Authors as Rock Stars

There is an interesting article in the Christian Science Monitor today, called "Why book tours are passé". It claims the traditional promotional book tour by an author is going the way of the dinosaur, partially because of technology.

"…in the past five years or so, observers say the traditional author tour has been in decline: Fewer writers are being sent out, and those who do tour make fewer stops. Among the many reasons for this shift are marketing tools that have made it possible to orchestrate a virtual encounter, without the hassle or expense of travel. Publishers and authors are now touting books through podcasts, film tours, blog tours, book videos, and book trailers."

The article goes on to point out the advantages of the technological 'book tour', and sums up the feeling as "Each is a small experiment, an incremental move, as the publishing industry has begun to embrace the Internet and other new media. It's hard not to wonder, though, whether their cumulative effect will one day render the face-to-face bookstore meeting between writer and reader obsolete."

I hope not.

I like to meet writers face to face, to have a brief contact with the person whose writing I admire, whose vision I envy, who I may hope to emulate one day. I want to know there is a living, breathing person behind the cardboard covers of a book I respect.

I understand this video makeover might be what authors want, no traveling, no hordes of wide eyed fans ready to ask potentially embarrassing questions. "Some authors are really engaging and some authors, frankly, are not," says Dave Weich, marketing director of Powell's Books. Video offers a way around that. "There's a lot of editing that takes place," admits Sue Fleming, vice president of online marketing at Simon & Schuster. "We can forgive a certain lack of mediagenic-ness."

I've seen the look in the eyes of kids meeting an author at our local library. A video clip is just not the same. Television, YouTube, the Internet, they're all one step removed from reality. "podcasts, film tours, blog tours, book videos, and book trailers" are fine, but they will be a carefully packaged image that the publisher wants us to see. Kids and others will never learn that the author has a dog just like theirs, that he/she read comics under the table at school or always wore mismatched socks on Fridays. All the things that make the author human, and therefore accessible to other humans will be stripped away and replaced with a slick marketing persona. Authors will become about as real as the latest presentation of Beowulf. Slightly waxy around the edges, and too perfect to be real.

"The videos have another advantage: They eliminate the humiliation for an author of showing up at a bookstore event only to find the place empty." Sure, I can see that. No one wants to have their ego resized, to be reminded they aren't the most important person in the world. The business wants guarantees, and nothing is as fickle as a book buyer on a sunny day.

Of course, one of the real reasons is contained in the second paragraph of the article. "marketing tools that have made it possible to orchestrate a virtual encounter, without the hassle or expense of travel."

It'll be cheaper.

"These days, a book tour by a well-known author usually travels to just a handful of cities. Chances are, even the most ambitious promotional treks won't reach a small bookstore in, say, Dubuque, Iowa. For that reason, those involved with online marketing suggest that virtual events are actually reaching people who wouldn't otherwise come into contact with big-name authors."

I submit most people wouldn't come in contact with 'big-name authors' anyhow. If their first statement is true, "a book tour by a well-known author usually travels to just a handful of cities", I'm betting it's the same cities year after year. Same fans. Self-fulfilling prophecy.
"It's an interesting paradigm," says Mr. Weich of Powell's Books. "People tend to ask, 'Isn't this just going to replace the author tour?' But most places in America don't get author tours, at least of [McEwan and Halberstam's] caliber."

Since most places don't get them anyways, we should do away with them. Hmm. Interesting logic. Weich goes on to say, "In a way, the author tour has suffered from its monopolist role in book promotion," says Weich. "It's a really tired format." and "He believes competition from other types of marketing may encourage the book tour to be more imaginative, to reinvent itself."

Hey, I'm all for reinvention, and new ideas. Just don't throw the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak.

"Already, publishers are thinking more strategically. Morgan Entrekin… arranged for the authors of "Halsey's Typhoon," a nonfiction account of a treacherous World War II Navy mission, to visit naval bases and shipmate reunions. It was an author tour, but aimed at a niche audience." Who were probably aware of the book already. I thought the idea was to garner new readers and increase readership and the fan base for an author? 'Who is your target group?' takes on a different connotation. We wouldn't want people to step outside their comfy zone and try something different. Publishers want a sure thing, so why wouldn't readers?

They do, but luckily, people also retain the desire to be surprised, to be intrigued, to want something new and different, or else we wouldn't need new authors - the same 10 would suffice. Readers outgrow an author, reading tastes mature, and interests change. I don't want a slick video presentation of my favorite authors; I want to see him/her, warts and all. How can I connect with the wax effigies on the screen? We're bombarded with advertising 24/7; I'd hate to see writers blend into the cataphony. I think the reader-writer relationship is a symbiotic one, and altering the balance means a loss of that all important human connection.

Of course, your mileage may vary. My experience is limited to poetry readings, which still retain magic moments of reading a line, a stanza, and looking up to see heads nodding in agreement, or the look on the face of an audience member, the smile that says "I'm with you in the moment, we are two of a kind. We have a connection."

So, authors out there, clue me in. Book tours, yea or nay? Multimedia, the wave of the future, or one piece of a broad marketing spectrum? Author, real, or industry imagined?

A Thanksgiving Poem

Yeah, it's a little late. So sue me, or take away my poetic license. Or you can complain to Anonymous. It's his fault, after all. He instigated this little childhood conspiracy. I was too innocent to dream up such an evil plot. Honest.



The First Thanksgiving


In 1972 we made my dad eat turkey for the first time.
Ever.

From 1960-1971 we ate lasagna and sausage for
Thanksgiving.

In late 1970 my brother and I began to plot the holiday dinner menu—
with no success.

At six months old, my mother said I ate ravioli instead of
baby food.

In 1938 my great-grandmother chopped the heads off live chickens.
My father was six years old.

Man landed on the moon in 1969, I stayed up late to watch.
Anything was possible.

From 1965-1973 I was only vaguely aware there was a war.
Mom didn't let me watch the news.

From first to fifth grade I drank tea after school with my grandmother
at least once a week.

In sixth grade I was an Indian for the Thanksgiving play
because I had black hair.

Nobody in our family had a birthday in November.
Mine was 15 days before Christmas.

My other grandmother always fixed turkey/mashed potatoes/pumpkin pie.
It was our second dinner of the day.

In early November of that year my brother and I discovered
guilt trips.

In 1972 we made my dad eat turkey for the first time.
Ever.

Washing My Blues Away

I think the gnomes stole some color from my felting project. I knitted a bag, it had lovely shades of blues and pinks- Exhibit A

Then I machine felted it and all the color faded into Exhibit B, the Gnome-napped version.

Gnomes, I’m telling you.

Then again, it was a ball of wool yarn from my stash that I am foggy on the origins of. All I know is it was 100% wool, I started a pair of socks with it, didn’t like them, frogged the yarn to oblivion, then decided to felt the thing into a bag. I'm really glad they didn't continue on to be faded out socks.

What? Did I test a swatch to see what would happen? Uh… no. Why would I do that? To know what would happen in the wash, you say? Hmm, you may have a point there. Ah well, I wasn’t happy with the yarn anyhow.

Then there was this bag, Exhibit C,

Knit with Caron Felt-It in Adobe color.

It behaved exactly like it was supposed to. Of course it felted a bit smaller than it should have, probably because someone got caught up reading a book leaning on the washing machine and let the bag agitate a might too long… It still works as a large clutch. The bag is about 14 inches by 8 inches. I made some i-cord out of sock yarn for a handle, it doesn’t match, but stuff like that never bothers me. I knit fraternal socks, sometimes distant cousin socks, and still wear them.

I went through my polymer clay buttons and lined up some possibilites. Of course, I may have to make one just for the bag, because in the 200+ buttons I have, I can't find one I really like. (Yes, I make buttons for handknits. Because I don't have enough hobbies) Flimsy excuse to play with polymer clay, but I'll take it. Ignore the lopsidedness, they really are round - unless they were square- I was lazy and put the buttons on the scanner instead of making a paper tent and photographing them properly, so I tried to clean them up in Photoshop and just chewed along the edges. But you get the idea. At least I wasn't standing on a bucket like I did to photograph the bags. The trials of being short...

These are the prime button candidates until I make more.

So what was the Bag pattern? Uh, the Wing-It pattern. You know, knit until it looks right, jury-rig the sides and sew the whole thing together. I measure if held at gun point; otherwise I just eyeball the whole thing. I guess that makes me a process knitter, (or an ADD process knitter). I can make something following pattern directions once, after that, well, wouldn’t this part look better longer? And what if I change this piece and swap these out…

I cook like that too. As several of my favorite philosophers have observed, “Sometimes it’s better to travel than to arrive.”

How I Spent My Veteran's Day Vacation - Ten Sleep Canyon

(Click pictures for large view)

I spent part of my holiday weekend driving from Buffalo, WY, to Worland, WY on the Cloud Peak Scenic Byway. 64 miles of twisty, winding road over the Powder River Pass and through Ten Sleep Canyon. When the road sign says slow to 25 mph, it’s probably a good suggestion, considering there is a series of switchbacks that has you driving right above the next section of road as you double back on yourself.

The interesting thing in the canyon- and reason to switch drivers if possible, is the roadside signs that point out the different geologic strata of the rock formations. It runs the gamut from Cretaceous, Jurassic, Triassic, Permian, Pennsylvanian, Mississippian, Devonian, Silurian, Ordovician, to Cambrian – 500 million years ago. The urge to jump out of the car and go touch the rocks was a bit overwhelming. Unfortunately, I was driving.

On the bright side, the highway department provided plenty of wide spots on the narrow road so you can pull over and gawk at the rock formations. Or put tire chains on in the winter. (People drive this in the winter? Are they nuts??) Or catch your breath and pry white knuckles from the steering wheel. And observe that the guard rails are supported by posts the diameter of telephone poles… about a foot apart. You’d have to really try to break through and plunge the thousand or so feet into the bottom of the canyon. Of course at one point I pulled over in a turn out to let two rolling bombs (gas trucks) go barreling by, because face it, I had a camera and I bet the flames would light up the murky depths well enough to get some good pictures.

The road has gates at either end of its 64 mile length. There was snow on the ground, but not on the road when I went through. There is no way I’m driving that in winter. The reflector lights had four foot orange poles taped to their tops. That tells me the snowplow drivers are the only ones crazy enough to be on that road after November…

On the other hand, the canyon was gorgeous. Like most of Wyoming’s unknown scenery, it was rather stark and plain, but not without its charm. When you finally break out of the mountains on the Worland side, there is a spectacular red cliff formation. On the return trip, my motivation was to get out of the canyon before dark. It was close, the bottom of the canyon was in shadow, and the rock formations painted gold by the setting sun. When I finally rounded the last curve and started into Buffalo, the sun painted the tops of the mountains and chased me home before gradually setting in my rearview mirror. While I was glad to be out of the canyon, part of me wanted to stay and enjoy the majesty of a night in the Big Horns. Then the logical, Vulcan side of me took over and reminded me that it was going to snow, and that I could come back next summer, park, and hike around petting all the Pre-Cambrian rocks I wanted.

The Breadcrumb Trail - Scene Transitions for Reluctant Characters

Figuring out what is log jamming my thought process is almost as interesting as the writing itself. I finally nailed it down to a scene transition. I needed to get my characters off the ship they are on and into the city with no one being the wiser. Can't just pull up to the port and unload, bad guys could be waiting. I could, of course, just plop them in the city and go forth from there – matter of fact I have made scene transitions like that, they do work, but in this case even if it ends up getting cut I need to know how they overcame the obstacle because elements of it figure into a scene later on. Another logic speed bump for my rapidly-becoming-linear brain.

I turned to my sure fire, scene solving, transition assistance method. Research. I read about schooners, ports, and bays, then old travel diaries from Brits abroad in the 1800's. My conclusion was that people weren't as lazy then as we are… and didn't mind getting a little wet and dirty. So instead of approaching it from my 21st century perspective of 'Eww, leeches!", I put myself in the protagonist's skin. The goal is in sight. He's got a sword he's itching to use. Several weeks on board a ship has made him stir crazy. So…

Objective: Get to shore quickly and disappear into the forest before the bad guys have a clue you're even on the continent. Problem: You have to take other people with you, and you don't know their capabilities. Problem: You need to take your animals, or it's a long walk to your destination, and you could miss the person you need to rescue. Minor Problems: Clothing? It'll dry. Weapons? Swords, they'll dry too. Provisions? Well, if you're not successful at the rescue, you'll be dead and not eating anyhow. Scrap major provisions. Tell your companions exactly what they'll be doing, when, and how they'll get eaten by tigers if they lag behind.

The ship captain is friendly to your cause, (for a nominal fee) so he'll anchor as close to shore as he can, drop a small boat over the side, and have a crewman row you in. So far so good. The animals are another story. They'll have to go over the side, into the water and swim to shore. They won't be happy, but hey, they'll dry, too. Better take the tack with you in the small boat. Wet saddles are uncomfortable for everyone.

So I get everyone on shore, saddle the animals, and set off through the jungle to creep our way to the outskirts of the city. Aw, crap, one thing I forgot. The characters are sneaking through what constitutes the king's hunting preserve. If found trespassing, they'll be shot. And hung. Then hung and shot. If they dawdle too long from bush to bush, they could miss the window of opportunity to rescue their target. If they race through the jungle willy-nilly, they could get discovered. What's a protagonist to do? Use magic? Well, now that you mention it… the protagonist just happens to be mage-handy, but if he uses magic, the bad guys can pinpoint their location and either move the rescuee or send troops to delay them. A prudent man would proceed quickly, but with utmost caution to avoid detection.

My protagonist is not a prudent man.

What, you thought I'd transition him gently into the abyss? This is where we find out if heart or mind will rule the day, and if our hero – and heroine – have learned anything over the course of the book. After all, 'full speed ahead' is what got them into this predicament in the first place.