"Honey, the Plumber Needs $25,000. In Cash."

As many of you know, I favor legalization of drugs. (Because why should thugs and psychopaths be earning all the profits. I want some of it in my government coffers.) 

And unless you're truly uninterested in the issue, you know that the legal landscape of marijuana  is changing damn near daily. 

And those changes come with with complications, legal and monetary. I read about those daily, but this one grabbed my attention. Read. Weep. 

You! Yes, You. The Long-time Reader

This is for you. As you've likely noticed, I've been futzing with the site design, trying to figure out how to create a Janus-headed creature: promote the book and do my rant stuff, too. So I've created a new category --- The FUN Stuff --- which is code (it's a secret club! woo hoo!) for "All that random stuff I prefer blogging about. Which is a crap sentence but you get my drift.

I'll cross-post the content to other categories but the category will appear as a "page" in that header running horizontally about a third of the way down the initial screen. (Ha! How the hell could I know if it's a third or a quarter of a whatever given that I have no idea how your browser will present the front page.)

I thought about just using the existing "Random musings" category (and why did I not capitalize both words?)  -- or finally caving to my desire for a "Random Rants" category. But the random stuff I like is --- well, random. Not necessarily a rant. Rants being special.

Anyway. So you know.

And notice: NO GODDAMN IMAGE. I hate hunting for images. Ugh.

But Hey --- Since I'm "Here" (Illustrated!)

By the way: book update: The copyedits happened last month. Dealing with copyedits is my least favorite part of the production process, so I was glad to get that over.

Last week, I proofread the galley (what was my typed manuscript now formatted and laid out as it will appear in "print" with the fonts, the spacing, the page numbers, etc.) (NB: the images you see here include some technical, page-setting stuff that will NOT appear in the final book.)

Proofreading involves reading the entire manuscript, word by word, out loud, starting with the last word in the manuscript. (Because reading it from start to finish means the text makes sense and thus it's too easy to read quickly and miss a typo).

This week is my favorite part of the production process: creating the index. For reasons that aren't clear to me, I'm a superb indexer. That's not a boast. Rather, it's a statement of weird, weird fact about me. Ask any writer of books and odds are that he/she will shudder at the idea of creating an index.

Not me. There's something about the process that I find satisfying and challenging and immensely creative. What can I say? I'm a sick twisted soul.

This part of the process is very much deadline-driven. Stuff MUST be completely on schedule. MUST. BE. So I've had my head down.

Once I send the index back to the production editor (most likely next Monday, July 15), I won't see my baby again until the UPS guy pulls up to my house in late September, early October with a box full of books. So this is it: The end of a seven-year process.

And yes, it ends not with a bang but a whimper. Of relief and a certain amount of sadness. BUT: I've got this idea in my head, one that's been rolling around in there for about a year and so on Monday after I hit "send," I'll be thinking about my next project.

It's something about . . . yoga and alternative technology and capitalism and craft beer and the 1970s and 1980s . . .  well, something like that . . . . We shall see!

What's On My Mind? Reading. Weeping.

I added an UPDATE below (see *3) to clarify a point raised on Twitter. Three essays/op-eds danced through my Twitter stream this morning --- all of the in the "read it and weep" category (of which, in my opinion, there's entirely too much these days....) (*1) (But that's the essence of the human experience since we stood upright, right?)

First, this piece from the New York Times about the (truly) uncertain future of Barnes & Noble. That's on my mind because, well, I write books and . . .  well . . . . It's not clear that B&N will survive another year and if it goes the way of Borders, then the business and art of selling books in the United States is going to change dramatically. There aren't many "independent" bookstores left (and I weep for none of them, frankly) but Borders and B&N brought books to millions of Americans who'd never had access to bookstores. (*2)

Including me: I live in Iowa in a small town. I was thrilled nearly to tears when Borders opened a store in the Big Town (that would be Des Moines) about 30 miles from where I lived. I'd never really shopped at a bookstore before (because, ya know, I didn't have access to one). When I'd visit NYC, I'd always visit bookstores (including Barnes & Noble, which was born as a university bookstore near Union Square).

The high-minded "writers" who complained so loudly about the rise of Borders and B&N were talking out of their asses, as far as I was concerned. "The Big Box Booksellers are destroying small bookstores!" "The BBB are destroying literary culture in the U.S.!"

Bullshit. Borders and B&N brought "literary culture" to millions of people. Millions and millions of them.

Now, if B&N falls, the vast majority of Americans will have only one viable place to buy books: Amazon. I'm not sure that's such a bad thing. I've never complained about Amazon: from day one, it offered readers more books than Borders and B&N and has consistently provided great customer service.

But it IS an online shop. We can't wander around there and, ya know, browse. Well, okay, that's not true. I browse wide and deep at Amazon. It's "buyers who bought" is fabulous. Amazon? Love. It.

But: If Amazon is the only game in town, it will be able to do what it's already doing: play hardball with publishers. More than one book publishers has had its hands smacked by Amazon when they didn't play by Amazon's rules. Smacked as in: Amazon has pulled that house's books from Amazon's digital shelves.

The other issue is the one that more directly concerns me: visibility on Amazon. If that's the only place to buy my book, well, I gotta hope Amazon doesn't decide to get pissy with my publisher. If it does, I'm fucked. Royally. And I won't enjoy it.

Read-it-and-weep  no. 2 today is related: An op-ed piece, also in the New York Times, about the merger of Penguin and Random House (new name: Penguin Random House, not, sadly, Random Penguin). (Get it??) The relevant hanky line in the piece is this:

companies either forbid (as at Penguin) or restrict (at Random House) their constituent imprints from bidding against one another for a manuscript.

Translation: If one editor at Penguin Random House, now the largest trade publisher in the world, doesn't want your manuscript, chances are that you're screwed. Sigh.

Read-it-and-weep no. 3 is, happily, a change of subject: This piece by Henry I. Miller at Forbes on eco-terrorism.

For about a year, I wrestled with the whole "is genetic engineering good or bad." After a great deal of research and reading, I concluded that the Frankenfoods-GMOs will destroy the planet rap was complete bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. It's yet another example of many people falling for a line of BS without bothering to check the facts. (Because, ya know, it's SOOOO much easier to simply blame Monsanto for everything that's wrong with the world, and facts be damned.)

Wierdly, thus far I've not seen any solid journalistic research into what Miller outlines here: the money path between the "Monsanto is evil" and the sponsors of that message. This is an area ripe for investigation. (I suspect that the reason it's not been excavated is because, sadly, "mainstream media" has fallen hook, line, and sinker for the "Monsanto is evil line" and because so many journalists already honor the "corporations are to blame for every. goddman. thing. that's wrong with the world.") (Alas.)

So. That's a bit of what's on my mind: Read-it-and-weeps 1 and 2 because I've got a new book coming out; and no. 3 because said book has led me down the rose-strewn path of food politics, which is waaay more complicated than I would have expected. (And since I didn't expect its complexity, yeah, I'm a fool.) (Sigh.)

________________

*1: Mock Twitter all you like, but the fact is that it's an amazing way to sift through the bajillions of pieces of information and reporting and writing and ideas about there.

*2: I have zero patience with the "Oh, independent bookstores must be saved" claptrap. My experience, admittedly limited, is that most indie booksellers are either a) totally incompetent and deserve to go out of business; or grade-A assholes --- snobby and condescending and rude (presumably because they view themselves as arbiters of culture as well as gatekeepers of literary culture) --- and so also deserve what they get.

*3: a friend tweeted a link to this post and one of his followers on Twitter is a bookseller who was, justifiably, dismayed by what he described as my vitriol toward indie bookstores.

So let me clarify: My stance toward indies is based on my experience as a CONSUMER/SHOPPER, not as an author.

As an author, frankly, I have no opinion. Small bookstores have limited shelf space and they're likely to not bother with small books like mine. That's a fact of life. The kinds of books I writer, and my lack of reputation, means I'm a waste of space for them. I don't hold that against them. They're in business to make money, and authors like me don't make money.

What I don't like is how I, as a potential customers, am typically treated in indie bookstores (and I might add that this  holds true for "small," "local" "Main Street" businesses in general): like an idiot, like a nuisance and a bother.

Here's one example: There's an indie store in Des Moines, the closest "big city" to where I live (Ames, Iowa). When the beer book came out, I went to that store, hoping maybe I could talk the owner into hosting a reading (my rationale being: I'm an Iowan, I'm local).

So I go into the store and here's what I was "greeted" with. There were two employees there. One was leaning against a wall talking on the phone. It was clear she was talking to a friend, not a customer. The other employee was slouched in a chair, playing a computer game. Neither one of them so much as looked in my direction (there were no other customers in the store). And I mean: neither of them even glanced up or at me. Had this been the first time this has ever happened to me in an independent store of any kind, I'd dismiss it as an aberration.

But this happens ALL. THE. TIME. in small, local shops, bookstore or otherwise. I browed the shelves for several minutes, thinking that perhaps one of them would, ya know, acknowledge their customer. Nope. I left. I've never gone back.

Here's another example: For awhile, there was an indie bookstore here in Ames where I live. When the Key West book came out, I went in hoping to persuade the owner to host a signing or reading. The employee on duty was headed to the backroom when I came through the door. She turned around, glanced at me, and then headed to the back. Not a word. No hello. No nuthin'.

Then there's the Very Famous Bookstore in Iowa City. Oy. Do I hate going there. In fact, I no longer do when I'm in IC. The clerks are staggeringly, shockingly rude and condescending. I don't know what kind of person they want in the store, but apparently it's not regular people. (Maybe scruffy, dreamy-eyed writer types from the Workshop??)

And these are only a few of the examples I could rattle off. Have I been to decent, welcoming indie bookstores? Yes. There's one in Boulder that's a total delight. And one in Santa Cruz, too. But mostly: they're a must to ignore. And again, my view is that of a customer (in the case of the first two examples, no one bothered to find out why I was there).

The Real Deal, Not the Fake One, Part II. Aka Fuck You, Writer-Advice-Givers.

NOW I remember why the title of the previous post. Crap. Brain mush is more advanced than I thought. Yes. Photo. Okay.

So I got new headshots, as they're called, taken for the new book. (And why not? The last ones are seven years old and more than a bit misleading because, well, I'm seven years older . . .  Makes sense to me.)

The People Who Dole Out Advice To Writers (and their numbers are legion and I have no use for their ilk) ALWAYS tell writers: Get a professional headshot taken. And wear makeup. Or at least the women are supposed to wear makeup. Not the men. The women. (*1)

To which I say: Meh. I don't own any makeup. I wore it for about two weeks in eighth grade (at the suggestion of my mother, who also more or less ordered me to a) curl my hair so it would straighten; and b) wear a girdle. (This was the 1960s. I weighed about 100 pounds and was 5'9" at the time. I mean seriously? One of my few acts of teenage rebellion ensued.)

Anyway: here's the photo. This, friends, is what real women look like when they're not photoshopped, airbrushed, or whatever. They look ---- real. And this is what OLD women look like (I'll be sixty in a few months.)

So to the rest of the world with its "wear makeup" advice, I say: Fuck you.

______________

*1: Random point worth making: EVERYONE on TV is wearing makeup: men, women, kids. Lots of it. It's one reason I hate doing TV. I don't like wearing makeup and don't know how to put it on and usually there's not a pro on hand to do it. And nowadays if one doesn't wear makeup on TV, one looks roughly forty years older than one is and no, I'm kidding. It's the high definition cameras that do it. An HD camera can make a 20 year old look like she's at least fifty. And that's really distracting.