actual producers out of the equation, people do so with gusto.
It’s pernicious, yes. Also, I know people will respond with “Customers are willing to pay if you make it easy for them to do so and keep the price low enough.” Yes, that’s true. It’s also a calculation that occurs solely within the head of the consumer. What’s a fair price? How long should I have to wait for it?
There will always be people who think the smart thing to do is to take what they want and give nothing back, if you get my reference. The real issue becomes the size of that group of consumers and how the culture at large talks about them. In my opinion, the battle against book piracy will not be won in courts or legislative chambers, but in the culture at large; what behavior is normalized? That’s the question.
Fourth and last, I’m going to a reading tonight and my body is in full allergic freak-out mode. I don’t have anything life-threatening going on, but the patchy red marks on my face and (fading now, thankfully) hives on my arms turn me from ugly guy to full AVERT! AVERT! status. Oh well.
1) The Periodic Table of Super Powers.
2) It’s Downton Abbey for Super Nintendo!
3) Leeroy Jenkins: the short film. Video.
4) The best way to eat from a Chinese takeout box. Video.
5) Dorothy Parker’s telegram to her editor.
7) Yes, of course you’re sick of Gangam Style. But have you seen it done as flip-book animation? Video.
Bonus! Chicago comedian Joe Kwaczala got himself banned from OKCupid with this profile. This is funny as hell. Seriously.
I didn’t watch PROJECT GREENLIGHT when it was on, but I heard a story about it that I really, really like. For those who don’t remember or care, it was a reality TV show in which a complete newbie was given the chance to make a million dollar movie in Hollywood, complete with name stars you’d recognize, the whole bit.
The story: After a difficult day of shooting in which they fell behind schedule, the producer came to see the crew–director, cinematographer, key grip, the whole bunch–and he was pissed. It was way too early for them to fall behind and they needed to get their shit together.
And who was he yelling at? The cinematographer, not the director. In response, the cinematographer smiled.
Why was he smiling when he was being yelled at? Because the guy who takes the blame is the guy who has the power. In this case, it wasn’t noob in the director’s chair. It was the man running the camera. When the producer yelled at him, the cinematographer knew he was the one who was really in charge.
Maybe that’s not a true story. Maybe it never happened. I keep telling it, though, because I like it.
What does this have to do with writing? Well, over the weekend I posted a long piece about the Twenty Palaces series, and why I wasn’t going to be Kickstarting the next one. If you’re the sort of person who wisely spends their weekends away from the web but who has been hoping for book number next for Ray Lilly, give it a read. It’ll disappoint you.
The response to it has been great; thanks very much for all the kind words I’ve received. However, a number of people have suggested that the books should have been a success but for bad marketing or clueless readers or whatever.
I don’t buy that. There’s only one cause of the failure of this series, and that’s me. I’m the one who wrote them. I’m the one who decided to leave the background mysterious rather than explained. I left out a romantic subplot. I did that, and a lot more. If they had been a success, you can believe I would be taking the credit. When they failed, I pushed the blame on no one but me.
Yes, there was bad luck. The economy crashed between the time I made the deal with Del Rey and the time the books came out. Circle of Enemies wasn’t on the shelves of B&N until two weeks after publication because a palette of books was damaged by Hurricane Irene. And of course Borders had just collapsed two months before.
None of that matters. Bad luck hits people all the time and they still manage to succeed. It was my job to write books that a lot of people wanted to read, no matter what obstacles got in the way, and I didn’t do it.
Plus, the fault wasn’t in the obstacles. Other writers have released books around the same time as I did, and they were entirely successful. What they could do, I could have done as well.
Anyway, this is a rule with me. No matter what happens, failure is always my fault. Every one-star review comes from my choices. Every lost sale is the same. If I write a book that editors don’t want to purchase, it’s on me for writing that book. Never mind that their line is full for the year, or that they hate books with cannibalism, or they just picked up a UF with an ex-con protagonist and mine is too similar. Never mind that they were hung over because their cat had just died, and they rejected everything that had come in that week.
It’s my job to break through all that. It’s my job to be so compelling they can’t turn away.
If you’re frustrated with rejection (and I know how hard it can be, I’m still living it) the answer isn’t to blame others: not publishing professionals who don’t understand your work/don’t know how to market a book/don’t support new writers the way they used to, not readers, not booksellers. The answer is to look at the book you just wrote and ask yourself “What should I do differently next time?”
Sometimes the answer is “Nothing.” Sometimes you’re proud of your work no matter how many rejections it got. There’s precious little I would change in the Twenty Palaces book.
But by taking the blame for failure, you keep hold of the power to succeed in the future. Better that than giving it away to a complete stranger with a hangover.
Take the blame. Keep control over your career.
Along with the release of the sales numbers of my self-published novel has come a flood of requests that I turn to Kickstarter to fund The Twisted Path (that’s the working title of the next Twenty Palaces book). Currently, I have no plans to do that, and I’m writing this post because I want to explain my reasoning to you guys and I want to have a post I can link to when people broach the subject. Because they do broach the subject. A lot.
I want to be a best-selling author.
What’s more, I want to do it on my own terms; I want to write the books I think are cool, and I want a hundred thousand readers to snap them off the shelves the first week they come out. I want to write thrillers with good characters and magic, along with A Few Things I Want To Say. I mean, not to jump up and proclaim that I want to be Stephen King, but I want to be Stephen King. It’s not about making a whole bunch of money, it’s about having my books in the hands of lots of readers from all over the world.
That doesn’t mean I’m going to copy Stephen King, or Nora Roberts or George R.R. Martin or Gillian Flynn. I wouldn’t even try. I intend to write books my own way because honestly believe the things I think are cool will be cool to bunches and bunches of readers.
Or maybe not. We’ll see. That’s what I’m shooting for, anyway.
How does this tie in to Twenty Palaces, a series that you, the person reading this post, quite possibly read and enjoyed? Well, 20P has dedicated fans, but not very many. As mentioned in the Twenty Palaces sales post, I sold over 3700 copies of my book, self-published. Couldn’t I sell at least that many if I self-published The Twisted Path? Or maybe even more if I turned to…
(dramatic pause)
Kickstarter?
Well, sure. Maybe. Maybe I could write two 20P books a year (or three in two years), and quite possibly the readers I have right now would be willing to pony up the cash I’d need for an editor, cover artist, copy editor, and the disreputable author himself (not to mention covering Uncle Sam’s and Kickstarter’s cuts). A Thousand True Fans, right?
Here’s the truth: I could do that. I could live on that money. I’d probably have to depend on 2.5K mostly-true-occasionally-false fans, but I’m still living on the advance money Random House started paying me in 2008, okay? I live cheap. I have no car, no cell phone, no new clothes, no new glasses…
Oh, wait, that part sucks. Anyway, I’m cheap as hell, I don’t need much money, and I could make that work, right?
Yes. Yes, I could. But you know what? That would be another year of not making my goal. That would be another year of working on a series that didn’t get me where I want to be. Every Twenty Palaces book I’ve written has sold fewer than the one before; do I want to keep going after fewer and fewer readers every year?
Several people have suggested that I could get new readers with a Kickstarter campaign, but I don’t consider that realistic. Take a look at these guys: their campaign has been fantastically successful. At the time I write this, they’re over 11,000% of their goal. However, they have fewer than 8,500 backers.
That’s huge for a Kickstarter but Circle of Enemies sold more copies than that and it’s considered a failure. When I look at fiction projects run by novelists, especially ones who are more successful than I am, the number of backers is usually in the low-three figures.
So no, a Kickstarter campaign won’t bring in new readers. It would sure please the readers I already have, though, and you know what? I want that. Wanting to be read by hundreds of thousands of people from all over the world includes the people who already know and like my work. I’m grateful for everyone willing to buy a copy of my books or to recommend Ray Lilly to their friends.
But to stay with Twenty Palaces when I know the reading public at large–not just the ones who enjoy my work, but the wide audience–has rejected it would be to never move beyond my starting point. It would mean standing in this small safe place. I would be giving up the chance to grow and try something new.
If I were a different writer–someone who could put out 20,000 finished words a week–I’d write Ray Lilly books alongside whatever new things I came up with. I can’t do that. I’m not prolific. It has to be one thing at a time with me.
I just can’t get past the opportunity cost. Twenty Palaces novels are challenging: each one took me a year or more to write, and you know what? I’m not young. Look up at that third paragraph; did I say I wanted to be the next EL James or JK Rowling? Nope, it was “Stephen King.”
Because I’m old. Life is short, and I need to spend my years wisely.
So here’s my plan: I have already written a book in The Auntie Mame Files which needs to be revised. I’ve also written about 200K of The Great Way, which is the series name for my epic fantasy. Everything I’ve written so far has been aimed at publication through New York. Yeah, I know it’s possible (maybe not likely, but possible) to make more money by publishing books myself, but more money isn’t enough. I want more readers, too.
If I Kickstart or self-publish a new novel, it will be one of those books.
I won’t be returning to the Twenty Palaces setting until I’m honest-to-god successful. It’s only when I have, say, 100,000 eager readers buying my books that I’ll reintroduce 20P to see if the series can find new life.
So that’s it: the final word. I could self-publish or Kickstart The Twisted Path, but it’s not going to happen until after I succeed with something else. If you liked the Twenty Palaces books, I hope you’ll like the next thing I write. If not, that’s cool, too.
But please don’t argue with me about continuing the series, or try to explain to me what Kickstarter is, or insist that yes, in fact, truly, it would be the right move for me to write The Twisted Path next. The series is dead. It was starved of sales and died. I won’t be trying to revive it anytime soon.
Sorry if you’re disappointed by that–believe me when I say it hurts me even more–but that’s how it’s gotta be.
Added: As if he used his powers as SFWA president to read this unfinished blog post, John Scalzi put up a terrific post about writing for a living. It’s not just an art, it’s a job, too, and we all have to make realistic choices.
Plus, I’m convinced the dude has installed spyware on my computer or used a time machine to read this post in the future and then come back and pre-empt it. Hmf.
I recommend reading his thoughts on the matter, plus the comments from other pros in the comments. As an addendum: keep in mind that, looking at the numbers in this post, where he’s talking about the sales figures of Redshirts, John Scalzi, as successful as he is, has not yet reached the threshold I set myself for returning to 20P. Just sayin’
A few weeks ago, the November 2012 sales numbers for self-published books became available to the people who published them. Since I first published the Twenty Palaces prequel (cleverly title Twenty Palaces) in November of 2011, I thought it would be a good idea to post the sales figures. Why not?
Looking at this, you might be tempted to look at the price I’m charging and try to work out how much I’ve made. That won’t work. For one thing, not all of these sales came at Amazon’s 30% sales commission (I refuse to call them royalties; Amazon isn’t my publisher). Despite setting the price above $2.99, they charged me 65% on a surprisingly high number of them.
Which sucks, but that’s the price of doing business with a company like Amazon. So, if you think you can figure out what I earned, it’s actually quite a bit less than that.
Also, the first month’s sales were small because I posted it just in time for the last week. December was the first full month.
Anyway, the Smashwords sales cover Kobo, iBooks on Apple, Sony Reader, and Smashwords themselves, and since I didn’t start them until months later than Amazon and B&N, I didn’t break them out by month. I would have had to break out each seller and that was too much work. They’ve been small players for me anyway.
Here’s the table:
| Month | Amazon US | Amazon non-US | B&N | Smashwords Group | Total All |
| 11-Nov | 83 | 6 | 0 | ||
| 11-Dec | 902 | 27 | 54 | ||
| 12-Jan | 430 | 25 | 55 | ||
| 12-Feb | 281 | 19 | 40 | ||
| 12-Mar | 211 | 13 | 42 | ||
| 12-Apr | 182 | 2 | 20 | ||
| 12-May | 131 | 16 | 31 | ||
| 12-Jun | 126 | 14 | 32 | ||
| 12-Jul | 98 | 8 | 27 | ||
| 12-Aug | 96 | 11 | 27 | ||
| 12-Sep | 71 | 8 | 17 | ||
| 12-Oct | 62 | 5 | 14 | ||
| 12-Nov | 44 | 0 | 11 | ||
| Total | 2717 | 154 | 370 | 170 | 3411 |
Christmas! The Christmas season is worth a few sales, and that’s a fact. Checking the numbers for Giftmas ’12, there was another small bump not reflected above.
Anyway, the numbers aren’t terrible but they aren’t fabulous either. I’m certainly not going to be touring Europe by rail on this novel, and it doesn’t inspire me to Kickstart The Twisted Path, which would have been book number next. Still, for a book I’d already written, I’m happy enough with the results and grateful to everyone who bought a copy.
If you haven’t bought a copy, I put some handy links into the table above. Knock yourself out.
Finally, I know some authors post their numbers every year, but this was sort of a pain to do. I’m not seeing it becoming a tradition.
Authors, don’t fret those bad reviews. They mean less than you think.
Oh, hell, would you look at the fabulous 200th issue of SFWA’s Bulletin:
Let’s see, we have a wintry mountain scene complete with icicles, a dead giant with monster-teeth, and…
And a woman in a chainmail bikini.
You know what this cover says to me? It says: “I have nothing of value to say to you.” It says: “The only thing I have to offer is more of the drek you’ve been trying to distance yourself from.” It says: “We provide garbage because we don’t think garbage is what everyone likes.”
Apparently, there’s more WTFery inside, but I’ll have to take people’s word on it because I’m not interested. I used to read The Bulletin cover to cover but lately it just makes me feel embarrassed to see it drop into my mailbox.
SFWA, you’re an organization of professionals. If you want to pander to me, treat me like a savvy customer, not a mouth-breathing lowest-common-denominator soft-pron fantasy fan. I do not need paintings of swimsuit models on the covers of the professional magazines you send me; that’s what the internet is for.
Have some damn pride.
Blastr has posted a (slightly tongue-in-cheek) list demonstrating how much it would cost to buy yourself a Hugo nomination and/or a Hugo Award.
Now, I’m not going to replicate their numbers here, you’ll have to click through to see them. They’re based on last year’s numbers. Since folks can nominate and vote just by paying for a membership in the convention, how many memberships would you have to buy (for friends, ‘natch) to put yourself into consideration. It seems like the cheapest options would be $850 to be nominated and $8800 to win for short fiction.
That’s 17 pals to make the bottom of the list, assuming this year’s numbers are like last year’s. You might want to round up to an even grand just to make sure. My question would be this: Would it be worth it?
Never mind the bragging rights to having the statue, or to putting “Hugo-nominated author” into your email sig file. Would it get you better contracts, more sales, more reviews, or anything at all? Would it ever pay off?
From everything I’ve heard, it never would.