Questions! Contests! Exclamation points!

ETA: Comments now closed so I can draw a name.

Yesterday when Blogger was being eeeeeevil, Ms. Librarian emailed me this question (as she could not simply post a comment), which I decided to use to help kick off a contest:

Apropos of nothing in particular, do you find yourself more protective of what you read as you get older? (I'm not sure I'm putting this well ...) For example, I find that I can no longer read anything in which an animal is abused or killed, even as a minor plot point. I used to be able to tell myself that such an event was illustrative of the evil of the villain, or whatever, but now, it just doesn't matter -- I won't read it, and if such a thing occurs after I've started a book, I quit the book right there. Is that weird? I also find that I don't put up with depressing books anymore. If it doesn't make me feel positive, I quit reading it. Maybe it's just that I feel like "been there, done that" and I don't want to waste any of my diminishing reading time on that sort of thing.

What do you think?

I don’t think it’s weird at all. Now we’ve covered this a bit before in “Book Therapy: Taking Your Place on the Couch,” but it deserves to be revisited. As I mentioned there that I cannot read books where a dog dies. I just can’t. I’m apparently fine when it comes to any other animal dying, something I didn’t realize until this weekend when I finished a book where a horse is put down. Now I desperately wanted a horse when I was five up until “the conversation” with my father (and I have to say, doing a cost analysis to convince your five year old that a horse just cannot happen is wrong, Dad, just wrong), and I’ve grown up around horses all my life, but the horse dying in this story fit. It advanced the plot. It gave the moment emotional impact and wasn’t something that just happened only to be forgotten a few minutes later. Had the death been for pure shock value I would have laid the book down and never come back.

As I get older I find that I’m more open to reading new genres than I was as a kid. Sure I was voracious reader even then, but I was pretty single-minded about it. It had to be something I could get my hands on, and more often than not I was drawn more to historical than scifi elements. Now, perhaps due to my job, I jump from genres to nonfiction and back again. I enjoy the diversity of the worlds that books can bring.

Sadly I have far less time to read.

“But where is the contest in all of this?” you ask. “I was promised a contest and quite possibly some chocolate.”

It’s simple. To enter this contest all you have to do is comment on Ms. Librarian’s question. Are you a more adventurous reader now or less? How have your reading likes and dislikes changed? What do you read now that you would never pick up when you were younger?

I’ll take all the names from the comments (including the anonymous ones, but please do something to differentiate yourself. Remember, you can always use your stripper name (the name of your first pet and a street you lived on), or your soap opera name (your middle name and the name of your grade school) if anonymity is important to you), and pick a name or two to win. Depending on how many people comment I might do this a couple of times this week. I don’t know. The prizes might be chocolate, or it might be a book, but it will be something worthy of putting your thoughts in a box and hitting publish.

I want this to be an open place where everyone feels comfortable commenting, and if that means offering a reward then so be it.

Comment away! You’ve got until I post the next post to make yourself heard.

Book Therapy: Taking Your Place on the Couch

Apparently when I said I’d “post after work and such,” you should have taken “and such”to mean “and after I get home from work, go grocery shopping, make dinner, go to bed, wake up before most civilizations categorize it as morning and take a friend to the airport, and then get some more sleep.”

I didn’t know that “and such” had such a complicated definition either.

Literate souls that you are, you stepped up and presented some really great titles to relieve your blues, many of you citing Austen, Alcott, Irving, Adams, and others for providing you with a pick-me-up when the world has you down. Others wanted the happily ever after (and I’m there with you), and Doug and his wife liked to take a walk with the dark side of life (I like Heart of Darkness too).

In times of pain or unhappiness (or just straight-up PMS, which I swear someone posted as a need-to-read reason, but now I don’t see it, so maybe I’m just imprinting my own reasons on someone’s comment), it appears that we all turn to fiction as opposed to nonfiction books to help us make it through or just to escape a little. Ms. Librarian provided a great link to the definition and practice of Bibliotherapy or “the use of books to help people solve problems. Another, more precise definition is that bibliotherapy is a family of technique for structuring interaction between a facilitator and a participant based on mutual sharing of literature (Pardeck, 1989).”

Personally I would much rather pay for more books than a therapist.

As for my own book therapy habits, I’m all about the good book, a glass of wine/tequila/bottle of beer, and a bath full of Lush bubbles. Throw in a good dinner at some point and I’m the most Zen individual you will ever meet. Unlike many of the rest of you, I rarely reread books, however; not even old favorites. This is probably because at any one time I have a stack of new books in my house that I really want to read, and I’m being inundated everyday with even newer titles at the store. On my footstool alone, I currently have Christopher Moore’s newest (A Dirty Job) that I’m savoring oh-so-slowly because I know it will be something like 14 months until I get another, the ARC of T. Jefferson Parker’s Fallen, the ARC of the Crusie/Mayer collaboration Don’t Look Down, Joshilyn Jackson’s Gods in Alabama, and the ARC of Lara Vapnyar’s Memoirs of a Muse. These are just the books waiting for my on my footstool, pick another surface and there will be more. I have an uncontrollable habit of buying all the books I want to read because I’m afraid that I will forget them otherwise. I know that when I’m no longer in the book business, and thus no longer overwhelmed by the new-new-NEW, I will turn to the old favs once again, but until then I’m a slave to the newest and brightest.

Plus I just love discovering new authors and titles, really helps pick up my mood.

The flip side to books that pick up your mood though, are those that leave you depressed or horrified; the books that cause you need therapy. I don’t know how we got on the subject (or even what we were supposed to be doing at the time), but one day the Boss and I started talking about the books that scarred us for life. Those books that we couldn’t/wouldn’t even consider picking up again and to this day still bring about a violent reaction within us.

Mine was Where the Red Fern Grows.

Hers was Old Yeller.

Both were about dogs, both were read at an impressionable age, and both still piss us off. To this day I can—in detail—remember reading about the characters trying to sort out the dog’s intestinal track and try to lay it back into the stomach cavity. And to this day I still gag, get weepy, and need to go hug a puppy. The Boss got a double whammy when after being scarred by Old Yeller, she then had her grandparents sit her down to watch the movie!

Needless to say that neither of us cares to revisit the experiences even though both books are considered classics. Personally, I don’t think you should make a child under the age of ten read anything where the animal dies, especially not in a school setting. There are lots, and lots, and LOTS of really good alternatives that still represent the nature of death.

To this day, if I realize an animal is going to die in a book (especially a dog), and it’s an animal that the author has put some work into getting us attached to, I’ll just stop reading. Put the book down. Take it back. I’m through. I don’t need that kind of emotional manipulation, nor do I need to read about it in graphic detail. A person though? Even if I’m attached to them, as long as I think the death fit with the storyline I’ll keep going. I don’t have a problem with a character dying.

I’m not quite sure what that says about where I rank people in the hierarchy of my worldly importance.

What about you? Most of you have hit the “good” books that get you through the day, but what about the bad? What about the ones that made you throw the book against the wall because you were so mad, or sad, or just plain confused why the hell anyone would go there? Did you go back and finish it later or did you just let it lie? And can a book be good even if it invokes violent hatred?

Consider it group book therapy, and afterwards will all get toasted on some really good wine.

Book TV

So in true BSC fashion, I did all this research for this one topic, realized that I really didn’t have anywhere to go with it yet, and immediately chose to move on…to another topic that I have done no research for, of course. Rather than go do some more research (and therefore posting absolutely nothing for yet another day), I’m going for some off the cuff stuff (and clichés, oh the clichés).

You see, I have a dream, a glorious dream, where we use the visual stimulation of television to get people to read more, where we play upon the United States’ need for “personality” in their stars and introduce them to the literary world. This does, of course, mean that I dream of hauling all writers out of their caves, ivory towers, Hampton cottages, whatever, and getting them out there on the circuit to whore themselves out for their babes of the written word.

I realize that many people would never have become writers, a solitary activity to be sure, if they were gregarious, out-going, attention whores, but hey, that’s what acting coaches and speech therapists are for! Do you think that I’m happy, go-lucky Perky McGiggles (my customer service personality) all day, every day? Dear God, no, and neither are 97% of the other retail people out there (3% are, of course, and the mere presence of that percentage makes me shudder). But if I can paste on Ms. McGiggles at the drop of the hat to keep someone happy, then so can a large majority of the writers out there.

For those who cannot, there’s the internet, and all hail the World Wide Web that allows us such options as edit and delete, but the internet is not today’s topic.

Today’s topic is television, and how I would like to see it in bookstores.

Gasp, horror, dismay! Everyone over the age of 22 is probably cringing, crying, or screaming in outrage. Television in the bookstore? A bookstore is a place of quiet, of contemplation, of getting away from the constant bombardment of product placement and ad jingles. You want to put television in bookstores? What kind of bookstore clerk are you?

One who wants to catch her daily dose of Passions, perhaps?

I kid. I haven’t watched Passions since the summer that I got my wisdom teeth removed and to this day I’m still not sure if it was a crazy as I remembered or that was the codeine messing with my head. Besides, Passions does not represent the kind of TV I’m talking about. I’m talking about the writer interviews done by Jon Stewart (John Hodgman anyone?), Charlie Rose, and others. I’m talking about the actual Book TV provided by the same people who do CNN. I’m even talking about the music video for Lolita Files’s new book, and the commercials from Patterson and Roberts. I’m talking about using these in some way to catch the attention of the everyday book browser and turning them into the book buyer.

Because, ladies and gentlemen, the generation after mine, the one that is below the age of 22 with money to spend and brands seared on their brain, is different. That generation is addicted to the visual image for the most part, almost to the detriment of their own imagination, and if you don’t find a way to tap into that part of the market then your written word might be doomed.

One of the fastest growing sections in my bookstore (and in most of the bookstores in my company) is the Manga section. For those of you who don’t have or know a teenager, Manga is a Japanese style comic book that reads right to left and usually runs around one hundred pages long. Like anime, the Japanese movie equivilant, the stories range from small animal-type creatures fighting each other to high school situations and drama to more mature topics. Anime cartoons have already invaded most Saturday morning (think Pokemon, DragonBall Z, and Yu-Gi-Oh), so chances are that any child who watches them has already been introduced (even if their parents have not). These children, when asked by their parents what they want to read, then turn to the Manga version of their favorite TV show. Meanwhile, Manga comics, which used to be the sole domain of the “nerds” and “geeks” of most high schools, are now socially acceptable to most students. These books, which range in price from $7.95 to $10.99, provide ongoing storylines along with the visual stimulation of pictures. No longer does a child have to read “she smiled” and try to figure out what that smile might look like, the picture is right there on the page.

In a culture of video/computer games, television and comics, we’re raising a generation that needs visual stimulation to catch their interest. Something about the author, the book, or the trailer needs to trick them into giving a book that is all words a try. It’s no longer a joke when someone complains that books with no pictures aren’t worth it, it’s indicative of the culture we are creating for our children.

I’m not here to pass judgment on whether or not this is right, I’m here to figure out a way to tap into this market. I’m here to figure out a way to sell books and get people to read.

I’m here to figure out how to get Book TV into bookstores because as it stands now, adults are only slightly less susceptible than children when it comes to giving into the curiosity of what is flashing across that screen.

Thoughts?

Opine away.

Take a look at this cover and give me your thoughts and feelings. What's the first thing that strikes you about it? What would you change (if anything)? Does it make you want to pick up this book and why? Or maybe, why the hell are y ou asking this?

I'll give my own opinions after work.

Edited to add:

I meant to get back to y'all when I got home, but blogger was experiencing much unhappiness. Oh well, bet late than never, right?

I chose the William Trevor novel because I wanted to segue into a column on selling short story anthologies and I happen to love that cover (and the book). I found your comments and idea so interesting though, that I think that’s where I should focus instead. Not one of you remarked on the fact that it says “stories” on the cover, which might be indicative of the fact that the picture is small (although you can click on it to enlarge), but I find it remarkable given the fact that a couple of you recognized the name (although larger, it is positioned above his other title and the word “stories”).

For those of you who don’t know who William Trevor, he’s an Irish novelist (currently living in England) whose book, The Story of Lucy Gault, was a Los Angeles Times Best Book of 2002 and a New York Times Notable Book pick. He’s known for his prose (beautiful) and his ability to craft stories that are both gentle and insightful as they exam the often darker side of human lives. A Bit on the Side refers to the title of the last story about two people having—and ending—an affair.

What I love about this cover is that it does attract so much attention and opinions even though its not bright or eye-grabbing (despite the use of that lush purple for the woman’s blouse/dress, which I’m not sure comes through in the picture I used). The photo was done by Stephen H. Sheffield (Photonica) and then hand colorized by Viktor Koen.

I thought about cropping out the title or just the author’s name, and letting the cover stand on its own merits, but that’s now how you would see it in the store. I doubt that the publishing company had the time to get the feedback that you’ve just given me, but imagine if they had. Would they have changed anything? Probably not, it is a lovely cover.

Does it represent the book within? In my opinion, yes. Trevor’s stories have this same kind of soft quality, as if they could take place anywhere in time. It’s not the time period but the issue that his characters deal with that’s important. I think that you showed that this came across in the cover with your comments (and whether or not this type of thing attracted you). Books, like opinions, don’t appeal to everyone, and so covers cannot appeal to all.

But if this cover has caught your interest, check it out. His stories are amazing.

I’ll get to the “short stories and how the sell column” later this week.

Give'em the hook...

I set my alarm clock this morning with the intention of getting up early and being all witty, completely disregarding the fact that I'm never witty (or even intelligible) before two cops of coffee and much zoning on my futon, so all was for naught. Given this (un)surprising turn of events, I'm going to let someone else do the thinking for me.

While blog surfing the other day I came across an interesting post by Melanie Hayden, the writer behind Novelist in Progress. In "What's Your Hook?" she asks the question many before her have asked time and again, "How many good MS get turned down by publishers because they don't have a built in hook?"

I'm not opposed to writing concept chick lit. On the contrary, my current project is so conceptual that my character-loving muse engaged in a balancing act worthy of the Flying Wallendas in an effort to keep the concept at the core of the story without sacrificing character development[...] But as I sit here remembering some of my favorite women's fiction, I realize that it's not the gimmick that holds me, or the snappy titles or even the gorgeous covers. It's characters I believe in and wish I could go to lunch with; it's a vivid setting that means I don't just know the book is set in London because the heroine refers to the transit system as the tube instead of the metro; it's conflict that I see reflected in my life and the lives of my real-life friends.

I agree. A hook can only get a book so far, and it's whether or not I care about the characters that carries me the rest of the way through. The lack of an obvious hook can make it harder to sum up in ten words or less (Da Vinci Code's "The World's largest cover up," anyone?), but that doesn't mean there isn't marketing possibility, simply that one would have to work harder.

I'll go into this in more detail later, but I'm really interested in what y'all have to say in response to Melanie's article and your own dealings with the infamous hook. All I can say is that if I hear/read the words "Like the Da Vinci Code..." one more time I may scream.