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I’m about to be internet-deprived for a couple of days. The timing is frustrating. After all the time I’ve spent helping the usual gang of SFWA scamhunters gnaw on PublishAmerica—the company I was mainly talking about in Follow the Money—we’re finally seeing some results. The Washington Post has done an article about PA, as has Hillel Italie in the Associated Press. This is from BookZonePro’s version of the story:
Authors Allege Publisher DeceptionA little-known Maryland publisher with a large author list is provoking an outcry from some of those authors, who claim the company engages in practices both gouging and misleading.
The authors charge that Publish America presents itself as a traditional house, but acts like a vanity publisher. Nearly two dozen writers who contacted PW had a range of complaints, including that Publish America sells books to which it no longer holds the rights; offers authors only a 30% discount; doesn’t pay royalties it owes; engages in slipshod editing and copyediting; sets unreasonable list prices; and makes little effort (and has had little success) in getting books into bookstores. PA has been nonresponsive to complaints, said the authors (most of whom have not been published by traditional houses) and refuses to release authors from their contracts.
On top of that, Atlanta Nights has just come out. Here’s my review of it, originally posted at Lulu.com:
The world is full of bad books written by amateurs. But why settle for the merely regrettable? Atlanta Nights is a bad book written by experts.“Travis Tea,” bless his nonexistent little heart, is the umbrella pseudonym of a group of professional authors and editors, mostly drawn from the SF and fantasy field, who each wrote a chapter or two in order to produce a book that superficially resembles a plausible novel, but gets worse the longer you look at it. The finished work was launched in the direction of Frederick, Maryland, where it successfully completed its mission of eliciting an offer of publication from a “traditional publisher.”
Now, through the miracle of the Internet plus digital offset printing, this unique and cherished work can be yours.
The prose is an education all by itself. The chapter numbering has to be seen to be believed. Watch out for the two wildly disparate chapters written by two different authors who were independently working from the same segment of plot outline. Then there are the characters who die in one chapter and wander back into the action in a later one, and the characters that idly change race, gender, and motivation (it was a very sparse plot outline). Space, time, and causality are trifled with shamelessly. The especially beloved and completely incoherent Chapter 34 was written by a text generator that had been fed some earlier chapters.
But the book’s moment of true genius comes, not when one of the characters wakes up and realizes that all of the foregoing chapters were a dream, but when that happens AND THEN THE BOOK CONTINUES ANYWAY.
(Kudos to author James D. Macdonald, wicked mastermind of this group writing project, for coming up with a plot twist that’s even more appalling than the “it was all a dream” ending.)
Buy this book, and guarantee yourself hour upon hour of innocent and educational fun.
Atlanta Nights did indeed begin as a sting operation which a bunch of SF and fantasy writers pulled on PublishAmerica, but it’s also a meditation on the many ways a novel can be bad. It’s available from Lulu.com. And it’s the occasion of my first published fiction—though I’m not going to admit which chapter is mine. Besides, I like Chapter 2 better:
The Atlanta sun slanted low in the west, rain showers predicted for later that afternoon, then clearing. Bruce Lucent looked from the side window of his friend’s shiny Maserati sports car as they wheeled their way westward against the afternoon traffic.“I’m glad you could give me a ride,” Bruce Lucent muttered, his pain-worn face reddened by the yellow sunlight. “What with my new car all smashed and all.”
His old friend, Isadore, shook his massive head at him. “We know how it must be to have a lot of money but no working car,” he said, the harsh Macon County drawl of his voice softened by his years in Atlanta high society. “It’s my pleasure to bring you back to your fancy apartment, and we’re all so happy that y’all is still alive. Y’all could have been killed in that dreadful wreck.” Isadore paused to put on the turn signal before making a safe turn across rush-hour traffic into the parking lot of Bruce Lucent’s luxury apartment building. “Y’all’ll gets a new car on Monday.”
“I don’t know how I’ll be able to drive it with my arm in a cast,” Bruce Lucent shoots back. “It’s lucky I wasn’t killed outright like so many people are when they have horrid automobile wrecks.”
“Fortunately, fast and efficient Emergency Medical Services, based on a program founded by Lyndon Baines Johnson the 36th President of the United States helped y’all survive an otherwise, deadly crash,” Isadore chuckled. He nodded his head toward the towering apartment building, in the very shadow of Peachtree Avenue, where Bruce lived his luxurious life. So young, yet so wealthy, based on his skills as an expert software developer.
“I don’t feel very fortunate,” Bruce complained as his friend helped him from the low-slung red car, “I hurt all over and I don’t remember a thing after I left that bar over on Martin Avenue. I wouldn’t be surprised if the police didn’t want to talk to me about what happened. Not that I could help them because I don’t remember anything” he added as an afterthought.
Isadore pulled the collapsible wheelchair that he’d bought at Saint Irene’s Hospital from the open trunk of his new Maserati and unfolded it on the curb beside where Bruce painfully stood, his recent ordeal only recently over. He helped his chum sit in the new wheelchair, and then pushed it rapidly toward the gleaming doors of the high-rise tower. The soft Southern breeze blew the sweet scent of magnolias over them as he said, “This is certainly something new for me.”
“Never say that,” he replied.
Isadore shook his head, his red ponytail flipping in the soft breeze, as he wheeled his best friend into the lobby, past the uniformed security guard named Amos who saluted them and then into the elevator to the fourteenth floor of the luxury high-rise apartment building, recently built in downtown Atlanta.
The longtime security guard saluted the pair as they passed. What lucky people, he thought, so young and rich, they can afford to live here. Not like me. I have to live across town and wear a uniform and salute the young rich kids who make more money in a minute than I can make in my whole life.
Bruce thought that the dark elevator walls were closing in on him and despite the chill in the air-conditioned air he could still smell the flower smells from outside. The upward elevator started slowly into motion as if it was reluctance to climb the hundreds of feet. “Hurry up,” Bruce cried aloud.
Bruce pounded on the arm of his recently acquired wheelchair as his friend asked “Bruce, what’s the matter? Is y’all so impatient to get home that the elevator is too slow for you? Imagine if y’all had to take the emergency stares in your condition” he chuckled.
Bruce glared at his friend who stood behind him and the wheelchair as the elevator hissed to a halt on the fourteenth floor, the dark paneled doors sliding open with the sound of well-oiled machinery, and then he was pushed by his friend out into the hall and then down to the door labeled 1414, his apartment door.
Bruce searched his pockets for the key that he knew he did not have. “Dammit,” he said, and then, “They kept everything even my wallet at the hospital, how am I going to get it?”
Isadore knocked once at the door, and then it at once swung open. The stunning vision inside, an echo of pulchritude in a bright red dress, seemed to take their breath away, it was Penelope Urbain, Bruce Lucent’s longtime and very beautiful girlfriends. Penelope, who had walked in the door of Lucent Software, asking for a job, and a good thing is being that she did, because he had one for her, a position, so to speak, that only a beautiful woman could fulfill, and she filled the role perfectly, as the beautiful girlfriend for those social occasions when he needed to appear on the front page of the newspaper with a beautiful woman on his arm. Everyone looked and thought he was lucky, but it wasn’t just luck it was planning that he fell in love with this beautiful woman and her with him. He gave her his glance and she gave him hers.
Bruce looked at her and whistled, thanking whatever god was listening that the auto accident that he had apparently been in had spared his family jewels for he wasn’t one to put to pasture his rampant desire for his stunning young woman, at least not yet. He snapped his fingers and snarled, “Take me inside, Isadore, or you’re fired from my software company.”
Something like anger stirred in Isadore’s breast, yet Isadore laughed at Bruce’s favorite joke as he pushed the millionaire software developer indoctrinated by New Agers into the stunning studio apartment that he rented in this exclusive high-rise tower. The walls were white as was the carpet. The walls met the ceiling at right angles, where glistening mirrors in gold frames studded the walls.
Penelope Urbain had been a poor girl she knew, though she pretended to have grown up rich and happy in the suburbs of Atlanta it was all a lie. Now she looked into one of the many mirrors on that studded the walls of her boyfriend Bruce’s apartment and liked what she saw. Two hazel eyes with perky eyebrows, red like the hair of her head and other places, met her smoky gaze in the mirror. She smoothed the hair back from her elfin ears, making it tumble down her back, past her shoulders, broad but not too broad, broad enough to support the luxurious breasts that filled the front of her scarlet sun dress, glowing in the afternoon sun, the hot Georgia orb of fire, that came through the window, as she admired her trim shape and flat tummy, in the mirror. She looked, she thought, like the bad-girl heroine of a tawdry romance novel.
Three guesses who wrote it.
For more info on PA, check out the Neverending PublishAmerica Thread on AbsoluteWrite. Lots of interesting stuff there.
Metafilter picked up the PA sting story yesterday: http://www.metafilter.com/mefi/39054
.... words fail me.
This is one of the funniest things I've encountered in a while.
>Three guesses who wrote it.
I'm going with Yog Sysop, but that may just be the pain from the wincing I was doing speaking.
I know who wrote it, but that's because he confessed to the LBJ reference on another board. :)
That's a beautiful job of looking bad. I think I might ACTUALLY buy Atlanta Nights, just so I can have it as the eternal reference on what not to do.
I'm sure it will be on the next PW and LJ bestsellers list and am purchasing a copy for our library right away.
i'm betting on Yog as well -- i think the "and then" construct gives it away. he could have also used "gray" and "grey" to denote different shades, but that might have confused the poor folks at PA. :)
Darn, that was fast, Connie.
And you know something? Here I am, knowing that's a Bad Book, but still wishing it well and hoping that lots of people buy copies and read it and love it.
That's the basic Author Reaction, the one that PublishAmerica relies on. Thing is, I'm made of stern stuff. I'm not going to buy a hundred copies and try to set up bookstore signings and sell them out of the trunk of my car. Others... the people who went with PA thinking they were a real publisher ... may not have that strength.
If someone wants to buy four copies and send them with fifty bucks to the Pulitzer committee, I won't say no.
(The proceeds from the first 32 copies sold will go to buying an ISBN so this book can be available in brick-and-mortar bookstores from sea to shining sea. All the rest of the profits will go to the SFWA Emergency Medical Fund.)
How many copies have sold so far, do you know?
I've bought one.
... his recent ordeal only recently over.
That says it all, really (and yet, there's so much in there, it's amazing). Thank you for a smile to start my morning.
the afternoon sun, the hot Georgia orb of fire
Awesome. I think I'll write dear Governor Perdue and suggest that as our new state motto. They could squeeze it in on the flag, right under the seal.
Jon Hansen wrote:
Awesome. I think I'll write dear Governor Perdue and suggest that as our new state motto. They could squeeze it in on the flag, right under the seal.
Good idea! It's been at least ten minutes since the last Georgia flag upheaval, so we're overdue for another.
The press release is up now at PRweb. If y'all'll link to that, w'all'll appreciate it.
"It's with mixed feelings that I read the aforementioned text with a fluttery feeling in my solar plexus," said Tom uneditedly.
"Why, I remember, way back, when pens used to jam and skip all the time," said Ed Jones.
"Things sure are different in 1973!" said Bill Smithers, grinning.
(from "An Evening in 1973" by Ed Subitzky, in National Lampoon. Memory filter applied.)
"Naked Came the Stranger" meets "A Man in Full" as executed by students in Bonehead English.
What fun! Does the blurb say anything like: "Bestselling author of 'The Eye of Argon' skewers contemporary society and the software New Economy?"
Jim, remember that, no matter how one ascends to that tectonically questionable escarpment, being a NYT Bestselling Author is Forever.
And it does, regardless of what some have claimed, change your life. My hot flashes are coming about once a week now.
'Scuse me, have to go shopping.
When Karen Funk Blocher, the not-rich, heavilily-in-debt wannabe fantasy writer with the almost accounting degree, first saw an excerpt from Atlanta Nights. She thought I can write worse than that. And she could. Worse than that part, anyway. Typing the two-fingerwed way shed typed since high school at Fayetteville-Manlius High School in Manlius, NY in the seventies (but the high school is still there) she started typing on the computer at work a new IBM something-or-other her boss recently picked up for Worldwide Travel. Its easy, she thought, as the words took up it's box on the screen.
Then she was eaten by a giant sapce goat. Good thing, too.
The end?
Aw, no fair. Come out of that anonymity closet and 'fess up -- which chapter is yours? (I'm Chapter 23 and damn proud of all the sins I committed, hee hee.)
at high school at Fayetteville-Manlius High School in Manlius, NY
Seriously? Me, too! Go Hornets! (Or, err, were we Wasps? No, pretty sure Hornets, despite the school colors of green and white.) Go F-M!
The first comment on the book's page at Lulu says the writers are "sic [sic] and bored" asks "Is this sic [sic] humor?"
Which, of course, makes my day.
Ms Dell said:The first comment on the book's page at Lulu says the writers are "sic [sic] and bored" asks "Is this sic [sic] humor?"
It's no longer the first review from the top. Here it is, in all its glory (well, minus the three thumbs-down icons, because I couldn't cut and paste them), and note that it actually appears to have been edited since the first time I read it, since I can understand it now:
Dislike the principle! by Bobby
Fri 28 Jan 2:46 pm EST 2005
Truly, WELL PROVEN WRITERS HAVE SHOWN THEY ARE ( SIC ) AND BORED. Many new writers use Lulu to start a possible writing carrier. Your thrust at PA shows your uncare as to writers trying to come through by using Lulu. Yes, thank you Lulu for being here.
But, this comical sad offering HIGHLIGHTS THE BOREDOM OF KNOW CREATIVE WRITERS. Is this sic humor? A joke created from over drinking and boredom?
It certainly gets my 3 thumbs down.
You are using Lulu as a joke also...IT SHOWS!
Wow! Your first negative review, folks! How does it feel?
Er...not sure what went wrong there, but the review is everything between "Dislike the principle!" and "IT SHOWS!"
Alex Cohen quotes me:at
high school at Fayetteville-Manlius High School in Manlius, NY
and asks,
Seriously? Me, too! Go Hornets! (Or, err, were we Wasps? No, pretty sure Hornets, despite the school colors of green and white.) Go F-M!
Hornets is right. The school paper was the Hornets' Nest. Class of 1975 here.
In other news, I was not really eaten by a giant space goat.
Each and every one of the contributors to that soon-to-be-classic tome Atlanta Nights should be sentenced to competing in the Kirk Poland Memorial Bad Prose Competition -- n perpetuity or in rotation, depending on the other, er, contestants in a given year.
Audience members are warned to use the bathroom before the competition begins. You might laugh *that* hard.
This is a cogent an example of a forced tour as ever these four eyes has beheld. Oh yes indeed.
The school paper was the Hornets' Nest. Class of 1975 here.
Ah, by the time I went ('88), it was The Sting. I worked on it, clearly the beginnings of a sordid career in writing. The punk intelligentsia's alternative paper was The Stink one year, The Pigbag another, and my senior year it was The Lukewarm: The Average Paper for Mediocre People. Good times.
You know, F-M has its own observatory now?
Umm... back to your regularly scheduled topic.
Oh, how marvelous. Kudos to all the chapter authors . . .
In other news, Karen Funk Blocher? after being regurgatated by the gaint space goat that ate her and then spit her out again which is regurgatation, after that Karen Funk Blocher developd protective amneesia and forgot all about it and denied it ever even happend, which was a good thing since she would have been zapped by death rays while revealing all on the talk show (s) that would have booked her to talk about her bestseeling expoze, How I Was Eaten by a Gaint Space Goat and Spitten Out Again (i.e. Regurtatated).
Leslie-
I bow to your superior awfulness. At least I would, were I not busy forgetting my regurgitation.
Alex--
No, I didn't know that. Haven't been to Manlius in a few decades now. Our alternative rag was the Mycenae Gazelles, edited by the "mayor" of Mycenae.
One correction: we were not all SF and fantasy writers.
At least two minor children of writers, who were not themselves writers, pitched in.
You know, I used to be a good writer. Never so great at fiction, but I could write engaging prose when I needed to, and I had some capacity for observation, and a good ear for pastiche and comedy. True, I never really had much ambition, and never sought to be a novelist, but....
But I look at Atlanta Nights and I think, "God, what control. This is not 'bad' writing--this is a virtuosic display of such fine control over the writer's tools, that, uh, good ... -making ... and ... aw, crap." See? I can't even express the combined sense of delight and dismay reading this makes me feel. I bet there's a word for "combined delight and dismay," and I don't even know it.
Fifteen years of "Enter a value for displacement in the Displacement field and press Enter or click OK" and "HP-UX 11 requires patchset 04112" have totally destroyed my ability to write as a means of self-expression.
Jon Hanson writes (quoting the author of Chapter 2):
the afternoon sun, the hot Georgia orb of fire
Awesome. I think I'll write dear Governor Perdue and suggest that as our new state motto. They could squeeze it in on the flag, right under the seal.
It could also be a good name for the giant tin peach that surmounts the state on the back of Georgia's quarter.
Er...not sure what went wrong there, but the review is everything between "Dislike the principle!" and "IT SHOWS!"
Paragraphs, as determined by blank lines, break <i>talics tags in MT comment boxes. You either need to reasssert them for each new paragraph, or link the paragraphs together using <p>aragraph tags or some such.
"Atlanta Nights" is surely the best piece of bad fiction that I've ever read. And the whole PublishAmerica/sting operation has kept me entertained all week. It's possible that I'm experiencing schadenfreude (sp?) -- I never knew it could be so enjoyable.
Some of my favourite bits:
Chapter 10
A commodious, confident cloak room was standing discretely behind the double door, for coats, but was empty on this lovely, gorgeous, beautiful morning.
Such a lovely sentence!
"I will, and he will," exerted her.
"You won't and he won't," claimed he.
"I will, and he will," remonstrated he.
"You won't," explained she, in an explanatory tone of voice.
Who could fail to love writing of this quality?
The first Chapter 12
Penelope fluttered, her corn flower blue eyes still stuck to the tray.
An image that will stay with me for a long time.
Chapter 34
I am so silky and braid shoulders. At sixty-six, men with a few feet away form their languid gazes.
Actually, the whole of Chapter 34 is a delight, but I particularly loved the beginning of it (when I hadn't quite figured out that it was completely random).
Chapter 41
He slung the handful of pills in an overhand arc toward the direction of the designer wastebasket, watching them soar through the luminous light of the Ptolemies World Classic omnidirectional task light
It's the 'omnidirectional task light' bit that got me -- a very pleasing phrase to say over and over again whilst brushing one's hair.
I'll go now. Just wanted to say 'well done' to the jolly conspirators.
Wow. I am in awe. It ranks up there with Tom Rottemeyer's A Faucet of Disobedience.
Is there any chance of this work of demented genius being published in Britain? (IIRC, Lulu don't ship to Britain). I want a copy.
Gaaaaaaaah!!!! Make the awful pain that's making me scream "Gaaaaaaaaah!" stop!!!
Alex
Oh. My. Lord. I am in tears reading this excerpt. I think I have to buy my own copy.
I have to wonder how much of your typical slush pile looks exactly like this, too.
The breasts were a dead giveaway, Macdonald.
Oh dear.
her corn flower blue eyes still stuck to the tray.
Hybrid grapes, maybe?
n nand the use of "he grinned." I guessed it was Yog.
My special bugaboo: The grinning of whole sentences. Next--the hissing of whole sentences, she admonished.
I declined to play in that minefield, afraid that working hard at such awfullness would stick to my prose style forever. But I am grateful (not to say GREATful) to those with more fortitude. Well done.
Jane
Oh my God, that's just too damn funny.
And next, write an entry for the Eurovision Song Context....
Well done, Travis Tea, Atlanta Nights is surely one of this decade's finest additions to the literary canon.
But I think it's time the guys 'fessed up. You wrote 'The DaVinci Code' too, didn't you?
And now, the back cover of ATLANTA NIGHTS is rich with blurb-a-licious goodness!
Look here to see the blurbs.
The Eye of Argon still slightly wins out in the bad prose stakes, if only because nothing in the whole English language will ever be able to top the line...
“You"; ejaculated the Ecordian in a pleased tone'
...but that was one damn funny bad book. Kudos, especially for stabbing at PA in the process.
Is there any plan to enter this en-mass into the Bulwer-Lytton contest? Would be doubly amusing - and an extra layer of sting on Publish America (yes, I know it's PublishAmerica , but Publish America is the one that really needs googlebombing)
Lulu do ship to the UK - that's where I am, and I've ordered from there before. I have a one to two week wait for my book at the rate I paid for it.
As the footer in today's slashdot reminds us:
"A writer is congenitally unable to tell the truth and that is why we call what he writes fiction."
-- William Faulkner
A little Googling provides attribution, for the above:
"Recalled on his death 6 July 1962"
and refers to the bio in the Columbia Encyclopedia.
"He threw her his glance and she threw him hers."
I think that's rather sweet, really.
I ordered this on Thurs when I saw the link, but Lulu didn't make it easy.
Jim, if you need someone to set the bookstore version, mi quark es su quark.
Please don't make fun of "Naked Came The Stanger", of which of have extremely fond memories. Granted, I was 12 when I found my parents' copy, and if you remember the cover you'll forgive me.
DonBoy:
I'm not making fun of "Naked Came the Stranger." I'm hinting at a common type of "chain story" origin.
In 1969, as an elaborate joke on the book industry, the successful editor Mike McGrady assembled a group of roughly 20 writers to create the worst sex novel in publishing history. Though each member of the conspiracy wrote a chapter independently of the others, the resulting book --published under the pseudonym "Penelope Ash" -- quickly became a national bestseller (over 100,000 copies in hard cover alone).
McGrady's chief instruction to the distributed authorship as: "There will be an unremitting emphasis on sex. Also, true excellence in writing will be blue-pencilled into oblivion."
The parallel is clear! Except, of course, that blue pencils vanished in the blue-pencil mine disaster of 1973, and we have to use word processing software and collaborationware to achieve the same result today.
Anais Nin complained that the man she was writing her erotica for had much the same requirements.
There's a Poetry Contest going on which is apparently inspired by the same sort of urge which struck the authors of Atlanta Nights. In this case, it was a poem submitted to Poetry.com in an attempt to elicit a rejection.
On the Lulu site for Atlanta Nights, there's an option for email that page to a friend. I sure hope that was also permitted for those who weren't considered friends as I'd sure hate to see Larry, Willem, and Miranda miss out on what they're not publishing. Of course, I expect Miranda to make cutting remarks about it.
JvP: Also, true excellence in writing will be blue-pencilled into oblivion.
I recall it quoted at the time as "Any semblance of literary quality will be....", but that may be the amplification of memory.
Note also that NCtS came out when everybody was going ape over trash of which Jacquelyne Susann was probably the highest-quality example. Atlanta Nights has a wider range of targets.
Now I know that those of you who have been giving aspiring authors "permission to write badly" really meant it.
Oh dear God. (I think I'm addressing Cthulhu here, not the unpronouncable tetragram.)
I kept expecting Fafnir, Giblets, and the Medium Lobster to show up. They're certainly vivid enough ...
You guys (I speak in the addressing-the-authors voice) must surely realize that if this does go on to become a national bestseller because everybody in fandom buys a dozen copies, it will raise the bar for the rest of us? And not in a good way.
I wonder if I can get it in sheets? I bind books, and it seems ideal for a hand binding using the finest in non-archival materials and techniques. Wood glue and newspaper. High-acid paper.
Buying it bound and rebinding it would be more trouble than the joke is worth - rebinding perfect bindings is a route to losing the will to live.
I could print out the RTF, of course, but I'd hate to breach copyright on such an important and historical work...
abi, if you want, I could give you permission to print out a copy of the .rtf for personal use, to wit, to make a copy on high-acid newsprint &c.
James,
Yes, please, may I have permission. I promise to do a cross-grained binding on non-archival paper in glorious shades of purple (like the prose). If I get it together in time, I'll even exhibit it at Worldcon. (I'm doing a couple of other bindings for the con anyway.)
Abi, you have permission to make that book. Do you have the .rtf text?
While it's not required, if you feel like making two, and donating one to the SFWA Emergency Medical Fund for auctioning, I would think you had done a good thing.
Oh ... Atlanta Nights has an ISBN now: 1-4116-2298-7
James,
I have the .rtf, yes. I downloaded it off of one of Teresa's links, because I just had to see how bad it was. I am impressed.
I don't think I'll have time to make two in the near future (I bind in my spare time, and I've already committed to doing some work for the con). I'd like to do the bind for the fun of doing it, rather than to end up with another bound book, so a charity auction is an ideal final destination.
So, an alternative suggestion: after Worldcon, I'd be happy to donate the book to the SFWA Emergency Medical Fund for auction. That way I get to do the bind, fill my display space at the art show, fail to lumber myself with another binding, and do something good for charity.
Fab.
May one engage in a preauction for this edition? It will, I am certain, be very handsomely bound indeed.
I would like to hand it on to my grandchildren, right after I advise them that I've left my estate to the cats' home, but that this, if used as a negative template, will teach them all they will ever need to know about writing, and hence will be of far more value than the family estate.
Sealed bids, starting at one hundred dollars, US?
That sounds like a wonderful plan, Abi. I approve wholeheartedly.
Good. I already have a binding style in mind. It will be a half binding (spine and corner pieces in purple leather, remaining cover in purple paper), but in a highly skewed style. I can't bring myself to do a binding whose structure is as bad as the text, so it will actually feel good in the hands, open well, and be readable. I know that this is a failing; I should steel myself to match the nadir achieved by the writers. I admit my unworthiness and apologise most humbly, but make no promise of amendment.
Dave, be aware that I will be using materials that are at best not archivally tested, and at worst archivally hostile, so your grandkids may find it less beautiful than you do. I don't think it will come apart in much under a century (archival techniques aim at about a 400-year life, so falling short is still lasting long), but the paper may yellow well in advance of that.
The adhesives I will be using won't be reversible, either, so future generations will not be able to rebind it easily when it becomes a priceless historical relic.
I presume James (or some other co-conspirator...I mean co-author) will handle the bids. I hope he can arrange for the various contributors to sign it as well. There are clearly some logistics to arrange, but since I need to bind it first, and want to display it at the Worldcon art show in August, these matters are not pressing.
I know that it's at one of these links, but I can't track it down - aren't the proceeds of the Lulu edition going somewhere helpful as well?
julia: Yes, the SFWA Emergency Medical Fund.
Cross-grained high-acid binding? Ouch. Perfect.
If the book becomes a walloping bestseller, we could reissue it with a cover that uses embossing on a human face, then make sure it's embossed slightly off-register. That's guaranteed to look dreadful.
On the subject of Special Presentation Copies:
There's a famous edition of Fahrenheit 451 printed on fire-resistant material and bound in aluminum, the idea being to present it as a fireproof book. Obviously, what is glacé for the goose is flambé for her significant other:
A flash paper edition would be nearly impossible to ship, and Semtex boards would attract attention from many wrong people. Water-soluble paper is printable, however. For the boards, I'd suggest compressed sodium bicarb in a sealant . . . or maybe just plain sodium. Burning Atlanta indeed.
(And I recall that Bill Gibson published a digitally self-destructing chapbook awhile back; Whitmore doubtless has the details.)
Description of Gibson's self-destructing poem, "Agrippa."
Tracina, thank you - I wanted to include that when I linked to the book as a reason to buy it even if you'd already seen the online files, but of course wasn't organized enough to have kept the reference.
That was the Limited Editions Club version of 451, Mike. There was also a small run (200 copies) of the first edition bound in "Johns-Manville Quintera, an asbestos material with exceptional resistance to pyrolysis" -- much scarcer and more valuable. (Trivia question -- what other book had a small limited edition bound in asbestos? It was even a rough asbestos material, much more likely to cause lung cancer [speaking of hostile binding materials!])
It was even a rough asbestos material, much more likely to cause lung cancer [speaking of hostile binding materials!])
La Dame aux Camellias? No, wrong disease.
Tom: Stephen King's Firestarter? (Educated guess, possibly backed up by subconscious memory.)
Mary wrote:
> One correction: we were not all SF and fantasy writers.
> At least two minor children of writers, who were not themselves writers, pitched in.
Oh, they're writers. Not published professionally yet, but they are definitely writers.
Brook, chapter 6 (and much of chapter 28 -- Danica's is the part with the leather chair, the cows, and the Dear Jane letter)
Yes, DavidG, though Mike's answer is much sillier.
Cross-grained high-acid binding? Ouch. Perfect.
No, signature-sewn. (flees)
Tom -- Fahrenheit 451 was also printed on asbestos, though I've never seen one and don't know if it was rough or not.
Particulars of the edition, Janet? I've never heard of that one!
Here are some bookstores with copies of the asbestos Fahrenheit 451 for sale - the listings have some more information. The lowest asking price is $12,500.
Dan, that expired after an hour. I'm perfectly willing to believe that current prices on any asbestos _bound_ 451 are at that level. I'm still curious about ones _printed_ on asbestos material.
Sorry, I missed the distinction. I can't find any information on an edition printed on asbestos other than offhand comments, so I am a little skeptical. One comment says that Vanderbilt's rare books collection had a copy, so they might have some information.
I've been sore tempted to use exerpts from Atlanta Nights in my undergrad writing class. Alas. I tried them on some shorts from the Bulwer-Lytton Contest site (www.bulwer-lytton.com), and they were unamused.
They actually tried to defend the creativity and vividness of the following:
“With listeners leaning over the velvet restraining ropes and angling for pictures, John Glenn urged them to remember Shepard's 1961 Redstone flight in its political context, when the Soviet Union was seducing world opinion with the lingerie of Earth-orbiting technology.”
They're clearly not ready for the apogee of badness that is your estimed production. Again, alas.
If the book becomes a walloping bestseller, we could reissue it with a cover that uses embossing on a human face, then make sure it's embossed slightly off-register. That's guaranteed to look dreadful.
Can you do one of those cut-out things too?
This, um, work is screamingly funny. I do not know who wrote this line, but I'm halfway through and it's still my favourite:
Her cheeks were almost as red as her hair already, like red Delicious apples under green leaves which were her eyes and the dark pupils were like little curled up caterpillars in the middle.
Does anyone know how many copies have sold as of today? I know a few days ago it was standing at 45 copies, I was just wondering if the sales picked up.
As of right now it's sold 103 copies. It's been selling at the rate of about ten a day.
You do realise, don't you, that at 103 copies, you're already selling at about PA's average? I don't suppose this is a record - plenty of their authors (aka 'customers') probably buy that many for distribution to hapless friends and relatives - but it may be a record for actual sales to persons unrelated to the author.
PA's average sales (I don't know for sure, but I've calculated this from open sources in several different ways) is 75 copies/title.
We're doing much better (and it's now 107 copies).
Amount spent to publish this book: $0.00
Amount spent to publicize this book: $0.00
The egg on PublishAmerica's face: Priceless
I am new to the writing market, I saw Publish America on an attached link. I guess by the sound of it, Publish America would not be a good source to consider. I just found out about poetry.com/International Library Of Poetry after the fact, I spent thousands of dollars and I am so disappointed to say the least. Has anyone had any dealings with poetry.com?
There are people who've had dealings with poetry.com, though I don't think you'll find them here.
Poetry.com is notorious.
Their MO is this: Everyone who writes a poem is a "winner." For an exorbitant rate, they'll sell you however many copies of the book with your poem in it that you want.
The only print as many as they get preorders for. Printing the book costs far less than they charge. Since the book isn't sold anywhere else, not distributed, not in any bookstores, not in any libraries, it's a pretty meaningless thing.
Poetry.com and PublishAmerica have the same business model: Both make their money by selling overpriced volumes to the authors themselves.
Travis Tea now has an official homepage: http://sfwa.org/members/TravisTea/
He's also campaigning for a Hogu.
Oh, how I long for the day when the fanfic link doesn't return a 404.
mistri: can I ask how much shipping to the UK cost you...?
Ray Radlein,
The fanfic link is working fine now. :-)
And so are all the other www.travistea.com links.
Go look, enjoy! Plenty of goodies, and we're almost done with the whole site.
Also see what Cory Doctorow posted on boingboing.net about the Viennese net.artists Monochrom's hoax:
"...we decided to send Georg Paul Thomann to Brazil. Who is Georg Paul Thomann? He is a fictitious 57-year-old Austrian avant-garde artist. We wrote his complete biography (around one hundred pages) and asked fellow artists, writers and pop theorists to write articles about his life and work, which were published as the catalogue of the exhibition...."
OMG! i just read the fanfic page!!!! it rox!!!!!
Tracina: Marry me?
"It's the 'omnidirectional task light' bit that got me -- a very pleasing phrase to say over and over again whilst brushing one's hair."
LMAO...that has to be one of the funniest things i have heard in a while... :P
KL
Thanks much for the heads up on PA. I, being a naive, never-before-published writer was seriously considering them until I typed the name into Google and came upon this site and a multitude of others!
You just averted a disaster and I thank you for it. A writer's dream should never be taken advantage of by people like PA. Then again, there is the age-old adage that "if it looks too good to be true, it probably is". Good advice still, I guess.
Any suggestions on a place to learn more about the publishing world so I don't make a bad choice in publishers???
OMGosh: some of the threads right here on this website are a good place to start. :-) Start with Displaced Advice from Jan 13, and read the stuff linked to from the entry at Neil Gaiman's blog.
Also, SFWA has some excellent advice pages. They're aimed at science fiction and fantasy writers, but much of the advice is applicable to all fiction writing.
The Speculations Rumor Mill is a good place to ask questions, and a search through the archives may turn up information on specific publishers and agents. Ditto the water cooler at Absolute Write.
There's also Preditors and Editorsfor background information on a lot of publishers and agents.
Beth: *gasp* Oh, do you mean it? Do you really mean it? Because *sniffle* of course I will! Yes, yes, I will! You've made me so happy! *sniffle* *sniffle*
Logistics may be tricky, of course, given that my husband reminded me that we'll need to find a town in the state of Connecticut that has a relaxed attitude towards multiple marriage partners. But we shall overcome!
*sniffle* I'm so happy.
Tracina: Silly duck, of course I mean it. And whilst I agree the marriage laws are a tricky point, the more important matter concerns the zoning regulations. Happily, our property can accommodate your horses. Think of it, my dear -- the horses, the (limited) countryside, the sweet summery days spinning new fanfic tales for Travis Tea...
i was perpexedly unshaven regarding this here stuff what with the bald face lies and all and then laughed with my outh wide open
Beth:
...turning the perfectly enormous manure pile and dreaming of Travis...
i have gotten to chap 23 and very much appreciate your literary efforts but will not be able to continue reading until i stock up on some Detrol and Depends.
there's no author listed for 12b. I would very much appreciate being informed as to who wrote it because i found it quite exceptional in a book in which it goes without saying in which every chapter has its own very extremely exception quality.
I must be among one of those more fortunate and intelligent writers. I'm only 13, but I've studied and researched extensively on the publishing industry, the markets, the craft, etc., for quite some time now.
Even I, barely even a teenager, could easily call PublishAmerica a downright sinister vanity publisher from just a look at their website. I am just appalled that thousands of aspiring authors twice or more times my age can fall for such trash, and without researching the markets, industry, and craft.
Though many of you will probably outright say that I must not know anything about the business of writing, I personally believe that I am well on my way and that I have a significant amount of knowledge in the field. But to get back on track, -Atlanta Nights- is a classic! That alone proves PA's phoniness, and my-oh-my it was such a painful read; I couldn't get past the first chapter to experience all the other inconsistencies, like the frequently-mentioned gender-changing instances supposedly present in the book.
How could these PA writers be so gullible and stupid?! Now that they're becoming more notorious, I'd just love to email PA with a lovely little computer virus to their damned computers! Would serve -them- right!
I know, I don't fit in as well with people my own age. Though I -am- interested in popular culture and contemporary culture, everyone else my age spends their spare time playing video games. So I ended up being the stray, odd-interests teenager who talks to people twice, thrice, quadrupled, etc. my age. I hang out in the Critters critique group, SF/F/H/writer/editor messageboards, writing craft webpages, and market guidelines webpages. And all I think about is writing and SF (there's other things too, but... you know?).
Sorry for the sudden ramble. The writing world is just where I have people with similar interests that I can talk to and get to know.
Sincerely,
Alan
Alan Yee said: Even I, barely even a teenager, could easily call PublishAmerica a downright sinister vanity publisher from just a look at their website. I am just appalled that thousands of aspiring authors twice or more times my age can fall for such trash, and without researching the markets, industry, and craft.
The thing you have to bear in mind is that up until very recently it was almost impossible to find anything negative about PublishAmerica on the internet. The writers who are currently with PA would have signed their contracts months ago, when there was very little (if any) bad publicity about the company. Don't be too hard on them.
Of course, people really have no excuse now not to know how awful PA is -- but you have to bear in mind that not everyone is as comfortable with using the internet for research as you might be. I can imagine that my mother, for example, would never think of googling on "PublishAmerica" before signing up with them.
The good work being done by our esteemed hostess and others is the main reason that you can now easily find the truth about PA on-line.
Hrrd, pr stb t ny cmprhnsbl wrtng. wldn't rcmmnd ths bk t nyn. t s shm tht wrtng hs cm t ths typ f trsh.
Hey, look at that. See the nasty drive-by? Someone's started a thread about Atlanta Nights on the PublishAmerica message board. We'll probably see more like this before it's over.
Gullible? Yes, I suppose so, but the common writer's feeling is "I love my book." When someone comes along and says "I, too, love your book," the instant response is "Joy! This fellow is a capital fellow; discerning and honest!"
Stupid? No. Remember the people who put together PublishAmerica are good at what they do, and what they do is play on people's dreams. They use half-truths, weasel-words, and outright lies to create an impression. Even folks who otherwise are fairly canny can be taken in, especially if they don't know much about publishing to start with. Tell someone what they want to hear, and they'll believe you.
Take a dose of wishful thinking, add a drop of ego-stroke, and you have a recipe for sucking in folks who, in any other area, are pretty darned shrewd.
===============
Horrid,A poor stab at any comprehensible writing. I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone. It is a shame that writing has come to this type of trash.
I entirely agree. Atlanta Nights sucks with a loud sucking sound. It sucks so hard that it removes all the air from small rooms. Why in the world would any reasonable, responsible publishing company offer a contract to that piece of borderline-illiterate garbage?
Alan:
You write amazingly well for a thirteen year old.
I've been researching the market for novels for years before I was ready to send out any queries. So i sometimes fall into the trap of thinking, "Why the hell do people believe this stuff?"
What I have to remind myself is that many writers finish a story and grab their copy of Writer's Market. Market books like that make them think the research has already been done for them, that they can trust what's in the book absolutely.
They don't actually look into how publishing works, or why. If they join a writing community, it's mostly for the social aspects, and it's only later they start to notice there's more to the business side of publishing than they realised. This is why you get naive seeming questions like "Why Courier?" or "Why can't we submit by e-mail?" not just from newbies, but from people who are quite proficient at the prose side of writing.
That msot writing classes and critique groups focus on the prose and not the business probably doesn't help.
Someone on another forum suggested another good reason; we're taught that you can't get something for nothing. So when they're told they should pay a publisher up front, or have to pay their own copyright, or have to do all their own promotion, they think it makes sense. It doesn't sound like a scam unless you've looked into how publishing works.
It doesn't occur to them that they already paid their share by the effort of writing a novel-length manuscript. It doesn't feel like work, at least not the 'paying your dues' kind of work.
Nor do they register that the "publisher" is now, in their turn, trying to get something for nothing by not doing editing or promotion, or paying for the copyright.
Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so cruel. I guess I didn't think long enough before posting. "Stupid" was too harsh of a word...
Anyway, now that I can see it from a more sympathetic POV, I feel bad for the PA authors who just innocently wanted to fulfill their dreams. I always feel so bad for people who are misled and taken advantage of.
I still have to agree that Atlanta Nights is a classic though ;)
That was generously said, Alan.
Yeah, I wouldn't have been that generous - about ANYTHING - when I was that age. Nor would any of my agemates.
Alan, you've astonished us all. Keep writing!
Hey, you probably all know this already, but this month's Locus magazine has a little article about PA and Atlanta Nights.
>That was generously said, Alan.
>Alan, you've astonished us all. Keep writing!
Yeah, I'm not one of those stereotypical-teens who don't care about anything and have no sense of morals or feelings. "Fitting in" used to be almost impossible for me, but now I at least fit in halfway... As for the mix of reading, writing, SF/F, and popular music/movies, I truly think it makes people more sociable and accepting me now. Now if only I could create the right mix of all that...
School has interfered with my train of thought on writing. I know that school is necessary and crucial, so hopefully after college, I can get a job that's roughly connected to books and writing. It _would_ be cool to have a job as a paid slush reader; or maybe not, since I do know Carina Gonzalez of RoF reads slush for free. Even if it was unpaid, I would still live with it if I had the opportunity for the position (though being paid to be involved in SF/F would be nice too...).
More realistically, however, I just MIGHT be a noticed and accepted member of the SF/F writer circles... though I might not get rich or sell enough to write full-time. Of course I have higher-up dreams, but my first goal is to have any old SpecFic reader, writer, or editor to be able to say, "Hey, that's Alan Yee..."
I hope everyone reading this realizes what kind of a kid I really am. My bookshelves are literally crammed with everything imaginable. In fact, right by my computer or readily accessible in my room are the following books/collections (read at your own risk, because a 13-year-old reading all these may be shocking to some): Anne Rice, Anne McCaffrey, Dune, Tolkien, Realms of Fantasy (April '05 issue), the first 4 F&SF issues of '05, Cemetery Dance #50, Feb-Apr '05 issues of Writer's Digest, the 2 most recent Writers of the Future anthologies, Writing Science Fiction & Fantasy (by Gardner Dozois, Stanley Schmidt, and Sheila Williams), Strunk & White's The Elements of Style, and the 2 most recent volumes of The Year's Best Fantasy & Horror.
Sorry if this shocks some of you. This is isn't "normal" for kids. But then again, what is "normal" in a world of crazy psychos and crazy "dictators of normalities"?
Another precaution: as you probably have noticed, I tend to ramble and keep talking until all my thoughts and insights are revealed (hence another long post by Alan Yee).
Alan Yee:
Don't stop. People have been telling me all my life that I "tend to ramble and keep talking..."
Eventually, they started buying what I submitted, paying me to give keynote speeches, and allowing me to teach several thousand people in classrooms.
I am still, after the age of 50, learning how to maintain the balance between saying what I want and not saying more than an audience wants to hear.
My first professional sale was a crossword puzzle for a Science Fiction Book club ad, which paid about $200, when I was 12. The Science Fiction and Fantasy community has people who started selling younger than that.
The sky is not the limit.
Don't stop.
Alan, if you think school interferes with your writing, you might give some thought to home schooling. If you are as responsible and self-motivated as you sound, and if your family can afford it, there are decent distance-ed programs out there that lead to a high school diploma -- without the lockstep social indoctrination programs of your typical public school. Check out the University of Oklahoma Independent Learning High School at http://ouilhs.ou.edu/; that's where my daughter's taking her classes. There are lots of otheres out there, too.
I hope everyone reading this realizes what kind of a kid I really am. My bookshelves are literally crammed with everything imaginable. In fact, right by my computer or readily accessible in my room are the following books/collections (read at your own risk, because a 13-year-old reading all these may be shocking to some): Anne Rice, Anne McCaffrey, Dune, Tolkien, Realms of Fantasy (April '05 issue), the first 4 F&SF issues of '05, Cemetery Dance #50, Feb-Apr '05 issues of Writer's Digest, the 2 most recent Writers of the Future anthologies, Writing Science Fiction & Fantasy (by Gardner Dozois, Stanley Schmidt, and Sheila Williams), Strunk & White's The Elements of Style, and the 2 most recent volumes of The Year's Best Fantasy & Horror.
In other words, you're a fan. You should have seen my collection of stuff when I was 13. SF was "kid stuff," you see, so the explicit sex scenes in some of it got right past my parents...not that they would have censored anyway; my mother bought me Dhalgren when I was 17.
And if you think that's a long post...well. There are certain others here who. Well. I think I'll stop now.
Alan, what you need to know is that your reading list and your concerns are normal for 13 year olds. I had a similar reading list at 13: so did the nice fellow I married, and both our brothers, and our children, and their friends. There is a whole world of people out there who are just similar enough to share with and different enough to be interesting. A friend of my mother's told me that someday I'd turn a corner and there'd be someone who understood all my references and could top them all, and it did happen, in 10th grade.
Are you in middle school or high school at this moment (at your age it could be either, depending on how your district allocates the grades, when your birthday is, etc.)? If you're not in high school yet, know that it usual
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