Disorderly Content

I have a lot of friends in the publishing world. Granted, most of these friends are Facebook kinds of friends, also known as "friends" or, if you prefer, casual acquaintances. But I do know some of them in the real world, which we tech savvy types sometimes refer to as meatspace cuz it sounds so cool and freaky. Or at least it did several years back when I last had contact with that real world. But I digress. The point is that I have actually met some of these people, and even touched some of them, but only in appropriate places and appropriate ways. So no matter what you heard, it's probably not true. Dammit.

Anyway, it's because of those friends (or, if you prefer, "friends"), that I heard all about how Harlequin Books came up with this scheme to separate would-be writers (or, if you prefer, "writers") from their money by hooking them up with a vanity publisher and a set of expensive services that will in theory turn their epic pile of pages into something that looks like but isn't really a book. Let's call it a "book", to distinguish it from actual books that come from actual publishers and end up in actual bookstores.

So writers everywhere (the ones without the air quotes) were shocked and horrified and generally angry, and their various associations (the Romance Writers of America (RWA), Mystery Writers of America (MWA) and Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA; I guess fantasy doesn't get its own F) all decided that Harlequin was no longer a proper publisher and wouldn't get to play their reindeer games any more. And I, being merely a friend of some of these folks and a "friend" of some others, got just as shocked and horrified and angry, because that's what I do. (A model acquaintance of mine believes that's a bad thing. She told me so. Quite loudly and at length.)

But this isn't about me, or at least it's no more about me than anything else I write. Which, come to think of it, is all about me, at least indirectly. But never mind about that. I mention all this to a prelude which points out with wit and humor just why everyone was so pissed at Harlequin. Read this and see if you agree. Oh, and bask in the glow of my first actual blog post in ages. Somehow I don't think I could fit this whatever-it-is into 140 characters. You of course may wish otherwise.

Looks like my writer friend Barry's fixation on political bloggers is starting to pay off. First, Hilzoy of Obsidian Wings noted the use of her and her blog's name in his latest book, Fault Line. Then yesterday, Glenn Greenwald noted the plethora of progressive blogs and bloggers in the book. And today, Barry is interviewed in Harper's by Scott Horton, who gives his name to yet another character. I guess this is what they call nontraditional marketing.

Update 03/31: And the hits keep on coming. Add Andrew Sullivan to the list.

And that name is redshirt. I have been redshirted. The redshirter in question is my friend Barry Eisler, whose new novel Fault Line arrives in bookstores today, complete with the aforementioned reshirting. Weep for me...

I was shocked and saddened to read of the death of Robert Asprin. I discovered Mr. Asprin quite by accident, via a slim specialty press volume with the punny title of Another Fine Myth. I like punny titles, you understand, and I liked the book, a very funny fantasy about a magician's apprentice who has a surprising encounter with a demon. AFM was followed by more Myth books, some very good, some less good, some... well... let's just say I kept buying and reading them in hope they'd get better. And even when they didn't, I still enjoyed them for what they once were and might again be. Except now they won't, because he's gone. And to misquote John Rhys-Davies in Raiders of the Lost Ark, Bob, already I am mything you.

You know, I'm thinking the publisher might have wanted to, you know, read the book before they printed it.

...it probably means the joke's on you. It takes a special talent to make you feel both amused and not entirely sure that you're supposed to feel that way. Exhibit A: an Amazon reviewer called Caldinoro, who has an interesting slant on the books he discusses. If you want a laugh, read a few. Then go to this mailing by blogger Chris Locke and enjoy his discovery, his shock and disdain and then his delight in Caldinoro's take on literature both great and not nearly so great.

(Found on Joho the Blog.)

I just finished The Book, a mere 36 hours after purchasing my copy at the Palo Alto Borders. I might have savored it, made it last, but my concern about accidentally reading a spoiler kept me going. Well, mission accomplished. And in case you haven't reached the finish line, I won't say anything more than that it was a fitting end to the series, and that I'm glad I was along for the ride.

I just spent the weekend at Thrillerfest, the second annual conference of the International Thriller Writers. What in the world was I doing at an event for writers? Blame my friend Barry; he thought it would be fun, educational and possibly even lucrative. It was certainly the first, and definitely the second; we'll have to see about the third. But, interestingly enough, I took to it in a way I haven't done with tech conferences since I don't know when. I actually went to almost as many sessions as time allowed.

Some were better than others, as you would expect. The panel on sex in thrillers was particularly memorable, not just for the obvious reason or that they plied us with alcohol (there was some challenge to see which panelist could get a champagne cork to go the farthest), but also because everybody was so darn articulate and outrageous. But the comic thriller panel may just have been my favorite. One friend was surprised I went there instead of to the technology panel. That just proves she doesn't really know me at all.

Afterward I bought books by two of the panelists. The one I started this evening is called The Rabbit Factory and is by a former screenwriter named Marshall Karp. It's a cop story about a murder in a Disneyland-wannabe. And I think I knew before I finished chapter one that I was gonna enjoy the ride. Recommended after twelve chapters, whatever happens from here on out.

Oh, and while I was disassembling that phone book of a catalogue (and how long before nobody knows what a phone book is?) in my previous post, I was trying not to destroy that other publication I could see wound around inside. I had a feeling it was my new copy of Entertainment Weekly. And I wanted it to survive, particularly because it might have a review of Barry Eisler's new John Rain thriller. Which it did, and which I've already posted on his brand new web forum. Which, if you're a fan, you might want to peruse. I'm a sort of moderator there, not that I've ever been accused of moderation before.

My friend Barry Eisler has his latest John Rain thriller coming out in just three weeks from this very day. (I'd ask, "Very what day?", except that I've used that joke a few times before.) Which means he'll be off on another whirlwind book tour, on the premise that the author is the best advertising for the work. Which isn't always the case, although this time it is. Anyway, the tour starts on May 22nd (I told you it was three weeks from today, didn't I?) at Kepler's in Menlo Park. If you're into thrillers, or just want to hear someone who reads very, very well, stop by. Other dates and places will be listed on Barry's MySpace page and (although not at this writing) on his website.

I've written before about the Tubey's Kids auctions over at Television Without Pity, how the winner gets a snarky recap written for an episode of their favorite show, and how we Farscape fans kept coming back to win auction after auction. We became so dominant that the fine folk at TWoP decided to give us recaps of the whole series starting this summer, presumably so we'd let somebody else have a shot at winning.

Anyway, we had some money left over from the last auction that was looking for a home. And DeAnn, TV goddess and organizer of our auction activities, had the idea of making a donation in the name of each of the TWoP recappers. Which is when we found out about the Dewey Donation System, a drive to collect books and other donations for the libraries in Harrison County, Louisiana that were hit so hard by last year's hurricanes. So we gave. And gave. And then I gave. And gave again. And I hope you'll think about giving as well. The thought of a library without books is just too sad.

Speaking of Kepler's, and of my author friend, we're now just two weeks away from the release of my friend Barry's latest John Rain thriller. I have my copy already, one of the few benefits of the startup disaster where we met. Anyway, that means I can say with confidence that The Last Assassin is exciting and fast paced, with a few revelations that took me completely by surprise and will likely do the same for you.

Barry will be reading from the new book on Thursday, June 1st at 7:30. If you haven't heard him speak, you're missing out. Kepler's calendar of author appearances is available on their website.

Dan Gillmor's blog (which is, not exactly coincidentally, named Dan Gillmor's blog) has news that Kepler's bookstore in Menlo Park has closed its doors. I know that compared to the horrors in Iraq and New Orleans, the loss of an independent bookseller isn't even a blip on the radar. So why does it hurt so much? Could it be because they've been so supportive of my friend Barry, hosting readings of each of his books? Or is it because it's one more sign of the increasing corporatization of America? Or because browsing there was a guarantee of finding something I'd love but would never think to look for?

Life just got a little more gray around here.

Update 10/10: It's alive!!!. I'd heard mutterings about a Kepler's revival, and now it's been confirmed. Some Silicon Valley VCs have gotten involved, worked out a business plan and have brought our very favorite independent bookstore back from the dead. A little early, I'd say; this would have been so much more appropriate three weeks from now. But better early than never, as they always say.

(They don't? It's late, not early? I guess that does make more sense, now that you mention it.)

Today I made a change I never expected to make: I cancelled my newspaper subscription. Not because I don't enjoy the Murky News. And not because there aren't valuable aspects to getting a daily paper. But because of the raw incompetence of their delivery organization.

Today I returned from a short holiday in San Diego. And discovered, for the third time in as many weeks, that my stop order had been ignored. Well, not exactly ignored; that would have been too obvious. No, they stopped delivering the day after I put in the request. And they didn't deliver one the day I left or on my first full day away. But then for some reason they decided to start dropping off a paper again yesterday.

Which I grant isn't as bad as last time, when the stack was half a foot tall. But I would prefer that my neighbors and others not have such an obvious indicator of my non-presence. So I guess I'll learn to get my news from the Web like everyone else around here.

I just finished reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. No, don't worry; I wouldn't dream of giving anything away. I just wanted to share a thought that came to me as Ms. Rowling was filling in some of the details of He Who Should Not Be Named's early years and formative experiences: that I believed in HWSNBN in a way I never did that other Dark Lord, the one all those movies were about. I wonder what would have happened if George Lucas had hired J.K. Rowling or somebody like her to help with the script. Imagine a plot that involved believable motivations. And non-cringeworthy dialogue. Hey, as long as we're imagining, maybe he could have gone on to find somebody who actually knows how to direct actors. Wow! Just think of the possibilities!

With all the macro pictures I've been taking of flowers and other plantlike substances, it finally dawned on me that there might be some small value in actually knowing what the heck is in those pictures. Despite my parents' best efforts, not to mention those of my Scoutmaster, I have virtually no knowledge where flora are concerned.

So, not much wiser after a couple of visits to local nurseries, I decided to head to my local Borders for a good book, one with lots and lots of pictures. And among the books on houseplants and wildflowers, I found a surprising number of volumes on the cultivation of another kind of plant, one that might falls somewhere between hobby gardening and a cash crop. I refer of course to cannabis, that horror of right-thinking Americans everywhere. Except maybe in California, where it falls under the heading of compassionate medical analgesic. Or maybe Free Enterprise. Or both.

As I blogged last week, last night my friend Barry Eisler read successfully from his latest thriller. I should hasten to say that he was successful not because he got the words right and in roughly the right places, although that's true; the success came from the reaction of the overflow crowd to his reading and the Q&A that followed. For which I'm grateful, having talked a few friends into coming to said event. The last thing I want is to have him crash and burn when I've given him such a buildup. Not that such a thing is likely; Barry's as good a speaker as he is a writer.

The Kepler's reading was the first stop on a tour around the country. Check his site for locations and dates. Oh, and if you do make it to one of his appearances, tell him Hank sent you. I'm still trying to push him into succumbing to the power of the blog...

Update 06/24: Here are second and third opinions of the event, courtesy of my blogger friends. Just in case you doubt my objectivity in such matters.

They're predicting rain for the end of the week. But that has nothing to do with the title of this entry, which is about a lunch get together with friends from one of my less successful employment situations. One of the attendees was my friend Barry, author of the highly successful John Rain thriller series. And at lunch I got my copy of Killing Rain, the soon-to-be-released fourth Rain book. If you like taut novels with morally ambiguous characters, exotic mostly-Asian locales, an eye for detail and a whole lot of attitude, I'm betting you'll like them. And if you happen to be around Menlo Park, California at 7:30PM on June 23rd, stop by Kepler's Books for a reading and signing. Barry does both exceedingly well. And I'm not just saying that because I get my copies for free.

That's the subtitle of a book called The Tipping Point. I picked it up at Borders a couple of days ago; something about the cover caught my attention, although I can't say what it is. And I opened it at random, started reading and got caught up in an anecdote about mavens, people who become so expert on a topic that they become evangelists on the subject. Having a little of that in my own makeup, I bought the book and inhaled its contents over the next couple of days.

The Tipping Point attempts to explain a range of social phenomena, from disease vectors to fashion trends to societal issues like teenage smoking. And not just explain them, but to break them down in ways that offer approaches to dealing with them. Along the way, it presents psychological studies that demonstrate how much of what we know (or at least what I know) is wrong and why we believe otherwise. It's part pop psychology, part business book, part cultural history.

It's been ages since I've read anything that got me thinking so hard about so many subjects. If you haven't heard about it, you really ought to pick up a copy. And if you've already read it, why in the world didn't you tell me about it sooner?

I needed a good laugh right about now. Working at a startup can be positively grim if you don't have a well developed sense of the absurd.

But then stuff like this comes along: hacked versions of Harlequin (or at least Harlequinesque) romances. Brilliant stuff like "I Married a Sissy-Boy" and "The Legend of the Totally Lost Mountie". Hey, Longmire, d'you think you could do some pulp thrillers or some SF next?

(Another shoutout to Boing Boing.)

Well, he will if nap time doesn't interfere. From Fox comes word that Family Guy: Stewie's Guide to World Domination will be taking over bookstores everywhere on April 26th. Of all the Griffins, Stewie is certainly the most articulate, not to mention unprincipled.

And to think that Fox had so little faith in the series that they cancelled it. Power of the fans, I guess.