A Plague of Words
To wit, I’m simply blinded by choice. I can’t make up my mind what to read because there’s so fucking MUCH to read and I want to read ALL of it…
From writer Alan Glynn, whose excellent novel The Dark Fields was transformed into the rather shallow movie, Limitless.
He has a full-blown blog too, with several short stories. All this time I didn’t know — because he sucks at promoting himself.
Anyway, what Alan says is what most readers can identify with. And what’s weird is that while I sit here typing this, I realize I don’t have the same impulse towards TV and movies. I haven’t yet seen all of Breaking Bad, but I’m not in any panic to do so — as I am to get to all the books I have waiting to be read.
Previously here and at my other blogs:
Crime Always Pays: Origins: Alan Glynn
Limitless, The Movie
Lose Your Mind
Go Buy Winterland By Alan Glynn!
Writer Alan Glynn Speaks!
Calling Alan Glynn!
Baldur Bjarnason has taken up the book publishing cudgel I’ve more or less abandoned in disgust.
This is a must-read: Except, except, except
There’s nothing there I disagree with. Some of it I’ve said myself years ago.
And that’s the fucking thing with book publishing: People have to say the same thing over and over again because it never sinks into their lizard brains.
No. Not picking up that cudgel again.
Zola Books Acquires Bookish.com
The site that was supposed to save the asses of the Big 6 (now 5) of publishing against that meanie Jeff Bezos and his ferocious beast Amazon, was dumped in what looks like a fire sale price to a non-publisher.
I never got around to checking out this site in depth. That is, beyond its WTF TOS.
Now I am pleased that I will never have to look at it ever again.
Amazon wins again.
Books didn’t tell you how long it took to read a chapter.
The Art of Writing by George Randolph Chester was originally published in 1912.
Before we get to the first word he wrote, we get a review from a reader that is now immortal.
A gorgeous book available free (download the PDF) at Google Books.
Update: For those outside of the U.S., I’ve uploaded it to my Google Docs for downloading.
Fighting The Pointless Fight: Books Come Back And Hit You, You Know
They say when you have a baby – when you hold it in your hands and feel how tiny and fragile it is — certain feelings well up in you that you have never felt before, which change you forever. I say when you look at a dumpster full of ancient books, you can’t possibly come away the same person. I have stood in front of mountains of discarded clothing higher than my head; I have seen warehouses of food sloughed off by supermarkets to go to food pantries; I have eaten freegan bagels and revived dumpstered computers; and I was not prepared for this.
Today I held a book in my hands from 1829 that was bound in leather – in actual dead animals. Its cover was scarcely bigger than my hands. The grain of the leather was so fine and soft. Its spine was torn away, leaving a mass like the inside of a squash. I opened it and could barely turn the pages out of fear I would kill its ideas with my clumsy futuristic hands.
I’m a digital book/eBook militant. But seeing books — knowledge! — discarded like that does drive me crazy.
The Outrage of the Week is the revelation that Random House is out to screw people with their new self-publishing scheme.
Just Shut the Fuck Up. No, really.
For years I have screamed — screamed! — about how the Big 6/4 are out to screw writers.
Continuing my research into Napoleon Hill, I came across a remarkable thing in an issue of American Stationer and Office Outfitter:
Prospectus of United Bookstores Co.
The following prospects, printed on a page leaflet, has been sent out by the United Bookstores Co. of America:
An opportunity is presented to a limited number of persons interested in wider and more profitable book distribution to participate in a strictly business enterprise for this purpose by becoming members of a syndicate to promote the United Bookstores Company of America.
The Business Rusch: The Death of Publishing
You’re a rotating group of widgets that might make the publisher some money.
That’s the truth.
And she also explains why the print bastards haven’t yet died — and nearly convinces me.