Books I am not reading

We all have them--books on the coffee table or the bedside table that are collecting dust because we're not reading them. Oh, we meant to start them (or finish them), we really did, but somehow we just...didn't.

Right now I'm not reading Dearest Friend: A Life of Abigail Adams, by Lynne Withey. The first few chapters were fascinating, but I put the book down a few months ago and I haven't picked it up again because I'm no longer in the mood to read a biography.

(So that's where my silver-plated bookmark got to! I was looking for it just the other day.)

Recently my Number One Son read Robert M. Pirsig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance and wanted to discuss it with me. It's been twenty years since I read it, I told him, I'd need to brush up. I snagged a copy from Amazon just before Christmas, looked at the first few pages, and got distracted. Now here it sits in my office, not being read. (Behind Zen is the small rubber ball I bounce off my closed office door whenever I need to let off some writerly steam.)

Another book I am not reading is Walden. As I have already mentioned a time or two on this blog, I have been not reading Walden for years. I have tried and tried, but I just can't get into it.

What books are you not reading, and why?

The imperfect library

This article in The Telegraph claims that one can build a "perfect" library out of a mere 110 books:

From classics and sci-fi to poetry, biographies and books that changed the world… we present the ultimate reading list.

I would agree that most of the listed books are must-haves. But one hundred and ten books is hardly a library, let alone a perfect library. It's only a start. Even in hardcover, that number of books would take up only about three shelves of the average bookcase.

I own only 42 of the books on the list. Which means, I suppose, that my library is not perfect. But I knew that already. The library of a booklover is always growing and evolving and proving there's no such thing as a complete or a perfect library.

But that's part of the fun, don't you think?

Confessions of a book trasher

From a Time article on "The Unabridged Laws of Library Management":

RULE #1: THE PRIME DIRECTIVE -- It is unacceptable to display any book in a public space of your home if you have not read it. Therefore, to be placed on Matt Selman's living room bookshelves, a book must have been read cover to cover, every word, by Matt Selman.

Hmm. Where do you suppose Matt Selman keep all the books he has purchased or borrowed or been gifted with but has not yet read? Stacked under the kitchen sink? And does he keep all of the books he reads, or just the ones he reads and likes?

There are a number of unread books in my living room bookcases. There are also quite a few books I have begun but have been unable to finish, although I will try again one day because I suspect I'll be glad to have read them. Moby Dick and the newly deceased Bill Buckley's Brothers No More are two novels in that category.

If I love a book and believe I may read it again one day, I'll keep it. I do not keep books that I have read or skimmed and have no further use for, but I do try to find good homes for them. The way I figure it, a book that doesn't knock my socks off deserves a chance to knock somebody else's socks off. But a bad book must be punished, so into the paper-recylcling bin it goes. I never give bad books away because I don't want to play any role in promoting bad writing or what I consider to be offensive subject matter.

This morning I trashed three bad books, two of which had been sent to me, I believe, in the hope that I would mention them here on NRJW. (I gave them a glance and decided both authors were darn lucky I don't review books on this blog.) The third book was a romance novel I had to judge for Romance Writers of America's RITA contest. (On a scale of 1-10, I gave it a 2, then regretted my generosity. I wouldn't even reccommend lining a birdcage with those pages unless it could be established beyond any doubt that the bird was illiterate.)

What's your criteria for keeping and discarding books?

Video reviews at Amazon

At Amazon, book reviews can't be posted before a book's release date. My new book was released yesterday, so like the shallow, insecure writer I am, I popped over to Amazon just now to see if anyone had posted a review. (Somebody did--bless his or her heart.) While I was there, I noticed that Amazon is now accepting video reviews.

How cool is that? Of course I'd go into transports of delight if somebody video-reviewed my book, but right now I'm interested in seeing any video-review of a romance novel. If you know of one, how about sharing that link in the Comments?

On cheeseburgers and book snobs

I saw this in The Guardian's Books Blog a couple of weeks ago, but haven't had time to blog about it until now. Under the title, "Live first, write later" comes this subheading: Bookshops are littered with underdeveloped work by young authors. It takes a mature novelist to write a masterpiece.

Wow. Surely no reasonable person would suggest that bookstores should peddle only masterpieces. But the post begins:

Should all novelists under 30 be banned from publication? That might sound a bit extreme or even absurd, but let's dig a little deeper. How do you begin to validate such an outrageous proposition? For starters, consider these authors: James Joyce, Herman Melville, Mark Twain, Ernest Hemingway, George Orwell, Richard Brautigan, Knut Hamsun, Sherwood Anderson and Mark SaFranko. The later work of all these writers is undeniably superior as it is more rounded and contains greater emotional depth.

Most writers take years to get to grips with their chosen craft. And to produce anything of literary worth, they need to have lived a little, taken jobs, travelled, had a series of love affairs, shot a man in Reno. How can you write about life if you haven't even lived it?

It continues in the same obnoxious vein: authors have no business writing, publishers have no business buying, and booksellers have no business peddling books that are not masterpieces. Take a look at this conclusion:

Ultimately, publishers and marketing folk have to take some responsibility for this systematic denigration of our precious culture. Brilliant writers will be lost forever, and publishing young, not-yet-ready authors and hyping them into oblivion does the writers themselves few favours. Where do they go from there? If they are told they are good when they've yet to develop, how can they judge the validity of everything they do afterwards?

Maybe banning all novelists under 30 is a fanciful idea, but if publishers used this awkward notion as some sort of yardstick, our bookshelves might contain a good deal more than just pretty covers, pretty pictures and problematic prose.

Is this guy serious? Does he really believe a book isn't worth reading unless it's a masterpiece? (And whose definition of "masterpiece" is he using, anyway?)

I enjoy fine dining, and have had some meals in five-star restaurants that I've talked about for weeks afterward. But last week I had a really good cheeseburger from Wendy's. The beef was juicy, the lettuce was fresh and plentiful, the onions were sweet and crisp. It was good. Just because it was cheap, easy to obtain, served up quickly, and pretty much forgotten an hour later doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it from first bite to last.

I've read books that were almost as easily forgotten as that cheeseburger--but while reading them, I enjoyed myself immensely. They were, emphatically, not masterpieces, but they had value to me, at least for a time, and I like to think that made them worth writing, worth publishing, and worth the space they once took up on bookstore shelves.

That's why I'm not offended when people criticize my books or make derogatory statements about the genre I write in. Tell me my latest book is not a masterpiece and I'll heartily agree; while I have some small talent, I'll never be a great romance writer. But tell me my book is not worth the paper it's printed on and I won't be crushed because I simply won't believe you. Tell me you hated my book and I won't question the quality of my writing, I'll just wonder what's wrong with you.

An author doesn't write for publication unless she feels she has something to offer the world. Publishers don't buy books unless they believe readers will want them. Bookstores don't stock books unless they have a pretty good idea the things will sell. Admittedly, most published novels don't even approach greatness. But many of them are good. To maintain that such "non-masterpiece" books should never have been written because the authors weren't (or weren't yet) capable of producing "gourmet" fare is just plain dumb.

Doing the continuity series dance

In just over a week, I must submit the complete manuscript for the continuity series book I've been working on. I said some time ago that I would explain the writing process for this kind of book, and since it's difficult to wrap my mind around anything else right now, it looks like today's the day.

In the romance world--and by that I mean the Harlequin world--a continuity series is a set of interrelated books written by different authors. There are generally 6-12 books/authors involved, and the novels are usually released one a month. Readers just eat these things up, and will watch for each book in the series because they're eager to revisit the setting and the characters they've come to care about. They want to know what happens next.

The series I'm involved in, Love Inspired's "Homecoming Heroes," will feature six books, to be released from July through December of next year. I'm writing the third book in the series. As is usual with these novels, each will feature a complete love story, but will contain subplots that will run the length of the series. That means that although you'll get to know my hero and heroine and will see them make a commitment to each other by the end of my book, there will be three subplots that will remain unresolved. You'll have to read books 4, 5, and 6 to find out how those are wrapped up.

To tell you the truth, that's not very attractive to me as a reader. I've never been wild about books that aren't finished by the last page (which is part of the reason I still haven't read a Harry Potter book). But apparently, I'm an odd bird. Romance readers love continuity series books. So when my editor invited me to write the third book of Homecoming Heroes, I decided to give it a try.

Each of the Homecoming Heroes books will feature either a hero or a heroine soldier who has just come home to our fictional Army base in Texas following his or her deployment to the Middle East. The series will have a small town feel, and you'll see most of the characters dance in and out of the other books.

These stories are tricky to coordinate. As is usual, Homecoming Heroes began with a series "bible" which was created by the Love Inspired editors. They dreamed up basic character sketches for the heroes and heroines of each book and provided a simple storyline for the three subplots that run through the series. Next, they discussed which authors they wanted to invite to write each of the books. (The copyrights on these books won't be held by the individual authors but by Harlequin, because the original concept for the series was theirs.)

When all six authors were on board, our editor e-mailed us and suggested that we set up a private e-mail loop. As I recall, that happened around the middle of June, giving us about three months to write our books.

Each of the authors jumped into the project in her own way, but a great deal of research had to be shared via the private loop. There were many details in the bible that just didn't work for our story once we got going, but I understand that's par for the course. What sounds like a good idea in the editor-prepared bible can become problematic when the authors begin researching and putting the stories together. For example, in our series a certain hero was meant to be an Army pilot who flies a foreign national--an orphaned child--to Texas for medical treatment and subsequent adoption. The authors were charmed by that storyline until we learned that Army aviators fly helicopters, not fixed-wing aircraft; hospital planes are flown to the U.S. by the Air Force. Also, while our orphan could get a medical visa to come to the U.S., we learned that such a child couldn't stay here and be adopted. There is no visa for that. So some changes had to be made in the bible.

It was sometimes frustrating but ultimately satisfying to hammer out those and other continuity details. To solve some problems in the bible, we had to invent another secondary character. Then somebody got the idea to kill the guy for dramatic effect. "No, he can't die before Book Three," I whined. "I need him. Kill him in Book Four if you want." (Was that callous of me? I blame the pressures of working under a tight deadline.)

The loop has been fairly quiet in the past couple of weeks. We're all finishing our books. When we turn in the manuscripts, our editors will comb through them carefully, looking for small continuity errors, like a character having blond hair in Book One and red hair in Book Six (without any apparent assist by chemicals), and serious problems, like a guy having a glorious death scene in Book Two and then drinking a cup of coffee in Book Three. We authors have tried hard to stay on the same page: "Does our orphan have a stuffed animal?" I asked a week or two ago. "I just gave him a teddy bear, so if somebody has him cuddling a stuffed rabbit, please speak up." "What's the name of the ice-cream parlor next to the town green?" someone else asked. "We decided to call it The Creamery," another author replied. "Fine," said the first. "What's the interior like? Red vinyl booths?" When I needed to know just how well our foreign-born orphan handled the English language, the author of Book One posted a scene containing dialogue to the e-mail loop.

Romance novelists are often accused of slapping books together without regard for quality, but I can tell you that we're working hard to make Homecoming Heroes as entertaining and as believable as possible. A month or so after we turn in our manuscripts, we'll get revision letters from the editors, who will have carefully read all six of the stories and identified problems in the big picture that we've been unable to see. Then we'll go back to work tightening our own stories and the series as a whole.

That's the process. And now if you'll excuse me, I must get back to it. This puppy goes in the mail next Friday.

Leaving books behind

For quirky news on books and literature, I always look to the Brits, especially the Telegraph:

Alistair Campbell, the former Downing Street communications chief, received an unwelcome literary accolade today.

His book The Blair Years topped the charts of a list of the latest literary works most often left behind in hotel rooms, compiled by hotel chain Travelodge.

This cracked me up. Why on earth is Travelodge tallying left-behind books?

Never mind. What interests me even more is why the Telegraph believes it's a shame to top the list of left-behinds. Why assume that people abandoned the books because they didn't like or weren't able to finish them? For all we know, the books were thoroughly enjoyed and digested and then left by oversight or to lighten suitcase loads.

The new Harry Potter book was Number 10 on the left-behind list.

So. What books have you left behind on planes, trains, and in hotel rooms? And why did you leave them?

How to read a book

From Bookselling This Week:

An Associated Press/Ipsos poll, released on Tuesday, revealed that 27 percent of the approximately 1,000 U.S. adults polled had not read a book in the past year. However, the study showed that more than half of those who did read a book in the past year had read more than six books, and over a quarter had read more than 15.

Why don't more people read books? Could it be that they're simply afraid of trying something new?

See if you don't get a good belly laugh out of this video:



(Hat tip to The Internet Writing Journal for the link.)

Cover image scandal averted?

Remember this post, in which I expressed surprise at the bare belly on the cover of the large-print hardcover edition of my second inspirational romance novel?

As per my contract with Harlequin, I was to receive three copies of the book "if available." Rather than leaving things to chance, I ordered a copy from Amazon. It arrived today, and was I ever surprised when I opened the box and saw this:

Yep, they changed the cover.

I'm not entirely certain that the new cover represents progress. If you'll click on the pic to make it larger, you'll notice that the heroine has lost her wedding ring--and the hero's still not wearing one.

I can't help but wonder if sales are being hurt or helped by the fact that Thorndike's website is still showing this as the book's cover:



Listen, folks. I just write the books. Don't blame me for the covers, okay?

This is dedicated to the one I love

On Tuesday we discussed acknowledgements pages in novels. Today I thought you might like to weigh in on the subject of book dedications.

From today's Guardian:

One of the things nobody tells you when you write a book is how to do a dedication. Presumably they figure it is the least of your problems, and it is. Like the title and the acknowledgements, the dedication is primarily a challenge faced by authors who have already secured both a publishing deal and a plausible ending. But if you are stuck, a title can be suggested by someone else; a dedication really should be all your own work (the authors of The Diary of a Nobody dedicated it to the man who came up with the title: problem solved). And a dedication is meant to be a permanent memorial, even when the bulk of the print run ends up being pulped. It is something you are supposed to craft with care.

I'll confess that I wrote the dedication page of my first novel while I was waiting to hear whether the editors at Steeple Hill Books liked the full manuscript they'd asked to see. I've always wondered what percentage of writers believe so strongly in their novels that they start getting ready for publication even before their books have been sold.

Here's another interesting bit from the Guardian article:

In his book Invisible Forms, Kevin Jackson argues that many of the bits of books we tend to disregard - epigraphs, acknowledgements, indexes, bibliographies - are actually "paratextual", in other words, worthy of analysis in their own right. But this argument works better for prefaces and glossaries than for dedications. Some are funny, some clever or illuminating, but the vast bulk of dedications are dull, uninspiring, and, if you are lucky, brief. A review of the Bloomsbury Dictionary of Dedications described it as "a catalogue of favourite aunts, perfect spouses and the profoundest platitudes. Dedications really do bring out the worst in authors."

Be sure to click over and read the full article, because it contains a funny story about how the author's attempt to write a clever dedication went awry during the publication process.

How do you feel about book dedication pages? Do you read them or skip past them? If you're a dedicated dedication reader, do you most enjoy funny ones, poignant ones, or those that appear to be private jokes?

Examples will be appreciated. (I'm trying to think up a dedication for my next book.)

New trend: teenagers buying books

This morning Sarah Weinman at Galleycat linked to an article in the Seattle Post-Intelligencer. I clicked over to the PI and got a giddy little thrill from the headline, "Teens buying books at fastest rate in decades." Here's a juicy excerpt:

It's a time of strong writing and strong sales as readers in the 12-to-18 age group rock the marketplace.

"Kids are buying books in quantities we've never seen before," said Booklist magazine critic Michael Cart, a leading authority on young adult literature. "And publishers are courting young adults in ways we haven't seen since the 1940s."

Credit a bulging teen population, a surge of global talent and perhaps a bit of Harry Potter afterglow as the preteen Muggles of yesteryear carry an ingrained reading habit into later adolescence.

Not only are teen book sales booming -- up by a quarter between 1999 and 2005, by one industry analysis -- but the quality is soaring as well. Older teens in particular are enjoying a surge of sophisticated fare as young adult literature becomes a global phenomenon.

That's very good news for society and for the publishing industry. And for romance writers, too:

Fantasy and graphic novels are especially hot, and adventure, romance, humor and gritty coming-of-age tales remain perennial favorites.

There are a lot more kids in this new generation than I realized:

There are many reasons for the turnaround, not least the sheer size of the teen population -- well over 30 million kids with ready cash in their pockets. Called Gen Y or Millennials, they trail only the baby boomers in number.

"The publishing world has recognized that teens have a lot of disposable income, and they're willing to spend it," Nelson said. "They buy books. They (especially) buy paperbacks."

Excellent. I think I'll go write one.