The Middleman (Person, What-Have-You)

My apologies to those who visited the blog today expecting to find a guest blog post and book give-away. I did have a guest scheduled, but unfortunately had to cancel when I didn’t receive the necessary materials in time for me to fit photo resizing, blog formatting and uploading into my own busy writing schedule. This is the first time I’ve had to cancel a guest blogger in a year of hosting, so that’s good—but it’s the second time I’ve run into problems receiving the necessary materials, and, both times, there’s been a middle man. A publicity person or assistant. I find this perplexing. Isn’t having an assistant or someone to handle your publicity supposed to make things easier on an author?

Maybe it’s just coincidence, but now I’m reluctant to agree to host another author if the arrangements are made through an assistant/publicity person (unless it’s a super big name like Jennifer Crusie, Susan Elizabeth Phillips or Nora Roberts—then, yeah, walk all over me, I’ll love it!). I prefer to deal with my guest authors directly. When I agree to host an author, I send a specific listing of the items required and that I’ll need them five days before the blogging date. Sometimes I book my guests several months in advance, so I expect that they’ll need reminding. Two weeks before the scheduled date, I always send out a reminder, again detailing exactly what I need and by what day.

Dealing directly with authors, I always receive those materials on time and the authors always come by to respond to comments on their designated blogging day without me sending two or three emails to the contact person only to find out that the author is out of state and didn’t realize they were supposed to drop by the blog at all. A conversation ensues. A book is won. The author hopefully will garner more sales and readers. And everyone is happy.

I don’t like chasing after guest authors, or, as the case has been in the two times I’ve encountered it, chasing after my contact for that author. Hey, I’m busy, too. The guests I book contact me, not the other way around.

I’ve run into the middleman confusion as a guest blogging author, too. Earlier this year, one of my writing names had an opportunity to blog with a group of other writers on a popular site. We all jumped at the chance. And then didn’t hear anything about the blog days again. Not from the middleman and not from the blog host. None of us were aware that it was our responsibility to contact the blog host. No one had told us. We were embarrassed, but our blogs were rightfully cancelled. In this case, they were rescheduled. Then we realized that the middleman’s sole function was to gather together the group of authors. Thereafter, we were on our own. So we ran with it. We came up with a theme, coordinated with the blog host, made sure we had our materials to her in ample time for the rescheduled blog days, and we all had a great time visiting each other’s blog posts, meeting the various readers, and chatting with them.

I understand that there times an author has to cancel. What looks like a great promo opportunity four months down the line might seem like a ton of work you don’t really need when you’re suddenly staring a book deadline or family obligation or life-curve in the face. Believe me, I get it. All I ask is that the middleman keeps me in the loop.

Fever Pitch

I had the strangest fever all weekend. Now I know why I went to bed at 8:30 p.m. Thursday night.

I woke up Friday feeling fine. So I thought. The dog had to go in to the vet’s for the day, so we didn’t have time for a walk (she wasn’t allowed to eat anything, and she always grabs something off the ground on our walks). Then I had errands to run downtown. Returned home, picked up the dog after some writing, and realized I was feeling a tad warm. I didn’t think anything of it. Nope, I didn’t walk the dog in the afternoon because she had to recover from her teeth-cleaning, not because there was anything wrong with me, you understand. Then the afternoon wore on, and I realized I only had enough energy to lie in front of the TV and vegetate—something I only do during the day when I’m sick. But I wasn’t sick! I was just too lazy to walk the dog (another very rare occurrence that should have clued me in).

Friday night, my Liege and I went out to an impromptu dinner. By this point, I was very emotional (watching Sicko before meeting him made me cry), and I went to bed early again.

Saturday morning, I awoke bright and early. My Liege offered to walk the dog alone, something that rarely happens. I hopped onto the computer, eager to get a ton of business-of-writing stuff accomplished. Then it hit me. I was either having the world’s biggest hot flash or I had a fever. I spent most of the day sleeping. When a friend mentioned that hot flashes usually don’t last 12+ hours, I finally admitted I might be sick.

I spent all of Saturday and Sunday in my pajamas. Sunday was a little better. No long naps (I only sleep during the day if I’m utterly exhausted or ill), but I couldn’t walk the dog again in the morning and I spent all day lying in front of the TV. Between Saturday and Sunday, I managed to scratch two items off my massive biz-of-writing To-Do list. And I considered that an accomplishment.

This was a very weird illness, because my only symptom seemed to be the fever. And tiredness. And thirst. I drank tons of water, rested for eons, and, okay, did the laundry, managed one afternoon walk with the dog, and pretended I was going to make dinner. Instead, I ate cashews and chocolate ice cream and caught up on my movie watching.

movie_goyas-ghostsGoya’s Ghosts: Excellent. Watch it. Natalie Portman did an excellent job. As did Javier Bardem and Stellan Skarsgard (I’m starting to wonder if there’s any role Bardem doesn’t do well). Barely recognized Randy Quaid!

Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day: I endured about 20 minutes before deleting it from the digital recorder. I enjoy Frances McDermond and Amy Adams, but after Goya’s Ghosts I just…didn’t care.

Last Chance Harvey: Enjoyable enough for a Sunday afternoon. If you like Dustin Hoffman, you’ll like this movie.

Ghosts of Girlfriends Past: My Liege rented this for me Saturday evening. I enjoyed it, but Matthew McConaughey is starting to wear on me. I know, sacrilege! It seems that all the characters he plays lately are the same—charming slimeballs. I’ve met a charming slimeball or two in my lifetime, and I’m really not a fan of the type. I’d really like to see McConaughey play some meatier roles. On the other hand, I thought Michael Douglas was a hoot as McConaughey’s uncle.

Oh, and Sicko: Enjoyed it, even though it made me cry. This movie about the American medical system made me VERY glad I live in Canada, although now I’m seriously considering moving to France.

Deal With It

funny pictures of cats with captions

My Liege gets a new printer today. His died September 29th, the last day of Mercury Retrograde.

On the plus side, at least it wasn’t my printer. Mine is more expensive and gets a waaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyy tougher work-out than his. My printer escaped Mercury Retrograde! HAHAHAHA! <insert maniacal laughter>.

However, alas, I’m the printer installer in this household. Cross your fingers that all goes well.

It’s Hump Day…All Week

It’s Wednesday already? What happened?

I’m having one of those weeks where I have so much to accomplish that it feels nothing’s getting done when in fact I’m motoring along just fine. Still in the most intensive part of my single title revisions—the first three chapters. I love the revisions, but they really affect the structure of the partial. A lot of work to do.

I’m also very busy planning a major vacation for My Liege and I. I hope to book the plane tickets tomorrow. Meanwhile, his printer went on the fritz last night, one final kick at Mercury Retrograde, I suppose. Tried everything I could think of, but couldn’t get it to work again. Tonight I’m uninstalling and then reinstalling it. If that doesn’t work, he gets a new printer.

How’s your week shaking out?

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Categorized as This & That

Memories of Kate

I had a post already published this morning, but just deleted it after hearing the very sad news that Kensington editor Kate Duffy has passed away. Kate played a major role in my first sale to Red Sage as Penny, because I’d initially targeted my first Secrets novella to her. As can so often happen in publishing, my manuscript went awry, shall we say. It had been over a year and I had not heard on the status. I was at an RWA conference—I can’t remember which one anymore—and just happened to mention my missing manuscript to another writer who knew what Kate looked like (I didn’t). Turned out Kate was walking our way!

The writer pretty much sidelined Kate, introduced us, and I asked about my manuscript. Kate replied quite frankly that if I hadn’t heard by now then the manuscript had likely been rejected. Later, she told me that the look on my face made her feel so guilty (this from the woman many considered intimidating). Because I asked, “But wouldn’t I have received a rejection letter?”

“Tell you what,” she said. (And, yes, I’m paraphrasing, I didn’t tape record our conversation). “I have somewhere to go after conference, but give me about three weeks and then contact me. I’ll let you know what I find out about your manuscript.”

Three weeks later, I was at home wondering when would be a good time to phone or email her when she phoned me. She couldn’t find the manu anywhere, it must have gotten lost, and could I email her another copy? I did, and she read and rejected it within 24 hours. By another phone call. But she didn’t just reject it, she told me why she was rejecting it. And she asked to see more ideas. In fact, she asked me to write up three ideas for her, and she’d choose which she wanted me to develop into a novella for submission to Brava. I did that. Meanwhile, I took her comments on the rejected novella, revised it, and sold it to Red Sage Secrets. Without Kate’s comments during that phone call, would I have sold that novella? I’ll never know.

Back to the three ideas. Kate called me back another month later saying she loved two of the three ideas, and she wanted me to write the full novella of one and then begin the second while she was considering the first. I wrote the full novella and submitted it. Time went by. A lot of time went by. A lot and a lot and a lot of time went by. 🙂

Eventually, we reconnected, but she rejected the full novella. Again, full of remorse about doing so. Very apologetic (I’d never experienced an editor apologizing to me for a rejection, and phoning me to make that rejection). So much time had passed, as can happen in publishing, between her approving the idea and looking at the full, that the idea no longer excited her enough to make a sale. But she asked to see another novella, a partial this time.

I did write that third partial novella for Kate. Time went by. A lot of time went by. A lot and a lot and a lot and a lot of time went by. Eventually, we reconnected, and she still loved the idea but wanted me to turn facets of the story upside down. So I did. Resubmitted. Time went by. A lot of time went by. Then I learned that she was ill, and I decided not to bug her.

Meanwhile, I revised the second full novella to suit Secrets, submitted it and sold it. It’s releasing in Secrets Volume 28 this December.

Kate made me laugh. She was very self-deprecating, and she had a dry wit that I identify with. That she took the time to phone me when she could have just sent me form snail-mail rejections said a lot about her character. And still does.

Goodbye, Kate. I’ll miss you. Even though I didn’t get a chance to truly work with you, I appreciate all the help you gave me. Now and always.