Elf Killing And Other Hobbies

Rejections and Dejection and Objections

2012-01-25T02:33:00.002-05:00

Rejection.

Harsh word. Harsher reality. And, unfortunately, a part of every writer's life. Here it is, early on Wednesday morning, and this has already been a week where rejection has played a huge part in the life events of all kinds of writers at all different levels. For me this week, rejection has been the catchphrase. So, I wanted to address rejection in this blog post. I kind of feel obligated to, because not only have I had to reject writers this week, but I've been rejected myself as well.

Strange, isn't it? That I can deal in rejections after receiving my own? And sure--there's a part of me that thinks, "ANY writer, given the proper chance, training and editing, can succeed." I honestly believe that. That's part of the Musa creed, in fact. We take writers and build authors. It's our mission.

And yet...

And yet...does that mean every writer RIGHT NOW is ready to take advantage of that creed?

No, it doesn't.

Let me tell you a story. The first draft of The Reckoning of Asphodel that I wrote was in 1983. I came back to it in 2003, when I had to quit work after my car accident. We were poor---POOOOOOOOOOOR--and I was stuck at home all day by myself while my husband worked two jobs. And after rent and food and medicine and doctors' bills and gas and car insurance and utilities, there was nothing left for cable or internet or even books. So, just to entertain myself, I dug out this old story from my memory--not even the paper manuscript--and set about writing a story to keep myself sane. And after that story was written (and the other three as well), it took me three years and multiple rejections before I finally found a publisher.

Twenty years. And don't get me wrong--that manuscript was rejected back in 1984 and 1985 when I was a dumb college kid who didn't know the first thing about how to submit or what even made up a good story. My writing career was born of rejection, just like every other writer out there. My study wall is papered with printed up rejections--the helpful ones, that steered me in the right direction; the painful ones, that almost made it; and even a few stupid ones. You know--for the wrong manuscript or the wrong author name. So every time when I look at a new manuscript from my slushpile, before I write that rejection letter I'm confronted with literally hundreds of my own failures. I try to take into account how each rejection made me feel, what it made me do, and if it helped or hurt.

This week so far, I've had a writer attack one of my editors online because she rejected his manuscript--and this after I wrote him probably one of the gentlest and most encouraging rejections I have EVER written. I was concerned upon reading his manuscript that he wasn't quite mature enough as a writer to work through the editing process successfully. And, within 48 hours, my lack of conviction in the writer's maturity was borne out.

I wonder. Will he take that manuscript out in a couple of decades and look at it again? Or will he move on to another project and submit to us as we advised and encouraged him to do? Or, will he instead play the victim card, and fritter away his talent and promise?

And will I ever know?

Then, less than twenty-four hours later, I got probably one of the most crushing rejections I have ever received. Crushing--not because it was a rejection, but because against every instinct I have to the opposite, I very foolishly allowed myself to think that maybe one of my agented manuscripts had found a home.

I knew better than to do that, and I paid for it.

But...I have to admit, as crushing as the rejection was, I find myself thinking in an entirely different manner about the repercussions. I'm not sitting here dwelling on *manuscript A* rejected by *insert Big Six house here* after having *manuscript A* for well over *insert number higher than 8 and lower than 12 here* months.

(okay--maybe a little bitter about the months thing. I'll admit it.)

Instead, within the same email to my agent after she delivered the news, I was already thinking about the NEXT publisher. I was already processing the COMMENTS of the editor who'd taken the book to committee and had lost. I was already thinking AHEAD.

Not BEHIND.

The thing about publishing, and writing, and all the intangibles involved in the submission process is that any work is malleable. Any opportunity lost can become an opportunity gained. And the author who wishes to succeed in publishing, to gain all that they hope for and have worked for, must keep their focus AHEAD. Sure--it's okay to be depressed for a bit. I muttered a few choice...verbs at my computer screen when I woke up to that email. But then pick yourself up and move on to the next house on your list. Or, if the rejection includes comments that resonate with you, take a look at the manuscript. If the comments don't jingle any strings, though, just move forward. The last thing I want to encourage any author to do is to change their manuscript every time they get a personalized rejection. All you'll get out of that is a confused mess of changes that don't enhance the story.

Regardless of what you decide to do with the manuscript, the real course lies only in one direction. Ahead. Anything else will throw you off course for years. And if you reach the natural end of the line for the manuscript, wrap it up carefully and store it away.

Every story, every novel you write is a jewel of accomplishment and dedication and education. The more you write, the more you learn. Never let one manuscript, one rejection, one publisher be the end all-be all of your writing career. Take a day--a week--to get your pouting and sulking out of the way. In private is best, and by all means don't run off to the editor's Facebook and leave a snotty comment on their Wall. But get it out of your system if you need to and then move the heck on. Because the only way to prove that rejection was a bad idea? Is to get that manuscript accepted somewhere else.

Margaret Mitchell's Gone With The Wind. J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Both great classics. Both manuscripts, rejected scores of times before someone bought it. Stephen King. John Grisham. Madeline L'Engle. All authors who were rejected--famously--multiple times before they were published. Hell, Anne Frank was rejected. Who could be mean enough to reject Anne Frank? If you talk to any of our great writers, our famous and revered writers, they all have one thing in common. Rejections.

Getting rejections is a part of the growth experience of every writer. We have to get rejected in order to know how to improve ourselves and our work. We have to be told 'no' before we can really appreciate the 'yes.' And just like with every other writing milestone, we have to learn to take these things in stride.

One thing that being an editor has taught me is that it's never easy to reject a writer whose manuscript is almost there. Believe it or not, it's hard. And while I was muttering some strong...verbs at the computer monitor this morning, I wasn't saying them to or about the editor. My verbs had to do with what comes next.

Your verbs should try to do the same thing.

And the adjectives? Well, as with all descriptive terms they should SHOW, not TELL.

Let your work do the job for you. You'll be better off watching the spectacle from the high road, than dragging yourself, your work and your reputation down into the gutter.

Things these days...

2012-01-18T16:07:00.001-05:00

...are strange in the wonderful world of Celinaland. Besides being busier than a three-legged cat in a room full of mice, lots of changes are on the horizon.

My totally wonderful and awesome agent, who is the tiniest object of universal fear in the publishing industry, now has three of my manuscripts in hand. I'm very happy about this--I like knowing that I have three fish swimming in the barrel. A little over a year ago, I would have been thrilled to have ONE. But now, since all three manuscripts are the first stories in series, those manuscripts represent much much more. In those three series I have eleven manuscripts written. Not too bad, eh? So I feel that last year, despite all the craziness, I managed to get a lot of good work done towards my writing career.

And we shall see how that goes.

On the Musa front, we just keep getting busier and busier. Our submissions inboxes are up to date--a very good thing considering how many subs we get--and our release schedule is already stretching its timeline tentacles into the autumn of this year. Penumbra just assumed the electronic submissions for the stranded subscribers to Realms of Fantasy, so I'm working my rear off on that too. With the addition of two columns, one by writer/editor/blogger/aikido bully Lori Basiewicz on folklore, and the other by writer/comicist/educator/Writer Beware guru Richard White on worldbuilding, our content is not only increasing but improving. And, of course the February issue of Penumbra is Shakespeare. That always helps.

Life at home, surprisingly, is quiet. With both kids grown and out of the home, it's just me and the cats most of the time. Very conducive to getting a lot of work done.

What is NOT conducive to getting a lot of work done, however, is the ongoing purgatory of my back. Yes...that's still going on. Last week, I was admitted to Ohio State; there was a suspicion that the area around the artificial disc in my lumbar spine was infect. That was not the case. However, what IS the case is that the artificial disc is dangerously displaced and has been almost since the day it was put in. In fact, some displacement was already visible six weeks after it was put in.

Did my then-surgeon tell me about that displacement? Nope. Did he let me know that the surgical screws were already visibly protruding? Nope. Did he ever let on--during the months after that artificial disc replacement--that maybe perhaps the continuing pain in my back and the horrific sciatic pain in my leg might have been caused by a problem with the surgery that he, himself, performed.

Not once. In fact, he discharged me six months after the operation and never saw me again. Funny how that works, huh?

At any rate, I'm now with one of the top orthopedic surgeons in the country for this type of failed hardware correction. He told me today I'd become a 'back surgery celebrity' since I was discharged from the hospital last week. He had communicated with some other orthopedic surgeons he knows and given them the details of my case. And every single one of them agreed with his diagnosis.

Yippee.

At any rate, I'm really glad I have my writing stuff squared away; that's one less thing to worry about. But now, I need to get Musa and Penumbra set for my absence, and that's not quite as much fun. Regardless, though, being able to walk without pain,, to drive down to see my parents or daughters, to be able to do SOMETHING...ANYTHING again is something that not even my fertile imagination can conjure up. It's been so long since I've been able to say that--I really can't let myself think I might be able to travel again, go boating, go riding, just be NORMAL for a while.

Because if this falls through and it doesn't pan out, I don't know that I'll be able to stand it.

Until then, though, I'll distract myself with work. There's plenty of it to go around, that's for sure.

Today Feels Like a Thousand Days Before

2011-12-01T16:38:00.001-05:00

December 1 is never a good day for me. Never. Today is World AIDS Day and a day when not only do I remember, but I sit back and think about how things are different now. If they are. And since today is the 24th World AIDS Day in a year in which it's been 30 years since the first reported case of AIDS, it's a day for people of my generation to reflect.

And reflection for me is not easy.

When AIDS first came to my notice, I was a teenager. In the early days, the media called it 'gay cancer' -- straight up, on television news programs and magazines. And as a kid in Tennessee, the concepts involved were at first hard to understand. When I graduated in 1984 from a still-small Tennessee high school, I was unprepared for what the next few years would bring.

At first, AIDS and HIV were problems in the cities with big gay communities and freer moral standards. I learned about it like many kids my age did--through the media. But as I matured and moved into professional theatrical work, AIDS was no longer so remote. Insidiously, it crept into my world--first by rumor, then by implication. Then kids started getting sick, and straight women and then all of a sudden there wasn't any more talk about the 'gay cancer.' All of a sudden, there was a lot of hatred. Bigotry. Torture--mental and physical--and while the government and the generations ahead of mine tried to ignore the growing crisis, my generation could not. Would not.

And the gay community, which had been in hiding and underground, mobilized into an army. And I, and other people like me, who skirted along the edges of it because of occupation or relationships, mobilized right along with them.

Being a youngster in the AIDS fights made me stand out on many levels--not only from within the community, where I was an anomaly by benefit of gender and orientation--but from without. It's hard to understand now, probably, but the fear and hysteria surrounding the crisis tainted everyone involved. The pressure was incredible. And I, who'd joined up with this events almost passively, buoyed by some sense that I, a straight girl, could somehow shield my friends from the horrific punishments they faced from the general population, found myself supported from within--by the people I, in my arrogance, had though to 'protect.'

We all learned a lot about ourselves. And about others. And hatred, pure and vicious, that whipped along every move we made.

But worst of all, more than anything else, there was fear, coiling under the foundations of what we tried to build. Always fear--and part of that fear was split off from everything else, because while we preached testing and knowledge there's still the part of every human being that's afraid to know.

I'm not going to talk about the young people, men and women, I know who died. I'm going to talk about the young people, men and women, who were left behind as survivors. Those memories are raw still, and probably always will be. Sometimes being a survivor was worse. So many lovers, upon the illness of their partners, were shunned by the families who had 'legal' responsibility for them--the same families who'd turned their sons out for being gay in the first place. How many parents who only months before had disowned their sons showed up before the end to snatch him away from the people who cared for him in their stead? How many partners were shut out of the mourning process, forbidden to "intrude" upon the family's wishes? How many victims were hidden away after their deaths, buried without ceremony or notice, so his "shame" wouldn't reflect upon his parents? I witnessed this too many times in too many hallways--a second death without closure, eviscerating the one left behind. That's what I'll never forget really--the blankness of that moment, the stare, the absolute stillness of the one left behind. And there was always someone left behind.

A few times, it was me.

It's hard, I think, for my kids' generation to understand what the period from 1985-1995 was really like and how hard millions of people, gay and straight, worked--not only to fight the disease itself but its complications--hatred, prejudice, ignorance, shame, and terror. My daughters know more than most of their peers. I've told them of the bedsides I sat at in hospices, reading out loud to victims who had no one else who cared about their condition. My girls are smart and are blessed with natural compassion. They know. But they don't know how many deaths I actually saw.

Please God they never will.

In 2011, AIDS has touched almost everyone's life in some way. I know HIV+ patients who have lived long, productive lives with the virus because of medicine, safe practices and sometimes just sheer, stubborn determination and a burning need to tell the rest of the world to fuck off. (And good for them!) Now, because the hysteria has calmed because of the ceaseless, amazing work of the gay community to educate the rest of the world about AIDS, most people accept it as just another fact of life. Something unpleasant to be aware of, but for someone else to deal with the actuality of.

While we are hopefully getting closer to a cure, the fact of the matter is that AIDS is not for someone else to deal with. WE must deal with it. WE must continue to fight, to educate, to research. WE must always remember that the only cure for the complications of AIDS rests with us and not some nebulous other.

The responsibility is ours. Still. And until the day comes that the last victim of AIDS is cured, we cannot ever lay down the burden or rest from the battle.

But today, when I think back on twenty-four years of World AIDS Day, I can't think of slogans or catchphrases.

All I see are faces. Hundreds--thousands of faces.

And I know them. All of them.

And so do you.

But today, I think, I'd like for you to meet someone else. Meet the one who was left behind. Until this country's willing to grant every American citizen the same civil rights, there will ALWAYS be someone left behind. Today, I want you to look, to really look at them. The forgotten victims of AIDS.

The ones left behind.

Giving Thanks--It Ain't As Hard As You Think

2011-11-24T22:58:00.001-05:00

Let's see--what am I thankful for this year?

I could go through the whole usual litany of "things Celina is grateful for in 2011" but I'm sure you'd be bored. The list is short and...well, quite frankly, you guys don't read my blog to see what I'm being nice about. You want to see what's pissing me off. So let's head to the top of the list, shall we?

I hate divas.

Now, I realize that's strange coming from a girl who worked in theater AND in drag shows for a long time, but it's the God-honest truth. You know all the awards show speeches that thank the "little people?" Well, who are the "little people" in publishing?

The cover artist. The content editor. The line editor. The proofreader. The book designer. The marketing people. The bookkeeper. The review coordinator. The list goes on and on and on. A whole lot of people go into creating a book. Sure--the writer is responsible for the lion's share of it; after all, they WROTE the book. But the steps of the publication process mean that a lot of different people touch that manuscript before it becomes a BOOK and makes it to readers.

There is a growing trend I've noticed lately, one that I find more than a little disturbing: authors who feel they have the right--and the power--to treat the crew that works on their book disrespectfully. Authors who talk out of their asses, criticizing...say, a cover artist, for example, for creating a cover based on the author's OWN DESCRIPTION of the theme and plot instead of reading the book and pulling an image directly from the author's brain and regurgitating it onto the page. Last year, as a matter of fact, an editor who is a dear friend of mine was told by an author that he would SUE HER for copyright violations if she "dumbed down" his manuscript by correcting his very (very,very) horrific use of the English language.

At least I assume it was English. It might have been Tagalog for all I know.

In fact, earlier this year PM (pre-Musa) I retracted a contract offer to a writer who took it upon himself to correct the CONTRACT (one that I did not write and didn't have anything to do with) and then expressed concern over the level of editing he would receive if the contract was any indication of the company's standards. But what made THAT encounter resonate even more strongly (and heads up! herein lies the lesson) happened a couple of months later, when the same author submitted the same manuscript to the same editor at a different company.

Guess who didn't get a contract offer from Musa?

And you know what?--it's a damn shame. The book was well-written, funny, timely--and with a good, strong editor and the proper platform could have done very well. But that book lingers with the author as far as I know, and probably will for some time.

You see, all those "little people?" They are working on multiple books from numerous authors at varying levels of proficiency. That artist is making five or six more covers this week. The content editor has her next two books already lined up. The proofreader just got done working with the best-known author in the house, who treated her with kindness and respect. And THAT'S why the best-seller is loved by the staff--because courtesy and professionalism go a long way to greasing the gears of the process.

So my Thanksgiving post this year isn't about turkey or family or Pilgrims. My Thanksgiving post is about the actual giving of thanks to the people who work with you on your book. Be courteous. Be professional. Speak to these publishing pros like equals. You don't automatically assume god status when you sign a publishing contract.

Don't demand. Ask.

There are enough divas in the world as it is. In the publishing industry, we don't really have divas. Instead, we have asshats--and that's the last title you want dangling from your name. Because usually right behind it, there's another tag that's even worse.

Failure.

What To Write, What To Write...?

2011-11-07T02:28:00.003-05:00

I just spent fifteen minutes looking for an appropriate quote for my blog today.

Unfortunately, every quote I considered had something to do with not being able to write. Probably not the best thing to write about--not being able to write--and yet, a strangely familiar thing for me at the moment.

I've never had any problems sitting down and putting words on paper. Sometimes, those words even made sense. Frequently, those words formed themselves into sequential stories. And in the end, no matter whether I have my writer's hat or my editor's hat on, the stories are what drive me in all aspects of my life.

Which makes my life pretty damn cool.

Except that right now, I'm finding it difficult to make the time to write. All those 20 hour, 20,000 word days are now 20 hour, 20,000 (slight exaggeration for literary effect) email days. My editing time has taken away my writing time, save for...well, now. Three a.m. The house is quiet, my inboxes are clean-ish. I open up my WIP and...

I've lost the thread of the story.

So I have to take some time to read back through the last pages I wrote, so I can pick up the thru line. Fortunately, that doesn't take long. And then...and then...

It's seven in the morning and everyone's alarm clocks in the house start to go off.

*So, Celina, what's the point?*

The point is that writing is not always some bolt of inspiration. A Muse doesn't descend from the Olympian heights to inject 100,000 brilliant words in the correct order and then drops a wall to block the same writer from ever producing another coherent sentence.

Writing is work--difficult, painstaking, solitary work. The best way to cure writer's block? Write your way out of it. Instead of sitting there waiting for the heavenly choirs to hit a harmonized high "C" that hefts you over that block, make yourself write. It doesn't matter what you write. You can write an extremely creative grocery list. Just go to your writing place, sit in your writing chair, and WRITE. You may have to rearrange your mind from whatever it is you do when you're not writing--I certainly do--but once you've managed that, then write.

Or--

Inspiration is wonderful when it happens, but the writer must develop an approach for the rest of the time...the wait is simply too long. -- Leonard Bernstein

Thank God for www.quotationspage.com.

Journalist And Newspaper Gone Bad

2011-11-05T14:04:00.000-04:00

The reporter that was bugging me for details about AMP? The one that Teddi Pig posted the contact details for? His article went up at the Aurora Sentinel newspaper. The title of his "article?"

Battle Among Local PORN Authors Heats Up on Facebook As Aurora Publisher Goes Mum.

Porn? PORN? What the HELL? I don't write PORN. I don't edit PORN. In fact, during my tenure at AMP, I never saw a PORN book go through the pipes. PORN and EROTICA are two entirely different genres, types of book, and markets. AMP didn't publish PORN. AMP published science fiction, fantasy, horror, romance w/o sex, romance w/sex, erotica, mysteries, suspense, thrillers, action/adventure, paranormal romances.

And yet, this "journalist," Brandon Johanssen, didn't mention that in the title of his article. Oh no--instead, he compounded the misery of AMP authors by calling them all PORN authors.

PORN?

Dude--are you really SO ignorant that you don't know the difference between erotica and PORN? Are you really throwing it out there that I, who writes fantasy, science fiction, and horror am a PORN writer? Really?

You know, I think that's called LIBEL.

Or, at the very least, yellow journalism.

What happened to journalistic ethics? What happened to double checking your facts? Heck--one of the authors quoted in the story, Charles Sanders, wrote a HORROR book that didn't get anywhere near a PORN. Charles is probably not real happy to be called a PORN author.

I know I'm sure as hell not.

This is why I didn't talk to that cretin when he kept pestering me for information about AMP. And despite the fact that in the ARTICLE, he states that not all AMP writers wrote PORN--it doesn't really matter. The TITLE is what will remain online. So for the eternity that is Google-fu, when my publishing credits come up online, PORN author is what people will think. No one will remember that I write vanilla spec fic, or that I edited books from all genres and build a no-sex-allowed tradtional Regency romance line. All they'll remember is the PORN.

With complete unconcern for the victims of the AMP debacle, this "journalist" and the Aurora Sentinel newspaper discarded all the ethics of their profession and threw all AMP writers under the bus on top of the financial and emotional hardships they are already undergoing. And while I'm really damn pissed at Sandra Hicks right now, the fact that she's been labeled a PORN publisher in her hometown is absolute bullshit.

But the Sentinel and Johanssen don't give a rats' ass about that. As long as they sell papers, they are quite willing to trample to work and reputations of over a hundred authors and staff into the dirt. Right now, that PORN label is hovering over every single victim of Aspen Mountain Press. And that "reporter?" The one that lied to AMP authors and staff about wanting to get their stories out?

He lied.

Let's look at my correspondence with him At first, he contacted me because of my blog and mentioned that an AMP author (who most assuredly does NOT write PORN) had contacted him about AMP. In my return email, I confirmed that I did work at AMP (and yeah, that was a big DUH on my part since I'd been raging about it on my blog. Cut me some slack. Even I can pull a DUH.) and asked what he intended to write his story about. He indicated he wanted to do a business story, and wanted details about why AMP fell, how much I personally was owed, how many books AMP published and WHAT KIND OF BOOKS AMP PUBLISHED.

I talked about the offer with the ladies of Musa, and we arrived at a decision together that what I'd said on my blog was enough to serve as Musa's statement about our dealings with AMP, both within the company and as a separate entity. I informed Mr. Johanssen of this in a formal, if cordial, reply:

Dear Mr. Johansson,

After discussing your request with my colleagues and considering it very carefully, I'm afraid I don't really want to comment further on the Aspen Mountain Press situation. My blog posts are already up and impacting the situation. I don't feel that participating in such an interview is the best choice for me at this time.
Thanks--
Cordially,
Celina Summers

His response? He wanted more background information for the story. At that time, I replied that I would be happy to reply to his questions via email, but not via a phone call. I never heard from him again.

Now I know why.

The article came out the next DAY.

He didn't have any interest in the facts of the story. The facts are pretty boring. What he wanted was the sensationalism of screaming PORN!!!! into the quiet little community of Aurora, pointing to a member of that community as the PORN Queen who stole from her writers.

So thanks for nothing Aurora Sentinel. Appreciate all the "help" Mr. Johanssen. My situation is SO much better now that I've been branded for my involvement with a company that produces PORN.

Anyone who is outraged by this article--like pretty much every writer that's been born?--can leave a comment at the Aurora Sentinel story page (linked to above) or send an email to legals@aurorasentinel.com. As writers, we know the power of the written word. The truth pales next to it. And this is just another example of how to exploit the writers who have already been exploited by their publisher.

Yellow journalism should never be supported, particularly when a journalist and the organization he writes for are content to lie in order to sell more copies. Perhaps the Aurora Sentinel and Mr. Johanssen will be surprised to realize that a simple writer of non-porn PORN has a greater understanding of journalistic ethics and scruples than they do.

You see, when I was working toward my degree in Communications, my professors always pounded home the fact that a reporter had to be sure of the FACTS before he went live with a story. I guess Brandon Johanssen slept through that part of the course.

But his editor? His editor knew better.

For shame.

Breaking My Word About Aspen Mountain Press

2011-11-04T23:56:00.000-04:00

Yeah, yeah--I really thought I was done. There are a lot of things I could be blogging about, but this one is sticking in my craw.

Since all this mess started, Sandra Hicks has been maintaining a low profile. The splash page on the AMP website reads:

The Aspen Mountain Press web site is temporarily suspending operations.Over the past five years we've demanded high standards in all areas of the company from authors to editors to administrators. Due to the current health of the owner these standards have not been met.We'd like to thank you for your support and patronage over this past half decade and apologize for any inconveniences this decision causes.

Due to the current health of the owner...

Makes it sound really bad, doesn't it? Like the situation is dire?

Well, then let's take a look at the owner, Sandra Hicks, and her personal Facebook page. Her personal Facebook page tells an entirely different story. This Sandra Hicks doesn't seem to have many health problems. According to her posts, she is shopping to finish decorating her son's bedroom, going to concerts, baking pumpkin pies and...quoting Bible verses. A lot of Bible verses.

And yet, this is the same woman who just a few weeks ago in an open letter to her unpaid and rebelling authors and staff claimed, "I can only work about two hours a day."

Obviously, if one is shopping, decorating, baking and going to concerts that doesn't leave a lot of hours in the day. And, curiously, while the AMP authors and staff remain unpaid, Ms. Hicks can miraculously afford to redecorate her son's room?

Amazing recovery on her part--both financial AND physical.

I've canvassed the AMP authors and staff over the past few days. Despite a minuscule trickle of rights reversion letters 10-14 days ago, no one has been paid or received their rights back since then. I know since I had the 'latest betrayal in a long line of betrayals' voice message (ironic since apparently me not getting paid the royalties she owes me is now some kind of betrayal of her?) I haven't heard a peep from Sandra Hicks or Aspen Mountain Press.

We are now into November. I have not received any pay from Aspen Mountain Press since June. That means that on November 15th, we'll be at the FIFTH consecutive month without receiving pay. And yet, Sandra Hicks apparently feels holy enough to purchase the makings of pumpkin pies, to pay for concert tickets, to redecorate her son's room--and all with the royalties that AMP authors and staff members didn't get paid for.

How easy it is to steal someone else's money and spend it on yourself. And so, despite numerous articles and blog posts about the thievery ongoing at Aspen Mountain Press, including from Writer Beware and sites of that nature, Sandra Hicks apparently feels well enough--and safe enough--to spend the money she has illegally withheld from the authors and editors who actually EARNED that money.

Nice.

The time for excuses is past. The time for spurious claims of ill health or some other incapacity to follow through with her sorely abused authors and staff and to rectify her mistakes is long past. At any time in the past five months, Sandra Hicks could have made even a tiny effort to recompense the well over a hundred authors and staffers for the over four hundred books that were published by Aspen Mountain Press.

She has not.

Instead, while claiming poor health, she's engaged fully in her new AMP-free days: spreading the word of God, baking pies, redecorating her son's room and attending concerts, sharing the joys of her life and the bounties of God's grace with her new pals from church, none of whom appear to be aware that she is responsible for financial hardship across multiple continents and blithely unconcerned with the suffering she's left in her wake. She's not responding to emails, or phone calls, or registered letters, or text messages. Nothing. Nada.

And yet I am the betrayer for spilling her dirty little secrets, despite the fact that I almost lost my house while she redecorated hers?

Whatever.

Allow me to make myself VERY clear. If Aspen Mountain Press and its owner, Sandra Hicks, do NOT respond in a clear cut fashion and make an effort to make amends to the writers, editors and staff who've been stolen from, I will release every single piece of correspondence, every financial record I was provided or had access to, and every single word of the transcripts I have for the multiple staff meetings I attended/ran as the managing editor at Aspen Mountain Press on this blog, other blogs, and whatever sites want to have them. I will provide those materials to each and every author at Aspen Mountain Press for their legal cases. I will give that information to the journalist in Aurora, CO who's been asking me for an interview and whom, up to this point, I have refused.

A brand new countdown clock has just started. I would have been happy to deliver this message to Ms. Hicks in person and privately, but she's not answering her mail OR her phone these days. But I'd damn sure be willing to bet that she's watching her Google Alerts, or that her husband, Jeff Hicks, the owner of 1PlaceForRomance (Mr. Hicks was also involved in an unsavory situation last year when AllRomanceEbooks sued him for copyright infringement and the third party site cancelled AMP's ability to upload books to the ARE site, naming Sandra Hicks as a co-respondent in the lawsuit) is. As a matter of fact, judging from the undeniable truth that the only time Ms. Hicks has contacted me since my departure from AMP had to do either with getting money from me (the Aurora Regency deal) or to accuse me of betraying her as the result of a blog post, this is probably the ONLY way to get the warning to her ears.

Close the doors permanently, Sandra.

Give the authors their rights back.

And then pay the people you owe the money you owe them instead of going on about your business like there's not a thing in the world wrong with what you're doing.

There is something very wrong with what you're doing. You have become what you once preached against--you, the leader in the fight against the scam publishers that burned you and your rights back in the day.

No matter how many Bible quotes you regurgitate, you have become a scam publisher yourself--an electronic pirate garbed in the spoils you've earned from the labor of others.

Just get it over with.

There's not a person in the world stupid enough to believe that you're at death's door when you're spending your energy, time and OUR money redecorating your son's room. Seriously.

Breaking News from Musa Publishing

2011-10-28T12:20:00.000-04:00

Musa Publishing is proud to announce our acquisition of the entire collected works of American pulp fiction author and a pioneer in America speculative fiction--Homer Eon Flint. Best known for stories like The Emancipatrix, The Devolutionist, The Blind Spot (co-written with Austin Hall), The Lord of Death and The Queen of Life, Flint was an influential and popular writer who amazed readers with his flowing prose, his incredible vision, and his ability to create credible and vivid imagery that rolled out just like a film-which is good since he was doing film treatments as well.

At Musa, we believe that electronic publishing has value and uses other than just publishing. We believe that the archival ability of e-publishing allows us to better the literary world in general. These manuscripts have been stored away for almost a hundred years. Now they are going to see the light of day for the first time in some cases--and Homer Eon Flint's bibliography will increase accordingly.

The Homer Eon Flint collection will be published in its own Musa Gold line through our Polyhymnia short fiction/collections imprint. Dr. Matt Teel, the head editor at Urania, will be working with myself and Vella Munn on the collection, which Musa will publish bi-weekly throughout most of 2012.

Musa invites you to join in this gradual revelations of this amazing author who helped to lay the groundwork for our genre nearly a century ago--and let whose words read smoothly, whose voice is still fresh and original in the kind of world that he actually DID imagine with a great deal of prescience. Stay tuned to the Musa website and blogs for more information and release schedules for his books.

And congratulations. The entire world of Homer Eon Flint is about to be laid at your feet.

Why That Won't Work

2011-10-24T19:06:00.001-04:00

To the individual who keeps spamming my blog with the same comment:

I, and everyone else involved is, well aware of what our options are for the AMP case. I have already clearly stated in my blog posts, had you bothered to read them, that this was the case. I do not need multiple postings of the SAME COMMENT to understand what my rights and options are, thank you very much.

Probably a bit of a nasty surprise to find out my blog is moderated, yes? But, since you seem intent on posting the SAME COMMENT even more, I'm terribly afraid I have marked you as spam.

To the rest of the world:

We're going to try this one more time. I WILL NOT DISCUSS legal issues on this blog. I WILL NOT COMMENT FURTHER on AMP and the case around them. I WILL NOT PERMIT anyone to use this blog as the weapon for their own personal vendetta.

I trust I have made myself clear?

We now return you to your regular NON-AMP status. Have a very nice day.

Updates 10/28/2011 -- To the commenter who doesn't want to take the advice above:

The owner of AMP is not MY Sandra Hicks, so quit acting like I'm trying to protect her. I'm going to try again and use very small words so you can understand this--

1. I am the one who blew this story wide open.

2. I already TOLD you politely that I won't discuss legal actions being taken on a public blog. So let me be more blunt--it's none of your damn business what we are doing legally and we're not obligated to tell you or anyone else what those actions are. Why is that? BECAUSE WE DON"T WANT AMP TO KNOW, you moron.

3. Chances are good that if I didn't publish your spamming comments on my blog last week, I wasn't going to publish the new one--you know, the one where you insulted me and acted like I was protecting this publisher?

4. If you keep broadcasting your legal intentions to AMP in public, then their attorneys will be prepared for you.

5. There are multiple uses of your energy that are more effective than trying to piss ME off.

Have a nice day.

Let's Talk About Writer Etiquette...

2011-10-23T16:08:00.002-04:00

I'm not the nicest person in the world. In fact, there are times that I'm one of the most foul-tempered people on the face of the earth. But there's one thing I always am.

Courteous.

Never underestimate the Pavlovian tutorial that is growing up in the South. I still say yes ma'am, no sir, thank you and please to anyone that might conceivably be my elder. I hold doors open for people. I moderate my language around people I don't know well. It's just ingrained in me. That courtesy is necessary for success in the publishing industry.

For example--last year one of my editors came to me with a problem author. At first I couldn't understand what the problem was. Then I opened the manuscript. If the writer disagreed with the editorial change or suggestion, he left snide, nasty, rude comments in the margins. I mean REALLY rude comments. This author had a bachelor in the 1880s American West living in a 'pioneer' cabin with running water AND a sofa. So because it was that editor's first book with us, I took over the edits, letting the author know that his ability to go through the editing process like a mature adult was the thread upon which the publication of his book hung.

Guess who didn't stay with us when we moved the imprint to Musa?

Writers should inherently understand the power of the written word. After all, words are the tools we use daily. And yet, every time I see an author behaving like an asshat online--bashing their agent or their publisher, whining about their edits, or worse--responding rudely to a legitimate review or critique--that author's name goes onto my mental "Do NOT Publish" list. You know--I can't remember my phone number half the time--but I sure as heck remember the name of an asshat writer.

So think carefully before you hit 'send'. Make absolutely certain that what you say can't come back and bite you. The best response to a vicious review? None. Tweet about your cat or your word count or your favorite football team, but don't be stupid enough to bash your publisher or editor or agent in public. Take that energy and funnel it into something productive.

My trick for that? I create a character in my WIP that's mentally tagged as whoever has pissed me off. Then, I kill them in the most cruel, vicious, disgusting fashion my fertile and evil little brain can cook up. Then, when I see that asshat anywhere else online, I can just smile quietly and move on. "Thank you" and "Please" and "I appreciate it" will get you a heck of a lot further in any business. Employ those words and the intentions behind them frequently.

Trust me when I say that--if you're on one publisher's DNP list, you're probably on quite a lot of them. It's never a good thing when the only thing between a writer and success is the writer.

Breaking My Silence on Aspen Mountain Press--Part 3: Epilogue

2011-10-21T22:11:00.000-04:00

I had to take a few days off and NOT think about Aspen Mountain Press. After all, I have my own business to think about and my own writing career. But now, at the conclusion of a hellish week, I've decided to follow the links to my blog all over the internet and see what people were saying and thinking about what's happened at AMP. As a result of that trek, there are a few things I want to discuss.

There seems to be a common thread among the comments that the AMP authors and staff are sitting back doing nothing. That's about as far away from the truth as you can get.

Stop and think for a minute. Would it be prudent or wise to discuss LEGAL actions on the internet? Of course not. Why would anyone exploring legal avenues discuss their plans online, where not only people who are not involved can see them but the party against whom such actions would be taken? Several of the AMP authors are attorneys, and an attorney had seen my documentation before I ever said a word.

On top of that, the AMP authors have been anything but passive. Unlike previous small press implosions, this group of authors banded together and worked out a concrete strategy for dealing with AMP. (And no, I wasn't the one who did that. I and the other staffers who'd walked were keeping our noses out of it as much as possible, in the hopes that our departure would galvanize the owner into rectifying some of the more serious breaches of contract.) They managed to get AMP books taken down from third party sites pretty much across the board. A few sites still carry AMP products, and they are now the focus of that group of authors.

Anyone who's not involved can proffer advice to contact the FBI, the DA, the IRS, etc etc. That's not a problem. What IS a problem is the assumption that these authors were too stupid or too scared to do that. Whatever is posted on these blogs by AMP authors and staff is just the merest surface of what's going on.

In the end, though, there are lessons to be learned here--lessons for every writer out there. First off, there is NO SUCH THING as a contract that can't be negotiated. In our eagerness to sign on the dotted line and get our works published, there are sections of the contract we rarely pay attention to. The first publishing contract I signed, I never even THOUGHT about taking a look at the breach of contract section. I just never considered it likely that the company would fall apart. I never thought to make sure there was an out clause for me if the company disintegrated. I was naive. Many new writers are.

Second, as soon as communication starts to become a problem--and particularly with a sole proprietorship--you need to address that issue IMMEDIATELY. That seems to be the number one symptom of imminent implosion.

Third, I believe all writers at small presses need to have the mysteries of royalties eradicated. When we started Musa, one of the key points for us was developing a database for our authors to be able to track their sales in real time. We want our authors to know exactly what they're getting paid and when. As far as I'm concerned, there is no reason to keep writers ignorant of how they're going to be paid. Not one.

Fourth and finally, if the unthinkable happens follow the example of the AMP authors. Band together with other authors in the company. Determine a set strategy. Follow through on that strategy absolutely. When a retail giant like Amazon pulls a company's books due to complaints from that company's authors, you know the strategy will work.

This blog is the absolute last word I have regarding Aspen Mountain Press, its owner Sandra Hicks, and the resultant actions. Ever. And while I am still really pissed off that matters have come to this, I am also grieved as well. Sandra Hicks was my friend and mentor. The health problems she is experiencing are very real. Does that excuse her actions in my eyes? No, it doesn't. She's not been ignorant of my opinions regarding sending checks out without royalty statements or her lack of communication. There's a year's worth of correspondence to support this contention.

There are still questions that I and the rest of AMP need answers for. Are our royalties/salaries going to be paid? When? Is AMP reverting all rights to the authors and closing down? If so, when? Are we going to be provided an accounting for the royalties we received--or didn't receive--over the past 15-18 months? If so, when?

My opinion is that only a certified CPA can untangle the AMP accounts enough to make that accounting to the authors.That's not what bothers me. What bothers me the most is that while AMP authors weren't getting paid their royalties, that money was being used by the owner for things that it shouldn't have been.

That, my friends, is the cold, hard, unpleasant truth.

This week, I was asked by a journalist in AMP's home town for an interview. After much thought, I decided that these blog posts were going to be my final statement about Aspen Mountain Press. I discussed this with the remainder of the senior staff that walked with me from AMP, and as one of them put it: "I think that is hitting below the belt. You were trying to protect authors and help them. Writing about her in her home town is a witch hunt."

That's a sentiment I agree with entirely.

Let's be frank here--we're not talking about a multi-million dollar company here. We're talking about a small publisher who, quite frankly, got overwhelmed at a time when her inexperience cost her dearly. Once in the trap, she kept digging herself deeper until she couldn't find her way out. To be honest, her biggest mistake was getting into the publishing business at all. She understood the publishing--not the business. What needs to happen now between AMP and its authors/staff can be boiled down to the following:

1) The immediate and unequivocal release of all books and contracts still held by the company.

2) The immediate audit of the AMP books by an accountant who is not involved with the situation.

3) The immediate accounting of all royalties due to each author.

4) The remuneration of any and all unpaid royalties and salary to each unpaid author and staffer.

That's it. Period. Once that happens, everyone--including the owner--can move on to a new chapter in their lives. And then, AMP can be held up as another cautionary tale on the gate of the bone yard where small presses go to die.

And THAT, my friends, is all she wrote.

No more Aspen Mountain Press. Godspeed.

ETA--Or maybe not. Today, my attention was brought to the owner's Facebook page--a page that's nothing but Bible quotes and updates about things like going to a concert. So the owner is too ill to right the ship and two hours of work saps her energy, but she is still well enough to post on Facebook and attend concerts?

On top of that, an AMP author (book lost in limbo) contacted me today claiming AMP had written to HIM. asking him if he wanted his rights back OR if he wanted to publish with AMP. Due to this new turn of events, I have to reluctantly conclude that AMP's owner has no intention of closing and will reopen the AMP website for business before the sixty day window stipulated in the contract has passed.

Interesting Developments

2011-10-20T10:17:00.000-04:00

This morning, I woke up to a threatening message left as a comment on my blog.

Now granted, there are several people I can think of right off the top of my head who might feel compelled to leave such a comment on my blog. Obviously, considering the nature of my past few posts I would have been an idiot not to change my comments over to moderation. I tend to NOT be an idiot--at least, not all the time--so I was fortunate enough to weed that comment out in the skimmer.

*shrug* I'm really only an idiot about silly things, like forgetting to turn the heat on last night when I knew the temperature was going to get down to the low forties. (in other words, it's damn cold in here this morning). But one thing I'm most definitely NOT an idiot about is how people behave. Years of bartending kind of wean you off the surprise thing. But even then, strange reactions are kind of acceptable in a way. Someone can have a few too many and shoot off at the mouth without really meaning to and BAM! Bar brawl.

This is different.

I have to ask myself--who wants me to keep silent? Who thinks they can scare me into shutting up? The list of suspects is fairly small; pretty much limited to the posts on my front page. I figure it's someone who either wants me to keep quiet about Aspen Mountain Press, someone who didn't appreciate me outing self-plagiarism, or someone who has a strong reason to want to scare me from a personal situation. And since I'm reasonably certain that the only person who is involved in the latter can neither read nor spell, I have to look at the other two.

Let me make myself perfectly clear: I don't respond to threats. I don't really give a crap about anything a coward hiding behind an Anonymous handle might think about me, about my decisions, or about my right to speak out. I really, really don't.

That being said--

There's been some movement on the Aspen Mountain Press debacle. Authors are starting to get rights reversion letters, which is great. The website is down, with the following message:

The Aspen Mountain Press web site is temporarily suspending operations.
Over the past five years we've demanded high standards in all areas of the company from authors to editors to administrators. Due to the current health of the owner these standards have not been met.

We'd like to thank you for your support and patronage over this past half decade and apologize for any inconveniences this decision causes.

Also, checks of third party sites reveal that there are very few AMP books to be found for sale. Even Amazon, apparently, has taken many AMP books down.

All of this is good news. When the AMP website was pulled, a new countdown clock started up. Contractually, (Section XIX) if AMP suspends operations for sixty days, all rights revert to the authors immediately. So this is great news, particularly when paired with the authors who had their own countdowns started over thirty days ago with notification of breach of contract. Those countdown clocks are 90 day clocks. So right now, the authors who have not received rights reversion letters are keeping a weather eye on the AMP site.

However, I've not heard of any authors or staff getting paid. Indications are that AMP is getting rights reversion letters out first and then turning to the salaries and royalties still owed. For the time being, therefore, while there is progress many AMP authors are not satisfied. Latest word from Ms. Hicks, the owner, has reverted once more on the subject of having enough money to pay AMP authors and staff and now says she has the money for back wages and royalty payments.

So hopefully, the small signs of progress are indicative of real progress and not just good intentions.

I have hopes that AMP and Ms. Hicks are going to do the right thing. As I've said before, I've known Sandra for years, and she has been a friend and mentor to me. I don't believe she ever set out to deliberately harm her authors, staff or company; I think she was just overwhelmed But in the eyes of the law, and the people who are suffering as the result of this debacle, intent counts for little when set against the reality of the AMP staff and authors' very real and legitimate complaints.

Just When You Think You've Seen It All...

2011-10-19T02:41:00.000-04:00

...some doofus comes along and convinces you otherwise.

After a couple of VERY hectic weeks dealing with Musa's launch and subsequent releases, all the AMP horrors, working on my own manuscripts and getting ready for World Fantasy Convention in San Diego next week, my sense of humor has pretty much evaporated. Add in the fact that I turned forty-five a couple of days ago (quel horreur!), that Aurora the Regency line turned one, Aurora the toddler turns two tomorrow and my husband's birthday is Friday and it's no wonder that the only thing I laughed at today was a very unworthy thought that flitted around my mind about someone who wasn't there to defend themselves. (Never fear--I jotted down the notes so I can incorporate that thought into a Jack the Ripper story coming soon near you!)

At any rate, when I'm in a non-humorous mood I usually end up reading submissions. Somehow, I've convinced my subconscious that I am less likely to contract a mediocre book when I'm foul-tempered. Fortunately, that philosophy has been working out fairly well so far.

As I was going through requested fulls, I came across a story that struck a chord with me. I was actually pretty excited by it. So I put the story on the to be contracted list and moved on to the next.

But the story wouldn't get out of my head. Normally, this is a GREAT thing. When a story keeps pestering me while I read other submissions usually means I've landed on something really great. But that's not really why I was obsessing on this story.

No--I had the feeling I'd read that story before.

I use Firefox Thunderbird to coordinate all my various email accounts. So I ran a search on the book title and came up with nothing unusual. That should have been the end of the matter, but it wasn't. I pored over the correspondence the author and I'd had and couldn't find anything to explain that niggling little feeling at the back of my mind that had been pestering me all night. I pulled the story back up and read it again. Yep. I had read that story somewhere before. I double-checked the query letter to make sure that wasn't a rights reverted book. No indication of that. I was about to give up when something made me run a search on the author's email address.

And I hit pay dirt.

I had read that story before! In fact, I'd read it at Aspen Mountain Press a few months ago. But--strangely enough, the story had had a different title. Different character names. The author's name was slightly different. Now I was even more curious. The story was good; not outstanding, but a nice, easy edit and could be turned over quickly. So why were all those alarm bells sounding in my head? Just to set my mind at rest, I googled the original title and author name.

Everything became clear.

The book was already published--had just BEEN published, in fact, by another company. I went to the sales page for the book and pulled up the excerpt. Then I entered the first five or six words of the excerpt into the *Find* box of the manuscript and--lo and behold!--the excerpt on the sales page began in the second paragraph of page five in the manuscript in my hand.

The author was a self-plagiarist. By changing the names and the title of the book, he was trying to sell rights to a manuscript that he no longer had to sell. On top of that, the original manuscript had been contracted by AMP. So two publishers already owned the publication rights the authors was trying to sell to me!

I wasn't the acquisitions editor who'd read the original manuscript; I'd found the manuscript in the AMP email accounts when I took over and skimmed through the story then.

Now, let me be frank: the author is a good writer. The story was well-told. But just changing character names or titles does NOT make a manuscript new intellectual property. Save for the name changes, the two manuscripts were word for word identical.

I'd heard of self-plagiarism. I'm guilty of snatching scenes from trunked novels fifteen years ago and making them work in some new story. But I never would have thought of retitling The Reckoning of Asphodel or Bride of Death and submitting them to a different publisher while they were still under contract. After all, I would get busted. No one kills an Elf like me. But also, I think a bit more logically. Why take the risk? Why publish a competing version of a book already on the market? Why not...write something new?

There just wasn't a way to give this writer the benefit of the doubt. One doesn't mistakenly change the names and title and submit an already and recently published book to a new company--one where the chances of discovery were slimmer. But in the end, how could the writer ever have guessed that the editorial director at this new house had actually read the manuscript before?

These days with the caching capabilities of computers and internet search engines, you'd have to be really...well, stupid to think that no one would catch on. It's not like this book was near the end of the contract either--the other publisher had released the story under its original name in June of this year. And yet three months later, the same story was submitted to Musa?

No, I don't think this was any kind of accident. As much as I'd like to find a way for this to be accidental, I just can't. And now there's a writer--a darn good writer too--whose work I will never be able to trust as original.

In the end, that's just another lesson I needed to learn. I informed the author's publisher of what had happened, forwarding the manuscripts I'd been sent and filed the correspondence away in what my husband not-so-jokingly calls my jackass folder. And man, oh man am I grateful that I listened to that niggling little voice in my head.

Shame that little voice was silent all through my twenties. I'd be a lot richer today if I'd listened then.

Breaking The Silence on Aspen Mountain Press Part Two

2011-10-15T00:34:00.000-04:00

Today's post will be much shorter. The past couple of days have been very wearing on me. And I do have a business to run instead of forever worrying about what's going on with Aspen Mountain Press.

Here are Aspen Mountain Press's and owner Sandra Hicks's responses today.

1) Today the Aspen Mountain Press website went back online. None of the out of contract books were taken down. The site has not been updated. AMP authors believe that after being served with a DMCA notice and having the site taken down, AMP has just moved to a new host.

2) After her post of yesterday morning (that you can see here on my blog) where she assured the authors that she had the money to pay the authors, today she told an author that she actually has NO money to pay the authors and that she isn't worried about criminal charges because she hasn't done anything wrong.

3) One author received a rights reversion in the mail today, but when the site went back up all of her books were still on it and still offered for sale.

Okay, let's just be blunt here. I'm not sure what happened to Ms. Hicks to such a degree that yesterday, she claimed there was money for all the authors but today, she claims there is none. Unless I get a sizable check in the mail in the next couple of days for the salary and royalties I'm owed, I'm going to assume the funds that AMP should be holding for its authors in a standard royalties arrangement, money that does NOT belong to AMP but belongs to its writers and editors who are owed money, has been used for purposes other than what they are intended to be used for.

This is October. Third party sites usually pay 45-60 days after the end of the quarter for those quarterly sales. So AMP was paid in May for the first quarter; August for the second quarter; and should be paid in November for the third quarter. AMP authors and staff should receive royalties 45 days after the end of the month that is the pay period. So July should have been paid in September, August in October and so forth. So at this moment, in addition to all the AMP website payments--also paid 45 days after the end of the pay period--AMP authors are unpaid for one quarter and soon to be TWO quarters of third party sites, THREE months of AMP web sales and Amazon sales, PLUS any unpaid royalties from previous pay periods.

Where exactly DID those thousands of dollars of sales go? The last quarter I did editor royalties for before we took over, a royalties quarter missing over a hundred already-released titles on third party sites, the sum of AMP royalties for the quarter were substantial. The months of June and July, the senior staff put all those books up for sale on the third party sites (hours they never got paid for) and AMP posted an average sales increase for that month in the double digits. Significant double digits. I can put together a fairly accurate estimate of royalties for both those quarters and probably low ball it in the process. If I were really ambitious, and I may be, I could just go through the AMP sales records in my possession from my tenure as managing editor this summer and figure out EXACTLY how much AMP got paid.

I think there needs to be an accounting for those funds IMMEDIATELY. We are NOT talking about small change here. We are talking about six months of sales on third party sites, three months of sales on Amazon and the AMP website and for the first of those two quarters I have the figures sitting right in front of me. So, let me reiterate: I KNOW HOW MUCH ASPEN MOUNTAIN PRESS WAS PAID FOR THE SECOND QUARTER OF 2011. I can hazard a VERY good educated guess about what AMP was/will be paid for the THIRD quarter of 2011. Actually, I know how much Aspen Mountain Press was paid for all of 2010 and half of 2009 too.

And if the owner of AMP does NOT have the money--then where is it?

We may never know.

Regardless of what happened with the money issues, these facts are patently clear:

1) AMP authors have still NOT been paid the royalties due them.

2) AMP staff members have NOT been paid the royalties due them.

3) The AMP website miraculously returned to the Internet today, which couldn't have happened if the owner was incapacitated.

4) When the site went back up, AMP still had the out of contract books still offered for sale.

5) Even authors who received letters of rights reversion in the mail today are STILL seeing their books offered for sale on the AMP website.

AMP authors need to know and follow through on this one major, unavoidable fact: Aspen Mountain Press is CONTRACTUALLY REQUIRED to present each author a royalty statement for each month's check with the reasonable measures of available technology. Even if you did not make any sales, Aspen Mountain Press is CONTRACTUALLY REQUIRED to send you a royalty statement for that month. The contract clause regarding this reads as follows:

XIII. Payments and Statements
Publisher shall pay Author royalties in accordancewith a schedule to be determined at Publisher’s discretion but in no eventshall payment be made later than forty-five (45) days from the end of the monthroyalties are collected. Royalties willbe calculated from the first of the month through the last day of the samemonth. Payment shall be made by Paypal,or corporate check, to Author or Author’s authorized agent.

Author understands that royalties will be paid in thefollowing month copies of the Work are paid for by consumers, distributors orvendors, not to exceed forty-five (45) days after the end of the paymentperiod. If distributors or vendors delaypayment to Publisher, Publisher is not obligated to pay the royalty until ithas been paid by the distributor or vendor.

Publisher agrees to take such reasonable measures asPublisher’s sales technology permits to obtain and include, in royaltystatements, information about the number of copies created, shipped, sold, andif appropriate, returned for each Digital / Print Format edition of the Workwhether sold from Publisher’s website or through other channels ofdistribution.

Let me tell you what reasonable measures you have to take to show the sales for a specific work in a given month. I'll work with one of my books. You go to the spreadsheet, you select the row of the book, you copy and then you--:

Metamorphosis *editor name* 0 $0.00 0 $0.00 0 $0.00 0 $0.00 0 $0.00 0 $0.00 0.00 0.00

--paste the numbers into another document.

I timed myself; that took two seconds,

The 'reasonable measure' you need to take, the 'reasonable measure' of technology you need is the following: a spreadsheet, provided by the vendors; a new document or email to paste into; and a computer.

If you want to get REALLY fancy, you paste a line up top that has the column names in it. Here, let me show you:

Title Editor Amazon-May Sales FW-1stqtr Sales Bookstrand 1 qtr Sales ARE 1st qtr Sales 1PR 1st qtr Sales AMP-May Sales New Release Other CK AMT

Metamorphosis *editor name* 0 $0.00 0 $0.00 0 $0.00 0 $0.00 0 $0.00 0 $0.00 0.00 0.00

(On a wider screen it lines up better. But this is still not incomprehensible.)

For editor royalties, all you have to do is copy and paste ALL the books/lines under that editor's name--a task I made much simpler and easier by putting BIG RED LINES in between each editor on the spreadsheet. You don't even have to use a calculator, because I set up the spreadsheet with the formulas needed so the program did the math for you.

But even without the royalty statements, AMP is in breach of contract for NON PAYMENT OF ROYALTIES for over TWO months at midnight. Three months is...ninety days, give or take. AMP will hit that ninety day mark with almost every author and staff member on November 15.

AMP has resurrected its website and kept for one purpose and one purpose only: to continue to sell books as long as possible. The owner believes that the 90 day clause to address breaches of contract is protecting her--that NONE of these complaints are really problems because she has that ninety day clause. That is NOT how it works. The 90 days clause is there to protect the owner against ACCIDENTAL breaches of contract, not flagrant violations of every contract in the company. And, it seems like she will go on intentionally refusing to release authors who have not been paid in well over 90 days. Here, too, is where the certified and registered letters piling up in her mailbox comes into play. She seems to think that if she personally does not sign for a certified or registered letter, then the 90 period outlined in the contract for breaches has not been triggered.

She appears to be unaware that the countdown on the 90-day clock started the moment an employee of Mailboxes, who is an agent for her, signed for those pieces of mail.

AMP has used up what good faith it once had. There is no reason for anyone to believe that AMP intends to pay its authors or staff. Whether these concerns are intentional on the owner's part or the result of some external factors that prevent her from understanding the potentially devastating consequences to her if she continues to play ducks and drakes with money that is not rightfully hers I cannot and do not know.

But I do know this: today, AMP took a major step backwards. AMP is now no longer a publisher. Now Aspen Mountain Press is nothing more than an electronic pirate, capitalizing off the stranded and breached contracts of authors the company is refusing to let go.

For me, in the end, this isn't about the money. I honestly believe that many AMP authors would be willing to forgive their back royalties in exchange for the rights to their books. For me, this is about the books and the authors who are trapped by this publisher. Whether the owner's intentions are good and she just can't face up to the amount of work that's needed to rectify the problems at AMP or whether she is intentionally withholding funds and causing hardship for her authors and staff is no longer the question.

The question is: how can these authors and their intellectual property be freed from a non-functional publisher?

Breaking My Silence on Aspen Mountain Press

2011-10-13T20:49:00.000-04:00

Originally, I'd planned to write a completely different blogpost from the one I am now putting out there. I was going to trace the history I have with Aspen Mountain Press andthe disintegration of the business, ending with how and why the senior staff allwalked out at the end of July. But aftera very disturbing post by AMP's owner, Sandra Hicks, on the AMP Authors yahooloop this morning—a loop I and other authors to whom AMP owes a lot of moneywere banned from because we were too outspoken—I think it's better to just cutto the chase and then to go through some of her responses. I believe it's essential that what ishappening at AMP is brought fully into perspective. And,since I have kept every email correspondence, every royalties report from AMPand third party sites, and chat transcripts of every staff meeting with Ms.Hicks this summer, I'm in a unique position.

I'm one of the few people in the world who knows exactlywhat happened to AMP and has the documentation to prove it.

The disaster at AMP was a drawn-out affair, one that severalpeople tried to address. At this timelast year, Lori Basiewicz was the managing editor of AMP and I was the headeditor and solely in charge of the Aurora Regency imprints—a line I'd built andworked on myself.

My first indication that anything was wrong came when one ofmy authors at Aurora Regency—a writer who was in my writing group, who was adear friend, who was someone whose integrity I trusted absolutely—wrote to mein concern because she hadn't received her royalties. Lori and I struggled to find out what wasgoing on, pleading with Ms. Hicks to address the problems with royalties thatwere starting to build up with our authors. None of the authors receivedregular royalty statements after August of 2010, so there was no way todetermine if they sold any books or if there was an oversight. This was resulting in an atmosphere ofserious distrust—an atmosphere Lori and I bore the brunt of because Ms. Hickswasn't answering any emails. Eventually,last March, Lori couldn't take the lack of communication anymore. She resigned, and I was the only visible facefor the management of AMP.

To be perfectly fair and up front, Ms. Hicks WAS dealing with several physical ailments that rendered her unable to maintain the day to day activities of a publishing house. That is not in question and never has been.

I'd been scheduled for serious surgery, one with a recoverytime that was long enough that I knew I needed to make arrangements for theoperation of Aurora Regency in my absence. So, I emailed the owner, Sandra Hicks, and held off scheduling my surgeryuntil we had agreed upon how Aurora Regency would be handed in my absence. When over a week had passed with no responsefrom Ms. Hicks, I got angry and sent an email to her, forwarding the message tothe entire senior staff. Here's part ofit, from June 19, 2011:

Because of your inattention, you have lost staff, authors and books. And the flood is not only continuing, but growing rapidly. As a result, my income is going to drop substantially. I've lost three authors and their books in two months--*author names removed*. All three of them have devout followings and readerships. AMP can't afford the loss of any authors or books, particularly since Aurora is now responsible for roughly half of AMP's releases which was not the intended purpose of the line. I wasn't supposed to have to carry the release schedule.

As a result, here's what I expect to happen during my three months' absence, which is now effective immediately. I expect my royalties paid on time every month, both as a writer and a editor. I expect statements with those royalties so I know what I'm being paid for. I expect the Aurora releases to come out on time and in good shape, for my authors to get copies of their books upon release and for THEM to get their royalties on time and with royalty statements. If, for any reason, these conditions are not met, my leave of absence will become permanent. I will not return to a big old mess.

I've come to the conclusion that the only way you're going to bestir yourself enough to care about AMP and its writers, editors and staff is to return to the days when you have to do it all yourself. And the fact you didn't even respond to an email as important as the first one I sent is insulting.

I demanded these things because they hadn't been happeningat AMP for some time. That email got therest of the senior staff involved—involved to the point that Kelly Shorten, ourart director, telephoned Ms. Hicks who was in a panic. The result of that conversation was that Ms. Hicks would immediately turn over running of the company to the senior staff,that a qualified bookkeeper would be brought in to straighten out the mess ofAMP royalties, and that we would have the power to do whatever it took to bringthe company back. We also made a pact among ourselves, the four of us: if, forany reason, we found something that would make us consider quitting, we wouldall quit. We would not enable Ms. Hicksany further. We were staying for the authors, to make sure they were paid whatthey were supposed to be paid on books that went out well-edited and packaged,on the scheduled release date and uploaded to third party sites. I personallywould get as much done editorially as possible and stabilize the company, sothat I could have my surgery and be reassured that the company wouldn't gounder due to no management in my absence.

What we discovered when we took over was a nightmare:

Hundreds of emails in all the AMP accounts, gone unansweredand unopened from authors and staff. Thecustomer service email account alone had over 500 unanswered emails over theprevious eight months. That took twopeople working eight hours to resolve—and in the process, we discovered afrighteningly large number of AMP books that had serious formatting problemsfor a long time.

Authors who were contracted and never heard back from thecompany, leaving their books unpublished and their rights tied up. I found books from two years previously thatwere still stranded by AMP, the authors begging to just get a response fromsomebody…anybody.

The royalties were such a mess that the bookkeeper, KerryMand, elected to concentrate on just getting that month's royalties out andworking on some of the most pressing cases before working backwards through thebooks and auditing a year's worth of royalty spreadsheets and reports--a courseof action I agreed with. We discoveredthat in previous months, only portions of the royalties had been paid at anygiven time.

Two weeks from the time that we took over, the only releasesscheduled at AMP were Aurora Regency books—books that I was personally handlingand scheduling. Nothing else. The last scheduled AMP book for release was onJuly 18. The rest was all AuroraRegencies and one Christmas title at AMP, scheduled by Lori before she left.

The submissions account had not been opened since Lori hadresigned three months prior. I wentthrough all those submissions and answered every single one since March of2011, even connecting with authors who'd been contracted before Lori was the managing editor and forgotten. I got all those lost books on the release schedule and to editors, who I hired. The books were edited, proofed by me and uploaded to a special file where ready-to-be-published books were kept.

Yep. Everything was an absolute nightmare. We worked sevendays a week, up to twenty hours a day. And we made positive changes toAMP. We got over a year's worth of booksuploaded to the third party sites. Weupdated and improved the website. We planned and scheduled a new imprint foronly speculative fiction. We created newemails for author concerns and staff concerns, keeping those emails out of thesubmissions account. We developed apolicy between the four of us that NO email at AMP would remain unanswered forlonger than six hours. We released achunk of authors who'd been trying to get their rights back in the previousmonths. The owner initially balked atthat but I pointed out that unhappy authors would be detrimental to what wetrying to build and eventually, reluctantly, she agreed. I got all the contracted books on the release schedule and to editors, who I hired. The books were edited, proofed by me and uploaded to a special file where ready-to-be-published books were kept.

We scheduled AMP through the end of the year, with multiple releases each week—and many of those books were the ones that had dropped through the cracks.

After a couple of weeks, things were starting to look up. Theauthors were happy again, beginning to believe in AMP once more. And in that first month of our leadership atAMP, we posted a huge increase in sales.

But as Kerry got further into the royalties at AMP, the moreconcerned we all became. The art director and bookkeeper asked for—andwere empowered to use—the AMP Paypal andbank accounts. All four of us were working with those accounts and past royalty spreadsheets so we could try to match payments to sales. In other words, to make sure all the authors were paid for every single book sale.

Kerry had managed to get the royalties done ahead ofschedule, and sent the royalties to Ms. Hicks to pay. On July 15^th, we were all sorelieved. The royalties were done andthe authors would be paid on time. Butby the 18^th, we started to get a lot of emails: the publisher didn'tpay the darn royalties! AMP paid only afew authors and then stopped. So Iemailed the owner. No answer. I called her. No answer. I texted her.

Finally, she responded. When I asked her why the royalties hadn't been paid, she said that toher knowledge, they all had been. Wewere online IN the bank account and Paypal, trying to match authors (and pennames) to amounts to see who'd went unpaid. And as I asked her about a specificauthor, we watched the payment go out from that account. Then she texted meback each time and said that I was mistaken, that author had been paid.

Up until that moment, I believed that all the problems atAMP were unintentional, and that there wasn't a chance of dishonesty on thepart of the owner. But that, whenconsidered along with everything else, made me suspicious for the firsttime. After that, we couldn't believeMs. Hicks when she told us she'd paid for something. So we began to monitor thebank account. It was essential that weknew what the financial situation of the company was before we did or saidanything to the authors about their royalties. We'd taken over and were so proud of the fact that the royalties weredone—and correctly—and then the payments weren't made, which made us look likewe were incompetent. It was then that westarting noticing some peculiar activities in the AMP bank account.

The owner was using the business's bank account for personalexpenses.

Kerry worked backwards through the bank accounts andspreadsheets, arriving at the amount of back royalties an author was owed, theowner would go behind our backs and tell the author that WE were wrong and theauthor had already been paid most of that amount.

In the meantime, we were seeing these personal expenses—for food,souvenirs, car payments, doctors visits—coming out of the AMP account. We decided to confront the owner about thisin our weekly Skype conference—a system I preferred to use because we couldkeep transcripts. When we pleaded withthe owner to separate her personal expenses from the company's, to set up amonthly draw account that would be a percentage of profits—so that we wouldn'thave the appearance of impropriety—she refused. She also implied that we had used her Paypal account without herknowledge to pay a long overdue bill for advertising—when we'd mentionedmultiple times during that conversation that we were doing so AT THE TIME. REALtime.

We were all so angry at that time that Dominique suggestedwe stop the meeting, take a deep breath, think things through and meet againthe following day when everyone was calmer.

Unfortunately, even though we tried, the owner would notbudge. She apologized for what happenedthe day before, assuring us that she didn't mean to question our use of thePaypal account to pay an advertising bill as dishonest or inappropriate. But she wouldn't budge off the personalexpenses. She said the income of AMP was too irregular to establish a drawaccount for a percentage of the income.

At that point, I made an offer to buy AMP. She replied thatshe wouldn't sell for less than a quarter of a million dollars. I tried to purchase the two imprints I'dbuilt—the Aurora Regency line that was nearly a year old and the Auraspeculative fiction line that was scheduled to launch in October. She refused. So there was nothing left to do but announce our resignation from AMP tothe authors, turn over everything we'd done to AMP, and leave.

As a result of all this, we decided to open our ownpublishing house, Musa Publishing, where we would address all the issues we hadwith AMP in advance. Ms. Hicks had assured us she was going to close AMPbecause we had left, so we wanted to create a haven for AMP authors—a housewhere their books could be reissued as soon as possible.

Once we'd left and were building Musa as fast as we could,Ms. Hicks contacted me again to offer me the chance to buy the Aurora Regencyimprint and AMP. We agreed on Aurora andshe dropped the price for AMP down to a more realistic but still high number. The four of us discussed the amount and refused the offer. We had put our financial resources into Musaand couldn't afford to take on AMP with all the lingering problems there. She then offered to sell us individualcontracts/books. So we considered it,added up the amount of back pay and royalties AMP owed us, and offered anexchange: we would forgive our entire back salary and all my future earnings asan editor who'd done 75% of the books released by AMP the previous year inexchange for approximately 65 book contracts. Our plan was to immediately release thoseauthors from their contracts. We wouldoffer contracts to Musa to each author—an offer they were not obligated totake. The four of us thought it wasworth forgiving the money owed to us in order to free as many authors/books aswe could.

But as soon as Ms. Hicks received our check for the Aurora Regency imprint, she abruptly decidedagainst the deal we'd been working for the individual contracts—a deal that wasHER initial plan. She cashed our check for AR immediately, and then proceededto breach the remainder of the contract. The website was not turned over by the agreed-upon date. The books werenot removed from the third party sites; we ended up doing that ourselves. Aside from the communications with us, whichshe terminated as soon as she got some money, she made very few attempts tocommunicate with the authors in her company.

Until today.

Today, Ms. Hicks finally answered a post on the AMP Authorsloop from a stranded AMP author—an author I contracted as managing editor, anauthor who has no editor, no cover art, no publication, and has had noanswers. His post--minus his name—and Ms. Hicks' repliesare below. My comments are in between each section.

Author) Do you intendreturning answering queries, letters etc? What is the time
span involved so we know when to expect an answer from you?

Ms. Hicks) In all fairness, I can't tell you what sort of time frame toexpect an answer
in, except to say that I am working on them. It takes timeto respond to
THREATS such as the one Wells made and take care of otherbusiness matters AND
attend to my health needs and the work that must be done inraising my son
alone.

The *threat* Ms. Hicks is referring to occurred when theauthor in question, Charles Wells, served a DMCA notice to the domain host and the AMP website was takendown temporarily. The website that, bythe way, AMP has not paid the designer for. AMP authors have served similar notices to AMP's third party distributors. AMP books are coming or have come down at many online retailers, particularly the large number of out-of-contract books that up until now, AMP has not removed from their home website or third party retailers despite numerous attempts by the affected authors.

Author) Do you intendreturning rights to authors who have asked for them?

Ms. Hicks) Not in all cases. All who've asked will be getting apersonalized letter from
me through the mail system explaining what I am deciding andwhy.

A personalized letter through the mail system would have togo through her post office box, where scores of unaccepted registered lettersand snail mailed demands to take out of contract books off the AMP sites or notices of breach of contracts havebeen accumulating dust and not been answered. That address is a Mailboxes storefront a few blocks, I understand, from the owner's home.

Author) If YES,when can we expect to have the documentation?

Ms. Hicks) When I get to the requests, I am writing a letter andmailing it to the authors.

Author) If NO, can you please use this Loop to advise who yesand who not? If NO, can
you please explain why you intend holding on to authors thathave lost faith in
AMP?

Ms. Hicks) Losing faith in a company does not void a contract. Anybusiness matters are
between the author and AMP. If the author wishes to makethose matters public,
they will. I won't violate their privacy in that way. It istheir own
decision.

Additionally, I'd like to tell the members here that this isnot a business
MEETING loop. I've posted a few announcements in the past,and participated in
some general chat, but I don't use this for meetingpurposes.

"Losing faith in a company does not void acontract." And yet, let's take alook at the breaches of contract all AMP authors are experiencing. Unpaid royalties. No royalty statements. Nobooks published in nine weeks and only two since the end of July—and they werelate. A website that is out of date (and not paid for). No web presence, sinceone needs to actually participate in conversations to be considered apresence. No response to emails, snailmailed letters or registered letters. Out of contract books still being sold at AMP and on third party siteswhile the authors don't get paid for them. No editors. No art staff. No signature pages signed by the publisher forcontracts.

Those things DO void a contract.

And after months of not responding to communications by email, text, phone call, or certified letter, why wouldn't the authors bring up issues regarding the publisher at a Yahoo loop designed by the company to discuss issues within the publisher?

Author) Do you intend paying royalties AND supplying sales statementsin toto as per the contract? When can those owed money expect to be paid?

Ms. Hicks) Yes, I will be paying royalties and statements, but as ofthe moment they are on
the back burner as I deal with all the other threats to thecompany, and the
requests to relinquish contracts.

*bolding mine*

Wait a second—paying royalties that will be three monthspast due on October 15^th is on the back burner because of threats tothe company and all the reversion of rights letters? So what Ms. Hicks is saying here is that aslong as the AMP authors are in active rebellion against her, she will continueto NOT pay royalties. Paying authors and staff the money due them should be theTOP PRIORITY here, regardless of whether the author/staff member is speakingpublicly about what happened as AMP. She's holding authors' money hostage, the same way she's holding theirbooks hostage, until they shut up and sit down.

That's my take on the situation, at least. I could be wrong. If someone can put a different interpretation on this for me, please do.

Author) Do you intend removing out of contract books fromthe AMP web site and
within what time frame? Bear in mind many third party siteshave already done so
on request from authors who have provided documentaryevidence of the end of
contract...

Ms. Hicks) Yes, but again, I can't provide an exact time frame.Interestingly enough, some
of the authors who have sort of provided evidence have alsonegatively affected
authors that wish to remain with AMP. Any of the threatsthat are coming from
in force contracts can cause issues for the authors. Thisespecially is true in
light of the clause to redress breaches. A scanned copy ofthe clause with the
authors signature eliminates the DRM violation claims.

What authors wish to remain published by a company thatdoesn't pay them royalties? I'd like about a hundred of those--with bestselling books of course--to submit to me.

Smart comments and pipe dreams aside, the clausein the AMP contract to redress breaches reads as follows:

A). Breach of Contract

If either party breachesthis Agreement, the non-breaching party shall provide written notice bycertified mail to the breaching party of the alleged breach.

Upon receipt of such notice,the breaching party shall have ninety (90) days to cure. At the expiration of such ninety (90) dayperiod, upon failure to cure, this Agreement shall terminate, except asotherwise provided herein or otherwise agreed in writing by both partieshereto.

Author) Do you intendcontinuing business with AMP?

Ms. Hicks) Yes. I put a lot of love and time into AMP. Am I ill? Yes.Is AMP ill, yes.
This situation has certainly given me a load of things toconsider. What if I'd
had a heart attack or ended up in a coma? I have to developa system to provide
back up for such scenarios.

She used to have a staff to provide back up for suchscenarios—a staff that resigned en masse when she refused to remove herpersonal expenses from the company's. And now, it's going to be very hard tofind a new staff when the old staff is owed thousands of dollars in back andfuture pay. Why would anyone think thatAMP would pay a new staff when they don't pay the old one or the authors? And, to be honest, the other staff members and myself were the ones carrying the load of AMP for a year before our resignation. Lori Basiewicz, the managing editor before me, and I were carrying on without guidance or even assistance from Ms. Hicks for months. We weren't doing that for her, but for the authors who were relying on AMP's integrity with their intellectual property and income.

Also, let's be perfectly frank here. Ms. Hicks hasn't had a heart attack or a stroke. Her health permitted her to make this statement today without any trouble or turmoil. Her health permitted her to drive to the bank and cash a check. Her health permits her to do many, many things--but not, apparently, to answer an email, cut a check, type out a royalty statement, or anything that might benefit her authors and staff.

Author) If Yes, please statewhen we can expend within what time frame it will do so
and also do you intend doing so with authors who no longerwish to be identifies
with it?

Ms. Hicks) The first thing I am doing is reading and responding toauthors. Each is
individual, case-by-case. Just because some authors nolonger wish to be
identified with AMP does not negate their contracts. I and Ialone will make
that decision, on a case-by-case basis as I look to thefuture.

What negates their contracts is months withoutroyalties. And when the author sends theregistered letter as specified in the AMP contract, the publisher evades activating that 90 day period by refusing to accept the certified letters.

Also, these complaints have been ongoing for over a year. Is she saying that in all that time, she is only NOW reading authors' emails?

Author) If NO, when can we expect the return of rights letters,payments, etc, that
will avoid legal action on the part of those owed money?

Ms. Hicks) As stated before it is one thing at a time. Having been anauthor, I know the
return of my intellectual property is more important thananything else. That
said, I would seriously consider how much attorney fees costand weigh them
against what I believe I'm owed. Aspen has the money to payits authors, but
being one person at this time, I have made the decision tohandle the rights
requests first.

*bolding mine*

In other words, Ms. Hicks is threatening the authors, implying that it would be more expensive and a more lengthy process to force AMP to pay royalties than it would be to justshut up and not make too much noise about this, and that since they're complaining she's just going to work on the rights issues on a case by case basis, therefore delaying any attempts to pay the royalties. Aspen Mountain Press probably does have the money to pay its authors, seeing as second quarter royalties from the third party sites were just paid out. She is electing, however, to ignore those royalties as a punishment for bad behavior.

And as an author who knows the return of intellectual property is more important than anything else, AMP's owner, who suffered as an author from the Triskelion debacle, is proving stubbornly resistant to returning anyone's intellectual property despite the numerous and egregious breaches AMP has committed on every single contract in the past 14 months.

Author) At this stage I thinkthese are the main themes authors are worried about and
I ask, on behalf of all of them to give answersas soon as possible.

While we all knowabout your personal problems and many have wished you the
best for them. You should also beaware that this situation have caused all of us to suffer anziety(sic),depression, and other problems caused by stress. Do you truly believe that itis fair, or worse still, legally defendable refusing to face up to thissituation?

Ms. Hicks) Actually, yes, it isdefendable as I have sought documented treatment for my medical issues aswell as the depression. It is not a refusal to face the
situation, it is an inability due to depression. And forthose that are
suffering anxiety, and depression, then I would surelyexpect them to be more
compassionate of the anxiety and depression I am suffering.Do I believe it is
fair? Of course not. I don't believe it is fair for a personto suffer cancer,
lose a loved one, get laid off from a job they've worked atfor 20 years. Some
thing just have to behandled one thing at a time, one day at a time. Seems tome like there was aboatload of people who got paid just last month (and no,they did not gettheir statements, they are sitting in my flash drive) And as a clarification to many of you, right or wrong, Imade the decision that it was better you got your money than the statement. Cuttingthe checks actually took less time than attaching the document andemailing it individually. Now,that said, some of you think I owe you money that I actually
did pay--you did notcash your checks. There is ample proof of that in the bank account. Will I send statements? Yes. When, notuntil I can get people paid.

Have I not answeredemails? Yes. Why? Bad news upon bad news only deepens depression, doesn'thelp it at all. For those who have known me since the very early days of ourwriting careers and the beginning of this company, you knowthat I don't speakill of others, and that I haven't treated you badly. Am I coming out of this? With professional help. I don'tknow what sort of time frame to expect for that either. Some days are better thanothers. Right now I've upped my workquotient to about 2 hours a day. Upped. Is that great...depends where you are. Right now for me it is-two yearsago-I was
putting in twelve to fourteen hours a day and editing aswell. I was also writing. Now compared to then? Bad. Perspective has a lot ofpower.

Even answering thispost has zapped a lot of the energy I had for the day. Again, to all of you who've put in requests, watch the mail.You are getting signed hard copies related to your requests.

*bolding is all mine—not the author's or Ms. Hicks*

When I was sent this post this morning by multiple authors,I literally felt ill. Ms. Hicks actually thinks that she is in the right! That NOT paying authors and staff isdefensible! That a 'boatload' of people got paid just last month!

That two hours is day is somehow work, when a few months agoAMP had people working 16-20 hours a day to try to save the company.

That due to her personal illness and her documentation of treatment, she has a legal defense NOT TO PAY THE AUTHORS TO WHOM SHE OWES MONEY? I've never heard of a court anywhere that lets a contract employer refuse to pay people who have fulfilled their end of a contract because the employer is ill. Never. And usually, if a legal entity like a company refuses to or cannot pay its employees, the doors are shut and all contracts are immediately terminated. If I'm incorrect, I'd love to see a post from an attorney pointing out where my logic is wrong.

In the end, I don't know who got paid; I know who DIDN'T get paid—I knowI didn't: either my regular author royalties, my editor royalties, mypercentage of sales for Aurora Regency or my percentage of sales for my role asthe AMP managing editor. I know thatKelly Shorten, the web designer and art director, did not get paid the backsalary and contracted labor (website building, maintenance and design, thedatabase, shopping cart system) AMP owes her. Not a dime, when it's impossibleto run on online business without those things—things AMP is still using evennow I know that Kerry Mand, the bookkeeper we brought in to fix the AMP accountingdidn't get paid the hundreds dollars AMP owes her. I know that Dominique Eastwick didn't getpaid the full amount of money owed to her for promotions, formatting anduploading books to third party sites.

And yet, when our company bought the Aurora Regency imprints, we paid AMP immediately. And despite her illness, Ms. Hicks was certainly well enough at that time to drive immediately to her bank and cash that check, but was not well enough to fulfill the remainder of the contract OR to pay any of us, authors, editors and staff, some of the thousands of dollars she owes us.

This is what I know.

There may be some authors who got paid; I can't say thatthey didn't. But I know for a FACT thatthe authors who have been the most vocal about AMP issues have not been paid.Not a penny. Not since the royalties thesenior staff sent out when we were running AMP. These are the same people Ms.Hicks banned from the company yahoo loop along with me, people who wereunwilling to keep quiet about the concern they felt for their books,their publications schedules, and their money.

In the end, the senior staff left AMP because we could not have our namesand reputations associated with a publisher who put her personal needs abovethe needs of her authors and staff, who thinks it's acceptable to contractbooks and then either not publish them or not pay the author royalties on thosesales, who believes that somehow SHE is the victim here and not the scores ofpeople who've been left without income, who thinks that just by ignoringemails, phone calls and registered letters everything will just go away.

This publisher, once a leading ebook house with anowner/publisher whose integrity was accepted without question is the selfsamepublisher now holding books and authors alike hostage, threatening tocontinue to NOT pay them if they speak out publicly against AMP because her twohours of work a day will be spent dealing with "threats" to the company.

I once said on this blog that I would never discuss thereasons the senior staff resigned at Aspen Mountain Press. Now I have to consider that one of thebiggest mistakes I've ever made. But I—andthe other staffers who left—had hopes that the publisher would do the rightthing: reverting all rights to the authors, paying out the royalties due, andclosing up shop. In fact, we were toldthat was what would happen at our last meeting at AMP, the same meeting wherewe were told she would not sell AMP for less than two hundred and fiftythousand dollars.

I have empathized with Ms. Hicks's personal situation. For along time, I protected her because of it. In other words, I enabled her to do exactly what she is doing rightnow. For that, I've borne a terriblesense of responsibility when I listen to the authors at AMP and their distressand anger toward the publisher. Peopleare at AMP who would never have been trapped if I hadn't encouraged them to submitto MY publisher, the one publisher in the world I was certain would never cheator deprive her authors and staff.

I hope this is all unnecessary. I hope that Ms. Hicks, whomeant so much to me as a friend and mentor, will still manage to do the rightthing. But I don't condone holdingauthors' books and royalties hostage contingent upon their good behavior. This is business, not a preschool. My money doesn't go to timeout because I acted out. There area lot of ugly, legal terms one could use here—terms that I'm certain will beused in multiple court cases already peeking over the horizon.

So I think it's time to break the silence on this matter, time to let theworld know once and for all what's really happened at AMP in my experience, inthe hopes that somehow this knowledge might help to break the hold AspenMountain Press and its owner currently has on its authors and staff. I have documents to verify everything I've said.

Publishers need to be heldaccountable for their actions. It istime now for Aspen Mountain Press to pay what they owe.

Give the authorstheir rights back.

Give the authors an internal audit of the books.

Pay the authors and staff what they are owed.

And shut the doors on a one-time great little publisher thatis now the biggest cautionary tale of all.

And a special note to AMP authors, editors and staff--please post a comment on this blog detailing exactly the breaches of your contract. Tell us the last time you were paid, the last time you got a royalty statement. Let us know how you tried to contact Sandra Hicks, the owner of AMP, and how many times. Let us know what she has said in response to you. And I will continue to compile my articles and blogs about Aspen Mountain Press, complete with documentation, for publication at a later date. I also encourage you all to report Aspen Mountain Press directly to watchdog sites and blogs. Go to Preditors and Editors, or Piers Anthony's e-publishing blog. Absolute Write has an active thread detailing the disintegration of Aspen Mountain Press. Go to any writers guild you belong to, like SFWA or RWA.

It's time for you to break the silence as well.

Almost Time

2011-09-30T18:15:00.000-04:00

Wow. My publishing company, Musa Publishing, is six hours away from opening.

I'm not going to blog much about Musa here. This is my writing blog, not my Musa blog. But today is kind of a special day for me. All those times I sat around in my darkened office, grumbling over a beer and a smoke and saying, "If I was a publisher, I wouldn't be THIS stupid." are coming back to haunt me now. Now OTHER people will be saying that about ME.

Hopefully not.

At the moment, I think we're in outstanding shape. We have a HUGE release schedule, going to 7 or 8 books a week by December. We have a core of 80 authors and 24 staff members, and everything has been working so well. Everyone is excited and putting their best foot forward and we are turning out some amazing books. You can take a look at our initial offerings at www.musapublishing.com to see what I mean.

AND, that includes the Aurora Regency imprint I slaved over the past year and a half. We managed to buy the imprint from the original publishing company. While it felt a little...erm...unfair that I paid to get my own work, I was extremely happy that the Aurora authors--all of whom are friends of mine now--were freed from the fiasco now ongoing over there.

I can't even express how much of a relief it is to believe in the publishing experience again. The pressure is gone. The stress is totally different--still stress, but pleasant now. Everyone has been excited and just happy to be working to create something instead of trying to fix it.

Do I think we've solved all the problems of small press publishing? *snort* No. Duh. But I do think we've resolved the issues that were driving us mad at our previous publisher. If nothing else, this company will never suffer from lack of communication, or transparency involving royalties, or books that don't come out on time. That much I can promise.

As for the rest? We'll tackle it as it comes. Feeling optimistic for the first time in a long time. If what we are doing helps to bring confidence and joy to the authors we publish, then that's more than enough for me.

Welcome, Musa.

The Annual Autumnal War

2011-09-14T00:32:00.000-04:00

Every year around this time I start getting antsy.

Part of it is the change of weather. The nights are getting brisk, the sky takes on that deeper blue and the leaves start to turn. I take my sweaters out of storage, do my fall housekeeping and then...it hits me.

They are almost here.

They fall upon us like an annual first week of October zombie convention. They start showing up in town, hauling their bizarro trailers behind their ratty, duct-taped together circa 1978 Ford pickup trucks. Chewing tobacco stores get low in the convenience stores. Can't find PBR 24-packs in any of the drive-throughs. Rally's starts to get really, really busy. Mothers start to herd their kids in from the backyard well before dark and I get really suspicious when anyone who looks like he might be one of them lumbers down the street in front of my house, heading for the Circle K and the 33 cent hot dogs.

An annual fog descends upon us, almost like a pre-autumnal stench, a miasma that overpowers the dusty smell of changing leaves and newly fired up fireplaces; an unusual smell that doesn't necessarily smell bad just...different.

Yep. I can smell it.

The carnies are coming.

Oh, granted: I still have a week or so before they are all here. Two weeks before the war begins. I need to stock up. I need to be certain my bunker is adequately prepared for the safety of me and mine. The conflict between us is of long standing. They--the carnies--and I have a long, terrible history that goes all the way back to the days when I worked in the bar across the street from the fairgrounds and they invariably tortured me every night after the county fair closed down. They came swaggering through the front door, their pockets crammed with the money they had taken from the unwary with their rides, and games, and freak shows, and candy apple booths. Oh, I can spot a carny from a mile away.

Yes, they brought the money of Fairfield county into my bar in their pockets, and I got them stinking drunk and took it all away from them! Took that money for my community! For the town I love! And yet they never got the hint. Every year, like clockwork or a cabbage-smelling plague, they come back...looking for me.

So far, I've always won. So far, I've always managed to come out on top. I have always emerged as the victor in the annual war with the carnies, like I'm the brave English and they are the garlicy French in our Hundred Years' battle over tip money.

But this year, they mounted a sneak attack. They must have bribed someone very close to me considering the predicament I'm in. This year, they are arriving in droves, scenting victory on the fall air.

This year...I have toddlers.

God help me.

The carousel. The pony rides. The little airplanes that go in a circle. Not to mention the cotton candy, the funnel cakes, the hot dogs, the lemonade turn-ups, the sasparilla, the game where you throw a ring around a goldfish bowl or a bottle and get a live rabbit.

Oh...they are out to get me no doubt. They are probably plotting right now in their pop-up trailers. I can sense it.

"That Celina woman is DOOMED. Let's get one of those shoot the water into the clown's mouth games. Those kids will LOVE those. Mwa ha ha ha ha."

I'll admit it; I've been a little apprehensive this year as we crept closer to Fair Week. I've hidden as much of it as I can from the toddlers--no need to get them to be willing stooges of the enemy. I detour around the Fairgrounds, so they don't notice the growing influx of campsites. I hurry them back inside whenever a suspiciously bright-colored semi comes rumbling past on the road. I don't allow them to watch any local television. And yet, somehow the toddlers know, like all kids know, that a huge opportunity for mischief is on the horizon, one that will allow them to yell "Wheeeeeeeeeeeee!" for a whole two minutes per three dollars worth of tickets.

But I have a secret weapon, one that will see me through this annual battle with my customary aplomb. One they will never expect. One the toddlers will be overjoyed about. Oh yes, I have my own secret weapon in this battle with the carnies that they'll never figure out--one that begins with a Z and ends with an O.

No, I'm not going to tell you what it is, but I'll give you a hint. It involves animals and a slightly better-dressed foe.

Heh. They will never see it coming.

*Celina's annual battle with the carnies was abbreviated last year, but there are years' worth of carnie-related posts on this blog. For previous installments, just check every October's first week of blogs. This blog post has been carnie approved.*

The Day You Never Forget

2011-09-02T01:05:00.001-04:00

Most of the time, people think I'm a pretty tough kind of gal. I am, I suppose, in a lot of ways. I say what I think--sometimes at a cost to myself--and once I finally learned to be at peace with myself (a process I don't discuss with anyone other than my husband, perhaps, and my daughters) I was able to walk that fine line between assertive and bitch fairly well.

Unless I get mad, which is a whole other story.

I think every generation has a day they'll never collectively forget. For my father and his siblings, it was Pearl Harbor. What else could compete with that event marring their young lives? For my mother, it was a dual memory--the Nazis fleeing Paris and the Allies entering it. There were several that vied for that title in my youth. I vaguely remember Watergate; I had chicken pox and was home from first grade and there was NOTHING ELSE ON TV. Then President Reagan getting shot. And Pope John Paul II. And John Lennon. Then, when I was in college, the Challenger disaster, brought home to me on a whole new level because the daughter of one of the crew members went to the same school in the same department that I was in and I knew her.

But will anything take the place of 9-11?

I'm not going to go into that particular day. That story isn't important. But I'm sitting here now, ten years later absolutely glued to the television set watching all these terrible shows. I'm morbidly fascinated by hearing the experiences of these survivors and the stories of those who didn't. I'm glued to the TV screen, listening to the analytical details of how the structures were compromised, how the passengers fought in Pennsylvania, how the firefighters in that one lone stairwell managed to walk away. That day marked me in so many ways that even now, ten years later I can still feel all the shock, the horror, the absolutely gut-wrenching fear those events caused.

And yet, I can't escape it, and don't even try.

In a way, that whole day is kind of a blur. Our workplace didn't close, despite the whole state of Ohio rolling up like a big carpet. I was stuck there, at Applebees, and only two tables came in. So we were sitting there, with all that news coverage on all those television sets. And that's when, to me, one of the most shocking things of that whole damn day happened.

I was watching the beginning of President Bush's televised address when one of the other servers came up and grabbed my arm.

"Hey," he said. "I need you to lead the birthday song for my table."

Do what? This guy was a nice enough fellow, but he was also a member of a church that doesn't believe in celebrating birthdays. The table he was referring to was a group of young women in their early twenties. All I could think of in that moment was the absolute irony, the insensitivity of his request. I threw his hand off my arm and snarled, "No one will ever have a birthday on September 11 again, you *bleepity-bleep* moron. Sing it your own damn self if it's so important to you."

He looked kind of puzzled and said, "But I can't sing happy birthday--"

"God will forgive you for that quicker than for pretending that this--" and I pointed at the screen "--didn't happen."

He went away.

Strange. Now I don't remember what the President specifically said during that speech. I remember the feelings I had as I watched it, and the tiniest little moment of reassurance afterwards. I remember the phone call I got from a friend in New York who'd been off that day from work at Windows Over The World and thus escaped the destruction of the World Trade Center. I remember long hours of working to gather water bottles and shoes and non-perishable food and shipping it off to the rescue workers at Ground Zero. I remember the restaurant down the street, not two block from where I'm sitting now, pouring out every bottle of French wine from its incredible wine cellar into the street when France refused to cooperate in the allied war in the Middle East.

But instead of remembering what the President said to reassure the country, I remember that callous request, and the look of surprise on that young server's face when I yelled at him. I was too immature to realize that maybe that callousness was the result of a young man in his early twenties, seeing the face of war rise over the horizon. I was just mad--furious and seething and pissed off--and he was too insensitive to recognize that emotion swirling through all of us there that night.

My reputation was solidified in this town after that night. I was thought of as a bad-ass from that night on, something only reinforced by years of tending bar after that.

And yet, all these years later when I watch these shows, that grief hasn't really lessened. I watch the Twin Towers come down, and the Pentagon security camera film, and all those poor, doomed people who chose the death of the freefall over the death of the flames and I still sorrow for them all.

That day, 9-11-2001, marked not only MY generation, but my parents and my children's. Now my son-in-law is stationed in the Middle East, still fighting the war that began that day, while my daughter and her daughter live with me, and I realize that 9-11 has also affected my granddaughter's generation. She's been without her father now for half of her two years, and the first time I sang "Happy Birthday" again after that one day almost ten years ago, was last October for her first birthday.

Everyone has a day they'll never forget. I have a feeling that when it's my time to go, no matter how old I am, and my life flashes before my eyes, I'll still see those incredible terrible pictures interspersed between all the lesser moments in my comparatively inconsequential life. I have a feeling the rest of the country feels the same way--judging from the reaction America had to UBL's long-delayed demise.

Some days should never be forgotten. And in this country, apparently, never will be.

I guess I'm not so tough after all. Everytime I see those videos, I still cry. And I probably always will.

Cogito ergo sum

2011-08-12T12:43:00.000-04:00

I think therefore I am.

For me, it could just as easily be "I think I am" or Cogito sum, instead. Or maybe Cogito quae facio? Like the little engine that could? (Reading lots of books to babies these days) Yes, my Latina lingua is rusty. But I kind of feel that way--I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

While my agent shops my manuscript around New York (gods help her!) I've been busy with a new project. Last week, I helped to launch Musa Publishing as part of a four-person partnership. We're full of ideas these days, working 18-20 hours a day (six of that is my writing; I'll be honest) to create a small press that encompasses all the problems we identified within epublishing in our experience and addresses them. I'm pretty excited--you can check out the work in progress at www.musapublishing.blogspot.com for yourself.

In the meantime, I'm putting the finishing touches on my steampunk Ripper story What a Pretty Necklace. It might actually be more of a gaslight fantasy, but the setting of 1891 New York and the added benefit of Jack the Ripper scenes to satiate my lust for descriptive brutality is a lot of fun to deal with. I really think..hesitantly at least...that this may be my new milieu. The blend of technology, fantasy and history is pretty seductive to a girl like me. If you ever read this book and see the term *copperplate* applied to a JTR murder scene, run. That's all I have to say.

Aside from that, things are starting to settle into a routine. I'm not really talking about what happened with my last publisher, so don't ask. I'll just say that I'm heartbroken at leaving, am completely tragic that I lost the imprints I'd work so hard to build up, and have resolved to move on without bitterness or recriminations.

Yep. The high road. Me. See? Cogito ergo sum. I think, therefore I am--not playing that game.

And in the near future, you guys may be hearing more about Asphodel. Just sayin'...

Just When You Think You've Got It All Together...

2011-06-14T21:07:00.000-04:00

We all have plans. I have all sorts: plans for my family, plans for my life, and sort of at the top of the list at the moment are the career plans. I'm at the point in my life that I'd always said I would get around this age: devoting myself to my writing. (Yeah, I'm editing too, but that goes hand in hand with it. Every manuscript I edit makes my own writing better--I see my own flaws on someone else's page. At any rate) And right at the moment in my personal journey when I'm ready to break ahead and take that next step, something happens to screw it all up.

As life-altering changes go, this one isn't THAT bad. The artifical disc that was supposed to last forever and eliminate my back pain didn't do either. I have to have another back surgery--a fusion to stabilize the broken prosthesis. A few days in the hospital, a few months in a back brace with very limited physical activity, probably a year or so of physical therapy--and a best case scenario prognosis for the relief of 60% of my pain.

Maximum. More likely? Less than half.

The surgery isn't optional; it has to be done. The broken prosthesis can't be removed. I'm stuck with it. And, as a result, will always have pain. None of that really bothers me. This is how stupid I am: I'm worried about not getting the WIP done on schedule--a self-imposed schedule at that. I'm not worried about dying on the operating table or the pain (although that isn't pleasant to consider) or anything else except how long it will take me to be able to stand sitting at my computer and getting back to my story.

Yeah, I realize that for the first week at least, more likely two, I'm not going to give a rat's ass about the story, and with a big incision in my back I'm not going to want to lie down with the laptop either.

But three months????

Three MONTHS!

Damn.

So. The best I can do is to write as fast as I can now and hope for the best. I figure I'm within 100 pages of the end. Maybe...just maybe...I can get this done. And even if I can't, I'll spend a lot of time thinking about it, reconfiguring it, twisting and turning it.

And yes, I find the fact that the story is about Jack the Ripper quite ironic, thank you very much.

Of Kittens and Keyboards

2011-06-11T00:47:00.000-04:00

Since we lost Impy a few weeks ago, the kitten, Thor, has pretty much taken over the house. Kittens have a habit of doing so, mostly because they're so curious that they constantly get into trouble. Unfortunately for Thor, his favorite pastimes get him into trouble.

When he's really spunky, he's swinging from my curtains or the furniture or the top of the bookshelf, wailing piteously for rescue. That's funny and cute--except on the curtains, which now have a plethora of teensy little claw marks, or the furniture now that I've finally trained the big cats to avoid. (they associate claws in the furniture with a water gun. Heh.) Thor, unfortunately, loves water. He jumps into the bathtub without checking first, which has resulted in several episodes of dripping kitten. He plays in the water bowl. He turns on the kitchen faucet. Therefore, he is impervious to the water gun and thinks I'm playing with him when I hose him down.

Poor Thor. Since he loves water, he gets punished with timeout. He gets put into the bathroom with a stern, "NO!" and left there, to meow and yell and wail for a few minutes until I take pity on him and let him out. Then he jumps up on me and purrs and chin rubs and cuddles before he takes off to get in more mischief, which usually involves torturing Elf, that cat who most claims me as 'his human.'

But that's not the worst of it.

Thor has several favorite napping places, but his unquestioned favorite is the keyboard of my laptop. He's still small and lightweight so when he lies down he doesn't depress the keys, but it's damn hard to write with a kitten sprawled out over qwertygfdsacx and z. If I move him, he complains. If I try to type around him, he yawns and takes up uiohjkb and n as well. Sometimes we compromise, and he gets right up beside the back of the computer or underneath it when I'm writing on the couch or the bed.

*sigh*

Kittens.

He's starting to lose that kitten fuzz now, and is more properly an adolescent cat at almost five months. But he still acts like a kitten, and I have the horrible fear that he's always going to prefer napping on my laptop keyboard. In another year or so, he'll weigh fifteen pounds and the only letter I might be able to hit is the / or the ' or ] -- which would totally suck.

But then again, I know now what to do with this laptop when I retire it in favor of a new one. Some cats may like their soft little animal beds, but Thor will always sleep on my old, dead laptop.

And Now For Something Completely Different...

2011-06-07T23:13:00.001-04:00

...a not quite as serious post. Ye olde blogge has been a little on the grim side as of late, so tonight while I loosen up my mind for a big writing binge that'll probably end up being an all-nighter, I thought I'd try to lighten things up a little bit with some random thoughts.

Random thought # 1--Just got done watching The Voice. Christina--FIRE YOUR DRESSER. Child, you don't have any business prancing around in THAT outfit. EVER. Those thighs were eating those pleather shorts. Seriously.

Oh, the singers? For me no contest--the two bald ladies on Christina's team and the two guys on Blake's team. Best singer of the night--Beverly. Best performer of the night--Frenchie. Best moment of the night--Ce Lo singing Queen.

Random thought # 2--Two great things happened for me in the world of sports today. First, Tyrelle Pryor has ditched Ohio State for his senior season. (there is a God) Then, Mike Hamilton, the alleged athletic director at my beloved University of Tennessee resigned. (there is a God who wears orange and white) Personally, I think this is a great thing for both schools. Tennessee can now hire Phil Fulmer, who at least has integrity and knowledge of the area, and Ohio State can have the ultimate honor of me condescending to appear at one of their football games--which I swore I'd never do as long as Tyrelle *Mika Vick* Pryor played there. That being said, now there are serious grumblings in Columbus on the nightly news about tens of thousands of dollars Pryor allegedly accepted, and people in Knoxville are tossing pictures of Lane Kiffin into bonfires built with Hamilton's office furniture.

Ah yes, a great day in the world of college football. Now, if they'll only strip USC of their 2004 BCS Championship, my week will be perfect.

(Perfection attained in 3...2...1...)

Random Thought # 3--Right now, the cats are have a demolition derby in my living room. The favorite and current points leader is Thor, the 5 month old kitten, who is outweighed by the next smallest competitor by at least four pounds. The cats are all fine--it's the living room that's demolished. Thor was chasing Sapphire, our sedentary, portly Siamese and they hit a pile of mail and papers on the desk. Right now, our floor looks white instead of a warm, mellow aged oak color.

And because this is a perfect week, thanks to USC being stripped of their title, someone other than me is picking everything up.

And finally, Random Thought # 4--If I stick to my current writing schedule, What A Pretty Necklace will be completed in 6 days. Right now, Jack the Ripper and my ultimate villain are plotting the demise of my heroine--who, unfortunately for them, has developed a weapon they'll have no defense against.

Ah, steampunk! I think I'm starting to like you.

Why You Need To Think Twice Before You Self-Publish

2011-06-06T20:51:00.000-04:00

Lately, I've been overwhelmed by the foul tempers prevailing in writing forums on any thread that has to do with self-publishing. I'll admit it--this is partically my fault. I'm so sick of hearing sad stories from authors who "just wanted to hold my book in my hands" and then are faced with the consequences of their decision to self-publish that are dismissed and scoffed at by people who are absolutely certain that self-publishing is the end of the traditional publishing industry.

But before we begin, a caveat: I BELIEVE (capitalized for emphasis) that in SOME cases, self-publishing is an appropriate choice-- such as books for niche markets, poetry chapbooks, non-fiction with a limited target market. I ALSO BELIEVE (again, capitalized for emphasis) that in the case of fiction, self-publishing should be the LAST choice, not the first.

Now before the self-appointed SP cheerleaders start to divebomb me with their pom-poms, here's why I believe this way...in a bulleted list for your reading ease and comfort.

(Yes, I'm feeling a little snippy)

1. Self-publishing burns your first rights.
2. Self-publishing at this point is consigning your book to the bottom of the publishing pond.
3. Self-publishing doesn't equate with 'published.'
4. Self-publishing companies don't care how many books you sell. Their purpose is to get as many books as possible.
5. Most self-published authors suffer from the stigma of not being legitimately published.
6. 90 % of self-published books are crap, and that figure is low.

Now that I've pissed all of them off, let's elaborate.

First publishing rights are a huge deal. You aren't going to land an agent or a trade publisher (read: NY publishing house) with a self-published book UNLESS you have immense sales and maybe not even then. Yes, yes...Amanda Hocking. I know. She had over a million sales, right? Okay...that's ONE author out of how many? According to Bowker, there were over 760,000 self-published books in 2009. Now think--how many other authors have you heard of with sales like this?

Right. And why is that?

Because a self-published book sinks right to the bottom of the publishing pond. The books that sell the most are the ones that get publicity--trade published books, independent press books and e-published books. The self-published books that break through those to rise to the top either have an author with a well-known name (like Stephen King) or a well-known platform (either because of a built-in readership or through the marketing efforts the author puts into the released book). Most self-published books don't get that. They get bought by family and friends, who leave glowing reviews on Amazon that nobody reads. Self-published authors also find it difficult to get reviewed, one of the traditional methods of getting people interested in their books. Do you know why?

Right. Because most people don't equate self-publishing with actually being published. Agent Rachel Gardner said it best on her blog in a November, 2009 post:

The lure and the prestige of getting a book published has always been based on... what? Exclusivity. It's exciting to get a book deal because many want one, and few can get one.

Published books have always been respected because of the many gatekeepers they had to go through to get on that bookstore shelf. Numerous people had to agree that the book was worthy of publication. Large companies had to invest money and time. All of that added to the value of each book.

Writers had to endure rejection, and be persistent. They had to keep trying harder, improving their writing, to get to the point of being published. And they had to impress a lot of people.

With no more gatekeepers, no more exclusivity, no more requirement to actually write a good book, won't published books lose value? If anybody can get a book published, doesn't that diminish the perceived status of all authors?

That kind of sums it up. The majority of self-published books are pretty awful, to be frank. Obviously, I haven't read every self-published book in the world but come on, already. How many of those self-published books are in reality unedited first drafts, thrown out there by people who stupidly buy into the myth that "You, too, can be a publisher author on the road to fame and riches!!!!" by self-publishing companies who don't give a crap what they're publishing.

What? Oh, of course I have cites for that.

“It used to be an elite few,” said Eileen Gittins, chief executive of Blurb, a print-on-demand company whose revenue has grown to $30 million, from $1 million, in just two years and which published more than 300,000 titles last year. Many of those were personal books bought only by the author. “Now anyone can make a book, and it looks just like a book that you buy at the bookstore.”

See what I mean? It looks just like a book that you buy at the bookstore. From the same article, there's this too:

Indeed, said Robert Young, chief executive of Lulu Enterprises, based in Raleigh, N.C., a majority of the company’s titles are of little interest to anybody other than the authors and their families. “We have easily published the largest collection of bad poetry in the history of mankind,” Mr. Young said.

Pretty scary. Especially when paired from this quote I found on How Publishing Really Works:

Lulu.com, one of the most popular and cost-effective of the POD services and still independent despite the apparent trend toward consolidation among POD services, is explicit about its long tail business model. In a 2006 article in the Times UK, its founder identified the company's goal: "...to have a million authors selling 100 copies each, rather than 100 authors selling a million copies each." A Lulu bestseller is a book that sells 500 copies. There haven't been many of them.

Doesn't that just make you throw up a little in your mouth? It does me. Why would you want to consign your novel to a company that wants ten thousand more of you only selling ten books to your family and friends...or yourself?

And if you only sell to your mom and dad and the other eight copies are bouncing around in the trunk of your car, then are you legitimately published? Are you put on the same level as...well, shall we say, an e-published author?

No. Because of one line you can find on many major review sites:

We do not accept self-published material for review.
Not too long ago, that line read: We do not accept e-published or self-published material for review.

Again--you sell a million copies, and you get to shed the self-published stigma. But let's face it: any schmoo who ekes together some kind of guide for pedophiles and self-publishes it on Amazon, then causing a controversy as outrage ripples throughout the www is going to manage to sell 50 books. Most self-published books don't sell half that number--and the self-publishing companies like it that way. Again--read what those execs had to say. They don't care that because you've self-published your book, people are going to automatically assume it's crap. They LIKE crap, particularly the kind of crap that a deluded author is going to pay premium prices for their ultimate services. But the inescapable sad, tragic fact is that most self-published books ARE crap.

Look, I don't have a motive here unless it's to ease my own conscience. Over the past year, the number of queries I've received from self-published authors who genuinely believed they could bypass the whole submission process and have a bestseller is staggering. I looked through my records today, and approximately 40% of the submissions I've received since June of 2010 fit into this category. These authors are upset and looking to rectify their book's invisibility through any means possible.

"I thought self-publishing was the way to go, but I've only sold five copies in eight months..."

"I really believed that once people started to review my book, I'd get the exposure I needed..."

"I invested almost two thousand dollars into this book and I have to find a way to recoup my losses..."

And so they send those manuscripts to me, hoping that somehow I'll be willing to overlook the fact that their first electronic rights have been burned irrevocably. And because I'm a sucker, I'll request the whole book. And without exception, those books aren't in any condition to be turned over to my staff for editing much less out there on display for the whole world. Out of those submissions, I have not accepted one.

Not. One.

So, yes--I'm damn good and mad about this! I'm inundated with those self-publishing popups everytime I hop online. I could open any website right now and there will be that damn ad I've seen every stinking day for three stinking months. I really wish I could spam them all with an email that reads, "I'M NOT STUPID. THANKS."

But I can't. My situation is different too. I'm an established author with a very decided career plan, one that I work on every single day for eight hours a day. Self-publishing is not an option for me at this stage of my career. Perhaps later, if I reach a certain undefined level of success, I may self-publish my earlier works when the rights revert to me. Who can say?

But YOU--the writer who's just finished your first novel and are trying to make a decision as to what's best to do. (and this doesn't apply to people who just want to publish for their own pleasure) Aside from following my mantra of "write, edit, rewrite, rewrite again, rewrite some more, edit, proof, repeat" (meaning don't ever send out a first draft as a finished product), what else should you do?

If you want a career as a writer, why consign your book to the bottom of the publishing pond? Start at the top and work your way down. Try for an agent first, then smaller presses, and then e-presses before you decide to self-publish. Why be one of thousands of writers selling only ten copies? Strive to be one of ten authors selling thousands...MILLIONS of copies.

Always, always reach for the top of the game, not the bottom, and I'll do the same. Perhaps we'll meet there someday. I certainly hope so.

Sunburned the Brains Right Out of My Skull

2011-06-05T11:07:00.000-04:00

So the big news in the Summers household this week is the new pool. We all discussed it and decided that not only would a pool be great for the baby (so I can teach him to swim) but also for me. My back limits a lot of exercise, but if I just walk in chest-high water, I'm getting five times the benefit as if I was walking on the road.

And never breaking a sweat. That's important to a lady.

*Yeah, I just said that. Now shut it with the laughing.*

At any rate, so the pool is in and we filled it up earlier the week, braving the ICE COLD water just because...well, hell-we have a POOL. We've spent the time since then (now that the solar cover is warming the water up) lounging in and around the pool, taunting our unfortunate neighbors with the glorious blue jewel glistening in the back yard by splashing, squealing and playing with water toys as much as possible. My daughter, her daughter and I all now have glorious sunburns--the kind that gives you color without hurting too badly.

Except on our legs. WTF is up with that? Audrey and I can get all kinds of sun on our faces, arms, backs and shoulders, but both of us are still sporting pasty white legs, damnit.

So I rigged up a little writing area for me on the back deck, thinking that I could switch back and forth between the pool and working on the WIP. It's nice, with a comfortable chair and a table for the laptop (and an outlet--very important)--far away enough from the pool that my computer won't bite it from a misplaced splash but close enough so I can monitor my non-swimming daughter and her twenty-month-old baby.

I completely forgot about how hard it is to see a monitor in the glare of the sun. Or how quickly you can get really, really hot while trying to write outdoors. Or how distracting things like the neighbors' boxers when they get let out of the house and want nothing more than to howl at whoever is splashing in the pool. Or how little Aurora wants her Nana right there in the water with her and has no qualms about running over to where I'm sitting with the computer and lifting her arms to be picked up--while spraying chlorinated water all over my computer.

*sigh*

Yes. This vampire's first exposure to the afternoon sun in about twenty years must have fried every last bit of common sense right out of my echoing head. There's a REASON I haven't been hanging out at poolside in recent years. Okay, several. First off, I'm a redhead. Yeah...I don't tan, I BURN and then MOULT like a freaking snake. Second off, I'm creeping up to the midway point between forty and fifty. (It's perfectly okay to tell me how young of a grandmother I am, by the way.) The reason I don't look like a grandmother is because I haven't exposed my face to the sun willingly in decades. Third off, I can't work outside. I don't like the heat. I don't like barking dogs. I don't like the sounds of traffic. I don't like the people across the street. And while I LOVE the pool, I don't particulaly relish the thought of people driving by and wondering how that bizarre red-and-white whale got beached in Ohio.

So yeah, I'm staying in today to work. I'll hit the pool later when it won't affect me as much. Like maybe midnight or something.

The sacrifices I make for my art.

Oh, by the way--I'll be a grandmother of THREE sometime in mid-December.

Bigotry in Writing

2011-06-04T10:02:00.002-04:00

This week, Nobel Laureate V. S. Naipaul stirred up a big stinky pile of controversy. Here's the jist of what he said, as reported by Bookseller.com and initially from the Telegraph:

"Women writers are different, they are quite different. I read a piece of writing and within a paragraph or two I know whether it is by a woman or not. I think [it is] unequal to me." Naipaul said this was due to their "sentimentality, the narrow view of the world". He added: "And inevitably for a woman, she is not a complete master of a house, so that comes over in her writing too.

"My publisher, who was so good as a taster and editor, when she became a writer, lo and behold, it was all this feminine tosh. I don't mean this in any unkind way."
On Jane Austen, he added that he "couldn't possibly share her sentimental ambitions, her sentimental sense of the world".When asked if he considered any woman writer his equal, the 78-year-old answered: "I don't think so", the Telegraph reports.

Now, as a woman writer, I find that pretty offensive. Interestingly enough, however, the editor whose work he dismissed as 'feminine tosh' is acclaimed author and biographer Diana Athill, of all people! I've read Athill's Somewhere Towards the End, and I'm absolutely positive that it's NOT 'feminine tosh.' Athill's response to Naipaul--also from the Guardian--is worth noting:

"I was a 'sensitive editor' because I liked his work, I was admiring it. When I stopped admiring him so much I started being 'feminine tosh'," she said this morning. "I can't say it made me feel very bad. It just made me laugh ... I think one should just ignore it, take no notice really."

Naipaul has "always been a testy man and seems to have got testier in old age", said Athill. "I don't think it is worth being taken seriously ... It's sad really because he's a very good writer. Why be such an irritable man?"

It's not the first time the pair have clashed. When Athill told Naipaul that his novel, Guerrillas, did not ring true, the move led, indirectly, to his departure from André Deutsch. And Athill has previously said that, when she needed cheering up, "I used to tell myself: 'At least I'm not married to Vidia.'"

Amen, my sister. From some of the horrors I've read about Naipaul's marriage, I think I'd be able to say that to myself in jail.

Okay--here's my point: there's a longstanding and inherent bias against female writers. We are dismissed instantly as writing 'bodice-rippers' or 'feminine tosh.' When I tell people I'm an author, their first question is usually, "Oh, romance?" with an intonation in their voices that just drips disdain. It's like no one can imagine a woman writing strong, relevant, gripping literature. This is insulting on several levels.

First off, women write in all genres and not just romance. Look at some of the powerhouse women in fiction right now. Can anyone dare to dismiss female writers when the most successful writer in history is JK Rowling? Can anyone honestly sneer at the work of Barbara Kingsolver? The Poisonwood Bible is one of the toughest books I've read in a long time--and absolutely lovely. And then I think of some of my friends and acquaintances in speculative fiction, like Kelly Meding and Gini Koch, and I have to kind of laugh. These ladies don't waste their time on feminine tosh, not when their heroines are kicking everything's ass in sight.

Second off, romance books are NOT EASY TO WRITE. I've tried to write a straight-up contemporary romance novel; I can't. I'm not wired that way. And when you look at some of the greatest classic pieces of literature, those books were romances written by women. Jane Austen? The Brontes? And those writers aren't equal to Naipaul? Come to think of it, I'm reasonably positive Naipaul would chew off his own leg to have a fraction of Nora Roberts or Danielle Steele's sales. The Nobel prize is nice and all, but you can only eat off it for so long. But Naipaul doesn't see it that way:

Of Austen he said he "couldn't possibly share her sentimental ambitions, her sentimental sense of the world".

The author, who was born in Trinidad, said this was because of women's "sentimentality, the narrow view of the world". "And inevitably for a woman, she is not a complete master of a house, so that comes over in her writing too," he said.

I don't know about the rest of you, but I am the complete master of MY house. Even the cats acknowledge that.

But finally, and most importantly, the main reason this disturbs me is simple. Naipaul, as a Nobel prize winner, has a platform--one that will reach millions of people. He's used that platform in the past to denigrate third world countries, including his native Trinidad, and to express his loathing for people of color. Now, he's using it to sneer at the accomplishments of women in literature, setting himself up on a pedestal and proclaiming the inherent inferiority of female writers.

(In the interests of transparency, I've read some of Naipaul's work. I like his earlier stuff; am not quite so fond of his later stories. I've found an underlying strain of bigotry permeating his work, and felt that as he aged he got really, really preachy. I've felt that way for years, which is a shame because I found A House for Mr. Biswas a lovely, evocative work.)

As writers, we should all be aware of the power of the written word. What we write can influence people, sometimes beyond anything we could possibly hope to expect. Ever see a movie theater on opening night of a Harry Potter movie? Or, even stranger, the day a Harry Potter book was released? It's crazy. Did you witness the Team Edward/Team Jacob madness a few years ago? Yes, writers have power. We have the power to entertain, to inform, to invoke thought. Unfortunately, we also have the power to promote bigotry and prejudice through the employment of the language of hatred.

It's easy to dismiss Naipaul's comments. After all, the gentleman is getting on in years and there's every chance that he might just be batshit crazy. This could just be jealousy rearing its ugly head, from a writer who once was very important and pissed away his momentum by alienating people in the industry and his readership. Or, he could just be stupid. Considering that eighty percent of the fiction-reading public are women, a writer would have to be an idiot to go out of his way to piss all those book-buying women off. A writer on a forum I frequent made the mistake of saying that as this was just Naipaul's opinion, it was okay.

But it's not okay. The language of hatred is NEVER okay. When a writer with the acclaim and notoriety of a V.S. Naipaul dismisses women at all levels of the publishing industry, it's most empathically NOT okay. I mean look at precisely what he said: Sentimentality. Narrow view of the world. Feminine tosh. Not a complete master of a house. Banality.

Are women writers his equal? "No, I don't think so."

Come on.

Naipaul was slipping into obscurity before this interview, resting on the laurels of his prior acclaim and out of the public spotlight. Now he's right back in the middle of it, but at what cost? Even his authorized biographer, Patrick French, described Naipaul as, "bigoted, arrogant, vicious, racist, a woman-beating misogynist and a sado-masochist."

As writers, we need to be aware of the potential power of our words. Always. Even a spec fic genre hack like myself can wield influence in the world--probably never at Naipaul's level, but some.

Very rarely, I'll find myself so disgusted with an author's political views that I won't buy his/her books. Orson Scott Card is a good example of this; Ender's Game is one of the greatest spec fic books written in my lifetime, and yet his blatant hatred and prejudice of the gay community will keep me from ever putting a dime into his pocket. It's sad, really, that V.S. Naipaul is now floating along in the same boat with Card. That boat now has a Nobel Prize for an anchor, but it's powered by the sails of bigotry, hatred and prejudice.

Sail away, gentlemen. Sail far, far away.

Requiem for a Collaborator

2011-05-27T22:33:00.002-04:00

Impy 1999-2011

Strange, to be coming back to my blog. My days have been so busy that blogging falls way down on the list of priorities. But right now, I feel like I need to blog about something very unusual--at least for this blogger.

Last week, we lost our cat Impy.

Now before you run away, screaming, to something more interesting than a post about a cat, let me tell you about Impy first. Impy was my first writing partner. He was a young stud Maine Coon when I wrote the prologue of The Reckoning of Asphodel, which was the first significant writing I'd done in over ten years. He sat on my lap for hours back in the days when we were too poor for luxuries like internet and cable, when my husband was working two jobs to keep our heads above water and I was too badly injured to work. He would curl up in a ball--all twenty plus pounds of him, purring, and somehow manage to stay out of my way while I worked. When I got up to get something to eat, he'd follow me to the kitchen. If I took a bath, he sat on the edge of the tub. When I went to bed, he shared my pillow. And then, the next morning when I started writing again he was right back in my lap, shooing away the other cats. In many ways, Impy was my collaborator--not only in writing, but in life.

Everybody loved Impy.

I loved him from the moment my husband and I walked past a wire cage full of kittens at the pet store, and one fuzzy little gray-striped Maine Coon tabby climbed straight up the bars yelling at me to pick him up. I did pick him up--after all, what could one kitten cuddle hurt?--and walked out ten minutes later with my first cat. Impy had endearing traits that enchanted everyone who met him. We had a roommate who called him "Pimpy" because he said Impy was so cool even a pimp would love him. Other people called him "Grimpy" because there wasn't a child or a kitten he didn't grandfather affectionately. When the grandbabies were infants, he would set up in front of their car seats or cribs and guard them--from everyone except their mothers and me. No other cats were permitted to get close to the babies, and definitely no people. He gave his love freely, finding a way to climb on every visitor's lap and never happier than when he was sleeping between my husband and I in the bed at night. He loved to eat (most Maine Coons do) and he was gorgeous, with a full ruff around his neck, big padded paws, tufts of hair right in front of his ears and a big plume of a tail.

That tail lost some volume for a few years when he set it on fire from a candle. Poor Impy! He was accident-prone, but that just made him more endearing.

There was a time five years ago when Impy wasn't doing that well. He was chewing on the end of his tail and We were on our way home from my mother's funeral when my mother in law (who was a cat owner for over fifty years) called and said, "You're going to have to put Impy down. He's got a tumor so big in his abdomen that it's pulling his insides out. That's why he's pulling all the fur out of his tail."

Tearfully, I put my beloved cat in his carrier when I got home and took him to the vet. The vet picked Impy up, examined him, snorted and said, "This cat isn't dying. He has a potbelly and is allergic to cats."

Yes, I had a cat that was allergic to himself. From then on, Impy got shots and I never listened to my mother-in-law's veterinary advice again. And as he aged, he wasn't quite as pretty. He got a hematoma in one ear, and it ended up folded over in a sassy quirk. The picture of Impy with this post is the last picture I ever took of him--a month ago. But he was still so beautiful to me, with all that luxurious fur and that sweet, loving look in his huge green eyes.

Impy is the only cat I've ever seen that I knew for a fact could smile.

Two years ago, Impy was diagnosed with feline diabetes, heart disease and feline neuropathy and that's when the real battle began. He was twenty-two pounds at his vet appointment in 2008. He weighed eight pounds at his last vet appointment. I won't go through everything we did for him--that's irrelevant now. What's important is what's happened the last six months.

Impy has always been my cat. He was independent, naturally, but I was the human he owned and everyone knew it. Over the past six months, Impy became gradually clingier. He would leave me for a little while--usually to go play with Aurora, whose favorite game was to drag a cat toy behind her for Impy to chase. (Aurora, by the way, said "Impy" before she said my name) But then, he'd come right back to me, patiently waiting until I put my work aside and he could get on my lap. At night, when I settled down to sleep he'd crawl up under my chin like he had when he was a kitten. And gradually, he became more lethargic, more tired.

I think I knew Impy was leaving us. I think he knew too. But Shannon and I couldn't accept it. We fought Impy's dead so hard. We gave him the medicine, we tried every cat food known to man to tempt his appetite. We pureed food and syringe fed him. We took him to the vet. We looked up alternate treatments online. And it seemed to work. One day he rallied, eating on his own and showing a bit more energy. I rejoiced, thinking we'd beaten his enemy. He walked around the house, spending time with each of our other cats in play or cuddles or bathtime. He played with Aurora. He spent a long time watching the birds outside the window.

But the next day, he was worse than before.

Impy lay on the hardwood floor, barely moving, just watching me. I tried to get him to eat or drink. He wasn't interested. The other cats came up one at a time, licking his face or rubbing cheeks with him. The kitten brought him the toy they'd fought for the week before, nudging it in front of his face and trying to lure him into play. Impy just watched me.

When I got up, he would get up too. He'd move just the right amount of space to be the same distance from me and lie down again. If I went to sit beside him, he started to purr loudly, and if I petted him, he'd swipe my hand with his tongue and purred louder.

And because Impy and I were so close, because he was my collaborator, I knew what he was telling me. He was tired. He wasn't going to get better.

He was ready to go.

We took him to the vet in his cat bed, not the carrier. I didn't want him to get upset because of the lack of familiar things. He sat on my lap the whole trip, purring and happy. He might have been looking at things outside the window, but I don't think he was actually seeing anything. It was like he was putting on an act for me--being brave so I would be comforted. And in a strange way, I was.

And once the vet had examined him and offered the opinion that Impy wasn't far from death, I wasn't surprised. Impy lay back down at the news and sighed, and the sound of his loud purr echoed in that room. I petted him, talking to him and crying, while he purred and nudged against my hand--just a little...just enough to let me know that he heard me. The vet was sobbing as he prepared the injection. So was his assistant. Shannon and I were both stroking Impy as he was given the shot.

I was right by Impy's face. His ear twitched, he licked my hand one last time--and ten seconds after the shot, his purr just faded away.

Impy had given me a gift no other creature in this world ever has--his absolute trust and unconditional love. And although we grieved for him and still are grieving, I couldn't help but be glad that he wasn't hurting any more. Impy thanked me with that last lick, that last purr, and his death was as easy and as natural as any other exhalation of breath. We brought him home and buried him next to his brother, Dante, who passed away last fall, with his favorite cat toys.

Since then, the other cats have been looking for him. Aurora takes the cat toy and calls, "Impy! Impy!" At first she cried when he didn't come. Now, she sighs and puts the toy away.

And me? Last week, I couldn't write. This week, while I was away, I was able to churn out more pages than I have in months. So when I got back, I moved his cat bed right by my writing station. For a day or so, it sat empty and so did the pages of my manuscript.

But then, the kitten moved in. And now Thor is starting to act like Impy did. He meets us at the door. He comes running to find his human (me) as soon as he wakes up. He sleeps in my lap or in the cat bed while I write. He plays with Aurora, batting the toy for her without claws. And the words began to come once more.

These words were hard to write. I still look for Impy, just like the cats, just like the baby, and I'm always kind of surprised when he's not here. Twelve years of unconditional love is hard to replace once it's gone. I miss his distinctive meow, I miss his insistence on getting between me and the laptop, I miss everything about him. But I kind of feel like Impy spent his last weeks teaching the kitten what he needed to do for his humans, especially the strange one who stays up all night tapping away at that glowing, annoying contraption that's warm on the bottom.

Impy's legacy, then, is so amazing. Seventeen novels and three novellas in eleven plus years. Countless bewildered cats rescued from places of horror, taught to be loving, affectionate companions. A pair of children who learned to love animals from an early age. For my family, one of the most extraordinary human-animal relationships I've ever heard of.

Impy. How I will miss you.

Thor 2011-

Aurora Regency Welcome To Spring Blog Contest!

2011-03-14T14:37:00.001-04:00

As some of you know, I'm also the managing editor of Aurora Regency/Aurora Regency Historicals. Aurora is running a Spring Blog contest, where readers can win downloads of Aurora books. On this blog, one lucky reader (or more if the contest warrants it) can win a free Aurora book from any author they want! Here's what you do--

First, add as a follower to the Aurora Regency blog at http://www.auroraregency.blogspot.com/

Then, comment on the Spring Blog Contest post there -- http://auroraregency.blogspot.com/2011/03/spring-blog-contest-win-up-to-five-free.html

Then, comment in this thread.

If you do all three, you'll be eligible to win a free download from me and be registered to win a prize package of FIVE Aurora books from FIVE different authors on the Aurora blog! Sounds easy, yes? And, to make everything more...Spring-y, you can enter every participating Aurora author's contest. Just once per blog, of course, but still...

Links to the participating authors' blogs can be found on the Aurora Regency contest thread. Enter them all! This may be the easiest batch of e-books you've ever gotten--for FREE!
Take a few minutes and get to know the wonderful authors of Aurora Regency/Aurora Regency Historicals. So get yourself entered--and good luck to you all!

The End of an Era

2011-03-09T02:42:00.000-05:00

Yep. The end of one of MY eras.

My last contracted e-book comes out from Aspen Mountain Press this month. The Vampire Covenants, a trilogy I began with co-author Rob Graham, concludes with Defying the Covenants on March 21, 2011. Although Rob and I co-wrote the first two books, the final book is all mine. I wrote it by myself, which seems fitting as it's the last one.

For some reason, this book was harder to write than the others. I hemmed and hawed for a long time over the characters, the ultimate resolution of the plot (which changed drastically from what Rob and I had discussed) and how to bring the story to a final culmination. I'm not used to writing 'final' in any of my stories. I always like to think that even if I never write another word in the world, the story somehow goes on. The characters have amazing adventures without me, until they pass into the history of that world. Then they gradually adapt, becoming first a memory, then a legend and finally a myth.

But with Marguertie in the Covenants series, things are a little different. This is her last story. In a lot of ways, she is representative of me. Marguerite slides from the limelight, while I move from one sphere to another. I think that's very fitting. Marguerite has been one of my favorite characters ever. She's so different from Tamsen (Asphodel) and all my little goddesses from the Mythos series. Marguerite is a tragic character in a lot of ways. She finds ways to make her own happiness, true, but she also finds ways to screw that up. She didn't start out as a heroine, a woman destined for greatness. She falls into heroism because of a series of events completely out of her control, and throughout the three books her primary quest is to regain control over herself and her life. And, at long last, she accomplishes that goal--but at a terrible cost.

I'm very proud of Defying the Covenants. I think this book is an earmark of the change in my writing style, the maturation, perhaps, of how I develop characters and plots. I also think this story is true to my narrative voice. I was writing this book at the same time I was writing Theater of Seduction so that change in voice had already taken place. This book is darker, and yet at the same time more emotionally honest than its predecessors. A couple of the best scenes I have ever written are pivotal moments in the story.

Have you ever had one of those? A scene that for some reason works so well that it evokes the emotions in you, the writer, that you'd hoped to inspire in the reader? I had one of those in Apostle of Asphodel, with Anner's death. In Defying the Covenants, there are a couple of those--scenes that I re-read and that actually suck me into the story. One gives me shivers. The other...well, I've opened the document about thirty times to change that scene, thinking I needed to revise the ending of the story. But then, I'll read that scene over and I just don't want to touch the damn thing. So it stays, and because it stays I've stuck with an ending to the story that conventional wisdom would advise against.

That ending is a risk, and therefore I love it.

So now my last countdown clock is up for the vampires of the Covenants, counting down the hours and seconds and minutes when they will at last emerge into the light--figuratively of course. The feeling is bittersweet, which makes it all just that much more amazing.

I hope you love Defying the Covenants as much as I do. And just to give you a feel for it, take a moment and get a taste of what Marguerite and Gunther and Marcellin will bring to the table this time.

And farewell to this second era of my writing career. I hope the next era is as incredible as this one has been.

The Vampire Covenants 3: Defying the Covenants

by Celina Summers

buy page--http://www.aspenmountainpress.com/coming-soon/coming-soon/defying-the-covenants/prod_383.html

Coming March 21, 2011 from Aspen Mountain Press

Synopsis

As the Conclave prepares to confront the Russian renegade Grigori Volkonsky, Marguerite von Wittershiem has been shunted aside. Her husband and mentors hope to keep her out of danger by assigning her the unglamorous task of protecting the written lore of their people.

But their plans go awry when a traitor within the Conclave betrays them all to the enemy. As the most powerful vampires in Europe fall to Volkonsky’s minions, Marguerite must find not only the strength to stand alone but the ability to withstand the greatest threat that the hidden world of vampires has ever faced. If she fails, the immortal races and humanity will be destroyed.

In order to ward the Covenants as she has sworn, Marguerite must be prepared to defy them as well.

EXCERPT

* * * *

The Russians have surrounded us at Notre Dame! Calmet and Marcellin fight alone! Help us!

I was so close. I could make out the brass handle on the great door, gleaming with oily allure through the gloom. Something slammed into my body and hurled me into the pedestal of a statue warding the cathedral doors. I rolled to my feet, the sword in one hand and the dagger in the other. My foe laughed and circled me.

More vampires were dropping from the air now, most of them turning immediately to me. Marcellin was fighting against seven or eight immortals, all thralls, who had surrounded him but couldn’t get past the flashing guard of his blade.

“Come, little one,” the Russian nearest me said in atrocious English. “We will not harm you.”

Somehow, the new arrivals had gotten between me and the cathedral doors. There was no way I could speed through them and head for the sanctuary. I’d lead them right to it—and Calmet’s library. Desperately, I looked around for some other option.

I threw the knife at the Russian who’d spoken. He fell, screaming, to the ground with the blade protruding from his eye. I took advantage of his compatriots’ confusion and leapt for the narrow balustrade before the huge rose window.

My feet scrabbled on the edge of the stone railing, but I leaned forward and threw my arms around the Virgin Mary’s legs. The sword fell from my hand, spinning to the earth below. I didn’t wait to see what the Russians did next. As someone shouted below me, I ran across the narrow ledge to the southwest corner of the cathedral. I began to climb up the staggered bricks.

Overhead, the clouds that had been gathering over the death throes of the France I’d loved, rumbled ominously. I turned and barely bit back a scream. One of the gargoyles was right beside me, sneering over the embattled street below. I used the sculpture’s head to help me vault onto the ledge on its other side. By the time I reached the second balustrade between the twin towers of the cathedral, lightning flashed across the sky. It illuminated the false front of the façade and, for just a second, the steeply angled roof beyond it. I squeezed through two of the fluted columns and found myself standing on the peak of Notre Dame’s roof.

I sobbed, unsure which prospect was more terrifying—the Russians or the roof. Before I realized what I was doing, I mentally screamed, Gunther!

Every ounce of my power went into that psychic shout. Somewhere to the south and then, incredibly, to the north, I felt another immortal’s reaction to that desperate call. I didn’t have time to ponder who these vampires might be. Instead, I bit my lip and took my first step out onto the roof.

I couldn’t walk on the apex of the roof itself; decorative swirls and spikes of metal were enough to warn any vampire away. Instead, I progressed one step down from the peak, using the decorative ironwork to keep me balanced. I would never have attempted such a thing if I wasn’t able to turn into a bat if things went wrong. Regardless, I didn’t relish the idea of sliding down that pitched roof and forcing the shape shift before landing on the stones below. A vampire could experience all the pain of—and live through—breaking every bone in their body. It wasn’t a pleasant prospect at all.

While the storm gathered strength overhead, I scurried across the roof, keeping as low as I could and moving as quickly as I dared. Even to my ears, the sounds of battle were fading. I didn’t know if I was being pursued or not; I didn’t dare take the time to look. As I neared the first of the great flying buttresses, I had an idea.

Maybe I could conceal myself under one of those the same way Marcellin and I had hidden under the Pont Notre Dame. The towering spire reared in front of me. I scrabbled the rest of the way across the roof to it and pulled myself over the railing into the bell tower. For a moment, my legs wobbled in relief.

It didn’t matter that I could fly; all I knew was I could fall.

The massive bells hung in their frames as I slipped through the precarious walkway among them. I glanced over the edge of a landing into a stairwell that descended into the cathedral. For a moment I was tempted. Perhaps I could speed down those stairs and make my way to the crypt, obeying Marcellin’s orders and sealing the sanctuary against any who came. But a tickle at the back of my mind alerted me that others were nearing the spire.

I would give Calmet’s secret away if I followed my desire.

I crept around the huge bell in the center, easing my way toward the northern wing of the cathedral. The wood framework of the building would magnify even the slightest noise, betraying my position to any immortal nearby. I had to remain as stealthy as possible. Occasionally, I caught a whiff of some sour smell—an unwashed vampire, perhaps, still reeking of his last meal. The aroma overwhelmed the other, natural odors of this place—the warm spiciness of the wood, the metallic tang of verdigris and a lingering scent of spices from the cathedral below.

I froze. No, that aroma wasn’t the normal scent of the Catholic service. I was smelling myrrh.

Dear God—it’s Emmanuel Lando!

Terror, thick and cloying as the sickly sweetness of the myrrh, rose into my throat. I ducked under a smaller bell, edging around to the aperture that would lead me back to the roof and the buttresses keeping Notre Dame intact. If I was being stalked by Emmanuel Lando and not Volkonsky’s minions, things were worse than I could ever have imagined. Calmet’s blood, the blood of the eldest of night’s children, ran through my veins—his gift of healing.

Lando could not be allowed to drink from me, to add that power to his already considerable strength.

I slipped over the rail and back out onto the roof. I could hear the sounds of battle continuing hear the West Façade, punctuated by screams and clouts of power. It seemed as if there were more vampires involved now—probably Leandro had come at last to Marcellin and Calmet’s aid. I turned back to glance over my shoulder and one of the lead tiles loosened beneath my foot. I couldn’t help it; I screamed.

I slid toward the edge of the roof, grabbing desperately at tiles to slow my fall. I managed to grab hold of a gargoyle just as my feet and legs flew over the edge of the foot. I dangled there for a moment, relieved beyond measure at the sight of the gargoyle’s laughing snarl.

Lightning flashed above the cathedral, illuminating a lone figure at the top of the roof looking down at me. I didn’t have to see his sallow, drawn face or the tattered remnants of his Venetian robes to recognize Emmanuel Lando’s leering face.

I let go of the gargoyle.

The Denouement and Narrative Pace

2011-03-01T09:31:00.001-05:00

When you write serial stories like I do, the denouement can be the most difficult thing to accomplish. The early books in the series have to resolve some facet of the plot while still perpetuating the overall main plot. The final book has to tie up all the loose ends, including the subplots of the earlier books. So getting to the resolution requires a lot of organization and planning.

Right now, I'm finishing up Theater of Cruelty. As you know, I'm not an outliner. I write by the seat of my pants save for one exception--I always know what the ultimate resolution of the plot is going to be before I ever write a word. Other than that, I write organically. Then, after the first draft is completed, I go through and outline the plot. I usually set it out on long pieces of butcher paper, so I can have a linear chart above my desk that lets me see the plot points, the twists in it and ultimately, the resolution.

The reason I do this is to make sure I've addressed every single plot and subplot. It's also good for watching the development of character arcs, tracking the changes in a character from beginning to end. So honestly, I don't write to outline--I outline to writing.

At any rate, Theater of Cruelty is the final book in a three-book series. Therefore, I have to make sure that every plot point is resolved not only from that book, but the previous two as well as the theme for the whole series. Right now, I have three strips of butcher paper over my desk. They're probably pretty incomprehensible to anyone but me. They don't look like outlines--they look like flow charts, with arrows going from one sheet to the other to indicate a thru-line.

Definitely not the heights of elegant office decor.

I have about 25k left in which to wrap everything up. The ultimate plot resolution--the BIG climax--will take up about 10k: setting up the situation, working through the resolution (and you just know it's a big old battle scene), and then dealing with the aftermath. Ten thousand words sounds like a lot. That's what? Forty pages roughly? But when you're wrapping up 1100 pages of plot, it's really not.

And that's where a lot of writers run into trouble. Here's the big payoff, the stage they've been setting throughout the whole darn story. No one wants to rush the great moment. We want to savor it, to set the scene lovingly and in great detail and to describe every single blow and twist and turn of phrase. And in doing so, we can forget the most important factor of any great denouement--pacing.

When I'm writing, I think of the story like a mountain. The pace is always rising, always escalating. And, just like most mountains, there are small plateaus--breaks in the action where the reader and the plot can catch their breaths. Then, it's back to the precipitous increase of energy and pace. But if a writer gets all caught up in the importance of the climax of the plot, setting all the details and getting ensnared by the urge for description, the denouement falls flat. Instead of being the *steepest* part of the plot, the story plateaus and then the reader usually throws the book across the room. I had a huge problem with that in an early novel of mine. It took me months to figure out what the problem was. I mean, I had all of the ingredients so why was the plot resolution...boring?

And then it hit me: the plot resolution was boring because I'd focused on the ingredients and not on the dish. I'd plateaued my plot. Instead of increasing the energy and pace, I'd slowed everything down because I was so caught up in getting everything set perfectly.

(Yes, I could name examples of books that do this--in my opinion--and no, I'm not going to. I'm not going to use another author's work to prove my point. Better to just use my own.)

If you find yourself in this situation, I've found the only thing that works for me. I thought I'd share it with you, and this works for pantsers or outliners. When you go through on your first draft to write the climax for the first time, skip right over the setting of the scene. All of that is detail and can be added judiciously later. I write the story to the natural point where the denouement would be set up, then skip straight to the meat of the resolution. I start at the very beginning of the action and write straight through the resolution without stopping. This is where my flow charts or your outline comes in handy, and the main reason I use something big to chart it out like butcher paper or posterboard. I can look up and instantly see what I have to resolve. I get my protagonist and antagonist on the stage and get them going. I don't give a fig about writing *well*--my first draft denouement is chock full of adverbs and dialogue tags and I'll admit it. That's because I can go back later and rework all of that cleanly. The tags and adverbs give me the mood of the scene, and since I'm writing quickly I don't have time for all the frills and furbelows I usually use.

I find, too, that when I write quickly through the resolution, the pace of the narrative increases. This makes it easier for me to go back after the fact and determine exactly how much description I need. I don't want to affect the pacing of the story, so my descriptions and internal dialogue tend to be streamlined--much as they would be in any real life situation where everything is on the line. I mean, think about it: say your significiant other was rushed to the hospital from work. You get a phone call at your work, telling you he's been taken by ambulance to the emergency room. Now, what happens next?

You haul ass to the ER. You don't notice the weather, or what some other person is weaing, or think about all the good times you and your lover have had in the past. You grab your keys, get in your car, cuss at the old geezer driving 30 mph in the middle of the road, break the speed limit, park half in and half out of a parking space at the emergency room. You run into the ER and head straight for the desk and the hospital staff sitting there, where you demand to know where he is and what's going on. Right? As you're running into the ER, are you thinking about how many people are there? What the furniture looks like? What's playing on TV? No. Your mind is focused on only one thing--getting to your spouse NOW. In a crisis situation, your mind eliminates everything other than your goal and what you need to do to attain it.

That's what happens in a good denouement. You focus your narrative, your characters, on what they need to do to resolve their crisis. Everything else is just fluff. The first drafts of my plot resolutions are quite literally stripped down to action. I find that the crudeness and starkness of that narrative suits the escalated pace of the narrative and enhances it. And then--after a couple of days off to let the scene rest--I go back in. I check my resolution to make sure every single loose end has been addressed. Then, I can work in whatever extra details are needed to complete the scene without tampering with the energy.

As I said, this is what works for me when I'm writing a denouement. Maybe this will work for you, too, but if not you'll be able to find your own path. The main thing you have to remember is really important--don't let your pace plateau during the climax of your story. Don't get so caught up in "sounding like a writer" that you indulge yourself with lavish descriptions, flashbacks, and sensory details. Concentrate instead on creating a fast-paced, high energy escalation of the action so that when, at last, the plot is resolved everyone--especially the reader--has to sit back and take a deep breath.

After all, the last thing you want to have happen is a reader throwing your book against the wall in disgust. I've done that three times in the past week, and it's hell on book spines.

An Advice Post? From Me? You Bet--How To Make Edits Work For You

2011-02-25T21:16:00.000-05:00

You bet your sweet patootey.

Normally, I talk on this blog as a writer. Today, I'm putting on the editor's hat, so take a deep breath and get ready.

Let's talk about edits, and how to make the process work for you.

The editing process is a collaboration between an editor and author to make a good book into a great book. This fact is something that professional writers--and editors--inherently understand. Without that collaboration, the quality of the story is diminished. But unfortunately, I'm seeing a disturbing trend among writers that look upon editing--or even critiques/beta reads--as insults.

First off, if you can't take criticism you're in the wrong darn business. How are you going to handle rejection, which is a major part of any writer's life, if you can't take criticism? Exactly. You won't. As you approach the editing process, you need to stop and check yourself. Regardless of who accepted your work for publication, I can guarantee you that the story is NOT perfect. I have yet to see a story that doesn't require editing. Some require a lot less than others, granted. But every manuscript that has ever crossed my desk (including my own) needs that critical, unbiased eye. So, repeat to yourself: there is no such thing as a perfect story.

Again. There is no such thing as a perfect story.

Once you've convinced yourself of that, you're ready to begin the editing process with the right attitude.

Second, your editor doesn't make corrections just for the hell of it. Believe it or not, most editors would love to get a manuscript that only needed a couple of typos fixed. I've edited hundreds of manuscripts in my career, and I have NEVER found a manuscript yet that only needed a couple of little spelling corrections. NEVER. When I go through a manuscript, I am looking for anything that doesn't quite work--continuity issues, anachronisms, underdeveloped story arcs, character problems, grammar, punctuation and spelling. I'm looking for pet constructions, overused words, weak sentence structures. And why am I looking for all these things? To make the story BETTER. Sure, I could just go through and fix typos and a few dangling participles, but then I wouldn't be doing my job. What's the good in releasing a story that's spelled perfectly, but with a character that's talking on a flip cell phone in 1989?

You're right. No good at all. Between the reviewers who would flay the author alive and the readers who would hurl the book across the room and never buy another of that writer's books, a lazy editing job has far-reaching ramifications that are bad. Really bad.

Third off, when you're reviewing your editor's first set of edits, take a deep breath before you lose your temper. Look--countless times when doing edits, I've yelled something uncomplimentary at my computer screen, like, "You idiot! I already explained that in the last damn chapter!" That's normal. But usually, when I think about the comment further, I realize that the editor is pointing out a flaw in my story. Maybe I didn't make the reference clear enough. Maybe I was too vague. Maybe (and this is usually the case) I forgot that the reader doesn't know everything in my head. Regardless of what the problem is, the editor has pointed that out for a reason--and that reason is usually to make me think.

As an addendum to that, the worst thing you can do for your story or your career is to lose your grip over your edits. Getting into a sniping battle with your editor is without a doubt right at the top of the list entitled "Bad Career Moves." Most of the time, the writer is contracted to perform reasonable edits on their stories--and very rarely are the edits not reasonable. When the editor leaves a comment on your manuscript, don't be stupid enough to leave a snippy comment back. You're not obligated to take every editing suggestion in regards to content--but you are obligated to be respectful and professional when you disagree. By approaching your edits in a confrontational manner, all you're doing is shooting yourself in the foot.

Literally.

Doing edits is a stressful time for any authors. It's hard not to take some comments personally. You can help by making absolutely certain that your manuscript is as clean as possible when you submit it to your editor--formatted correctly, checked over thouroughly for spelling and grammar--

(Oh! And spellcheck/grammar check on your word program? Worse than useless. Go through your manuscript with a grammar book (I like Strunk's) and doublecheck any spelling you're unsure of. As of late I've seen way too many manuscripts with basic homonym errors--their/there/they're or to/too/two. Any of those issues should be eliminated before your editor ever sees your manuscript!)

--and analyzed for continuity issues (ie--making sure you resolve all your plot and subplot storylines). This is just basic professional courtesy and will save you and your editor a lot of time. And then when you get your manuscript back, remember that every bit of work your editor put into your manuscript, every comment and correction, every suggestion or red-lined strikeout, was done with YOUR welfare in mind. To make YOUR book better. To help YOU learn how to improve your writing. Instead of being resentful, be grateful that your editor cared enough to make such an effort on your behalf.

And then, in the next manuscript, implement what you learned from your last edits into your new story.

Your editor is your best damn friend in the period between the acceptance of your manuscript and the release of your book. If you keep that in mind, the editing process will not only be positive and productive, but will help you to become a better writer.

I Can't Believe I've Been This Busy...But I Have

2011-02-14T22:04:00.000-05:00

I have never taken this long off from blogging since I began way back in the day. To be honest, I should be ashamed. And I am. So, as a Valentine's Day present from me to you, the Elf Killing desk is back open and ready for business.

Because that's what I've been dealing with--lots and lots of business.

To start off with...the big news. As the result of a pitch I did at the World Fantasy Covention, I am now agented! Cherry Weiner, of the Cherry Weiner Literary Agency, now represents all my work! So while she has manuscripts of mine off on submission, I'm working double time to get more of my backlog of manuscripts ready to go out. This is one of the great things about having a backlog of manuscripts ready to go. Many of them I could have consigned to e-publication if they didn't attract interest in the querying process. But, because I held on to those manuscripts, now I have a lot of work to present to my agent and that's a great thing.

So therefore, as a result, my final contracted work with Aspen Mountain Press will be Defying The Covenants, the final book of the Vampire Covenants series. In another change, although Rob Graham and I co-authored the first two books, this book was written entirely by me. Defying the Covenants will come out in March, and later this week I'll have publication dates and cover art to share.

And the remainder of my time has been spent with Aurora Regency/Aurora Regency Historicals. Our release schedule has been like clockwork since we launched in October, with a new release every two weeks at the very least. We have a growing stable of wonderful authors, several of whom have multiple releases with us, and the first reviews for our books are starting to roll in. I must be honest--there's a real feeling of accomplishment now whenever I look at the Aurora site or blog and see all those lovely book covers. We are doing precisely what we set out to do. We are publishing high quality historical fiction--and the blend between traditional Regency romances and historicals is just about perfect--and building up a good reputation quickly. I've actually hired editors now, who will take over the burden of day to day editing for the most part, which will enable me to concentrate on acquisitions, operations and promotional work. I'm very excited by what I see going on at Aurora--you should go check it out when you get a chance.

Although this is a little late, I do have a New Year's Resolution to share. I promise to faithfully blog at least three days a week from here on out. Now that the craziness is subsiding into a regular schedule, Elf Killing goes back on my list of things to do. I won't neglect you again--I promise.

So where do we go from here? Well, Elf Killing is going to be making a shift. As my priorities change professionally, this blog is going to reflect that. I'd expect some serious retooling in the next few months and hopefully some changes that will make everyone happy. We shall see. But until then, we'll muck along as we always have--a little sarcastically, rather entusiastically and a lot more regularly. Okay?

Deal.

World Fantasy Convention 2010--Day Two

2010-11-03T15:58:00.000-04:00

Gini and I stayed up talking all night last night. Not too smart, considering the wake up call was set for 8 am. After breakfast, while Gini was busy, I did a lot of people watching and this is what I've got.

Today, I was accosted with the worst pick up line EVER. While I was smoking outside, this fellow came up to me and said, "I've only ever seen you with a girl. Are you a lesbian?"

Seriously? I mean, seriously, dude, does that kind of line ever work? Somehow I don't think so. So now, I've got the line of the convention and I'm going to repeat it until people's ears bleed. Because, you know, it wasn't enough that this moron insulted lesbians everywhere by assuming a pair of straight chicks hanging out at a convention were lesbians simply because they were not with this particular troll-like speciman of humanity. No clue who said dude was. All I need to know is this: what a loser.

The smoking area has been renamed 'the pariah portico.' I take total credit for that name, by the way. One thing I've definitely learned--make a point of hanging out on the smoker's patio at some point during every convention. You'll run into some fascinating and important people.

I have a feeling that Lewis Carroll's rabbit hole actually runs smack dab through the center of the Columbus Hyatt Regency. I keep wondering if I've fallen into Wonderland or if I've just accidentally wandered into asshole. It's easy to determine what category these writers fall into. Those who I would gush over meeting? They're polite and always happy to talk to another author or a fan. Those who I've never heard of? They're the ones sitting around the bar area with their noses in the air, pattering away on their laptops hoping someone will either recognize them or ask what they're writing. If nothing else, it's a huge lesson in what NOT to do at a convention.

Here's another. If someone expresses interest in your project, that isn't an invitation to whip out the I-pad and show them all your research. Trust me. It makes people cringe.

I've been watching an extraordinary agent at work throughout this convention and I have to say--I've learned more from watching her for a couple of days than I have from all my research over the past few years. I've been learning the language of the sale.

And yes, Modesitt's vest was even more colorful and elaborate than the day before. We said hello to him again today, and he was just as polite as before. I think he's starting to recognize us, though.

The mass signing tonight was precisely that: a MASSIVE signing. The Regency ballroom was very hot and stuffy. I spent that three hour block holding down real estate in the bar. (What? I was thirsty, and besides--how was I going to pick which author's books to get signed? Besides Gini, of course.) After that, we went to a couple of small press parties. We hung out for a while with the folks from EDGE--all very nice and lots of fun--and then went on to the Chi-Zine party, where I got to get a good look at the really outstanding books they're putting out as well as pulling out bottles of beer from the tub. Pretty darn cool.

Today I met both Elizabeth Bear and Anne Bishop. Very nice, interesting ladies both. Gini ran into a fan in the elevator, which was totally cool, and believe it or not, we managed to drag our exhausted butts off to bed by the reasonable hour of 1:30.

World Fantasy Convention 2010--Official Day One

2010-11-03T15:57:00.001-04:00

---Okay, so Gini invited me to stay with her in her hotel room for a couple of nights of the convention. I thought that would be a great idea--it would let me stay longer and get out into the action earlier (which seemed like a good idea at the time) and work out a whole mess of business. So yeah. Good idea, right?

Right. It was, as a matter of fact. I'm known for some pretty darn clever ideas, but that Gini Koch. Genius. Sheer genius.

We saw LE Modesitt again. I think I must be destined to run into him and his lovely vests. Interesting thing about Modesitt--he's always very polite but he's always also just a little wild-eyed if you approach him. I'm thinking some half-insane fan has approached him at some point in his past, the poor man. Very charming overall, though, and there's always that moment of "Oh my gosh--that's LE Modesitt!"

My fangster pal Beth Bernobich's Passion Play (just debuted from Tor) is visible everywhere. Interestingly enough, right after I wrote that in my journal, Tom Doherty (as in Mr. Tor) walked by and I nearly fell through the floor.

Today is the first official day of the convention, and while there were lots of people in the hotel last night, tonight is absolutely packed with a whole slew of folks that look like speculative fiction writers, editors and fans. It's kind of like this: I've been to romance conventions, and there really isn't any way to look around and say, "Oh yeah--romance people." But sci fi or fantasy? You'd better believe it. Overall, it's a very comfortable place to be, and thank God it's more than acceptable to do jeans and tennis shoes. Gini is introducing to me to scads of people and I'm ashamed to admit I have no clue who ninety percent of them are.

Maybe I should take some time off from writing and do a little reading in my field? Nah.

Perhaps the most interesting part of the convention so far has been listening to some old school gossip about some of the greats in the field back in the day. I spent quite a bit of time with my mouth hanging open, looking like a starving Venus fly trap, while I assimilated information that under no circumstance would I ever be able to write about in this blog. So forgive me for that "I know something you don't know!" moment. I just couldn't help it.

But I do know something you don't know. Just so you know.

The company was so interesting that we completely missed the opening ceremonies, but I'm thinking we didn't need to know that the convention was now officially open. The madness in the bar made that obvious enough.

Day #1--World Fantasy Convention 2010

2010-10-28T01:51:00.000-04:00

So tomorrow, the World Fantasy Convention begins in Columbus, Ohio--but for me, today was the first day. I went to pick up my friend, the uber-fabulous Gini Koch, at Port Columbus. Originally, my husband was supposed to go with me but he had to work, so my daughter Audrey drove and we took her daughter Aurora (who turned one last week) with us.

The first sign of imminent awesomeness? A text message that reads, "I'm the gal with the pink zebra print matched luggage."

After pulling her luggage from the baggage claim--it was easily spotted, by the by--Audrey and I took the luggage while Gini took the baby and we went to the car. As I've mentioned before, little Aurora is one of the best babies in the world. Today she had her first trip to the airport, a convention center, a big hotel and a Max and Erma's and that baby did not cry or fuss once. She was completely enthralled by Gini and, I must say, the feeling is mutual. Once we got Gini checked in at the Hyatt and settled in her room, we went across the street for dinner. Hordes of complete and total strangers stopped by our table to grin and wave at the baby--who took it all calmly, as if she expects the star treatment and isn't fazed when she gets it--while Gini, Audrey and I had an animated conversation and showed off pictures of children and pets on our cell phones. Then Audrey took the baby home and Gini and I...

...hit the bar.

What? Are you surprised?

At any rate, the feeling at WFC is much different from the Romantic Times convention I attended earlier this year. To begin with, there's a certain atmosphere that surrounds spec fic writers that is completely missing at a romance convention--a whole bunch of people who look vaguely familiar, as if I know them from the backs of book jackets, and yet seem easily approachable. I met several other authors (LE Modesitt Jr. stopped by our table, for example), went to one of the party suites on the fifth floor (where I discovered that, yes--there actually ARE drinks that are mixed too strongly for me to imbibe), got into a huge discussion about Star Wars (darn that George Lucas!), Harry Potter, the hero's journey, steampunk, John Wilkes Booth, Stephen Sondheim, steroids in baseball, Greco-Roman mythology, seven foot tall aromatic ill-groomed hobbit look-alikes (don't ask), agents, contracts, the future of the fantasy genre, OCD and just about anything else you could possibly imagine in a four hour conversation over wine and cocktails.

We also decided that Gini and I were probably twins separated at birth, despite the miniscule difference in our ages. Always great to find a long lost sister!

At any rate, tomorrow I'm attending panels on mashups, fantasy maps, the Surrealists and Asian horror. Should be fun. I have now officially vetoed wearing ANY sort of heel at this convention--no way no how--and am spending a little time in the morning getting my publishing resume together--something I've neglected to do so far seeing as I'm up to my eyeballs in edits at the moment.

A day of accomplishment. I am pleased.

By the way, Gini's second book Alien Tango (the sequel to her Booklist starred debut novel Touched by an Alien) will be available from DAW on December 7, 2010. Pre-order it if you can; TBAA is one of the funniest sci-fi adventures I've read in a loooooooooooooooooooooong time. Trust me.

Sticking My Toe Into The Supreme Court's Business: The Language of Hatred and the First Amendment

2010-10-06T20:20:00.000-04:00

Disclaimer: I am not a legal expert. I am a citizen with google-fu, political science education, and an abiding interest in the First Amendment who is kind of pissed off.

Last week, a group from the Westboro Baptist Church stopped off in Columbus on their way to Washington, where the Supreme Court will decide on the court case that Albert Snyder, father of slain Marine Lance Corporl Matthew Snyder, brought against the group as the result of their protest at his son's 2006 funeral. They went to a corner on the Ohio State campus, with their normal regalia, and protested as part of their 1-70 Godsmack Tour.

No offense to the rock band; I didn't name the event. They did. Voodoo is a great song, by the way.

I don't think it's a stretch to say that any decent, normal human being abhors a thought process that allows people to justify an intrusion upon a family's grief. In my world, people don't think that soldiers killed in the line of duty are somehow God's punishment against America's 'immorality' about abortion and homosexuals. Honestly, trying to decipher that train of thought would give Sigmund Freud insomnia. I think it's also fair to say that the Westboro protesters are deliberately exploiting the media coverage given to soldier's funerals as a platform in which to spread their ideology.

If we could convict them for being insensitive douchebags, this would be an open and shut case.

Unfortunately, legal douchebagdom is not the issue here. The issue is the First Amendment of the Constitution and its protection of free speech.

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

Westboro claims that the First Amendment protects them against civil claims. Snyder was awarded $5 million dollars in damages, a decision that was then overturned by the Fourth Circuit Court. So now, the US Supreme Court gets to tackle the case--and it may have ramifications upon us all.

But here's my first question: does the First Amendment actually protect individuals or groups claiming the right to free speech from private action? The First Amendment was conceived with the intention of protecting the rights of the people against the government. "Congress shall make no law" doesn't just imply that--it states it straight out. So it seems to me that a civil action between Mr. Snyder and the Westboro Baptist Church would not be not be a First Amendment case. That would actually be a pretty good deterrent to the WBC protesters too--you have the right to say what you want at a soldier's funeral, and the soldier's family has the right to sue you for it.

I've heard a lot of people bringing up the 'fire in a crowded theater' misquote of Oliver Wendell Holmes lately too. Yes, you read that correctly--MISquote. The actual quote from the majority decision in Schenck v. United States in 1919. (The real quote from the opinion is: The most stringent protection of free speech would not protect a man falsely shouting fire in a theater and causing a panic. You can shout "Fire!" in a crowded theater as long as there really is a fire. But I digress.) The First Amendment part of Schenck was subsequently overturned in Brandenburg v. Ohio which restricted prohibited speech to that which was likely to cause 'imminent lawless action.'

I'm curious to see how Brandenburg might apply to the Westboro case. I'm reasonably positive that if my son were killed in action and WBC showed up to protest at his funeral, there would be a lot of imminent lawless action. (Trust me--you don't know my family.) It seems to me to be a logical extension of Brandenburg, one that could apply to this case.

But, as hard as it is to say this, there are aspects of this case that disturb me as well. The Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press and multiple news organizations have filed an amicus brief citing their objections to the case. First, the brief claims that the petitioner (Mr. Snyder) is asking to silence the defendent (WBC); second, that the First Amendment does not permit the offensiveness of speech to trump the freedom of expression; and third, that tort liability would undermine the basic principles of the First Amendment. Go read the brief; I've linked to it and it's not only pertinent but interesting.

To the first objection, I'm going to have to disagree. I don't think Mr. Snyder cares that WBC says what they do. His objection is to the emotional trauma and harassment his family received from the WBC at his son's funeral. There I have to agree. A sign that says "God loves dead soldiers" can't be construed as anything other than harassment, particularly when directed at a captive audience, which mourners at a funeral are.

The second objection is a bit trickier. When does offensive speech--okay, let's get real, HATE speech--cross over the line to harassment? I think this is where Brandenburg can come into play. Remember the scene in Die Hard 3, where they drop Bruce Willis off in Harlem in his tidy whities wearing a sign with the n-bomb on it? Remember what happens?

I don't think that's unrealistic. The harassment and emotional trauma caused by WBC protests will eventually jump right over the line into violence--probably sooner rather than later. There is a legitimate case to be made that signs like "God hates fags" and "Thank God for IEDs" will eventually get some people hurt and/or killed. So do we protect their free speech and just let them get their asses kicked? Or, do we determine that their speech is deliberately incendiary and inciting violence and restrict them to marketing their agenda of hatred in otherm more appropriate forums?

But then, we hit the kicker--tort liability and the potential undermining of the First Amendment. We've already seen several high profile libel cases in recent years. Remember Carol Burnett v The National Enquirer, Inc? This was a landmark case, especially for celebrities, who had been spectacularly unsuccessful in libel cases prior to this. What made the case so important was the court's determination that the Enquirer had employed "actual malice" and that, because they didn't comply with the California regulations for newspapers, and as thus were liable for punitive damages despite the retraction they'd printed. After some pretty strenuous searching on my part, I haven't found any undermining of the First Amendment due to this tort liability. (I have, however, noticed that the National Enquirer has been tippy-toeing in its claims about celebrities since.)

Here' s the gig--I am a writer. I firmly believe in the powers of the First Amendment and the protection of free speech in this country. The First Amendment is one of the cornerstones of our Constitution.

But, we've stretched the Consitution and its intent well beyond anything the drafters could have considered in the late eighteenth century. It is my belief that the Westboro Baptist Church has intended all along to take advantage of the American preoccupation with preserving First Amendment rights, that they want to be martyred in the public eye, that the whole reason they've carried their 'protests' to these funerals is in the hope that someone would lose their temper and attack them. I think their conduct demonstrates this, as is evidenced by this from Time:

After the arguments concluded, Margie Phelps marched down the Supreme Court steps with her sister, Shirley Phelps-Roper; both huge smiles on their faces. Phelps-Roper did a little jig and said, "If I could shout 'Woo-hoo' right now, I would say 'woo-hoo.'" (There was nothing stopping her.) Margie, so controlled and logical in the courtroom, then joined her family at a press conference where they started singing to the tune of Ozzie Osbourne's "Crazy Train": "Cryin' bout your feelings/for your sins, no shame/You're going straight to hell on your crazy train."

The Time article, by the way, has a nice breakdown of today's arguments and events. Go read it.

I don't often break my own rules and delve into politics on this blog; I think other forums are more important. But this case incites a lot of emotion on both sides of the issue. Strangely, almost everyone agrees in the douchebagness of Fred Phelps and the WBC and empathizes with the Snyders. But now, the SCOTUS has to decide whether it's okay to be a douchebag and manipulate the courts or whether the cherished and sacred reverence our country has for the Bill of Rights has limits under the law. Regardless of what they decide, we should all follow this case.

It has implications for us all.

Out of Hibernation

2010-09-29T16:04:00.001-04:00

It's been a long time since I've been this busy. I don't think I've ever had a stretch of out and out craziness since I started this blog. Has it really been over two months since I posted here? Wow!

Well, let's catch you up.

Editing has taken over long stretches of time at the Elf Killing desk. Over the past few months, I've worked with a lot of authors both at Aspen Mountain Press and at Aurora Regency: Marguerite Butler two books--both Regencies in her Mad Hatterlys series), Kimberly Nee (two books, both historicals, in her McKenzie Brothers series at Aurora), Andy Dunn (a new author with a fabulous gay romantic comedy), Lizzie T. Leaf (two books--her Cougar Club hit Butterfly Kisses and the latest in her DEAD series of erotic paranormal romances), LB Gregg (two books: the fourth in her Men of Smithfield series In and Out and her really fabulous Halloween m/m erotic romance Dudleytown), Cindi Myers (two books, both reissues of her successful string of books from the nineties--A Willing Spirit and Patchwork Hearts), Jennifer Horsman (her re-release of Magic Embrace), Arabella Sheraton (one of our Aurora pre-launch Regencies The Dangerous Duke), Helen Hardt (her latest Cougar Club story, Calendar Boy, came out last Friday), Sloane Taylor (with three of her Naughty Ladies of Nice erotic romances), Cynnara Tregarth, Amber Skyze, Addison Avery, Colleen Stormer...so yeah, I've been swamped. That's not even counting all the work we're doing to get ready for Aurora's official launch on October 15th. Things have been hectic and wild and somehow, I'm managing to scrape through.

But things are also busy on the writing front. The second book in The Vampires Covenants series, Warding the Covenants, comes out this Friday. Rob Graham and I co-authored that book and I'm so glad it's finally heading out the gate. I've been really preoccupied with completing the final book in the series, Defending the Covenants. This book is entirely mine--Rob is no longer involved with the project--and should be coming out from AMP in January. I'm also still working on the fourth Mythos book, which I hope to finish before the end of the month.

And wait--there's still more--

It looks like my new fantasy project, Primordia, is going to be completed in time for me to pitch it at the World Fantasy Convention in Columbus at the end of October. I'm very excited about it--it's different from anything I've ever written before.

So we shall see.

At any rate, here's a peek at the cover for Warding the Covenants, which comes out on Friday, and the blurb. I hope you're looking forward to it!

When Marcellin Dautin is named the Elder of Venice, fledgling vampire Marguerite and her husband Gunther agree to accompany him in hopes of learning more about the Russian revolt against the Conclave of Elders. After an ancient renegade vampire murders the Doge, they are drawn into a dangerous hunt for the assassin.

But as Marguerite's powers grow, so too does the danger. Some vampires oppose Marcellin's rule over Venice, the renegade has begun to stalk Marguerite and her old Russian enemies are determined to capture her and the Elder's sword she bears. While Venice dances through the Carnivale season, Gunther must lay aside all restraint to protect his young wife. Can they remain true to the Covenants they've pledged to preserve or will their love shatter under the strain of Warding the Covenants?

Taking Stock

2010-07-18T02:42:00.000-04:00

I think now is a good time to sit back for a moment and take stock of my career in publishing. It's only been three years since my first book was published. Since then, all four books of The Asphodel Cycle have been released, my short story collection Metamorphosis, the first book of The Vampire Covenants with Rob Graham, and now the first three books of Mythos. I have ten other books completed and another seven at various stages of completion. Two of them are paranormal romance, one is horror and the rest are either urban or epic fantasy.

I have not been writing as much as of late--I've been concentrating on my role as an editor. Since I began editing two years ago, I have worked on over forty books with over twenty writers. I've advanced to senior editor at Aspen Mountain Press. I came up with the concept for the Aurora imprint at AMP and am the head editor there. With the sneak peek of Aurora next week and the official launch of the company in October, I am focusing my energy and attention upon it.

Although I haven't been writing much, I am still meeting my daily word count requirements. As of today, I have written almost half a million words in 2010. My goal is one million words--and although 600,000 of them might be crap, at least they'll be on paper.

Currently, I have five other fantasy worlds completely built, down to societies, cultures, histories, mythologies, geography and races. Those five worlds are peopled with characters who are completely fleshed out down to favoritehas the teeth colors and personality quirks. Those characters' stories out sketched out: I always know the ending for my stories, but how I get there is made up on the writing path.

I am at a crossroads in my career and I know it. Once Aurora is launched and I'm working on a nice, rhythmic calm schedule, with more editors to take up some of the work, I hope to be able to refocus upon my writing. I could probably do it now if one of my story ideas took off with me.

So that's what I'm hoping will happen. I am taking a full week off from writing. Yes, you heard me: a full week. Seven whole days beginning tomorrow. I am not going to open a single darn word file that begins with my initials. Instead, I'm going to spend my free time reading. I'm going to read every word I've got in the stories that I'm working on. I'm going to allow my brain to consider each story, where it's going, what the stakes are for the characters, the pertinency of the conflict. I'm going to try to determine which story has the teeth to sink into my psyche and shake me out of the morass of indecision that is stifling my direction.

Yes, I'm going to take stock. I'm going to go back to the time when writing was both entertainment and joy instead of work. I'm going to let a story take me for a while, instead of the other way around. Sometimes every writer needs to do that, no matter what they have cooking on the stove. Feeling stymied?

Then stop. Take a break. Recharge those batteries and let your creative processes relax for a time.

And seven days from now, I'll come back and let you know if it worked.

Mythos 3: Beloved of a Mortal Now Available

2010-07-16T16:48:00.000-04:00

The third book of my mythological romance series, Mythos 3:Beloved of a Mortal, has been released and is now available through Aspen Mountain Press.

After a prophecy that Thetis’ son would be greater than his father, the male gods of Olympus shun her. She is now an outcast, wandering the mountains in Greece and seething against the petty motivations of the other immortals.
Peleus is a Greek hero and warrior prince. On a visit to the king of Iolcos, he fends off the advances of the Queen. When she lies to her husband and claims Peleus is in love with her, the King strands Peleus on a mountain. Only the intervention of a beautiful immortal saves him from a horrible death.
Peleus and Thetis fall in love, but their future is uncertain. Can Peleus overcome the obstacles the gods have set in his way? Or will Thetis be strong enough to fight for the man she loves? When a goddess is the beloved of a mortal, only the help of those who love her can save her from the anger of the gods.

I love release days. They're always so exciting. There's something really cool about seeing the link to your book go live and knowing that people who have read the previous books and love the series are going to be reading your work over the weekend and (hopefully) loving this book too.

This book has a particularly special place in my heart because it's a story I've always thought needed to be told. The myth of Thetis and Peleus was extremely important to the Greeks but has been overlooked by more modern interpretations of Greco-Roman mythology. I mean--these two are the parents of Achilles, the greatest warrior of anitquity and the hero (albeit a whiny hero) of the Trojan War! And while the relationship between Thetis and Peleus was extremely rocky after their marriage, the characters still genuinely loved each other and their son.

So why not tell it?

It won't be long before Mythos 4 is completed and I'll talk more about it in the weeks ahead. But, until then, here's my latest offering and I hope you like it.

Stalled

2010-07-09T17:27:00.000-04:00

Yep, that's me. Stalled. Oh, I'm still writing--when I can. At the moment, though, I'm so busy with all my other hats I'm having trouble finding the time to write. Then, when I do find the time, I struggle for a few minutes with what I should be working on.

Problem number one of writing multiple projects at the same time.

There are so many things I need to get finsished. I got Harlequin done, thank goodness, so I don't have to worry about that. It's in the hands of a beta right now. Terella is getting revamped again--yeah, I know. How many overhauls can one project take? The answer to that is simple--whatever it needs. I've been researching Oriental culture and society, wanting to give Terella a more non-European flavor. It'll be interesting to see if I can pull it off. I'm close to the end of the Covenants final book, but I'm not really sure what I should do to end it. Usually, I know the ending of a book before I begin it, but this time I thought I'd let it happen organically. I'm working on the fourth Mythos book, but it's struggling. As for the other projects, they're in hiatus--The Vengeance of Anne Boleyn, La Belle Dame Sans Merci, The Bell Demon--yep, all waiting for me to get some direction.

But until AMP's anniversary celebration is done and Aurora is launched, I'm going to have to put writing on the shelf for a little while and catch time when I can. How annoying! While my other jobs are satisfying to me professionally, it's writing I want to be doing.

We shall see. I think I'm going to shut off the internet and the phone, move into the TV-less study and see if I can rededicate myself to my craft this evening.

It should work.

Major Reviewers, Third Party Sites, and the Continuing Prejudice Against E-Publishing

2010-06-24T17:21:00.000-04:00

Not too long ago, my trusty Google alerts informed me that a blogger had mentioned my name in a post. That had happened before--an old nemesis from my past had bemoaned the fact that mean people like me could get published while nice people like her couldn't. Needless to say, I was steeling myself as the site came up.

What I found was totally unexpected. The An American Editor blog had mentioned me very kindly as a good new author he'd found on Fictionwise. I was pretty chuffed by the mention--after all, it's not very often you get an unexpected mention like that. So a few weeks later, I was completely floored when the same blogger posted "LE Modesitt Jr and Celina Summers: Fantasy in Contrast." In this post, American Editor compared my Asphodel Cycle to Modesitt's Saga of Recluse series, giving Asphodel a great review in the process.

At the time, I considered sending him a box of chocolates. After all, writers published through small presses rarely get unlooked for reviews and especially not from a professional in the business. So I sent the review to my editors and did a little happy dance and that small promotional part of me wondered, "Gee, can I use this review? It would be really cool if that review showed up at Ficitonwise or Amazon--maybe it would help sales..."

And, lo and behold, while I was dithering the review did show up at Fictionwise, posted by An American Editor. Quite interestingly after that, I got a spike in sales for The Asphodel Cycle at Fictionwise which I assumed (and still do) was a direct result of that review.

So yesterday, my Google alerts rang up again, and once again An American Editor mentioned my name. The blog post was entitled Finding the Needle in a Haystack of Needles: Reader Reviews. Throughout the post, the editor examined the difficulties of finding a good ebook to purchase and explored one of the reasons why--the lack of credible reviews for e-published works. I really recommend that you read the post. Aside from being fascinating, it's also very direct.

One of the biggest problems I have as an ebook reader and buyer is finding that proverbial needle in a haystack of needles, that is, the ebook worth buying and reading that is written by an independent author. The ease of publishing an ebook has created a flood of ebooks to choose among, and making that choice is increasingly difficult.

That one paragraph encapsulates the major problem facing e-book authors today. How do we find a readership? In some category genres, like erotica or romantica, the key is prolific releases. The erotic aauthor who releases a book every month or so, who begins with outstanding reviews from big romance sites, is going to build and maintain a readership. These books are usually novellas, usually serial, and usually keep the writer in a specific niche. I edit several authors who are able to accomplish this and my hat is off to them.

Although romance is a strong thread in my work, however, I am primarily a speculative fiction writer. Asphodel, Covenants, and Mythos are all fantasy series and while Mythos is being released as serial novellas, the subject matter (Greco-Roman mythology) lends itself to that format. My other books are novels and big, fat novels at that. It's difficult, if not impossible in my opinion, to build a strong, cohesive readership in purely speculative fiction e-books. My books get reviewed, yes--and usually get strong reviews--Novelspot, Love Romances and More, Coffee Time Romance, Night Owl, Two Lips Reviews and scads more have given my books four and five stars repeatedly.

I'm not saying this to brag--I'm telling you this as an illustration. The normal review sites for my genre do not review e-books.

When The Reckoning of Asphodel was reviewed by In the Library, I had to print out the book--five hundred plus pages of paper--and ship it to the reviewer. (That's why they never reviewed past the first book; it was too darn expensive) So the reviews I get are read by people who primarily prefer another genre entirely--romance. Not fantasy readers; romance readers.While there's enough romance in my stories to satisfy a fan of romance, it's secondary to the primary plot. And that, I think, is the huge problem for fantasy and sci fi authors published through electronic means.

We don't have many avenues to receive reviews that are credible to our target audience.

Reader reviews on third party sites are either just starred reviews--where you click on a star level from one to five to indicate your enjoyment of the book--or generally stilted one line comments. Occasionally, you get a good review from a reader, but that doesn't help you to combat the hordes of re-releases choking the top of the best seller lists on Amazon or Fictionwise. I don't delude myself into thinking I can compete with Mercedes Lackey's entire backlist when it comes to sales for people's Kindle or I-pads. This is new in e-publishing. Remember: The Reckoning of Asphodel was nbumber one on Fictionwise in fantasy for two weeks after its release--knocking off Neil Gaiman's Stardust the same week the movie came out. The major publishers were still trying to ignore e-publishers at that point.

Subsequent Asphodel novels hit the bestseller list--The Gift of Redemption hit the top twenty; Temptation of Asphodel the top twenty-five and Apostle of Asphodel only the top fifty. I think the decrease is pretty representative of how the public view of e-published books changed over the course of those three years.

So how do we combat that? How can e-published spec fic authors break through the veil of condescenscion that masks us from our target audience, the disdain of major review sites, the immense backlog of reissues at third party distributors, the obscurity our lack of name recognition consigns us to? Well, notices like the one An American Editor gave me certainly do help. After his review appeared, the Asphodel books gained new readers--readers I was able to track as they progressed their way through the series. As a matter of fact, The Reckoning of Asphodel reappeared in the Fictionwise top 100 bestseller list in Fantasy for a time, followed by its sequels in approximately 3 week intervals. So the word can get out there and it does have an effect. An American Editor makes a few suggestions on their blog, geared toward reader reviews and how the third part distributors can change the way those reviews are given--offering rewards for more extensive responses to pre-prepared questionnaires about the book.

I have a different idea.

Let's take all those reissues OFF the regular genre pages. Let new literature live or die against recent releases, not against JRR Tolkien's legacy released all at once in a new format. Give us six months to maneuver among other books of the same age, giving us true bestseller status and visibility. How hard would that be? I wouldn't think it was that difficult at all. That way, new authors can get noticed and readers searching for new voices don't have to click past fifty pages of fifty years of genre writing. That's one way.

Another way, perhaps, would be easier if the major reviewers would implement e-publishing regulations. When will the NYT review an e-wpublished book? Heck, for that matter when will they review a book released by a small independent publisher? How about Romantic Times? The big sci fi and fantasy reviewers? There is a LOT of great literature out there, released by e-publishers who are willing to take a chance on literature that the major houses passed by. Why ignore it?

When I was at the RT convention, I asked the agents' panel if e-published books were now considered a legitimate publishing credit. To a person, they admitted that whereas three years ago e-books weren't, now they can be, depending upon the house that published them. E-publishers like Ellora's Cave and Samhain (and now Aspen Mountain Press, whose reputation for good editing and strong stories) are moving beyond the one-time prejudice against electronic publishing. That's good news.

That good news needs to seep into the minds of review sites, of NY publishing houses and the third party distributors who abandoned their early commitment to e-publishing in favor of mass reissues of authors' whole backlists from scanned versions of older editions. At Aurora, I'm working with an author who is reissuing her backlist with us--one book at a time, each book re-edited and re-formatted to meet e-publishing standards and each book treated as a new release by the company. She is a pleasure and a joy to work with, because she's committed to the idea of e-publishing as the format of the future and is bringing new manuscripts to the table in addition to her backlist. There is a difference between what she is doing and what the NY publishers, with the collusion of major third party ditributors, are doing to the e-publishing industry. She's integrating into it; they are taking advantage of it.

But more importantly, what An American Editor is doing is a huge first step. By their continued championship of e-published books and their quest to legitimize the jewels a reader can find hidden in the overwhelming mess of third party distributorship, they are calling attention to a new and growing problem e-published authors are facing. And for that, I have to thank them.

And for the review too. Heck, I'm not stupid.

Work and Work and Work

2010-06-21T01:27:00.000-04:00

The story of my life.

Work and work and more work and work still and continuing work and new work and the same old same old work. Good grief--I've got so much piled on my plate I'm a single person smorgasbord.

But I love it, you know? I love being so busy I don't know what to do yet. This week, my husband's family is getting together for the first time in years. I'm meeting his oldest brother and his family for the first time and Shannon and I have been together for a decade.So naturally, I'm scrambling around trying to get the house ready for guests--some of whom are children--while, at the same time, getting work done for AMP and Aurora and me.

Oh my.

*Yes--A Wizard of Oz moment*

I've got books to be scanned, manuscripts to finalize, submissions to read, writing deadlines and editing deadlines of my own, covers to be approved, art to be assigned, publicity to get cranking and this week I have to scrub, vaccuum, clean and conceal--the latter being necessary on the off chance someone gets nosy enough to poke around in my linen closet. And I am in my element--loving every second of it even while I whine about how much crap I have to do.

Some of that made it onto the new Aurora Regency blog if you want to go read about that. Yes--another project that got off the ground this week: http://www.auroraregency.blogspot.com/ is the place to go for information about the imprint, submissions and upcoming releases. Go check it out.

I have to clean this spot on my couch.

Catharsis

2010-06-01T18:22:00.000-04:00

Those who know how to win are much more numerous than those who know how to make proper use of their victories.

Polybius (205 BC - 118 BC)

It's not very often that I'll blog on something that has some rudimentary basis in philosophy, but my Plato is beckoning to me from my bookshelf and I'm feeling kind of sassy. So today, this thought has been bouncing back and forth in my head, on the pages I've written and throughout my life's journey.

You know what *those* strange single days are like? The ones where everything changes and you didn't know it? Didn't see it coming? I had a day like that yesterday. It was a normal day, save for being a national holiday. My husband was at home. We spent the weekend just spending time together--and I don't mean in the physical *together in the same room* kind of together. I mean together--talking, learning about each other again, having fun, enjoying each other's company. For some people, that might involve sitting in a cabin high atop a lonely mountain, or perched on a pier overlooking the ocean. Not us.

For us, that means a pretty vicious Mario Party tournament.

Yes, we're corny. At any rate--

While we played our marathon video game battle out on the screen, we were talking. We managed to hash out a lot of issues that we've just let slide for months now--issues that crept in between us at points and brought us closer together at others. We just...had fun. No pressure. That lack of pressure enabled us, I think, to talk freely about things that we've either been putting off or just not wanting to deal with., And, as a result, we're both much happier people today than we were on Sunday.

Okay. I know what you're thinking.

Celina, you're whacked. What in the HELL does this have to do with victories?

Well, let me tell you.

Aside from me stomping him into the dirt during our Mario Party war, there were other victories won over the course of the day. Victories over fear. Victories over procrastination. Victories over getting into a rut. Victories over the machinations of petty people around us. Victories over pain and its lasting and daily effects upon our personal lives. Victories over expectations and pressures. Victories over suspicions and mistrust. Victories over loneliness, or neediness.

We won victories over the societal need for instant gratification, over the dread that responsibilities can bring. We won victories over anger and lies and manipulations. We won victories over those who would like to destroy us.

We won victories over ourselves.

Yep. That's an awful lot of victories over the course of 120 rounds of Mario Party 8.

You see, Polybius' words are general: Those who know how to win are much more numerous than those who know how to make proper use of their victories. But the application of those words can be very specific. We all attain victories every day of our lives--most of them small; some of them huge. But what do we do with those victories? Is it enough merely to have won?

Or, do we have an obligation to take those victories big and small and make them into something else? Are they tools we can use to gain further victories? Or building blocks, perhaps, to set up a new game?

So take a moment and think about that. What victory have you won lately? What did you do with it? When I managed to get my first novel down on paper, I won a huge victory at a daunting task. Lots of people start books; few finish them. I did. And then I took that victory and used it to win another, and another, and another--to the tune of what now? Seventeen completed manuscripts? Nine published already? Three to be published in the next couple of months? The rest in various places at various stages? That's a lot of victories built from the original basis of one.

So knowing how to win is important, but knowing what to do once you have won is, in many cases, even more so. Especially at three in the morning when you're getting ready to do a battle mini game and there are eighty coins on the line.

Yes. I won. I won it all.

Ruminations and Revelations

2010-05-20T00:25:00.000-04:00

Today is a strange day in my world. Today would have been my mother's 77th birthday.

My mother plays a huge role in my writing. She always has. When I was a kid, she encouraged me to read and to write--except in the summers when she'd lock me out of the house and make me go play outside for a while. Otherwise, I would have sat in my room all summer reading. When I was in high school and doing all sorts of extra-curricular activities--any extra curricular activity that involved the word CONTEST was high up on my list--she would cart me all over the country to help me get my research done or get to a competition.

When she died, I found copies of two papers I wrote for the History Day competition among her things. I was a pretentious little cuss, and I'd written epic poems instead of plain old term papers.

So, in a lot of ways, I owe the writer that I am to my mother. As a first-generation American (French emigre') she was proud of my command of the English language. She encouraged me to strive for any academic goal I wanted and went out of her way to help me attain them with whatever support she could give me. When I won state in History Day and went on to nationals, she went with our group to Washington DC and we had the best time. Of our group, only one other girl besides myself was that interested in hitting the historical sites, so the two of us and my mom and the two teacher/chaperones trekked all over Washington. We walked through the White House and the Smithsonians together, went to the Library of Congress, gate crashed Senator Howard Baker's office at the Capital, did rubbings at the National Cathedral and wandered around Arlington. We even shook President Reagan's hand (we were in the right place at the right time) and when I placed fifth in the nation, she was proud and happy.

And it was almost literally the last good time we had together.

What a waste.

Since her death almost five years ago, she's fueled my writing in another way. My anger with her has seeped into every single story I've written. My short story Funeral Meats (in my short story collection Metamorphosis) was entirely about how I dealed with her death--or didn't. And now, on her birthday, I spent an inordinate amount of time today wondering what she would think about my writing now. Would she like it? Would she be proud? Would she think I was on the right path? Would all that promise she thought I had as a kid have been justified in her eyes?

And just a tiny voice in the back of my mind wonders, Would she care?

It's a strange and sobering thought. I'm reasonably certain she wouldn't have thought that Funeral Meats, where a squirrel runs off with her metaphorical ashes, was all that flattering. Well, good. It wasn't meant to be. But would she have seen past that? Would she have set the book down after she read it and thought, "Well. At least she can write?"

Writers are driven by many strange things. Some, no doubt, are prodded by ambition. Still others just want to tell a good story, to entertain their readers. I think that in some strange, warped way, I'm still energized by my mother. I still crave her good opinion. I still want to get up in her face and say, "Look what I did. Now what do you have to say about that?"

So as I look at my writing desk every day, I see a couple of reminders of her: a picture of my parents' wedding in Paris, her tiny citizenship flag that she cherished, two high school contest papers and something I use every day.

Her thesaurus, battered and dogeared, that she used to expand her English vocabulary.

I guess that's really my answer right there. Happy birthday, Mom.

Time Off Comes to a Close

2010-05-18T12:26:00.000-04:00

So, yeah--my time off from blogging is done. I've been writing and editing, but after A Month In The Life, I figured you guys deserved A Fortnight Of Silence.

All done now. It actually works out fairly well. I've had a not-quite-stellar couple of weeks physically, including a brutal bout of insomnia and (of course) a lot of back pain. That aside, it's still been pretty productive though. I finished the first draft of Harlequin, which may or may not be the sequel to Deception Enters Stage Left. I wrote the story to make. the. characters. shut. up. (Ever have a story like that? One that just wants to keep on going? Some gene in my DNA makes me want to write years' worth of fantasy soap opera. Not such a bad thing...) I'm getting close to finishing the final Covenants story--Defying The Covenants. We're shooting for a Halloween-area release on that one at AMP. Mythos has hit the backburner. My editor has the third book and I'm holding off on number four until I get Covenants done.

All that being said, some interesting things popped up on my Google Alerts today--a pair of reviews for the last two Asphodel books: Tempation of Asphodel and Apostle of Asphodel. Bitten by Books had this to say about Temptation:

"...excellent tales and everything a good fantasy should be. They are multifaceted with a sweet innocence for the heroine that is definitely in contradiction to modern urban fantasy which portrays women as hard and uncompromising. Tamsen is hard when she needs to be yet compassionate and questioning when warranted....I would definitely recommend for fantasy lovers of any ages. Celina Summers slays this series!"

Hard to find fault with a review like that, especially when they follow up immediately with this about Apostle:

"...This tale is EPIC! This is the final chapter to a grand series with all of the tales in it at four-hundred plus pages. There are several worlds with different races (former enemies of the elves, the humans, or the sorcerers) coming together to battle a great evil. This series has over a dozen significant characters coming together from several of the previous tales to unite in love and mutual respect to recreate a great battle in Ilia; hopefully this time all of the characters reminiscent of the past battle will prevail, stop several curses, and eliminate a god...I would recommend it for the young or not so young dragon or harpie slayer. Slay on, Celina Summers, I will be watching for you to produce the next Harry Potter, because you have the killer writer gene!"

I love reviews like these, not only because they are very flattering but also because this is the review of a reader who got it. Know what I mean? Sometimes, at least for me, I find making that connection is more gratifying than the raves. (Yeah, Celina--right) I love it when someone finds the dichotomy in my main character (Tamsen was written intentionally as a response to the hard, brittle fantasy heroine. I wanted to make sure she retained her humanity even in a world of elves and centaurs--and a tender love coupled with crippling emotional blows make a character more credible, in my point of view at least) or recognizes the scope in which I've written the story (the battle in Ilia--the second Trojan War in my imagined world of Asphodel--and how that one event can culminate multiple story lines). And while I really hope I produce the next Harry Potter--who wouldn't?--the fact that this reviewer saw past the story and into what I was trying to do means so much and gives me something to build from as I move into other stories.

Which, considering that Asphodel is another one of those stories where the characters. just. won't. shut. up. is a very good thing.

Well. Back to work. I'm glad to be back to blogging; it's time to kick my daily routines back into high gear.

Mythos 2:Daughter of the Sea Now Available!

2010-05-08T01:22:00.000-04:00

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand it's out!

Mythos 2: Daughter of the Sea is now available at Aspen Mountain Press.

The young gods of Olympus have pursued the sea god Nereus’ daughters, Amphitrite and Thetis, since they grew to maturity. The sisters are used to the adoration of immortal men and like the attention they receive. But when the imprisoned Titan, Prometheus, makes a prophecy that Thetis’ son will be greater than his father, the gods shun the beautiful nymph. Thetis hides herself away from Olympus, leaving her sister Amphitrite angry and in no mood to deal with the fickle tastes of men.

When the King of the ocean, Poseidon, watches Amphitrite dance at a feast upon Olympus, he falls instantly in love with her. His attempts to court Amphitrite end in disaster; she flees to the one place in the three realms where no Olympian can go. Can Poseidon find some messenger to break through her anger and win her heart? Or will the great god of the oceans be spurned by this daughter of the sea?

I have to tell you, I absolutely LOVE this story. I liked writing Amphitrite--who is underknown in the Greco-Roman mythologies--because I could get away from proscribed personalities or tendencies. I could make her (and her sister, Thetis, in the next book) more my own. Amphitrite is a no-nonsense kick ass kind of heroine who makes Poseidon jump through hoops. HER hoops. Literally.

Can't argue with that.

At any rate, you can take a look at Daughter of the Sea on the Aspen Mountain Press website for now and major third party distributors within the week.

And don't forget to enjoy the best abs in mythology on the cover, too. Hard to argue with a god that looks like one. Special kudos to Tuesday Dube for the fantastic cover and a big shout out to Lori Basiewicz, my long-suffering editor.

Y'all enjoy!

RT Pictures

2010-05-06T01:32:00.000-04:00

The authors' panel at Bobbi Smith's workshop. From the left, that's Heather Graham, Debra Parmley, Linnea Sinclair and Jade Lee. I tried to get a shot of Stacey Kade (who is sitting next to Linnea) but just couldn't get a shot around that head in the way.

This is the gift basket that Lizzie T. Leaf, Sam Cheever and I contributed to for the booksellers at the convention.

Laura Baumbach talking with Robert Gregory Browne at "our" table in the bar. We chose the table for two reasons: first, it was right by the elevator banks and second, because it gave us an unadulterated view of our banner. Both Laura and Robert are great people to talk to--and drink with...not that I would know...

For some reason, Lizzie T. Leaf (on the left) and Sandra Hicks didn't want this picture to be seen by anyone. *grin*

So naturally, I had to post it. I think it's funny and I'm not sure how many hurricanes and glasses of wine we'd had by this particular point in the evening.

"Saving the boys"

The Faerie Ball was a lot of fun, but we were considered a safe haven for Bret Battles, Robert Gregory Browne and Jason Scott Bell after the strip show the night before during Ellora Cave's Red party. (The male dancers didn't actually strip, which was a bummer, but the boys weren't taking any chances) That's Cynthia Vespia on the left. keeping them entertained. All three men were fabulous people and fantastic writers, and I've added Jason's The Art of War for Writers to my reference shelf. Outstanding book about writing--I recommend it highly.

Another picture of Cynthia Vespia, who was signing copies of her book The Crescent at the Thursday Book Expo. Female gladiators!!! Let me repeat that--female gladiators!!!!! Cyn's books are a hell of a lot of fun--but I knew that already from reading her Demon Hunter series.

Lizzie T. Leaf, looking absolutely gorgeous as she prepared to sign copies of her book Dead Done Right. I edit Lizzie and she's one of my favorite writers to work with.

Another of my favorite writers that I edit--that's the glorious LB Gregg on the left, sitting next to Cyn at the AMP bar table. If you look closely, you can see our banner over LB's right shoulder.

Lucynda Storey, my fabulous editor for the Asphodel series, at the Friday book signing. That's my Mythos 1: Bride of Death cover in the lower right hand corner. We all switched up on the promo items, mixing and matching them all week for greater AMP exposure--one of the great benefits of working together as a group to promote each other.

And this would be my husband Shannon, looking adorable and pretending to listen intently before he kills off that Killians in his hand. As far as I was concerned, Shannon won "Husband of the Convention" honors for always double-checking--and sometimes stocking--my promo lane display as soon as he arrived at the convention each night. It didn't take long for the other AMP ladies to learn to appreciate my husband either. By the end of the week, he'd been thoroughly spoiled by all of them.

If anyone else has RT pictures they want to share, just drop me a line! Because, you might have noticed, there's something missing in all these pictures--me. *grin* Not that it was intentional or anything.

A Month In The Life--Saturday, May 1, 2010

2010-05-06T01:01:00.000-04:00

Yep--you get an extra day in this month because this whole past month has been about the Romantic Times convention and this was the last day of it, at least for me. So May Day was spent dancing around the flower laden pole that is a book signing at a major event with major authors.

No, I didn't get to sign. I got to watch and take pictures and run errands, which was total awesomness from my point of view. First off, I was in sneakers and jeans--sheer bliss after five days of misery. I'd determined from the beginning that while I would love to have every single darn book in the ballroom, I had to restrict myself. So I kept to books from writers who'd been especially helpful and/or friendly throughout the week.

First off, then, was the lovely and simply loveable Bobbi Smith. Aside from hosting and directing the two-day pre convention workshop that was the most helpful event I've ever attended as a writer, Bobbi has one of those absolutely incredible personalities, the kind that makes you believe you can go out and do exactly what she believes you can do. I would happily spend a week or two brewing her coffee and taking phone messages for this woman--and I honestly believe I would learn more doing that that I did in four years of writing classes at college. She's one of my new idols.

Isn't Bobbi beautiful? I wish I could wear that color pink, but alas! Too much red in this redhead's hair.

Next on the list was Linnea Sinclair. I really bonded with her and Stacey Kade during their workshop on how to stay inspired, and bonded even more with Linnea when the subject of scam agencies and vanity publishers came up in the author's panel. She writes kick ass science fiction with kick ass heroines--not hard to understand at all since she's a kick ass kind of gal herself. It's been a long time since I've dipped my toes in the sci fi pool, and Linnea has convinced me to do it. I can't wait to read her book.

See what I mean? Linnea is an absolute firecracker!

I have to admit, by the end of the week I felt like a Misery-esque number one fan of Jade Lee. Her characterization workshop completely changed the way I look at my characters and if it weren't for her advice on pitches during the authors' panel, I would never have gotten the requests I did. But all that aside, it's really hard for me not to totally dig a chick who's as smartass as I am, writes the kind of fantasy I love, seems to have a similar outlook on writing and speculative fiction as I do AND who used my promotional document stands all over her table at the booksigning. It would be the equivalent of Albert Einstien using my abacus to demonstrate the theory of relativity and I totally ate that up. Here's Jade in one of her more serious moments:

One of my favorite new acquaintances during the entire convention, and once I got over being totallyu gobsmacked by even talking to her, I felt like I'd known her forever.

These pictures, by the way, took place before the doors opened. After they opened, I wasn't able to get any more great closeups and was barely able to get any books. Why, you may ask? Well, because there were at least 3,000 people streaming through the doors as best I could tell. It got to the point that it was so crowded that it actually hurt to turn to one side and avoid running into someone--which, I might add, very few people other than me and Cynthia Vespia were that worried about. We did creep upstairs to get a few shots of what the book signing looked like from above. This might help you understand.

Exactly. So while I did fight through the crowds to get books by Stacey Kade, Brett Battles and Robert Gregory Browne, I didn't dare take out my camera.

We had a great afternoon all in all. By the time the booksigning was over at three, all of us were exhausted. But, by the same token, I think we were all very happy. We'd made lots of great new business acquaintances and friends, finally put some faces to the online screen names, and hopefully attracted a slew of new readers to Aspen Mountain Press. Considering that most of our free time was spent in the bar (go figure) we ended up with a lot of fabulous talks and some amazing photo ops which I am under obligation not to post.

Until the post after this, because there's one more thing to tell you about RT that is really important.

Remember when I was named a finalist in Bobbi Smith's Creative Writing Challenge in the advanced writers' workshop? I got to wear that badge all week. It's amazing how many people actually take the time to stop you and congratulate you when you have a big FINALIST tag between your boobs. I'm assuming it was the badge...

At any rate, Saturday was the last big party of the convention. We had a prom, hosted by Dorchester Publishing. But it was important to me for another reason entirely: the winner of the Creative Challenge was going to be announced at that party. All week, I'd pretty much talked myself into believing that one of the other two writers was going to win. Both of them were talented young writers from what I'd heard of them in class. Besides, my storyline for Deception Enters Stage Left is so damn complicated! How could anyone possibly judge that manuscript from the first chapter, which is all we submitted for the challenge? Although I knew that chapter was clean technically and set my story up perfectly, I was more than happy to just be named a finalist. I'd already reaped so many benefits from that finalist position that I didn't dare to dream I'd actually win the darn thing.

So the party starts--and Jade Lee started it by doing the dance to TRHPS's Time Warp and then followed up with It's Raining Men--and there's no sign of any awards ceremony. We're sitting at out table and Bobbi came up with a teddy bear and congratulated me for being a finalist. So I thought, Well, that's obvious enough. The bear's cute though. I told the others I just needed to wait until the winner was announced so I could congratulate her and in case we were all called up onstage.

Shannon decided to go have a cigarette so he leaves, and not even ten seconds later Bobbi stands up and heads over to the stage, where they give her the microphone. I couldn't help but laugh; we were sticking around for this announcement and my husband was going to miss the whole thing. I opened up the camera and tried to turn it on--the darn batteries were dead. So karma was already stomping the hint home--you didn't win you didn't win you didn't win...

Bobbi announced the third place finalist first. To my shock, it wasn't me. The award was between myself and a really lovely young lady named Jennifer who I kept running into on every escalator in the whole darn complex.

But the runner-up's name wasn't Celina. It was Jennifer. Sandra Hicks (the publisher of AMP) and I just looked at each other in shock. Then Bobbi said, "And the winner of the Creative Writing Challenge with her manuscript Deception Enters Stage Left is--"

I didn't hear my name. I heard Deception and I was up on my feet, screaming and putting my shaking hands to my face like every Miss USA winner I've ever made fun of in the past. That whole winning with dignity and grace crap?

Right out the window.

I managed to make it onto the stage without faceplanting--in and of itself a miracle considering I could barely walk--and Bobbi handed me this beautiful plaque with my name and the manuscript name on it (which meant that she'd known all along that I'd won) and then she handed me the microphone while she snapped a medal around my neck. Don't get excited: it was a little plastic medal, but who cares? It was cute. So while I'm juggling plaque, papers and microphone in my trembling hands, I lift the microphone to my lips and all I can think of to say is--

"Hi!"

Seriously Celina? Hi? You couldn't even have come out with a You like me; you really like me? Absolutely and stunningly humiliating. So when I got back to my table, all the AMP ladies hugged me and laughed at me for bawling like a little b*tch and then Bobbi came over and handed me the real bonus prize.

Her agent's phone number.

And right after all this went down, my husband meandered back into the room after his cigarette and I had to face the facts: not only had Shannon missed the whole damn thing, but I didn't even have a picture of it.

Que sera sera.

So there you have it. We left the party and went to the bar, where we downed two bottles of champagne and toasted each other. I held on to that teddy bear and plaque like they were the last life jacket on the Titanic and somehow we managed to get through the worst part of the convention.

Saying goodbye.

Total RT stats: Six days. I was given or bought over thirty books. I gave away two hundred water bottles and five hundred document stands. I sent out ten full manuscripts: four to agents and six to publishers. I ran three pairs of hose in two days. I won one major award. I got one agent's phone number. I was introduced to a minimum of twenty-five NYT bestselling authors. I created one hell of a promotional space and had one half of the best 4 by 8 foot long banner there.

And several thousand fantastic memories.

So there you have it: a month in the life. Now my world goes back to normal. I concentrate solely on writing and editing from here on out, shooting for my 8000 words a day and getting Aurora Regency launched while promoting my new releases and editing AMP manuscripts. I get to focus on my house and family a bit more while I continue to chase after my professional goals.And aside from a few more RT pictures, this month in the life is over. I'm going to take a couple of weeks off (ha! fat chance) and get back into my routine.

Hope you've enjoyed the ride.

A Month in the Life--Friday, April 30, 2010

2010-05-04T00:27:00.000-04:00

I only got an hour of sleep last night.

I was hurting too badly to get comfortable. I couldn't sleep anywhere--the bed, the couch, the chair, the floor. Nothing worked. I finally dozed off for an hour around four, but woke up a little bit after five and just decided to forget about it. My ankles had both rolled the day before and both were swollen and painful to the touch. The flats I'd worn for the last two days had literally bruised my feet, so I chucked and went with my boots. Yeah, I know--heels are a bad idea, but I needed the support for my ankles.

I had to keep telling myself that I only had to make it one more day. One more day of dressing up. One more day of a hectic schedule. One more day of being on my feet. One more day of pitches.

Just one more day.

After the regular stocking session on Promo Lane and the obligatory smirk beneath the banner in the bar, I limped slowly off to the area set aside for pitch sessions. The lady in charge of the pitch sessions is a lovely, sweet gal named Patti Lewis. A reviewer and writer and former bookstore owner, Patti and I would meet up either at the pitch sessions (where she jokingly called me her stalker) or in the smoking area with the other ten smokers at the convention. Every day, she was dressed beautifully and always with a coordinating hat. All week, she'd handled the pitch sessions with aplomb and a charming, professional manner.

When I got there on Friday morning, Patti was surrounded by a horde of eager writers. That wasn't new. What was rude was a girl who was haranguing Patti at the top of her voice and butting in as Patti tried to help other people.

In front of the editors and agents who were watching and waiting for their morning appointments.

I was horrified. Not only was this incredibly rude and bitchy, but it was so unprofessional that it literally made me cringe. When Patti had finally had enough (and that was MUCH longer than I would have lasted), she told the girl to go sit down and she'd call her when it was her turn.

So instead, naturally, the girl stood three feet away, crying and blubbering to all her little friends about how mean Patti was--again, right in front of the agents and editors. Organizing those pitch sessions was a thankless job, and Patti Lewis did it with such grace and ease that I was more than impressed; I was awed. And for some little beyotch to stand there and bawl about how mistreated she was really made me want to knock her right off her Payless two-for-the-price-of-one-plus-a-dollar 1992 clogs.

I'm not certain how successful the whiny one was, but I certainly was. I pitched to Tor, Grand Central publishing, Sourcebooks and Jim Mc Carthy of Dystel and Goderich and they all requested the manuscript. Jim (who'd lost a battle with curry chicken at lunch) and I (who lost a battle with two pairs of hose in twenty minutes and made it to the pitch bare-legged and bitchy) had a great side conversation about Andrew Lloyd Weber, which made that pitch session even more pleasant than it would have been. I was really quite surprised--these agents and editors were all kind, interested people, who genuinely wanted to like my book from the beginning and didn't scruple to say so. I like to think I am now a pro pitcher, because on this day I went into those meeting without even the slightest bit of fuss. It was fabulous.

Never be afraid to sit down and talk with an agent or editor. You'll miss out on an interesting conversation and some really fabulous people if you let your fear get in the way of the interpersonal interactions that can take place when two people are discussing something they both love--books.

Friday was also the Book Expo, where small press and e-published authors got to sign books for their fans. The final six water bottles (I'd hidden them) and the last fifteen document stands helped identify me to the readers, who stopped by to see me, got some cover flats, ordered some book downloads and generally had fun. There I am, talking to a young lady whose minor is classical mythology. We had a great conversation. All in all, the Expo was a lot of fun.

But then, after the Expo was over, everything hit me at once. Once I'd changed into comfortable clothes and replaced the boots with tennis shoes on my poor, abused feet, exhaustion and pain made me into a bona fide martyr. As a result, my husband took me home and I missed out on Heather Graham's Vampire Ball--which was the one social event I really wanted to attend. I iced down my ankles--now a lovely shade of green--and went to bed, actually falling asleep before midnight.

But I did derive a very important lesson from this day at RT--one I'm going to pass on to you. An aspiring writer has no room for "bitch" in her repertory. Treat everyone pleasantly (even the agent-who-shall-not-be-named who ditched me for my Friday morning appointment) and act like a professional. You never know who is watching--and who will remember you as the wannabe diva who acted like a jackass because a real lady of class and dignity didn't have the time to instantly gratify you.

Act like a grownup, FFS. Jesus--how hard is it to do?

A Month In The Life--Thursday, April 29, 2010

2010-05-03T23:55:00.000-04:00

So, I'd decided I was going to nail every available pitch session open on the schedule, right? Well, by gum--I did! I ended up with ten appointments with both agents and editors from major publishing houses. My Thursday and Friday were now booked to the point that there would only be a very few workshops I'd be able to attend. I was quite all right with that turn of events; I was here to promo and sell--and the promo part was going like gangbusters.

I'd come in to a completely empty promotional space yet again. When I walked up with my husband trailing along behind me with a box of water bottles on his shoulder, I was just in time to see some lady rip one of my glued down cover flats from my display.

"Excuse me," I said, removing said cover flat from her hand. "Obviously, since this is glued down, it needs to stay there."

The woman turned redder than my hair. "I'm sorry. I just really like it."

"Well, if you come to the book expo tomorrow, I'll sign this cover for you," I offered kindly. Then, not-quite-as-kindly, I added, "That way you won't have to steal it."

To her credit, she didn't linger while I glued the cover flat back onto the display and restocked the shelves. In my early naivete, I'd thought that 200 water bottles and 500 document stands along with Eden's 400 magnets for Conference Cupid would keep that space fully stocked. I was totally wrong. I didn't realize exactly how wrong I was until I ran into Jade Lee that afternoon. I'd given her a few document stands at the pre-con workshop and she told me that she was having to fight to keep them--that everybody wanted them.

Between my promotional freebies and the banner (also known as That-which-shall=be-always-bolded), my name was literally all over the place. I was wearing the big tag on my badge that read FINALIST from Bobbi Smith's writing challenge, which led a lot of people (morticians especially) to stare at my chest like I'd grown a third boob. That being said, the FINALIST tag was invaluable to me during my pitch sessions that day. It was an automatic indication that I wrote well enough at least to impress Bobbi Smith, and the agents and editors took notice. I pitched to Ellora's Cave, Harlequin and Miriam Kriss of Irene Goodman. I ptiched Lucienne Diver of The Knight Agency on the go, trotting alongside her while she went to the convenience store. I only had a chance to tell Ethan Ellenberg my pitch after the Agent's Panel workshop--and all five requested manuscripts. The first two or three pitches were rambling and confusing IMO--I hadn't quite nailed down the technique yet. By the end of the day, however, I had one hell of a tagline that paid off in huge dividends: Something Wicked This Way Comes meets contemporary American theatre.

That night, we met up with Brett, Robert, and James (the three writers from the night before) as well as my husband. Escorted by FOUR men, which no other table in the party could lay claim to, we went to the Fairy Ball. I wasn't in costume, althought I did dress nicely and wore one of the Carnival masks my daughter and I had made the week before--claiming that I was going as the fat, flightless fairy.

Yep. I was the dodo of the Faerie Ball.

The event was beautiful and the food was good. The entire event was marred only by the volunteers who were serving as the seating Gestapo, one of whom told me that my approaching back surgery "wasn't her problem" when I meekly asked if I could just go in and sit just inside the door. Other than Frau Goebbels, the evening was lovely and we came away with a lot of fantastic books. I ended up with several books by CT Adams and Cathy Clamp--which made me very happy as Cathy is a regular at Absolute Write.

One last quick trip to the once-again-empty promo lane spot, and I hobbled to the car--literally. My physician's comment that "There's no way you'll make it all week" was starting to look like a potential prophecy.

A Month In The Life--Wednesday, April 28, 2010

2010-05-03T23:35:00.000-04:00

Ah...the first full day of the RT convention!

I was excited for lots of reasons. First off, the AMP ladies got in yesterday for the most part. It was really great to meet my EIC, Sandra Hicks, for the first time--and Laura Baumbach, who is the EIC of MLR Press and a legend as far as I'm concerned. But I also got to meet some of the writers I edit. LB Gregg is adorable--little and sassy and spunky and shoes I would quite frankly kill for. Helen Hardt is tall and elegant and drop dead gorgeous; Sam Cheever has the market cornered on cute and manages to do more things at one time than I do without looking like a spaz--like I do. Lizzie T. Leaf took one look at me and instantly adopted me, I think. Instantly, our relationship went from editor-writer to younger sister-older sister. She told me what to do all week and I loved it. Then, my husband went to pick Cynthia Vespia up at the airport this morning--she's staying with us in Lancaster.

The first thing I did this morning was head over to my spot on promotional lane. Last night, I went to set it up and realized that we'd left the cover flats at home. You know: the things with my names on them? Otherwise, all I had was a shelving unit with some Carnival masks hung on a board covered with fabric. I ended up putting a few water bottles and document stands on the shelves, thinking I'd come back this morning and fill it all up.

Much to my surprise, it was totally empty this morning. Nary a bottle or document stand to be found. So, I decorated the space as I'd originally intended and stepped back to take a look.

No one else on Promo Lane had anything like I did. Most of the other writers were giving away bookmarks in baskets. So when this hit the convention:

--it got a lot of attention. It also stayed fairly empty throughout the week, even to the point where people would grab them out of my hands while I was trying to restock. Great fun overall, though--by the end of the convention I'd had my promo items, bookmarks from Lizzie, magnets from Eden Elgabri, flyers from Cynthia Vespia all on my promotion spot and every single darn thing was GONE. We amused ourselves by wondering how many authors would go vertical next year with raspberry colored water bottles and red document stands in LA next year, and then by coming up with increasingly more outrageous ideas for what I'll do. I'm thinking lights and fountains.

After all--it is LA.

I hit a couple of workshops on Wednesday afternoon, but the most important things I had to do were agent/editor appointments. I had two scheduled for Wednesday afternoon and I was nervous about pitching to them. I wasn't one hundred percent sure of what I was doing, so I took the time after lunch to narrow down and perfect my verbal pitch, implementing the information I'd learned the day before from the writers' panel at the pre-con workshop about pitches. So when time arrived to pitch I was ready.

And I was stood up. TWICE. Two totally different people from entirely different companies pulled no-call, no-shows for their appointments. I found out later that the no-call no-shows were completely beyond their control, but that didn't help matters at the time. I was pissed, and in my opinion, rightfully pissed and that was the state of my mind all the way through until the opening night party.

The first party was Ellora Cave's tenth birthday party and, as you can imagine, it was a little bit on the wild side. We hung out there for a little while and then returned to the bar, where we could drink and gaze upon the beauty that was the banner--the book covers LB and I had put on that banner that now every drunk at the convention was staring at. Those drunks (and not so drunks) were in turn stared at by the morticians' convention that was sharing top billing with Romantic Times. I thought it was about the funniest thing I'd ever heard of: romance writers and funeral directors? How funny!

I continued to think so until the next night. More on that later.

At any rate, I'd decided that I was going to nail down every single free spot on the pitch session schedule the next morning. The workshops were all fine and good, but I was at RT to pitch my manuscript and that had to take priority. Back in the bar, we befriended a trio of male writers: Brett Battles, James Scott Bell and Robert Gregory Browne.

After a long evening of writer talk and quite a few beers, we all went our separate ways.

In Case You're Wondering...

2010-04-30T01:42:00.000-04:00

No, I haven't forgotten you. And, in case you're saying, "HEY! Where's Warding the Covenants???" I'll confess that the convention has been so hectic and busy that the release has been delayed for a few days. Just a few. :)

I'll update you with more information ASAP--look for catch up posts tomorrow!

Take a Gander at our Banner!

2010-04-27T13:19:00.000-04:00

Yippee!

As you know, fellow AMP author LB Gregg and I went in on a banner for the RT Convention. Well, got out of the morning session and our banner is hanging in the bar! Check it out:

More than a little stoked. The banner looks awesome and any time you have a banner in the bar at a writers/readers' convention it's got to be a good thing!

The morning session was awesome. Jade Lee was back for more character development, while Linnea Sinclair and Stacey Kade taught a fantastic workshop on staying inspired that was a lot of fun and very beneficial. Bobbi and Judi gave a great lecture (and test) on self-editing that gave me a really good glimpse into what I should be looking for as both a writer and an editor in the manuscripts I'm working on.

The majority of the AMP writers are on their way, and I'll be meeting them this afternoon and still trying to figure out this darn promotional lane stuff. *sigh* But, this afternoon are the editor/agent panels in this workshop and I'm really looking forward to that.

Time for one more smoke (hopefully without rolling my ankle and falling on my ass like I did earlier) and then back to the workshop! Yippee!

Tuesday, April 27, 2010--Second Day of RT

2010-04-27T09:29:00.000-04:00

Got a FANTASTIC new review yesterday for Mythos 1: Bride of Death from Siren Book Reviews. The reviewer must have REALLY liked it. Check this out:

Forget everything you ever thought you knew about Hades, and dive into the Underworld, with the refreshed eyes of a virginal maiden goddess. Loose yourself in Celina Summers captivating tale of the Bride of Death.

Celina's vivid descriptions of the gods, their duties and the realms they rule, will give you a crash course in Greek Mythology, leaving you begging for more.

Wow.

She gave BOD four and a half out of five siren stones (stars, hearts, whatever) and finished up by saying this:

Hades' courtship of Persephone is romantic, even as the connection they share is overflowing with passion. The purity of his feelings for her, and her devotion to him remain profound even until the very end of the book.

Kudos to Aspen Mountain Press for the beautiful cover and near perfect editing, as it further enables the reader's enjoyment of Mythos: Bride of Death. I highly recommend this book and will come back to it again and again as a favourite read.

Wow, thanks! You can read the entire review here.

More from RT later! I'm back in class and Jade Lee is here again. I need to listen. :)

Monday, April 26, 2010--First Day of RT

2010-04-27T09:24:00.000-04:00

First off, I'm an idiot. I took my camera and didn't take a single damn picture. Mea culpa.

I opted to take Bobbi Smith's two-day pre-convention workshop for Advanced Writers. First off, let me say that Bobbi is a lovely, lovely lady. She is personable and genuinely interested in the writers in her class. The entire day was enjoyable and stimulating and well worth the money.

Throughout the day, there are mini-workshops that deal with specific facets of romance writing. And while they have all been helpful, for me the high point of the day was Jade Lee's workshop on characterization. Jade is an expressive firecracker of a lady and has a sense of humor I really respond to--sarcastic and knee-slapping hysterical. Her description of how they staged a clinch cover was hysterical. Barbells and a crate become a drawing room and an exercise bench turned into a chaise lounge for a pair of models posing for the photographer. Absolutely. Hysterical. She also made a comment about cougars in turtlenecks.

I am a cougar; I was wearing a turtleneck.

No rest for the weary.

I could watch her for hours, but it didn't take long for me to get sucked into her presentation. She asked us all to assign our hero/heroine three adjectives and then assign them an elemental theme based on those adjectives. She loved my heroine; hated my hero.

Totally fair, by the way. I was getting a series of dramatic text messages from my daughter who was throwing a tantrum over something stupid, so I copped out and picked adjectives for him like 'engimatic.' Duh. Seriously, Celina? You paid a hundred and twenty-five bucks to describe your hero as 'enigmatic?'
I am so glad I took this workshop. THIS is exactly what I needed to hear, not ‘oh Celina that’s so great!’ And I won a prize for being brave enough to go first and not crying like a little bitch which was what I first wanted to do when she critiqued my hero adjectives. Again, keep it simple, stupid. If the story and the characters are so damn complicated that you have trouble explaining them in a workshop setting, how in the hell are you going to explain them in a pitch?
I think I’ve just connected the dots on Terella. Damn! The problem with Jade's workshop is that the concept is so simple it's brilliant, and it always pisses me off to learn a concept from someone else that I should have thought of myself. Bottom line--lovely lady, fantastic workshop, great experience.

And I won a book! Always a great thing.

At any rate, between Jade and Bobbi, I learned a lot of new approaches to my work. A lot of the information I gleaned from the first day of workshops will be better employed by me as an editor than as a writer.

After we were done for the day, several of us went to the big bar on the second floor (I should have capitalized it; the name of the big bar is the Big Bar--no lie! Ohio creativity at work...) for a few glasses of wine. I spent a pleasant hour talking with a fantastic lady and writer from Florida named Linda--and yes, I'm a big enough idiot I forgot to get her last name. I'll rectify that today and provide pictures too. We hashed over the workshop, e-publishing, and the twists and turns of the erotica genre before I went home. I laid down on the couch at seven...

...and woke up this morning at seven. Everything I needed to get done, I didn't. So now you're caught up. The rest of the week is all RT--and look for several posts a day.

A Month In The Life--The Weekend Before RT

2010-04-27T08:55:00.000-04:00

Yep. One blog entry should cover this--more promo work, playing with the baby, and sinus infection. Naturally. Stay tuned--the first RT post is coming up.

A Month in the Life--Thursday, April 22, 2010

2010-04-26T01:42:00.000-04:00

Can I just mention the absolute drudgery of burning CDs?

It is a long, drawn out, hellish procedure and it takes even longer to burn an image onto the CD itself than it does the text files. Amazing. At any rate, I need CDs of my own work (The Reckoning of Asphodel, Metamorphosis and Mythos 1: Bride of Death), excerpts from the Cougar Club stories and excerpts from the Aurora Regency books.

I started this morning at 7:30 and worked until midnight and all I did was burn images onto CDs. No text; no books; no excerpts--just the name of each CD and what was on it. Sixteen plus hours of mind-numbing work and still more to do tomorrow. Ah...such is life.

A Month In The Life--Wednesday, April 21, 2010

2010-04-23T22:58:00.000-04:00

Guess what I've got???!?!?!?

Holy hell! Yes I do! I have cover art for Mythos 2: Daughter of the Sea!

I totally love this cover.

Audrey and I worked for about eight hours straight today--not counting baby play breaks, of course--and the TO DO list is shrinking steadily. We walked to the fabric store and picked up more supplies, and then spent a fun afternoon watching the baby in her bouncer and working on my display.

A great day. Productive too.

A Month in the Life--April 20, 2010

2010-04-23T22:54:00.000-04:00

My day started at seven--a little late for me, but I'd been up until five am the night before. To start off with, I spent a lot of time this morning involved with e-mails and editing. Despite my resolve not to edit until after the convention, I neglected to realize that I needed to edit the excerpts for the Aurora promotional CDs. So that took a couple of hours, then I had to lay the documents for the CD out again. Once that was done, though, I went to work on the house. Audrey would be here at about five.

Funny, isn't it? I called Audrey for help because my back was fucked up and then proceeded to fuck it up more getting the house clean for her stay here with the baby--who promptly messed the house right back up. I started in the guest bedroom.

I've been getting ready for Cynthia Vespia to come stay with me during the convention. So, I went ahead and decked out the guest room with new linens and things and hadn't planned on putting them out until right before she got here. Well, naturally, that didn't work out quite as I planned. So I put on the new bed linens (gorgeous) and dusted and scrubbed and cleaned. When, at last, the guest bedroom was *perfect* I went into the living room, fully intending to get some promotional work done.

That lasted five minutes. Two hours later, the living room was immaculate and I went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

An hour and a half later, including a lovely half-hour span on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor, I had to go to the restroom.

Well, I'd bought a new shower curtain too. I couldn't very well hang it unless I cleaned the rest of the bathroom, right?

It was now four-thirty. I took a broom to the hallway and was just sweeping the last of the debris into the dustpan when the door opened and here came Audrey and the baby!

Guess what I did the rest of the day?

Yep. Exactly. Save for the one-time pristine condition of my now-wrecked house, I accomplished absolutely nothing. I'd call it a wasted day, but hell--now my baby is here with her baby. Overall, then, it was a great day.

A Month in the Life--Monday, April 19, 2010

2010-04-23T22:41:00.000-04:00

My daughter Audrey's twenty-second birthday!

Today was also the day I came to a momentous decision. I will not write or edit anything else until after the Romantic Times convention.

Why, you may ask?

Because I can't.

There's no way I can get all this done. I have to be able to walk (or at least sit up) for the convention next week. I also have to have all my materials done and looking professional before I go, otherwise this has all been a waste of time and energy. Now, I'm not one to perpetuate exercises in futility, but it still makes me feel kind of inadequate that I can't get all this done on my own.

It was hard, admitting that I don't have a big *S* on my spandex superhero suit. I am unaccustomed to confessing my humanity. But, after an hour of staring helplessly at the pile of material and glitter and feathers and sequins and jewels and masks and copies of my book covers on photo paper waiting to be cut and blank CDs and jewel cases and four packing boxes of water bottles and one of magnets and one of document stands--all the time hoping desperately that my pain pill would kick in so I could get up off the couch, common sense won out over ego.

I called my daughter--on her birthday--and asked her to come up and bail me out. She's an artist.

Yeah, I'm not entirely stupid.

She gets here tomorrow, so I spent the rest of the day putting together text documents for the promotional CDs and cleaning the house. We're going to give Audrey a surprise birthday party when she gets here with cake and candles and presents because she didn't have much a a birthday at her house. Then, when she does get here, we can work on these things together.

There's another fringe benefit, of course. Audrey will be bringing her baby who turns six months old tomorrow. So on breaks, I'll get to play with Aurora! Yay!

No word count. Three Aurora Regency CD files, four Cougar Club CD files, the preliminary layout for the Aurora Regency brochure--all are done.