The Kindle Dilemma

My bookshelves are crowded. Really crowded. They have been for years so when Kindle became a thing, I got one. It didn’t stop me from buying books. I just became more judicious about my paper choices. Most non-fiction is a hardcopy purchase. Almost all fiction is a Kindle purchase, unless I know I’m going to reread it over and over, like LOTR and Dune. Poetry is hardcopy because poetry often doesn’t transfer well to Kindle. When I formatted Piccola Poesie for Kindle, I spent an inordinate amount of time making sure the poems looked right in the electronic version.

Kindle has become my bookshelf in more ways than one. Now I have so many books on it I can’t find things if I want to reread them. It doesn’t happen often. Usually, I read then delete off the Kindle to save space. It stays on my Amazon account if I need to download it again. By the last check, I have over 900 books available in my account for my Kindle. Gulp. Then I went and signed up for Kindle Unlimited so I have even more books to choose from. I may have a problem.

Can You See Me Now?

I know people practically get in fistfights over paper vs. electronic. I like both. I read a lot more on the Kindle than I do paper. It’s hell to get old and not be able to read the tiny print in a paperback very easily. My appearances at used book stores have dwindled because of that. On the electronic reader, I can up the type for my crappy old eyes.

Another advantage is when I put the Kindle app on my iPad and phone I can have my book available almost anytime, anywhere. It helps me read a lot. 2-4 books a week (fiction). It’s not as many as it sounds, I also read really fast and always have. I read at dinner. Read at lunch. I read in downtime waiting for appointments. Books are easier to do that with than knitting, although I have been known to carry an in-progress sock around to kill time when I have to think about MY writing.

I recently swiped my way back through the Kindle carousel. And swiped, and swiped. There are a lot of partially read books on there. 37%, 52%, some even abandoned at the 89% mark. I buy books and I download a lot of free books. I quit worrying about it and if the book doesn’t live up to my expectations of a good story, I abandon it. Even at 89%. If it’s lost my interest, it’s lost my interest.

My biggest pet peeve is the character, told not to do something, immediately does what she was told not to do. Surely there is a better way to move your plot forward? Willful stupidity makes me toss the book. Used to be when I bought a physical book I felt obligated to see it through to the end. That feeling is going away.

Tick-Toc

Time is short. Not just because of the workday but because life itself is careening to a close. (Damn birthdays for making me feel that.) So much to read and enjoy. The mountain of books getting published every year is daunting. But I’m doing my best to make a dent in the To Be Read pile. If it topples over and buries me (physically or electronically) I’ll die happy.

How do you tackle your reading material? Physical, electronic, cuneiform?

Staying Afloat in a Writing Ocean

What’s true with the rest of life/hobbies/interests is true with writing. So many facts and details to keep track of. I really want to keep up with what’s going on in the writing industry, so I read blog posts and tweets and articles and books and newsletters. You know what? It’s too much information to absorb. You can read too much about how to do things and it can be paralyzing as all the advice you read rolls through your head when primarily there should be the story, or poem up there. 

Or at least that’s how I want it to be. The information also paralyzes by raising doubts. Do I have story beats, plot structure, character arcs, action, a catchy opening? That can lead to obsession and reworking things over and over again until the piece is informationed into a hot mess. Then you say Argh, I can’t do this, I’m going to take up knitting. (Knitting is a lovely hobby. Highly recommend.)

Social Media Overload

It’s also intimidating to read breezy posts about how someone tweeted something and had an agent the next day. Or has 20,000 followers and aren’t even published yet. It’s exhausting to think of social media and the time sink of promoting yourself. It doesn’t stop me from gritting my teeth and posting cheery—okay, okay, mostly sarcastic—stuff. Maybe I’m too old for social media. But it’s probably because I’m way too private a person to hang my laundry out for the world to see. I was told cultivated glimpses were the answer to that. A thought worth exploring. I think I can do that and still be my sarcastic self. That’s definitely me, too. 

Reading agent blogs/websites/tweets is a whirl of conflicting information. Query like this, no, like this. Start your novel like this, no, like this. Same with writer’s forums. So much chaff to sift through to get to the nuggets. The time sink can swallow you whole. Of course, what it all comes down to is, do the best you can. If it’s not good enough for one person/publication, shrug and move on to the next. I gave up taking it personally a long time ago. I have skin of mithril. It leaves bruises, but they heal quickly. 

And what’s up with all these contests? The lists to find places to submit have more contests than regular spots. I just want to submit some poems or a book/chapbook, not pay $20-30 for the privilege of doing so each and every time. It’s like The Hunger Games of writing, but the odds are never in your favor. The slow grind of society is monetizing everything and offering shortcuts, advice, and motivation—for a price. I need to be able to afford yarn and dog food also. 

Throw Me a Rope

There are so many places to send poems and novels it’s overwhelming. Research can cut the odds considerably but suspiciously feels like sending a message out in a bottle—the same time frame for a response also. The writing industry is an ocean and I’m out there on a paddleboard. But I really like the ocean so I stay and play. Information can be your life preserver or boots filled with water. It’s up to you to choose your own adventure.

What do you do to combat the tsunami of writing advice?

Revising 101 (Housekeeping)

The most important thing to revision? Buy lots of ink cartridges and printer paper. You might be tempted to skip this step. Don’t. This applies to both novels and poetry. Print that sucker out. I know, I know, it seems like a PITA to use all that ink and paper on something you just know is perfection. 

Trust me, it’s not. Errors are insidious, from little things like the word ‘out’ instead of ‘our’. Hard to spot. Or transposed letters because your eyes crossed when reading that particular section. Or words just flat missing. My favorite in my work is prepositions that go AWOL. Those suckers scatter like roaches when you turn on the light. 

Go Big or Go Home

The advice I scoffed at—at first—was to change the font of the work to something totally different, and enlarge. So I changed from Times New Roman to Arial. To Calibri. I still missed things. But when I changed it to Comic Sans 14 point. Oh, My. Errors stood out with big flashing signs. “You screwed up here! Notice me! (Pick the ugly font of your choice. It works.)

It takes a lot of paper to do this. I could use my novel as a doorstop. Or a firestarter. Somedays, it’s Burn, Baby, Burn first and foremost in my brain. Oh, and paperclip every chapter together. Or bull clip it, or put in separate labeled file folders in a drawer. Because when you drop it—and you will—frantic sobbing won’t put things back in order. Neither will the cat that chooses that moment to walk over it and sharpen his claws on stray sheets. 

If you hole punch after editing each page and put it in a binder, make sure you empty your hole punch sooner rather than later. Because if you accidentally knock the tray off, little white circles go everywhere. You’ll be finding them for months. They defeat the suckiest of vacuum cleaners. You could always sprinkle catnip over it, and hope your static-y cat rolls in them and picks a bunch up. Then you can vacuum the cat. 

Let me know how that works out. 

What are your housekeeping revision tips?

Poetry Submissions for the Rest of Us

So, I’ve been reading submission guidelines while I search for places to home my poetry. A lot of them leave me scratching my head. 

“We want poetry that makes our heart go POW and our head pop off the stem of our neck spouting blood like a geyser. We want work that zings our strings and causes a rabid dog to bay at the moon. Send us work that has the diversity of fungal infected wildflowers and the factory installed parts of a slightly used car. Come whiffling through the tulgey wood, and burble as you come, with thematic intent.”

WTF?

All I really want to know is whether the magazine wants free verse, forms, more traditional, prose poems, experimental, or political. Do they consider rhyming poetry? Non-traditional? Edgy? Short? Long? Tattooed on your left hand? How can you tailor your work to the magazine when you can’t decipher the code? Back issues don’t always help.

I’ll take utterly clueless for $500, Alex.

Maybe my poetry magazine to poet translator is busted. 

Maybe I’m getting old. 

Maybe I should stick to writing fantasy. 

Maybe I just throw my poetry at the submissions wall and see what sticks. Yep, I like this option. 

(And when I do find a place for my work)—

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?

      Come to my arms, my beamish boy!

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”

      She chortled in her joy.

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