I'm still struggling with the Book Brain. I've tried a few different things, so we'll see how any or all of them work.

1) Go back to the characters
I've been stuck on what happens next, especially given what I've just changed, and it occurred to me that what's most important is that the characters react in ways that make sense for them. What would this person really do in this situation? So I took another look at my core archetypes for these people to think about what drives them.

The problem I'm running into now is that one of the events is a huge one, the kind of thing that makes a person question everything about himself. So, would someone react according to type to something like that, or is it big enough to change the type entirely and change the way he'd react? I'm still not sure. I've made lists in both directions of things he might do, but both are still existing as possible futures.

2) Trust in the subconscious
I read something this week about getting your subconscious to solve problems for you. Just before you go to sleep at night, read over some notes about the project, and then as you fall asleep, focus on one main question that you need to resolve. Then maybe your subconscious will give you the answer in dreams.

I haven't been getting answers in dreams (oddly, I dreamed about an entirely different book), but I have been doing some daydreaming type thinking as I fall asleep and then again in the morning when I'm sort of awake but not fully conscious. I let myself imagine scenes with these characters, not even worrying about whether or not they belong in the book -- kind of mental fan fiction for my own book. I have discovered something I think I can use while doing that, and it takes the story in a new direction that I think I like. Maybe I should try daydreaming about those different possible futures and see the "movie" for each in my head.

3) Go back to the beginning
I'm going to have to go back to the beginning and make another pass at the book to do what Mom calls "Bill and Tedding" -- "remind me to go back in time and put a trash can there" -- to fix things that need to be set up for later events or to correct things changed by decisions I've made along the way. So I may as well do that now. Tweaking those little changes will help build toward the new direction of the last quarter of the book, and going through the whole book fairly rapidly instead of devoting three days to a chapter may help give me a running start toward the end while immersing me in the story, so that when I get to the stuck place, I'll know where to go.

I suppose we'll find out if these things work.

I got a jolt of awe/inspiration about plotting from something I saw on TV last night. My local PBS station is showing MI-5 (aka Spooks), and they're now in the season where A&E suddenly stopped showing it on a cliffhanger a few years ago (I know we're many seasons behind). The episode last night had some of the twistiest plotting ever, where you go through most of the episode thinking one thing is going on, but then that turned out to be a set-up for something else, and that then turned out to have been planned based on how the villain knew the good guys would react to the something else, so that their reaction played into the evil plan, and then when they thwarted that plan it turned out to be about something else entirely -- and all this made sense, and I didn't see any of it coming. My brain is depressingly linear, so I'm not too good at twists and surprises I really have to work at it. Any twists or surprises that come in my books come from me having plotted it one way and then changing my mind midway through the book when I realize that's too obvious. The red herring is actually my original plan.

Hmmm, maybe that's my problem here. Should my original bad guy be the red herring? And if so, who is the real bad guy? Or do I need a better red herring?

Writing is hard sometimes. At least, doing it well is.

Keep the questions coming. I'm making a list of post prompts.

It was quite a relief to find that I'm not the only one who can't seem to deal with graphic novels. I was feeling so bad about that because I have friends who write them, and then there's the TV show "extra seasons" thing, where I would prefer to have a regular novel. Though I must admit, the Pushing Daisies world would lose something without the visual element.

I have a bad case of Book Brain -- but not the whirling storm of ideas I can't capture fast enough kind. This is dangerously close to writer's block. I made one little change in the backstory -- something that doesn't even happen in the book itself -- and that ended up changing the entire plot for the last part of the book because it changed what was really going on and it changed everyone's motivations. I don't yet know for sure if that change was right, after all, but I won't know until I explore that path for a while.

I'm trying to remember which character this was -- possibly the Doctor on Doctor Who or maybe Rose when she had the burst of Tardis energy -- but I recall seeing or reading something about a character seeing not only the past and future, but also the possible pasts and futures, the alternatives to what actually happened, all existing simultaneously. That's kind of what I feel like at the moment. I'm seeing something like a branching flow chart of events, so that multiple possible futures all exist simultaneously and side-by-side, and I'm trying to figure out which makes for the best story. That is why my brain is exploding.

As a result of the Book Brain, I'm woefully short on blog topics, so here's your chance -- ask a question or suggest a topic about writing, the publishing industry, books, me, my books, my characters, cooking, TV, ballet, movies, geekery, travel, whatever. I can probably write something to a prompt, but my idea generator is currently running on overdrive elsewhere and is not available for blog topics.

And now to the store before I have a serious tea crisis.

Ballet class was killer last night. I think it will ultimately be good for me, and I know of a few exercises I now want to work into my daily routine because they attack some of my weaknesses, but for now, I'm aching all over, and it's entirely possible that I will be barely mobile tomorrow.

However, if I do work those exercises into the daily routine, a few months from now I will have amazing legs.

Still banging my head against the wall with the book. Every time I solve a problem and move forward, I come up against another problem, and solving it requires going back to fix a few earlier things. If I do get it all worked out, this could be the best thing I've written (and I really hope it gets to see the light of day). Or else I will be a quivering pile of jelly by the time I'm done and the book will have dissolved into gibberish.

I have a tendency to be a bundle of contradictions -- like my favorite ambient temperature is being both warm and cold at the same time, or I'll order onion rings as a side while requesting no onions on my hamburger. Well, here's a new one that may eliminate several points of geek credibility:

I don't like comic books or graphic novels.

It's really not a snob thing, where I think they're for kids or childish or anything like that. And it's not because I haven't tried reading the good ones (I really, really tried reading the Sandman series because I love Neil Gaiman's writing, but I couldn't follow the story). I have. I just don't get them, and I think it has something to do with the way I process information. I'm very, very verbal and not very visual at all. When I read comics or graphic novels, all I see is the words, but if it's a good one, the idea is that the pictures are essential for telling the story. I don't seem to process the words and the pictures at the same time, and as a result, even after reading a graphic novel, I have no idea what happened and I can't really follow the story.

This generally wouldn't be a big problem, but now it seems like all the TV shows I've loved that died before their time are being continued in comics form. I want to know what happens next and I want to follow those stories, but even if read the comics, I still wouldn't know what happened. For instance, I read the comics that came between the Firefly TV series and the movie Serenity, and I still couldn't tell you anything that happened or how it related to either show or movie. I've read at least one other Firefly comic and retained absolutely nothing. The Buffy and Angel stories are also continuing in comics, and then there's Farscape and apparently even an upcoming Pushing Daisies comic. What I need is a text-only recap so I can know what happens.

But here's where the contradiction comes in: I LOVE newspaper (or newspaper-style) comics. My favorite part of the daily newspaper and a big reason I still subscribe is that I love reading the comics while I eat lunch. My local paper has cut a lot of comics in recent years, and I've started following all those online, plus have added some new ones to follow. Then I discovered that you can also get "classics" as daily strips, so I'm back to getting a daily dose of Bloom County and Calvin and Hobbes. As a real bonus, comics.com also has Berke Breathed's first strip, Academia Waltz, which was the precursor to Bloom County that ran in the Daily Texan at UT. As a former Daily Texan staff member who was at UT not too terribly long after that strip ran, it's fun and nostalgic to follow that strip because life at the university wasn't that different in my time and because you can see the seeds of a lot of the Bloom County elements there. Bloom County is a lot more fun to me when I know that Steve Dallas is really a UT frat boy. One of the fun things about reading comics online is that some of the sites have comments like blogs, and some of the artists even join the conversation. I liked the strip Lio when it was in our paper, but I love it even more online because the artist will post comments and engage with people discussing the strip. I guess my visual information processing issues continue even with the simpler and easier-to-absorb format of a newspaper strip because there's always some visual gag I didn't even notice until someone points it out in the comments.

I'm not sure quite why I can love newspaper comics but not get comic books. The shorter form may help me absorb all the information. I may just enjoy the humor more than the serious storytelling. Or it could be that this is what I grew up with. Instead of reading comic books as a kid, I was reading compilations of newspaper strips. In general, I don't like pictures in my books, aside from the sections of photos that come in some non-fiction books. The visual thing sometimes even applies to TV and movies. I listen to TV more than I actually watch it, and I'm likely to lose interest in shows where too much of the information is given visually instead of in dialogue. I have to find a show absolutely compelling and be really emotionally involved before I can just watch with my full attention and even notice the visuals.

I'm also starting to discover web comics, which mostly seem to work like the traditional newspaper strip. My friend Rob Chambers -- who did the cartoon artwork on my web site -- has just launched a new web comic that I think my readers might like. It's a humorous fantasy comic called MeatShield about a barbarian on a quest and the student bard trying to record his adventures for her thesis. It's still new enough that it's easy to go back to the beginning and catch up, and it now posts on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Be sure to read the commentary with each strip and the background on the characters. So, check it out, and if you leave a comment, tell him Shanna sent you.

The good news: I think I've figured out what I need to do to improve the plot of the book I'm revising.
The bad news: It will require rewriting pretty much the last five chapters. A few scenes can sort of stay in a different context, but I think for the most part everything will change. Ack.

I made my second vat of soup of the season, since I'd already eaten my way through the first batch. I pretty much live on this stuff at this time of year. I'll have it for my lighter meal of the day (sometimes lunch, sometimes dinner) or have it as a vegetable side dish with the heavier meal. Someday I ought to do a cost analysis, figuring out the cost of all the ingredients and dividing by the number of servings to see how it compares to just buying soup in a can, but I think this tastes better, there's probably more nutrition in it, and I know there's less sodium because I don't put any salt in it and canned soup is really, really high in sodium. Keeping a batch of soup handy is also part of my flu prevention strategy. I only seem to get sick when I have no good "sick" food in the house, so I figure if I've got several servings of vegetable soup in the freezer, I won't get sick.

I have done a bit of reading while doing the writing/banging my head against the wall.

First, I managed to get my hands on the new Terry Pratchett book, Unseen Academicals (Mom, it's due on the 14th, and if I get the book done in time, I'll bring it over so you can read it, but work has to come before travel). This one wasn't my favorite of the series, but I can't really say if that's because of anything to do with the book or if it was because it was a book that didn't focus on my favorite aspects or characters of the Discworld. I suppose this would be classified as a "wizards" book, though the major characters are all newcomers, with the wizards mostly in the background. I have liked other books where the main characters weren't series regulars and the series regulars were in supporting roles, but I wasn't overly fond of at least one of the main characters here. She's the kind of person Pratchett usually skewers, and while she did come in for a bit of skewering and learned a few big lessons, I spent most of the time leading up to that point wanting to slap her silly. At any rate, I'll have to re-read this one to really judge how I like it, and it may take reading the next one to put it in context, but this time around I may have been distracted from the story that was actually there by my wondering where Vimes and Carrot were and what they were up to, or if Moist von Lipwig was running the tax system yet.

The plot was essentially about university athletics. The wizards at Unseen University have discovered some fine print about a major bequest requiring them to field a football team, and if they don't, they lose the money, which might trim back their snack allocation. Problem is, football is rather frowned upon and is something generally played on the streets as part of a rivalry between neighborhoods. But then the Patrician decides to legalize and formalize football, imposing rules and order, and the university's team will play in the first big game. Meanwhile, there are things going on among the university's below-stairs staff, including a bright young man who seems to be a minority of one (no one's entirely sure what he is) but who may be smart enough to help mold the wizards into an actual team. And there are a number of other little subplots, including one about modeling and ambition. I plowed through the book in one afternoon, and it had a number of laugh-out-loud moments, plus the usual insightful social commentary, but I tend to have to read these at least twice before all the details really sink in.

Then there was Mortal Engines by Philip Reeve, which is a young-adult, post-apocalyptic steampunk adventure. In the very far future on a devastated earth, cities have become mobile, roving the earth and scavenging smaller cities or towns, with airships used to scout out prey. And I have to say that this concept is utterly cool -- so cool it was almost distracting because I'd pause in the reading to imagine what that would be like. Dallas wouldn't get very far because the different parts of the city would all want to go in different directions, so it would just sit there, rocking back and forth. But I can imagine that Fort Worth would either absorb or ally with the Mid-Cities, and then it would go rollicking across the prairie, six-guns blazing, with a mighty "Yee Hah!"

Our hero, an apprentice historian, finds out that things in London aren't quite what they seem when he saves the life of the city's most famous historian, only to get himself shoved overboard by the man he just saved. Soon, he's on the run with a young radical who lives for revenge, and they get captured, rescued, captured again, enslaved, escaped, etc., in a series of adventures as they travel on airships and pirate suburbs in their attempt to get back to London. Meanwhile, the engineers of London have discovered a piece of ancient technology from the last war that they think is just what they need to take over the world.

This was shelved in the teen section of the library and the main character is 15, but the writing style struck me as more of a children's/middle grade book, except then a lot of the events were probably better suited for more mature readers (it gets really violent and there are a lot of pretty horrible deaths, including some major characters). That made for a slightly disconcerting mix, to be reading something that at times seemed almost childish, only to come across something a little too intense even for me as an adult. That's a fair warning for parents because I'm not sure where I'd say the target audience would be -- it's a little immature in a lot of places for teen readers, but probably too intense in places for younger readers. Which means it's just right for adults who no longer care whether what they're reading is too "babyish." I will be grabbing the sequel because I was really intrigued by this world and I liked the characters who actually managed to survive (did I mention the number of deaths?).

On a television note, the new version of V premieres tonight. Sci Fi was running the miniseries on Sunday, but I found I could only stand to watch a few minutes of it (I recall being very into it when I was a teenager). I'll be taping because I have ballet tonight, and then I don't know when I'll get around to watching it. It may get moved to my Friday line-up, before the ritual mocking of Stargate: Universe.

Speaking of Terry Pratchett and Friday-night television, I've decided that White Collar is essentially "Sam Vimes and Moist von Lipwig team up to fight crime." And now I want to read that book.

Wow, it's November. When did that happen? (Yeah, I know, yesterday, but it was a rhetorical question.)

I had a fun Halloween at our gang's annual party. The great thing about hanging out with fellow geeks is that you don't need to write a brochure to explain your geek-related costumes. People just get it. This year, my friends and I were Warehouse 13 agents. The clever thing is that meant we pretty much just wore normal clothes but had purple gloves, "Tesla" ray guns and silver artifact collection envelopes. However, the goodies we brought to the party also fit the costumes, as my friend brought a cake that was an artifact -- Julia Child's first cake, which has all kinds of effects if you're brave enough to eat it -- and I brought cookies -- fudge cookies, to further fit the theme. So, here we are in secret agent mode:



We watched an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000, then we watched a film suitable for that and provided our own commentary. I didn't catch the title of that film, but it was H.P. Lovecraft Meets The 70s and involved a very young Dean Stockwell using Sandra Dee as a book stand in a way that gives a whole new meaning to the term "bibliophile."

From this film, I have developed a series of handy survival tips to ensure that I never get put in the same situation:
Tip #1: Do not go out for drinks with the creepy guy who just tried to steal your library's copy of the Necronomicon.
Tip #2: If you disregard tip #1, when the creepy guy who just tried to steal the Necronomicon just happens to miss the last bus home, do not offer to give him a ride.
Tip #3: If you disregard tips 1 and 2, if the creepy guy lives in a creepy old mansion on a cliff overlooking the sea (and what bus route was that on, anyway?), slow down as you approach his driveway and shove him out of the car. DO NOT go inside with him.
Tip #4: If you disregard all of the above, DO NOT drink anything the creepy guy gives you, especially if there are occult symbols all over the house and his grandfather looks like the "caretaker" in any Scooby Doo cartoon.

If you disregard all of those, you're on your own and have bigger problems than I can help you with. You are probably too stupid to live. I won't even get into why you should be worried that a single man who lives alone with his grandfather in a creepy old mansion on a cliff overlooking the sea happens to have a sheer black nightie in the guest room closet.

And now back to the book revisions. I will not be doing National Novel Writing Month, as I've got at least a week's worth of work to do on this book, and then I really need that vacation before my head explodes.

I did finally finish revising The Chapter From Hell. And now I'm having to rethink the next chapter. ARRGGGGHHHH. Ahem.

At least I have my baking done for my Halloween party goodies, and I have a couple of things to finish for my costume. It's nice going to a party full of fellow geeks, so I can do something not entirely mainstream and everyone will still get it. It's also nice to do what's generally a pretty low-key "hanging out" party because I'm not that big on Halloween.

Which shouldn't come as much of a surprise, given that I'm a huge weenie who doesn't enjoy being scared. I don't even go to haunted houses. Why bother with the effort of a haunted house when I can get the same effect from being in a quiet room and having the phone ring? My parents' toaster does a nice, loud "Ding!" and that can practically launch me into orbit with a piercing shriek. Someone in a zombie costume jumping out at me would be overkill.

I did go to a haunted house once when I was a kid. My mom took me and some friends to the Jaycees' haunted house in downtown Lawton, OK, when I was in fourth grade. I know it was daylight, so I'm pretty sure it was a watered-down kiddy version, but I still recall it being pretty scary. At least, it was scary enough to send my friend into a massive asthma attack. She had really serious asthma, to the point of being hospitalized pretty often, and I don't know if it was the shock or the dust, but she started wheezing badly. My mom began running interference, calling ahead to warn people not to jump out at us because we had a child with an asthma attack and we just needed to get out of there.

All the costumed characters then became very concerned and very helpful, but they were still pretty hideous, so they were still rather scary while being helpful. That became a problem in the next room we got to, which was done up as the Phantom of the Opera's lair -- and it was the scary Lon Chaney version of the Phantom, long before the more romantic musical theater version. The Phantom was very well made up, one of the scarier costumes I've ever seen. And the Phantom totally forgot that he was the Phantom and went into crisis response mode when he saw a kid in respiratory distress and rushed over to help.

Needless to say, having a hideous Phantom rushing toward her did not help my friend, as my mom had to point out when she had to fend off the Phantom. Soon, they got a non-costumed person to us and got us out one of the emergency exits. Then my mom took us for ice cream. I thought it was pretty cool that my mom fought off the Phantom of the Opera. I've only been to one haunted house since then, eleven years ago on a date. I've pretty much decided that they fall into the category of Not For Me. I love fall, but Halloween isn't really my holiday.

Funny, I got a 40 percent off any book coupon from Borders in my e-mail today (though I doubt it's a direct response to my ranting). The sad thing is, after last Friday's unpleasant experience, I found a couple of the books on my list at the library and read a review by someone whose tastes I trust that gave criticisms of the another book I was thinking of getting that would probably have annoyed me. So I'm not sure what I would buy, even at 40 percent off. There's probably some fine print in there to restrict choices. The book I really wanted is apparently not in stock at any Borders nearby. The B&N nearest the Borders has it, but it may just be easier to throw it into the next Amazon order I make because it really is out of my way to go up there.

I did like what one person said in comments to that rant about "communing with the books." That's exactly what it is. Choosing a book isn't really a scientific process. Sometimes you just have to stand there and see which one speaks to you, no matter how much research you've done. I also use bookstore visits to get a sense of the market -- what seems to be the trend, what doesn't exist, etc. We're still overrun by tough chicks with tramp stamps, I'm afraid. I'm ready for something different. There has to be something else to do with an intersection of magic and the real world that doesn't involve acting like a PI.

I've come to the conclusion that what I want is pretty much the USA Network of books -- character-driven, a mix of drama and humor, some quirkiness, serious things happening but without true "darkness" and with a sense of hope, where the characters have some goal to shoot for. Plus, great character interaction. They apparently do have an actual checklist of these items for their original series, and they tend to pick shows for syndication that also fit the model. That's what I want in books, and it seems to be working for USA, so why isn't it showing up in books?

Meanwhile, I'm remembering why revisions are sometimes harder and take more time than writing the book in the first place, as I go into the third day of rewriting one chapter. In the first draft, you just write it. To revise it, sometimes you have to take the time to unthink what's already there so you're freed up to write what needs to be there. Day one was trying to fix what was already there. Day two was realizing that I needed to go further back and make some adjustments before I could move forward while also realizing that most of what I'd written can't be fixed and that things should happen an entirely different way. Day three will be scrapping the middle and rewriting entirely. I might finish this chapter today. I'll have to see if my plan works, since it involves cutting some action and instead building tension, since I realized that the action didn't make that much sense. I can usually write a chapter in a day. There may be dents on my desk and on the wall by the time I'm done with this.

A big storm front just came through, so it's almost at nighttime levels of darkness, even in a room with a wall of windows and a skylight. I also don't have to go anywhere at all, so it should be a good writing day. I might even be able to move on to the next chapter. We'll see if I hit the Thursday 4 p.m. blahs this week or if I can power through. I also need to do some baking, as the food I'm bringing to the Halloween party is also part of my costume.

Wow, it seems I struck a nerve with my Borders rant. I've read about that handselling policy online, but I only have visited that one store, so I don't know if that store's manager takes it more seriously than others or if I just look approachable enough that I get the full onslaught (plus, I tend to be in the store in off hours when I may be the only customer). Aside from the personal irritation, I mostly feel bad for the employees whose performance evaluations are tied to this silly practice and who have the impossible task of trying to make everyone buy a book chosen at the corporate level. I do know that if I get desperate enough to look for any kind of day job, I won't be applying at Borders. I can talk about books all day, but I can't sell something aggressively (I couldn't even sell Girl Scout cookies).

Now, for the semi-weekly writing post:
From my regular excursions around the Internet and from the way I see the book industry portrayed on TV, I get the impression that there are a lot of false impressions out there about the way publishing works. To help clear things up, I'll address some myths and realities about publishing. (This would be more fun if it were on Mythbusters and I could literally blow things up, but I'm stuck using words.)

Myth #1: You have to know somebody to get a book published. It's all about who you know.
Reality: It's mostly about the book for a first-time author. For other authors, it's about the sales numbers on previous books in addition to the quality and the potential sales for this book.
Exception: If you're famous for something else, it may be easier to get a book published -- if you're already known as a journalist, actor, model, singer or reality show personality, your novel will probably sell on the basis of your name instead of on the merits of the book itself. Sadly, there are people out there who will buy something just because it has a famous person's name on it, and famous people have a better chance of publicizing a book because they can get on talk shows and get other interviews. But I would consider this more a case of "who knows you" than "who you know."
Explanation: It doesn't hurt to know people in the business, but just knowing people isn't that big a help. It might get you a faster read instead of languishing in the slush pile, but it still comes down to the merits of the book, and they're not going to buy a book they wouldn't have bought otherwise just because they know you. I know a lot of people in the business. I'm personal friends with a lot of editors and agents. But when I sold the Enchanted, Inc. series, the agent I went with was one I'd never met, and I approached her in the same way anyone else would, by sending a query letter according to her guidelines, and the editor who bought it was one I'd never heard of. I've never sold a book to an editor I already knew pretty well. Where knowing people -- whether in a personal friendship or just by following blogs -- helps is in helping you know what's going on in the industry, what kinds of books are selling and what various editors' and agents' particular pet peeves or interests are. Not that you should stick dogs in your book just because you learn that a particular agent is a dog lover, for example, but if you've written a book involving a dog, then you might highlight that aspect of your book in your query to that agent, or if the dog dies in your book, you'd know that agent would likely be turned off.
Bottom line: Make contacts and do your research, but don't count on that selling the book for you. The only "easy" shortcut is to go become famous elsewhere and then try to sell your book. (Good luck with that.)

Myth #2: Once you sell your first book, it's easy sailing because you have your foot in the door.
Reality: Some things get easier. Some things actually get harder.
Explanation: This myth tends to come up in the context of complaints about the Catch-22 of publishing, that you have to have sold a book to get an agent, but you have to have an agent to sell a book, so once you sell a book, you've broken out of that catch and have it made. Already being published can help -- you may already have an agent and don't have to jump through the query process hoops with each new project. If you don't already have an agent, you are likely to be more attractive to agents with a sale under your belt. You already have a relationship with an editor and don't have to jump through the usual query hoops with each new project. However, you also now have a track record and numbers that go with your name, so they're not just guessing how well your book will sell based on sales of similar titles, they're projecting based on your actual sales numbers. A brand-new author could be the next big thing, but an existing author who wasn't the next big thing has baggage. An author who has sold a book may also be pigeonholed into a certain area so that publishers resist trying something new.
Bottom line: You have to be really successful on a consistent basis before this business becomes "easy."

Myth #3: Authors are wealthy.
Reality: Some authors do get rich, but most authors don't earn enough money to make a living from their writing and have to have other jobs or spouses to support them.
Explanation: We generally hear about the big, mega-selling authors because they're famous and because they sell a lot. You don't hear about Joe Author who gets a four-figure advance because nobody would care. Advances in the $5,000-$20,000 range are far, far more common than the six-figure or multi-million dollar advances, and most books don't earn royalties beyond their advances.
Then remember that this is a gross amount. From that, deduct 15 percent for the agent's commission and any business expenses -- which include just about any promotion and publicity the author wants to do, since the publisher doesn't pay for that. Unless they're lucky enough to have a spouse with a good health plan, authors have to pay for their own health insurance at individual rates. Authors also have to pay self-employment taxes, which is the amount that would be deducted from a paycheck for stuff like Social Security, plus the amount an employer would usually match (it's approximately double what's deducted from a paycheck). I have had years where my gross writing income was in the neighborhood of what I was making when I had a day job, but I've yet to have my net writing income match my take-home pay from my day job, even from when I was working part-time, and I wasn't working in a high-paying field. I don't have a day job, but I do some freelance writing, and I went into this with a large savings account from years of living frugally while I had a day job. Most years, I couldn't live on my fiction writing alone.
Bottom line: You could get lucky, but in general, this is not a get-rich-quick scheme.

Myth #4: Publishers are only interested in "safe" books that don't push boundaries, and they'll reject anything too unusual.
Reality: Yes, and no. This is a business, so they're going to focus on making money, so they need to publish the books likely to appeal to the broadest base of readers. But most people who work in publishing are there because they love to read, and they'll work to make it happen if they come across something unusual that really knocks their socks off.
Explanation: This is generally a sour grapes myth -- the kind of thing people say when their books are rejected. It softens the blow to think that it wasn't the quality of what you wrote but rather the fact that it was too good for them. It's also easy to look at the bookstore shelves and think that they only want more of the same. To some extent, that is true, especially in tough times. They're going to go for the thing that they know for sure there's an audience for over the thing that's likely to have a smaller audience or that will require a lot of work (and money) to promote enough to get people to try it. Most of the books that seemed to come out of nowhere to become mega-bestsellers were rejected left and right before they sold. On the other hand, the odder your concept, the higher the quality your writing needs to be to get accepted. I have learned this one the hard way. I had a really out-there concept that did get rejected for being too weird, but I know that means that I didn't write well enough to pull off that concept (and someday I'll revisit it and see if I can write it better).
Bottom line: It is possible to be too out there, and the more out there you are, the better your book has to be. Of course, the better your book is, the better your chances are, whether you're writing something tried-and-true or something truly weird. Unfortunately, "good" is a subjective value.

Myth #5: You have to follow proper manuscript format to sell a book.
Reality: This is another one of those yes and no answers. You do want to present your manuscript professionally, but proper format is not a magical formula that will somehow elevate your book above the rest.
Explanation: If you're writing screenplays, you do need to follow a standard format because that's how they determine how long the produced film will be. Some short story markets are also picky about exactly how something is formatted. Most book publishers just want it to be double-spaced, with type that can be easily read, black ink on white paper. Supposedly, "standard manuscript format" involves 12 point Courier type, but I've heard editors and agents say they prefer other fonts (they don't agree on a font, which means there is no industry-wide standard). One of my former editors, who'd been in the business for years and who was a senior editor at a major publishing company, actually didn't know what "standard format" was (so I would assume you wouldn't be rejected for not using it). I used to write for a house that supposedly has a very specific format they want, and I'd sold two books to them before I learned this, so it must not have been crucial (and I didn't sell more to them once I started using their "standard" format). To play it safe, go with 12 point type in a reasonably standard font (Courier, Times New Roman, or something of that ilk -- no script, Gothic or Dingbats), double space, and use 1-inch margins all around. If your targeted market has a standard format they want to see, use it. Most editors and agents aren't going to reject a book just because the format isn't perfect if they otherwise love it, but if it's a pain to read, they may be more inclined to give up and stop reading sooner. Meanwhile, absolutely perfect formatting won't save a book if the content isn't there.
There is no standard length for chapters. It depends on the pacing and the way you want to structure your story. Some authors make each new scene its own chapter, some use chapters for point-of-view shifts, some vary chapter length and some keep the same length for each chapter. Typically, you would start each new chapter on a new page with the chapter heading about a third of the way down on the page.
Bottom line: Be professional and make it easy to read, but worry more about the story than the formatting because the story is what sells the book.

The rainy-day marathon was a big success. After a slow start when the cold, dark, rainy day just made me want to nap, I was able to figure out a particularly knotty problem and then move forward. And then I realized that the "forward" came at the very end of the day, fairly late at night, and I'd spent hours re-working what I'd already done so I could reach the "forward" part. Today, though, I really do hope to move ahead.

One thing I did this weekend, in addition to going to the show on Friday and the neighborhood social and the library on Saturday (it was a rockin' weekend, for sure) was swing by Borders, since they'd sent me another one of those tempting coupons. As a result of that visit, I have this open letter to Borders (which I will likely send to their management):

Dear Borders:

I know times are tough and you need to do anything to make a buck. I also know that you think you're being innovative by having your employees hand-sell certain books whose publishers are paying you to do so.

But, speaking as a customer, I have to say Stop. It. Now. It's the most annoying thing ever, it cost you at least one sale this weekend, and it's making me reluctant to go to Borders anymore because it makes book shopping intensely unpleasant.

I had only a few minutes to spend in your store because I was on my way somewhere else, but I'd been lured by a coupon, and I had a list of specific books I was looking for. I had just enough time to look for these books, decide which one I wanted, and then get through the checkout line. But then I got waylaid by your employee, doing the mandatory book-pushing duty. She shoved a book into my hands and told me I would love it.

I don't mind handselling when it's true handselling, when a bookseller who knows me as a regular customer or who has taken the time to get to know what I like recommends books based on her knowledge of my tastes. This program is the opposite of handselling. It's attempting to make books a one-size-fits-all item. There is no possible way that booksellers can honestly tell every single customer that he or she will like one particular book. This book was so far beyond what I'm remotely interested in reading that I practically threw it back at the bookseller in reflexive revulsion once I read the cover copy.

Unfortunately, the time taken up with having to look at this book I didn't want and then fend off the bookseller trying to push the other "make" title on me meant that when I didn't find the primary book I was looking for after searching a couple of different possible sections, I no longer had the time to look at the other possible books on my wish list and then get through checkout before I had to leave, so I just left the store without buying anything. If I hadn't been waylaid by your "make" titles, I would have probably bought a book.

The problems with this practice are numerous:
1) If customers don't realize that this isn't an honest recommendation and instead is merely another form of paid placement, it risks your booksellers' credibility when they make blanket recommendations that are outside their own areas of interest and that have absolutely nothing to do with the customers' tastes. When a bookseller pushes a book the customer has zero interest in with a "you'll love it" recommendation, the customer is less likely to listen to that person's recommendations in the future. Handselling -- real handselling -- then loses its effectiveness. If you do know it's paid placement, you can no longer trust any bookseller recommendations. A Borders bookseller can swear on a stack of Bibles that a book is brilliant and that I'll love it, and unless I know that bookseller personally, I won't believe it. I will assume it's paid placement and disregard it.
2) When booksellers have to focus on pushing particular titles, they aren't available to help customers find the books they're actually looking for.
3) Most people don't really like being rude or rejecting people, so if they have to reject a bookseller every time they walk through the door of a bookstore, they're going to quit going to the bookstore. This practice makes it less pleasant to visit a bookstore. Amazon looks better all the time. At least their recommendations are based on actual data, and I don't feel rude for rejecting or ignoring them. Why would you deliberately create a situation that makes your customers want to avoid your employees?
4) Making me look at a book I have zero interest in wastes time I could be spending browsing books I am interested in (it's probably not smart to intercept people heading to the genre fiction section to push literary fiction) and makes me less likely to buy anything at all.

I find this practice so annoying that even your coupons may not make up for it if I have to enter the store through the cafe and then crawl on my elbows to the section that interests me so I can avoid the "make" title push. I can tell you right now that I will NEVER buy one of these books. On the remote chance that one of them interests me (so far, none of them have been of the slightest interest to me), I will make a point of buying it somewhere else because I refuse to reward this practice.

This may be a radical concept, but why not empower your employees and give them free rein to choose the books they want to push, based on their customers' tastes and interests? Or maybe develop some subject matter experts who can help customers within certain genres? I would love it if a knowledgeable bookseller could take a list of my favorites and give me some good recommendations for other books I might like or could give me insight into new titles in my areas of interest.

I hope the publishers are giving you a ton of money for these "make" titles, enough to make up for the customers you lose by making it so unpleasant to go to your stores. I have my own issues with the other big chain and go out of my way to visit Borders even though the other chain has a store a mile from my house, but my loyalties are about to shift, and I'm a very avid reader.

Love, me.

Or am I being a grouch about this? I was just so annoyed about the fact that I went there planning to buy a book and then didn't have time to choose one because I got stopped and had a book that included the words "crumbling marriage" (one of my auto-reject cues) on the cover literally shoved into my hands, even after I told the employee that I wasn't interested and that I knew she was being forced to push that book rather than making an honest recommendation. I don't ask much of bookstore sales staff. I usually just want to be left alone and can find things for myself. If I need help finding something, like if I'm not sure which section it's in, it's nice if there's a human being at the information desk. If I have time, I don't mind chatting if the bookseller notices what I'm buying and can make other recommendations. Other than that, I just need someone there to take my money.

Otherwise, are there no writing post questions? I have Book Brain this week, so you never know what I might come up with if I'm left to my own devices.

For an interesting start to my day, just before I woke up, I dreamed first that I went back to work at my first job out of college, working for my first boss, and then that dream transitioned to me being on jury duty -- and these weren't nightmares. Not that they were the kind of happy dream you don't want to leave when you wake up, but I didn't have the kind of emotional or physiological reaction I associate with nightmares. I was going back to that job with a sense of resignation and a mental vow to get out of there as soon as possible. It certainly was incentive to get to work today to create something that could earn me some money so I won't have to take measures that extreme.

I wondered in my musing on darkness if maybe I was just a big weenie, and the answer may be "yes." I had something of an epiphany Friday night when I went with some friends to see the stage version of Rocky Horror and realized that I would never in a million years have the guts to do something like that. Aside from the singing stage fright, I don't think I'd have the nerve to do a whole show just wearing lingerie or to act like that. I'd want to have some kind of disclaimer that I'm not really like that. Which means that in spite of my idle daydreams, I probably never would have made it as an actress because I'm a big, huge chicken. It wouldn't hurt me to step out of my comfort zone every so often, though. I took drama classes in college, and I've pondered taking the acting class at the nearby community college, just for the loosening up that's pretty much forced upon you (acting technique is also great for characterization). But I still won't be auditioning for Rocky Horror. I was flustered enough when they came up the aisle to do the Time Warp at the finale, and I found myself dancing with "Rocky," who was wearing nothing but a gold Speedo. My social life lately generally hasn't involved nearly naked men with nice bodies, so that was ... interesting.

In other weekend news, I absolutely loved the pilot for White Collar on USA. Smart, attractive people thinking their way through cases while having a sense of humor -- yeah, I'm in. Plus, after last week's discussion on the whiny girlfriends/spouses of save-the-world guys, it was refreshing to see the FBI agent's wife being so cool. She didn't whine or make a fuss when her husband didn't make it home for dinner. She just called the dog to the table and let it eat her husband's dinner. She struck a nice balance between being supportive and showing concern about how hard he was working. When she mentioned how hard he was working, it did come across as concern for him and not "what about meeeeeee?" whining. Meanwhile, the ads weren't tricking me into getting a slight Owen vibe from the main character. The character is totally different, but there were moments where he really struck me as looking just like something I'd pictured, and the voice was even right. It was a little eerie. I'm still not endorsing any particular actor or indulging in fantasy casting, but I would certainly be on board if they wanted to cast Matt Bomer (and hey, he's already working for Universal). And now I kind of want to go write more books about Owen.

Today is delightfully dreary, and I have nothing on my agenda but writing, so after lunch I'll be hauling the laptop to the loft and settling down for a marathon working session. I'm even wearing the Fuzzy Pink Pajama Pants of Writing. I don't work in my pajamas, but I do have items in my wardrobe that are meant to be pajamas that I have designated as daytime work clothes. On cool, dreary days, the Fuzzy Pink Pajama Pants are ideal for curling up with the laptop.

One last thing: I don't have a topic in mind for a writing post this week. Does anyone have something you want me to tackle? I think I've worked through the last list I made of reader requests.