The title of this blog isn't sarcastic. (No, I don't have a fever.) Because I really do have a ridiuclously wonderful life, a fact I should be aware of every single hour of the day but which I often forget. It was brought home to me last week, when I met with my publicist to discuss our plans to take over the world in 2006.
First, my publicist, Jessica. She came over to my house. She has, in fact, been coming over to my houses, all my houses, for 24 years. We were best friends before we needed training bras. She has a full-time job (pharmacist) and a family (two ridiculously good-looking kids and a husband who was one of the key-UTEST boys in our high school) and a farm (there were, like, fifty goats last time I counted) and a social life and a gigantic extended family (which I invited myself into about, oh, 24 years ago) and, basically, she is a very busy woman. Despite this, she decided I needed someone to help me do my PR. Since I was doing zero PR at the time, she was prob'ly right. So she started her own PR business and I became her first client. You know, because she didn't have enough to do.
So, whenever I have a meeting with my PR person, it's really a gossipy get-together with my best friend, who managed to get me on the New York Times best seller list twice last year, in between birthing goats and handling life-saving medications.
Then. We sit down and go over all the books coming out in 2006. And, compared to 2005, it's a slow year: only 7 books this year, as opposed to the 11 I had published in 2005. But with fewer books, I have more time to promote, which means lots and lots of road trips.
That reminded me of the second thing to be thankful for: royalties for those 11 books, plus the ones published in 2004, will be coming in all year. And all next year, plus royalties for the 7 books out this year. If I never write another book, my family will do just fine. And that's all I ever wanted: to come home and not have to wonder if the electricity was turned off, or if the kids had to eat crummy boxed mac n' cheese again.
Then we talk about the trips. There are quite a few of them. There's local stuff throughout the year, and out of state trips. The first one is in Ann Arbor, Michigan, as my publisher is sending me to Borders HQ in order to be charming and funny and persuade them (with funny charmingness, I s'pose) to order more of my books.
My agent informed me that this trip was all my fault. "It's your own fault, MJ," he told me cheerfully. "If you hadn't been so charming when everybody met you in New York, they never would have put you on the road to sing for your supper at Borders. You should have been sullen and taciturn, but you were giddy and funny instead." More like drunk off my ass, but whatever.
Next, I'm going to Washington to speak at a writer's retreat, and sign books with Nora Roberts. Yeah. Nora. The greatest most successful romance writer on. The. Planet. I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to be giddy and funny (drunk) in order to have the courage to even be in the same room with her, but that's a problem for the spring. (Will they let me touch her on the arm, do you think? Maybe I could just accidentally brush her sleeve.)
Next, the RT conference in Daytona Beach. Daytona in May! Although, I don't know why I'm excited; at conferences you only see the inside of the hotel. (Jessica was so cute when we were in St. Louis for the last one: "Can we see the Arch?" I laughed and told her, sure, as soon as she could find an hour she didn't know what to do with. We didn't see the Arch.) RT is such a great time, and last year was great, if weird. I'm still not used to seeing crowds waiting in lines to get my autograph (in fact, last year I assumed Laurell K. Hamilton had fallen in the lobby, which explained the hundreds of people milling around...imagine my shock when the coordinator told me they were there for me). Anyway, I'm really looking forward to "working" that week.
June: the book tour. My first book tour! Berkley is kicking off the publication of UNDEAD AND UNPOPULAR by sending me on a 7 city tour of the Midwest: Minneapolis, Chicago, Cincinnati, Indianapolis, Dayton, St. Louis, and Milwaukee. I'm so excited about this, I frequently experience the heartbreak of incontinence. I wish it was June right now.
My parents, hearing about this, promptly offered to drive up (they live in Missouri; I live in Minnesota) and watch the kids so my husband could come with me. They'll either stay in my house with the kids if they have summer lessons, or take them to Missouri to fish and swim and get tan. Either way: I can take off for ten days with my husband, worry-free.
September: Atlanta. I've got a bunch of fans down south, and I really need to do some PR in that area. So I'm going to speak at a small convention, and hit a few book stores to sign books and meet readers. Yay!
October: New York. The DH and I like to go once a year, to touch base with our editors and agents (he writes the Jennifer Scales books with me). And New York, like the song says, is a helluva town.
As of the second week of January, this was my schedule. I expect it to change as I add more events and fall further ass-deep in good luck.
Then my best friend/publicist left, and I flopped down on the couch, popped Wedding Crashers into the DVD player, opened my lap top, and "worked". Getting paid to do something I'd do for free is probably the luckiest thing of all.
So: a day in my fabulous life. I plan to meet as many readers as I can this year. Because my life wouldn't be nearly so fabulous without all they've done for me, and you know that for sure.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Friday, January 13, 2006
Me and Pottery Barn: Jackbooted Thugs
So, it's been a fun week on the World Wide Web. It all started with Angie's memorable last article on author-manipulated reviews (good? bad? discuss.) found here: http://www.romancingtheblog.com/blog/?p=506
It seems a book had gotten a one star review, and the book's author found the review mean-spirited and had Amazon take it down. As a writer, I found the topic fascinating, but dismaying. On the one hand, although I am very fond of the writer in question, I read the review, and although the reviewer didn't pull any punches, neither was the review mean-spirited. It wasn't personal, he didn't call her mother fugly. He sure didn't like her book, though.
And that happens. Hey, I've gotten my nose bloodied a few times by less-than-warm reviews. (Mrs. Giggles, anybody?)
What I found disturbing is that the writer complained to Amazon and they took down the review. Which completely negates Amazon as a credible site where you can read all reviews: the good, the bad, the snarky.
But I've also read a bad review and thought, "If only I could take this woman out for coffee and explain myself. Then she'd like me. I mean, like my book."
So I weighed in on the subject. I suggested writers shouldn't live and die over reviews because anybody can post a review on Amazon and it wasn't worth getting sweaty over.
Interestingly, many, many, many people interpreted this to mean I had joined the Nazi party, lost my tiny little mind, and advocated that only PhD candidates be allowed to review romance novels.
I know. It sounds a little silly, doesn't it? Well. Asinine and absurd, to be blunt. But the really weird part (besides being called "spineless", and a "one note wonder" at Smart Bitches, and "immature" and "shitful" among other things on various other blogs) was that people all over the web took up the fake debate: SHOULD only PhD candidates be allowed to review romance novels?
A shocking number of people said yes. They were trying to defend me, to their credit, but it was still weird. Weirder than that was just this: anybody who knows my background knows I come from a long, proud line of redneck assholes. No college degree. Barely squeaked through high school, truth be told. My parents refused to pay for college because they didn't think I was smart enough to handle the workload. So the last thing I would ever demand is that only the literary elite be allowed to review books.
But all over the web, the debate raged. A few intrepid fans tried to point out that I had obviously been joking, obviously been sarcastic, and obviously didn't think only writers with doctorates in chemical engineering be allowed to review romance novels. To no avail: the debate over the fake question continued.
Dozens of people jumped on comment boards all over the web to mention how immature, stupid, asshole-esque, and generally insane I clearly was. Oh, and my books sucked, too. And even if they didn't suck (which they probably did), vowed never, ever to read one of my books. All because I wanted only PhD candidates to review my books. Which, no one seemed to notice, was not what I wanted, or even said.
I summed it up on Smart Bitches. I couldn't resist jumping in one last time. I posted this:
"MJD the one note wonder here. Someone on this string made a great point: how many blog pages and comments boxes have been used up by writers explaining they don’t pay attention to reviews? Gobs. Which in itself says something, whether we want it to or not. Assuming everyone reading the same posts can agree about what they’re saying, which is far from guaranteed.
"Heck, in various strings, people have read posts and decided: I’m hilarious. No, I’m a rabid foaming bitch who should be gagged, sedated, then shot, probably without a silencer. No, it’s all tongue in cheek. No, it’s mean.
"Or: poor innocent Karen Scott, minding her own business when MJD went off like a mad dog (who should be gagged, sedated, then shot). No, Karen was a jerk and MJD took her down a peg. No, she didn’t. Yes, she did. Shut up. YOU shut up.
"Or: MJD offended everyone in the world, forever. No, she explained herself. No, she didn’t explain; she’s spineless. No, we just didn’t get it. Yes, we did: she’s an arse.
"And: MJD is a jackbooted thug who thinks only PhD candidates should review her books. No, she doesn’t even have a college degree; proof she’s the last person who would think that. Well, maybe, but she’s still a spineless shifty-eyed loser dumbass whore. Well, okay, I’ll give you that one.
"My point, and I do have one (and let’s hope I make this one better than the first one, and whoops, there went my spine, I just slithered into a boneless pile right in front of my screen), is that it doesn’t matter how many posts there are on a topic, how many explanations, how much debate, how much name-calling...people are going to make up their own minds. If they didn’t before they even waded in. If you educate someone, awesome. If you change their mind, great. If you don’t, that’s okay too. Either way: I know a lot more about reviews, reviewers, and Amazon than I did on Monday. And that’s for sure."
That's pretty much my last word on the whole issue, except for this blog, of course. But it's amazing that people who read the same posts had such wildly divergant reactions to them. Whether I'm a literary snob, a jackbooted asshat, or misunderstood, the lesson is clear: be careful what you post, because the debate could rage. And who doesn't love a good argument?
It seems a book had gotten a one star review, and the book's author found the review mean-spirited and had Amazon take it down. As a writer, I found the topic fascinating, but dismaying. On the one hand, although I am very fond of the writer in question, I read the review, and although the reviewer didn't pull any punches, neither was the review mean-spirited. It wasn't personal, he didn't call her mother fugly. He sure didn't like her book, though.
And that happens. Hey, I've gotten my nose bloodied a few times by less-than-warm reviews. (Mrs. Giggles, anybody?)
What I found disturbing is that the writer complained to Amazon and they took down the review. Which completely negates Amazon as a credible site where you can read all reviews: the good, the bad, the snarky.
But I've also read a bad review and thought, "If only I could take this woman out for coffee and explain myself. Then she'd like me. I mean, like my book."
So I weighed in on the subject. I suggested writers shouldn't live and die over reviews because anybody can post a review on Amazon and it wasn't worth getting sweaty over.
Interestingly, many, many, many people interpreted this to mean I had joined the Nazi party, lost my tiny little mind, and advocated that only PhD candidates be allowed to review romance novels.
I know. It sounds a little silly, doesn't it? Well. Asinine and absurd, to be blunt. But the really weird part (besides being called "spineless", and a "one note wonder" at Smart Bitches, and "immature" and "shitful" among other things on various other blogs) was that people all over the web took up the fake debate: SHOULD only PhD candidates be allowed to review romance novels?
A shocking number of people said yes. They were trying to defend me, to their credit, but it was still weird. Weirder than that was just this: anybody who knows my background knows I come from a long, proud line of redneck assholes. No college degree. Barely squeaked through high school, truth be told. My parents refused to pay for college because they didn't think I was smart enough to handle the workload. So the last thing I would ever demand is that only the literary elite be allowed to review books.
But all over the web, the debate raged. A few intrepid fans tried to point out that I had obviously been joking, obviously been sarcastic, and obviously didn't think only writers with doctorates in chemical engineering be allowed to review romance novels. To no avail: the debate over the fake question continued.
Dozens of people jumped on comment boards all over the web to mention how immature, stupid, asshole-esque, and generally insane I clearly was. Oh, and my books sucked, too. And even if they didn't suck (which they probably did), vowed never, ever to read one of my books. All because I wanted only PhD candidates to review my books. Which, no one seemed to notice, was not what I wanted, or even said.
I summed it up on Smart Bitches. I couldn't resist jumping in one last time. I posted this:
"MJD the one note wonder here. Someone on this string made a great point: how many blog pages and comments boxes have been used up by writers explaining they don’t pay attention to reviews? Gobs. Which in itself says something, whether we want it to or not. Assuming everyone reading the same posts can agree about what they’re saying, which is far from guaranteed.
"Heck, in various strings, people have read posts and decided: I’m hilarious. No, I’m a rabid foaming bitch who should be gagged, sedated, then shot, probably without a silencer. No, it’s all tongue in cheek. No, it’s mean.
"Or: poor innocent Karen Scott, minding her own business when MJD went off like a mad dog (who should be gagged, sedated, then shot). No, Karen was a jerk and MJD took her down a peg. No, she didn’t. Yes, she did. Shut up. YOU shut up.
"Or: MJD offended everyone in the world, forever. No, she explained herself. No, she didn’t explain; she’s spineless. No, we just didn’t get it. Yes, we did: she’s an arse.
"And: MJD is a jackbooted thug who thinks only PhD candidates should review her books. No, she doesn’t even have a college degree; proof she’s the last person who would think that. Well, maybe, but she’s still a spineless shifty-eyed loser dumbass whore. Well, okay, I’ll give you that one.
"My point, and I do have one (and let’s hope I make this one better than the first one, and whoops, there went my spine, I just slithered into a boneless pile right in front of my screen), is that it doesn’t matter how many posts there are on a topic, how many explanations, how much debate, how much name-calling...people are going to make up their own minds. If they didn’t before they even waded in. If you educate someone, awesome. If you change their mind, great. If you don’t, that’s okay too. Either way: I know a lot more about reviews, reviewers, and Amazon than I did on Monday. And that’s for sure."
That's pretty much my last word on the whole issue, except for this blog, of course. But it's amazing that people who read the same posts had such wildly divergant reactions to them. Whether I'm a literary snob, a jackbooted asshat, or misunderstood, the lesson is clear: be careful what you post, because the debate could rage. And who doesn't love a good argument?
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