I have been remiss.
I offer the excuse that both my dogs have some foul virus that causes them to go ‘splodey all over the kitchen floor if I don’t take them out every hour on the hour. The vet says all we can do is push fluids and wait. Yay. Three squirt bottles of disinfectant and eight rolls of paper towels later, my hands look like they belong to an eighty-year-old woman.
Wait till you read this book. You’ll laugh… you’ll cry… you’ll cry some more… you’ll run out and rent “Carmen”… you’ll cry SOME MORE…
I’m so proud I could pop.
Community building: Ur doin it rong.
When I call e-pirates thieves? I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about sites like Asatalk and Demonoid that upload ebooks to file-sharing sites by the thousands. That’s not sharing a book with a few friends. That’s not “building community.” That’s ripping off authors, and making it harder for us to get compensated for our work. Reasonable people can agree on this topic, yes? One would hope so.
But then I stumble across readers making comments like, “Why should I care if authors make any money on their writing? It’s not my problem. I don’t care if their books are being pirated. I don’t care if Amazon rips them off. I don’t want to hear about it.”
And I begin to wonder about this whole “community building” thing. Especially when I’ve seen some of these same readers (in the comments of the same blog, too) say, “Where are all the new and interesting books? Why isn’t there anything good to read? I’m so bored. Everything sucks.”
Take those two statements together, and you’ve got something that smells an awful like entitlement. And I start to feel as if authors are being asked to do all the heavy lifting in this “community building” enterprise.
Here’s the thing: After you pay for my book, I don’t believe you owe me anything. Not a fan letter. Not a good review on a blog or elsewhere. Not a recommendation. Nada. As far as I’m concerned, our transaction is complete. Which is not to say I don’t love to hear from readers in all the ways I’ve listed. I just don’t expect it. I don’t feel ENTITLED to it, in other words.
But if you’re going to start bandying about the idea of building a community of readers and writers, then there has to be give and take on both sides. If I can get behind Kindle users sharing a book with five or six other buddies, surely readers can get behind denouncing the true pirates.
As far as I’m concerned, if you don’t care whether we are compensated for our work, you are not a member of any community I’d ever want to join.
(X-posted to Dubious_Virtue)
New Review: Year of the Cat
Elisa Rolle reviews Year of the Cat in her usual charming way.
“There is a bit of Cinderfella, a bit of The Beauty and the Beast, and yes, also a bit of the Puss in Boots, all mixed together in a resulting tale that is a winning formula. Often I read historical fantasy tale, but most of the time they have not originality, they are only a way to tell a story of man love in frilly garments without the burden to do an historical accurate research. in Year of the Cat, Selah March is not trying to masquerade an historical tale with the fantasy freedom, she wants to tell you a fairy tale, a naughty fairy tale, and she reaches her purpose.”
While you’re there, check out the first phase of the Rainbow Awards for LGBT fiction and non-fiction.
A little less heat, a little more light.
Weary of the “Lamdba Lit versus Breeders” controversy? Willing to read one final post on the subject?
Make it this one: http://wedschilde.livejournal.com/1312665.html
To paraphrase my brilliant and ever fabulously stylish crit partner, Barbara Caridad Ferrer, you can’t ever really know who you’re talking to on the Internet, so check your assumptions at the door and watch your friggin’ mouth lest you have cause to discover it’s just the right size for your big fat foot.
Deep in the Bitter Barn, don't bother to knock.
In the interest of fairness, I’m linking to a post at JesseWave Reviews that attempts to give a differing perspective on the whole Lambda mess. Here it is: http://www.reviewsbyjessewave.com/?p=8146
The authors of the post are eloquent in their defense of Lambda’s decision to change its award guidelines. A lot of what they say makes sense (not all, but I’m not of a mind to dissect the entire post). I still think the LLF’s decision was ultimately divisive and short-sighted. (And yes, I see where they called out the reference to “lynching.” Yes, it’s an inflammatory word. I meant it to be. If you’re looking for an apology for its use, look elsewhere.)
I feel strongly about this issue. I was amazed to discover there are people who believe I have no right to my strong feelings — or maybe it’s that I have no right to express them, even on my own blog. That I’m “heterosexist” and possibly even “homophobic” for expressing them, and certainly no friend to the gay community.
Here’s the thing: My opinion isn’t much more than an echo of the opinions of a lot of other people, many of whom are gay, including two past Lammy winners and the guy who founded the award. My opinion is virtually identical to theirs, but they’re not getting identical abuse (that I’ve seen).
I can only conclude that I’m being told to sit down and shut up — because of who I sleep with — by people who’ve been forced to sit down and shut up for millenia — because of who they sleep with.
Now, I’m a big fan of irony. But this time, it’s a little bitter for my tastes. It’s discouraging to discover such a nasty thread of “if you’re not with us, you’re against us” underneath the interactions of people I consider my peers.
I’ll say it one more time: It’s their award, and they can do anything they want with it, but I think the decision to change the guidelines was divisive, short-sighted, and will ultimately devalue the award. The fact that I disagree with one small group of gay folks about a literary award does not make me homophobic or heterosexist, nor does it mean I “don’t get it.”
I get it. I just don’t agree. There is room here for reasonable people of differing opinions. And if there’s not? Then we have much farther to go than we thought we did, don’t we?