Stacia Kane

And I’m all in a tizzy. Part of me thinks it’s a great book, part of me is convinced everyone will hate it, that the dialogue I thought was sharp and clever will just sound stupid, etc. etc. But it comes out on Wednesday anyway and I am very, very excited!

So not much of a post today. Tomorrow I’m blogging over at Bam’s (although I have no idea what to blog about, so if you want to suggest a topic that would be great!) So you can read a real post from me there tomorrow, because today I’m taking advantage of this last chance to urge everyone to join my Yahoo group! Joining enters you in a conest to win a free release-day copy of the book, so don’t be shy!

And here’s another little excerpt too. Julian and cecelia are dining together, and he’s just offered to let her stay at his house to protect her from the vampires who want her dead:

“I guess I don’t have much choice, do I?”
“We all have choices. You just only have one right choice.”
“I still don’t really trust you. I don’t think you’re a very nice man.”
“Do I have to be?”
She considered it. “I guess not, although I’d probably enjoy staying with you more if you were.”
“My dear,” he said, leaning in closer. “I seriously doubt that.”
This time she couldn’t hide her response. Heat flowed through her, blood rushing to her face.
He continued speaking in the same soft tone. “I somehow don’t think that a nicer man would be man enough for you.”
Her mouth was too dry to speak. She looked down, aware that by not answering she had answered him in the most eloquent way possible.
She could feel his gaze on her, almost as if his hands were caressing her. Soft and cool, running across her taut, sensitive nipples, making her gasp as her eyes closed involuntarily.
“You look stunning when you do that,” he said quietly. His voice caressed her too, sliding down her bare arms. “Beautiful enough to make an army of men fall to their knees.”
The compliment made her even warmer, but she opened her eyes. “You?”
He smiled a wistful smile that made him look younger. “I’m only one man. It’s nearly enough to kill me.”
He wasn’t joking. The knowledge made Cecelia a little weak herself.
“If you won’t let me die,” she said, surprised at how breathy her voice was, “I won’t let you die, either.”
“As tempting as dying from the beauty of you is,” he said, “it’s a deal.”
She nodded. “Can I call my lab assistant and let him know where I am?”
He was thoughtful, switching quickly back from “Julian the Romantic” to “Julian the Businesslike”. “No, but you can tell him you’re staying with a friend. Make something up so he won’t expect you at work. But don’t give away your location.”
“I don’t think all this is entirely necessary.” She was trying to trust Julian, but he wasn’t making it easy.
“Then you are far less intelligent than I have given you credit for.”
She sighed. Just when she was starting to feel all warm and squishy toward him, he turned that acid tongue on her again and reminded her that underneath the sex appeal was a viper. An intriguing viper, but one who could still hurt her. “You really are an asshole, aren’t you?”
“I prefer to think of myself as a realist. And realistically, your naiveté will get you killed before you even have a chance to see it coming.” She opened her mouth to speak but he held up his hand, stopping her. “No, Cecelia. You know a lot about what you do. This is what I do. Please give me credit for knowing how to do it.”
“You’re asking a lot from me.”
“Yes, I am. But I’m offering you your life in return. Either your life is important to you or not. Either you want to live or not. Honestly, I don’t imagine you want to die, even though your life is terribly dull.”
“It isn’t.”
“It is. But that’s not the point.”
“We’re getting awfully close to that cab, Julian.”
He rubbed his eyes with his thumbs, his face hidden. The gesture was at once vulnerable and masculine, and for some reason Cecelia felt a rush of triumph. He really didn’t want her to leave. She could feel how much he wanted her to stay, sense it like a living thing.
He didn’t want to give in to her, though. He wanted to say whatever the hell he wanted—he was obviously used to saying whatever the hell he wanted—without repercussions.
Arguing with him may have felt like some kind of bizarre foreplay that both pissed her off and turned her on, but Cecelia had a line. He wasn’t going to cross it, no matter how beautifully he complemented her or how attracted to him she was. The sooner he learned that, the better.
“Please don’t go,” he bit out, his face still hidden by hands that now massaged his forehead as if he had a headache. “I will try not to insult you by implying that your life is boring.”
“That’s a little better,” she said, enjoying herself now.
Until he looked up and caught her smiling. He narrowed his eyes. The deep color of them seemed to intensify, darker and darker, leaving her breathless. “Now you are smirking,” he said.
She stood her ground. “Yes.”
He surprised her by shrugging and pouring some more wine into his glass. “As long as you admit it. Enjoy your little victory, my dear. It may be your last.”
“I bet it won’t.”
He smiled. “I’ll take that bet.”
“What does the winner get?”
His smile grew wider. “Whatever they want, shall we say?”
She knew she shouldn’t agree to it, but honestly, she didn’t care. All night her heart had been beating below her waist and she was tired of trying to pretend that she didn’t want him as badly as he seemed to want her. “Fine.”
“Excellent.” He looked far too pleased with himself to make her comfortable.
Cecelia blushed and looked away, catching the eye of their waiter. He was leaning against the wall, glaring at them. “I think we should go,” she said. “Our waiter looks ready to kill us.”
“It is a bit late, isn’t it?” Julian took her hand. “Shall we go back to my place?”
The innuendo was so heavy that she laughed. “My mother warned me about men like you,” she said.
He raised one eyebrow. “Come with me,” he said, kissing her hand. “I’ll show you why she was right.”

So go on! You know you want to read it! And I’ll announce the winner nice and early, so there will be plenty of time for you to buy the book if you don’t win.

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The Honeymoon Period

I see the same sad story all the time, and so have you if you’ve spent any time in writing communities.

A new publisher opens. Their site looks good, they post Calls for Submissions in all the big places, they seem intelligent and enthusiastic.

Writer X sends them a book, and it’s accepted. Instantly, whenever this publisher–let’s call them Books of Love, because I don’t know of any publisher with that name and doubt it would be used, because it’s pretty awful–whenever Books of Love are mentioned on any forum or in any chat, instantly Writer X pops up to say how happy s/he is, how great everyone at BoL is, how professional they are. Often this is echoed by several other Xs, all saying the same thing.

Here’s the problem(s). One, unless Writer X is already published with several other places, they really can’t say how professional BoL is, because they have nothing to compare it to. Two, being “great and nice” is, well, great and nice, but doesn’t mean the staff at BoL is actually professional either. Three, none of this has anything to do with what the actual job of an editor and publisher is, which are respectively to edit your book to professional standards, and to sell that book to the public.

Writer X, high on the rush of a sale and thrilled at the idea of publication, is in The Honeymoon Period.

This is the period of time between contract and royalty statement, and it’s the one time when you should probably pay little attention to Writer X’s effusive compliments.

The Writer X I’m thinking of specifically for this example was thrilled when BoL signed her, and continued to be thrilled while editing, while getting cover art, while receiving emails from BoL’s staff saying how her book was the top seller, and wasn’t it exciting?

Do I need to elaborate on what happened to Writer X when she got her royalty statement? She sold three copies.

Three copies in three months.

It wasn’t Writer X’s fault. It wasn’t BoL’s fault, either–they had done the best job they could. But BoL was new. BoL had not built a reputation or a readership. Which made BoL a bad choice for an author looking to place her/his novel.

This Honeymoon Period is eveident everywhere, on every blog and forum and website. A new publisher opens, people start selling to them, and before you know it Teh Internets are full of happy, chattery writers, encouraging all of their buddies to sub to BoL, discussing how they’re going places, they’re doing great, etc. etc. All of it meant kindly. All of it honest–neither BoL or the authors are trying to scam anybody.

But the fact is, and it’s one any writer should know and a writer interested in epublishing should tattoo on their arms, that ebook readers tend to be loyal to certain publishers and certain authors. They’re not necessarily going to take a chance on a new book by an unknown author from an unknown epublisher. (There are of course exceptions to this, but in general.)

Is this a set rule? No. If a new epublisher is opening its doors and the first books released ar by Patrice Michelle or Jaci Burton or Lora Leigh or any other big name, that publisher becomes a much safer bet. Chances are those authors are over there because they know these people, which means these people are connected and know what they’re doing. And readers will follow those big names, and reputation spreads from there.

But anyone can open an epublisher. It’s as easy as building a site and posting Calls for Submissions. No advances are paid in epublishing, so it requires little money to start up.

What this means is that every day, it seems, another publisher opens up. Every day new writers submit to and are accepted by those publishers. And every day a writer realizes they’ve made a huge mistake.

This is the one thing I only skimmed over in my last posts, and one of the most important things there is. Does this publisher have a reputation of sales? Have you heard of them? Have you heard of the authors talking them up all over the place? Are those authors discussing how good the sales are, or are they talking about how nice everyone is?

Don’t trust anyone talking up a publisher while they’re in the Honeymoon Period. It doesn’t mean anything.

Don’t submit your work to a start-up publisher unless you know someone in the organization and/or their background. Isn’t it better to wait however many months to get acceptance from a publisher you know, than to have your book out there and nobody knows about it?

Yes. It is. Don’t gamble with your book. Give it to someone you trust because they’ve proven they know what they’re doing, not because they seem really nice.

More next Friday.

Continue to Part Five

Today is the 4th of July.

When I was a kid this was a big deal, despite the fact that it pretty much rained every year. My brother and I would watch it glumly all day, praying it would clear up by nightfall so we could go outside and draw colored shapes in the air with sparklers, and use a punk to light those black snakes (the only fireworks we were usually allowed to light), while Dad set off the big stuff and the dog cowered terrified inside.

On the Bicentennial we went to a local park (whose name I’ve been trying to remember all damn morning and can’t, and apparently the name has changed because Google doesn’t help). My parents laid out the Snoopy sheet we used for picnics and to make tents, and we all sat on it and watched what promised to be The Greatest Fireworks Display Ever. I remember it was pretty cool, too, although being only almost 4 I was awfully tired. We used to be in awe of Bicentennial quarters, too, with the soldier on the back and the flag? That was coool, man. Special coins! Because it was America’s birthday!

One year my Dad got chased by a Roman Candle. It tipped over and shot a fireball right at him. He ran out of the way, and it ricocheted off the side of my little playhouse and followed him. I don’t remember how it all resolved. I presume he beat it to death. He used to tell us about the Roman Candle fights he got into with his brothers when he was a kid. I was in awe.

A few years ago the hubs and I grabbed a pizza that night and drove home listening to some sort of “Patriotism Mix” on the radio. The Fourth was irritating in our neighborhood, because the people behind us were, like magpies, adoring of Bright Shiny Things and turned the 4th into “America’s Six-Week Birthday”. The fireworks would start in early June and last until mid-August. When we went onto our back porch it was like the apocalypse was nigh and people were huddling around burning trash cans for warmth.

I miss it all.

Happy Fourth of July, everyone.

(BTW, I haven’t been making my usual rounds much this week, and probably won’t, because I am up to my neck in work. I did 6k words yesterday. My goal for today is 7500. Everything came due at once–unexpectedly, it wasn’t like I lazed about. Pray for me, I’m going in.)

Man, where did that weekend go?

I fully intend to continue my “Choosing a publisher” series, but I’m not continuing it today (as I said, I’ll probably do it on Friday and it will likely run all summer). I’m not sure why, since I have no other topics prepared (note to self: when compiling blog ideas in a file, don’t drunkenly jot down something and assume I’ll remember) but those posts are long and complex to write and as I’m just about to finish a novella I’m working on I don’t want to lose the flow. So we’ll be quick today. Sort of.

Everyone is gearing up for the big RWA conference next week, and I’m gearing up for my first EC novel release next week (Wednesday), so it seems we’re in a bit of a lull. Nobody’s writing, nobody’s submitting, nobody’s leaping on submissions (I assume) because soon it will be time to fly off to the conference.

I’ve never been to a writing conference of any kind, except for that panel where I acted like a big dork at DragonCon. But that’s not really a writing conference. It was fun, though.

So far in our Summer Movie Education program we’ve shown the sd: Jaws, Speed, Rear Window, Shaun of the Dead, Enter the Dragon, Rocky Balboa, and The Thing. (Tonight we plan a double bill: Face/Off and Hot Fuzz.)

I love The Thing. But I hate the ending. It’s my big problem with John Carpenter films. he loves those ambiguous endings.

The hubs likes them too. I hate them. I wonder if it’s a gender thing? Because I’ve never known a man who didn’t think the ambiguous ending was somehow cooler than an ending that, you know, actually ends and resolves the story. And I’ve never known a woman who wasn’t irritated by them. At least none that I’ve talked to about it, because watch, I’ll say that and every lady I know will comment how much they love ambiguous endings and I’ll feel like a big dumb dummy.

The exception to this, of course, is Gone With the Wind. Because it’s Gone With the Wind, so it can have whatever ending it wants.

Books going into series often leave us with unanswered questions, but we know there will be a resolution at some point.

What do you think? Which questions are okay to leave open, and which ones need to be closed? How do you feel about ending a book or movie and not really feeling like you got a resolution?

And was MacCready a Thing?