Romancing the Blog | Romance Authors and Readers Who Blog

I know it’s getting a little late to be talking about New Year’s resolutions, especially since most of us have already broken our vows. (Me included!) But I thought I would share one of my reading-related resolutions – to catch up on all my book series.

Romance, fantasy, thrillers, westerns … I love a good series. When I first discover a great new series, I devour the books one after another, like the delectable treats they are. I just can’t read them fast enough. And when I’ve read all the current titles, I’ll haunt Amazon, trying to find out when the next book will be released.

But then a funny thing happens. Somewhere between finishing the last book and waiting for the next one to come out, my enthusiasm for the series gets shuttled to the back burner of my mind. It’s not that my interest wanes. I understand how long it takes for a book to be published, even by someone who can write three or four titles a year. I can be patient. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. Maybe someday it will actually be true.

No, I’m guilty of the old out-of-sight-out-of-mind trick. And being distracted by all the new books out that I could be reading right now. Covers pretty, pretty covers … Put me in a bookstore, and I have the attention span of a gnat. Sigh.

So this year, I’ve vowed to catch up on all the series that I’ve read and enjoyed in the past but have somehow slipped by the wayside. The Dresden Files by Jim Butcher. The Hollows series by Kim Harrison. Robert B. Parker and his various series. Sherrilyn Kenyon’s Dark-Hunters. Roxanne St. Claire’s Bullet Catchers. Kresley Cole and her Immortals After Dark. And the list goes on …

In fact, I could probably just read series books and nothing else this year – and still not be completely caught up. But I’m going to give it my best shot – at least until the next time I go to the bookstore and get distracted all over again.

What about you guys? What series would you like to catch up on this year? What are some of the series you’d like to try?

Already this year, my husband and I have bought a new house, six new appliances and a whole bunch of new furniture, plus hired painters to paint said house, and bought a whole bunch of new fixtures and hardware to take the house from brass to bronze (so many, we had two people helping us in Lowe’s as we filled three carts).

And no, we haven’t sold our current house yet. And yes, we know we’re taking this big huge crazy risk.

Call us insane. Others have

Everywhere we went as we made these purchases for the house, people, salespeople in particular, felt compelled to say something. Especially about the whole “haven’t put the current house on the market” thing (as a side note, we have three dogs, a cat and two kids. If you have ever tried to sell a house when you have pets and kids, AND are on deadline, you’d understand why I just said “no” to that whole idea . We will be putting it on the market–soon as we move.

But the salespeople and others we told were just aghast. “You’re spending all this money.” “You haven’t sold the house yet.” “Do you know what the real estate market is like right now?” “The job market?”

Uh, yeah. I watch the news and read the paper just like everyone else. But you know what? DH and I decided we’d go for it. We’d take this risk anyway. I mean, SOMEONE has to spend money right now, right? When I went to the New England Crimebake in November, I bought so many books, I think my credit card started smoking . And I’m still buying, every time I walk into a place that sells books.

Why? I’m no Pollyanna, trust me. But I’m also optimistic enough to know that someone–or many someones–have to turn the economy around. It takes a village, one person at a time, from the top down, from the bottom up, doing their part, small or large, doesn’t matter. I’m going to keep buying stuff I can afford, and keep helping the local stores stay in business as best I can (hey, I even shopped at Circuit City at Christmas…apparently I didn’t buy enough, LOL).

Don’t get me wrong. I’m certainly not saying one person single-handedly can do anything to change the state of this country or the world. But one person doing one thing and another person doing another…it adds up. It’s like word of mouth for a turnaround. It sure is a sight better than the scared looks I saw on many of the salespeople’s faces who worried that we were completely insane for owning two houses at once in this economy. I wanted to remind them that they were sort of biting the hand that was feeding their jobs, so they should just let us spend…and maybe try to talk us into an extra ottoman.

My answer to all of them, at the end of every purchase? “Just helping the economy.” Whether it was a book or a refrigerator…

Just helping the economy.

Shirley
PS: If you comment and I don’t comment back, it’s not that I don’t try…I’ve just had this ongoing problem where the comments won’t work for me at all. Not sure why WP hates me for comments for my last three or so blog posts. Sorry!

We’ve all heard it; bookstores are having a tough time. (And if you believe this study, not because reading is on a decline.) First it was independents, then Borders and now Barnes and Noble has laid off 100 people at their corporate office. When will it stop, and when it does, what will be left? Or maybe a better question, what, if anything could be done to stop it? Is there still life left for bookstores?

Personally, I think there is. I just think things need to change and who better to propose these changes than us, the customers? ‘Cause it is all about us–or should be…but more about that later…

When considering why anything isn’t working, first you need to look at the competition–what is working. In the book selling game there are three obvious culprits…discount stores (WalMart, Target, Sam’s, Costco, etc.), Amazon and used bookstores. Why do we shop at these places? Why do we like them?

I see two big ass obvious answers…cost and convenience. All three beat your traditional book store prices significantly. Yes, with Amazon you have to pay shipping (for orders under $25), and they don’t discount everything, but the big books? You bet they do. Let’s look at Twilight (nothing much bigger than that this year) Retail $10.99, B&N (online) $9.89, Amazon $6.04, WalMart (online) $5.50. Hello! That is a pretty big difference. And let’s face it, you have to go to WalMart or Target and pick up toilet paper anyway…why make an extra trip to a bookstore and pay MORE? And used? You can count on any used book being at least half the cover price, in many cases less.

So, I think it’s pretty obvious that the competition is beating the pants off the bookstores on price. Why is this? I’m not sure–could be publishers give these other stores bigger discounts for volume, or it could be that these other stores can afford to give a bigger discount on books because they are making money other places–could be a combination. It doesn’t really matter to most consumers though because bottom line, their books are cheaper.

So, now we know two of the big issues–what could bookstores do to overcome them? For me they could either compete directly–selling their books cheaper, or being more convenient to my lifestyle, or they can offer me something the others don’t, make it worth my while to come in. I think they’ve tried the last, but it isn’t really working.

So, let’s help them out. What do we want? If you were going to design a bookstore where you would spend say 80% of your book-spending money, what would it look like?

Here’s my list:

• Loyalty program and not one I have to pay for–or remember to bring in coupons for. Just let me present my card and when I’ve spent a certain amount, give me a bigger discount, buy me a cup of fancy coffee…something. But let me know you appreciate me sticking with you, give me a reason to keep doing so when I wander by the book section at Target on the way to that toilet paper.
• Loss Leaders. I hate knowing I can buy something cheaper somewhere else–it makes me feel guilty. And the fact is, if you get me in to buy the “big” book, I’ll buy something else while I’m there. And you don’t have to discount other books (not without my loyalty card). Your competition (WalMart, Target, etc.) don’t even carry the midlist books I crave.
• Have real people working who know the section they are assigned to, and have them walking around chatting, offering help when I need it–not clustered behind some “customer service” sign staring at a monitor.
• Have plenty of those monitors out in the store where I can look up books myself and see if they are in stock and maybe even order from your online store if they aren’t. Or order to pick up at the actual store–or both.
• Sell eBooks and eBook readers. Explain them to me. Download them for me. Educate me. Make me want to come to you to get them. Have them count as part of your loyalty program.
• Lose the library atmosphere (which really isn’t a library atmosphere any more…) I want to have a good time while shopping for books. This doesn’t mean signings and loud presentations, but I want to be able to talk with my friends, other readers and those new knowledgeable sales people of yours without getting the death stare from the college junior over there nursing the coffee she snuck in from Starbucks.
• Think about me (and other customers) and what I read when you shelve your books–not just what is stamped on the spine. My dream shelf would include the Nocturnes (of course, I write them), Kim Harrison, and Kresley Cole. You could mix in some light versions of those type of books if you like, Stephanie Rowe, Michelle Rowen, Julie Kenner, but I think you’ll see a theme there. Do the same all over. Put Simon R. Green and Jim Butcher beside Tanya Huff. Put John Sandford and Michael Connolly on the same shelf. And Susan Conant near Diane Mott Davidson. And if you can’t do this all the time–feature a sub-genre in each section each month. Pull out a “type” of book targeted at a certain reader and give it a shelf. Have those new salespeople ask your customers what they love and build off it. Introduce me to books I will love, but have yet to meet.
• Keep the coffee. I like the coffee, just get those death-staring chair-hogging college students under control.

So, that’s my list. What is on yours?

And as a side note in case anyone wonders…I love book stores. When I moved to Helena Montana sixteen or so years ago, one of the first things I noted was the lack of book stores. The selection was really sad–as in one retail store at the tiny mall. Aside from that it was used or discounters. The Internet wasn’t even an option then.

I mourned.

If we lose book stores, we will lose the possibility of discovering many great new to us authors. We will be dependent on some database showing us “what else we might like” or selecting solely from “best sellers”. I want suggestions, but I still want the ability to wander and discover too…How about you?

The reason I became a writer in the first place was that my sister, Nancy Bush, read an article in Time Magazine about women who were making money penning romance novels. Names like Jayne Castle, Paris Afton Bonds and Rachel Ryan peppered the article. Nancy, ever the trailblazer, thought we could write and make a living at it. After all, we, like so many published authors in the article, were young mothers raising kids.

I think my response was “Oh, yeah, right” or “No way” or “Are you out of your ever-lovin’ mind, we’ve never even read a romance novel!” or something just as positive. But the next day I went to my day job which was babysitting and decided Oh, wow, Ms. Negative, this ain’t such a great career. While the tots I was watching were sleeping I wrote seven pages on an old standard typewriter that cut the brownish Roman-Meal-looking paper I had on hand. By the time Nancy returned, I handed her the prologue of what became STORMY SURRENDER, a complete manuscript written by Nancy, our friend Linda and myself. Nancy edited the whole thing, retyped it and sent it out.

Of course it was rejected all over New York. But some of the rejections were positive and Nancy and I, in our naivete, ignored the negative ones and took the positive ones as a sign to keep going! We split up at that point, writing separate books and Nancy scored first with ABBY’S CHANCE which was published as DARE TO LOVE, in the First Love line for Silhouette Books, which at the time was part of Simon and Schuster. We thought: Hot dog! We’re on our way.

We were, but it went slowly. I published a year later and never since our first attempt have Nancy and I written together again. Until now. Twenty-six years later. So, this time, it’s been a new experience. We sold before we wrote the book and then, as the publisher wanted a full novel written by both of us together as opposed to an anthology, we got to it.

Of course, all through our careers we’ve always read, edited and advised on each other’s works. Nancy’s one of the handful of people who can critique/edit my work. She’s published a ton of books ranging from historical romance to the popular Jane Kelly Mystery series. She’s even been on the head writing team of All My Children for ABC daytime programming. So she knows her stuff. (Didn’t I say she was a trailblazer and rarely takes “no” for an answer?)

So, about the blog . . . here’s the deal: Working day to day on the same project with someone isn’t as easy as it sounds. It certainly wasn’t a) write a synopsis, b) break it down by chapters and c) each person write a chapter, then elect someone (say, Nancy) to clean it up and make it look as if it’s from one voice. (This was how we wrote STORMY SURRENDER–a clue to its lack of purchase?)

Did we fight?
Rarely.
Did we laugh?
A lot!
Was if fun?
Yeah.
Did it turn out well?
Uh-huh.
Would I do it again?
Already signed up.
Would I do it with someone else?
No way!

There are always differences of opinion and points of view. Nancy and I have been working together for nearly thirty years and we have the same vision for a book if not the same style. If our visions hadn’t melded into one, then we would have been in trouble. If we couldn’t take advice and accept the opinions of each other, we would have failed.

I don’t know how many of you write with a partner, or are part of a critique group or have siblings who write, but it’s not an easy process. SELF tends to get in the way; that has to go out the back door with the trash.

Together, we plotted out a lengthy back story (maybe 40 pages) that lead up to the first book, WICKED GAME, and was carried through in Nancy’s book, UNSEEN, and again in our next book together (working title WICKED LIES). We plotted out WICKED GAME together, Nancy forged ahead on her next project and she’s taking the lead in WICKED LIES, though we’ve already talked over the basic plot and I’ll put my nose/hand into it as soon as I’m finished with the current project. It’s complicated having books that are connected while writing others, but I’m confident we’ll do it.

Nancy is a stickler for details–she can spell, and she balances her check book to the penny. (She also has a degree in nutrition.)

I’m a big-picture person and details are difficult. I can’t spell worth beans and gave up on the checkbook years ago.

So we’re a blend. We complement each other. We always say that between us we can write two books together. One really great one, and one that’s just a pile. Let’s hope we got it right!

My toddler is a pretty adventurous eater. She’s willing to try any new food at least once, and at various points since starting solids has sampled falafel, pad thai, hummus, and various Indian dishes. Her favorite condiment is sweet chili sauce.

But when it comes to mixing food, ah…that’s another story.

She likes chicken, pasta, and frozen mixed vegetables, but then she summarily rejected a casserole I made recently using those very same ingredients. (Points were awarded for her ability to maintain a diplomatically polite expression while doing so!)

For me, the conflation of paranormal, fantasy, and science fiction romances under the paranormal marketing label is perplexing, and as unappetizing as that casserole was for my daughter. Of course, there’s a history of SF and fantasy being grouped together as often fans of one are fans of the other (“SF/F” being a much bandied about phrase). But not always. Even so, I’d much prefer that bookstores shelve the two genres separately, as wild of a dream that is and will continue to be for as long as they exist.

I’m a big fan of horror, but despite my occasional foray into SF horror blends such as John Carpenter’s THE THING and ALIEN, I view them as two very distinct genres. I’m not alone, either, as evidenced by marketing labels declaring books as either “SF” or “Horror” (or my “favorite” euphemism for horror, “Psychological Suspense”). Paranormal is strongly associated with horror. When I hear about romance stories involving demons, for example, that says horror to me—no matter how sexy or non-threatening the demon may be.

I should acknowledge that there are stories blending SF/fantasy/paranormal concepts—at that point, marketing labels are meaningless because it’s an art thing, you know? But when I encounter the term “paranormal” applied to elements in science fiction and fantasy stories—like aliens, for example—I simply don’t get it.

I’m accustomed to certain labels for certain stories—aliens in SF, elves in fantasy, and ghosts in paranormal, for example. I worry that the tendency to group SF and fantasy romances with paranormal ones risks confusing readers and makes it more difficult for authors to promote the unique aspects of their stories. My concern only increased when an author recently shared that a reader had asked a question regarding perceived paranormal elements in the author’s science fiction romance story.

Even if fans of science fiction romance are more likely to be fans of fantasy romance and/or paranormal, is that still just cause for grouping them all under the paranormal umbrella?

There’s the business side to marketing as well, and I understand that the word “paranormal” on the spine sells books. But I think there’s a limit to its effectiveness, especially when readers start using one term to describe unique elements from three different subgenres. And when it comes to online forums or blogs, those entities don’t operate under the constraints of a publisher’s marketing campaign—so why perpetuate a label unnecessarily?

Does it help when readers think they are purchasing one type of book when in fact it’s another one entirely? Is disguising a story’s genre through cover art, spine label, and jacket copy acceptable because of the assumption that a reader who enjoys a paranormal romance involving incubi or ghosts will equally enjoy a tale involving wormholes and nanotechnology?

My toddler might have been onto something when she pushed away that casserole. Sometimes it pays for certain food groups to hang out (and with sublime results). But, it’s also easier to distinguish and savor the individual qualities of foods when tasted alone.

Therefore, I’d love to hear your thoughts about science fiction and fantasy romances getting their own playground.

Last week, I had to visit my bank in person to get a new ATM card, and the bank manager happened to be in my branch, covering a vacancy. She asked if I had a new book coming out any time soon. “On the shelves as we speak,” I said, and pulled out a postcard I was taking to a local bookseller. “Please tell the other women, too.”

She was so happy! Looking at the postcard, she said, “These are my favorite books. My family always wants to know why I read them and I say ‘they are candy for the mind.’ I can just escape when I read them.”

“Don’t apologize,” I said. “You’re allowed to choose whatever kind of reading material you like. You’re an adult, and well aware of all the choices out there. If romance works for you, read them proudly. People don’t apologize for liking romantic comedies at the movies, or chick flicks. They like them. So what?”

“Oh!” She inclined her head, recognition dawning. “That’s true. Why is that?”

I have no idea.

The local paper is running a new book column, written by a young woman who likes to read and wants to talk about her favorites. I am delighted to see local material on books, and applaud the troubled newspaper for trying this approach. She seems to enjoy commercial fiction, especially mysteries, and for me—a commercial fiction writer—this is even better news. (For the record, I welcome ALL book coverage in all venues, it’s just especially nice to see the commercial fiction angle covered once in awhile.)

Last week, she decided to wade into romance. And before I tackle the paragraph that stuck in my craw, I want to say that she enjoyed the romance that she read, very much, and can’t wait for the next one in the series.

She begins by telling us that she’s not much of a romance kind of person, candles and movie love stories, all that. Which is fine. We do not all like the same things, the same books, even the same genres. The paragraph that made me sigh in exasperation is this one:

“Despite my warped sense of romance, I decided to brave [there be monsters here] the romance aisle at Barnes and Noble. There’s a huge population of readers who love book covers featuring shots of near naked models overlaid with suggestive titles. I wanted to honor those romance junkies, but wanted to stretch their reading limits, too. So I didn’t pick just any romance. Uh-uh. I picked The Accidental Demon Slayer by Angie Fox. “ (Anita Miller, The Gazette Telegraph, Sunday Jan 18)

Two things are frustrating about this paragraph. The first is her assumption that romance readers need someone to take them by the hand and stretch their boundaries, which I will address in a moment.

The other assumption is a little more subtle. She goes on to give a great synopsis of the book, and a thoughtful review, and she really loved it, which is all great for the genre, and paranormals in particular. But I bet she is still holding her nose when she enters the romance section of the store, thinking not, “Wow, I found such a great new genre to read!” but, “I have found the only romance out there that’s not a piece of crap.”

It’s just so frustrating, maybe the most frustrating thing about the on-going, practically immovable prejudice that surrounds our genre. When I first began writing category romance, a very well educated relative read my book and said, “Well, it’s still not really my thing, but you are such a good writer you write above it.”

Um. No. Since she had read NO OTHER CATEGORY ROMANCE EVER, she had no idea there were tons of books out there that were quite a lot better than mine. Not your thing? I get that. Judging a genre you don’t know at all? That I don’t.

And yet, my relative knew best, didn’t she? She knows about romance, not from personal experience, but because everyone just knows and understands, like the sky is blue and the gravity holds us to the earth beneath our feet, that romance novels are just trashy and poorly written.

Which is what our columnist knew, too: romance readers require guidance, poor dears, from a more experienced and thoughtful reader, help them expand their horizons. It never occurred to her that romance readers might read many kinds of books, just as she does. That it is quite possible to read a romance on Tuesday and a food memoir on Saturday and a paranormal next Monday, with the last week of the month set aside for reading her book club choice, which is a serious novel about Afghanistan.

Never crossed her mind that a highly educated bank manager could walk into a bookstore, right past all the tables of new books of endless varieties, skip the mysteries and the literary fiction and the Oprah club books, and head to the romance shelves by choice.

Yes, I’m ranting. Yes, I am exasperated. I have been writing some form of romance novel for twenty years and reading them for way longer than that. It is as marvelously varied and rich and even as pathetically bad as any other genre. I’m not on a quest to convert readers who like very serious work or science fiction war games to my genre. But I don’t speak to nuances I don’t understand in genres I have not read.

I applaud the young columnist for wading into the romance section to read a romance for a column on commercial fiction. I respect her willingness, so I didn’t blast her with a letter to the editor. Instead, maybe I’ll send her a copy of The Lost Recipe for Happiness, my own sexy, romantic women’s fiction book, and hope she’ll read a local writer. Perhaps I’ll include a cheerful breakdown of the various categories of romance novels, so she can check out others she’d like, a recommendation of other paranormal authors she’d enjoy. Maybe she’ll discover she likes many kinds of romances.

Or not. At least she will be somewhat better educated. One more and one more and one more….and eventually, maybe, one day we won’t have to write any more of these letters.

What do you do when you’re confronted with readers who apologize for reading romances, or run into the uniformed? Do you blast them with facts? Tease them with humor? Ignore it with a big roll of the eyes? What?

A couple months ago, I performed my last bit of volunteering for a while, teaching some computer savvy to the residents of a local retirement community. The minute the discussion turned to the internet, one of the ladies wanted to know if she could order books online, followed by a chorus of support from the others.

I made some joke that they needed to slow down if they were reading faster than book donations come to the rec center. There were snorts of disgust, which I attributed to it not being a very funny joke.  (I’m in a slump.)

While I was demonstrating the search function of one bookseller’s site, one of the ladies asked for a particular book that I knew I’d donated less than a month earlier. I said so. Her response: “That’s very nice, dear, but most of those donations are in the trash before we ever see them.”

We snuck down the hall (with all the stealth you’d expect of a group of twenty, two with walkers, one in a wheelchair) to the room designated as a library. I gasped when they turned on the lights. Floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall shelves.

ONE of which had books sitting on it.

I’ve personally donated enough books over the past ten years to fill up that library, and I’m not the only one. I’ve served on committees to organize book drives that each collected nearly a thousand books for that library.

ONE SHELF?!?!

The ladies explained (after I wound down from my rant) that someone has taken it upon themselves to impose “community decency standards” upon the library, which means the residents—who range in age from 65 to 102, who have lived through several wars and the Depression and civil unrest, who have spawned countless children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren—must be sheltered from reading material which contains coarse language, violence, and—shield your eyes, precious innocents!—sex.

I called the administrator the following day to express my dismay about the state of the “library.” She explained that one resident had taken responsibility for maintenance of the library. We went round and round about the unfairness to the rest of the community, the final outcome being that the administrator would rather deprive the entire community of reading than cause offense to anyone.

She was not impressed by my suggestion that “anyone” could avoid offense by staying the hell out of the library.

The other half of my book donations go to a women’s shelter, and I began to wonder if that was another route straight to the landfill. The administrator there assured me all book donations are appreciated. Their library overflows and spills out into the hall once or twice a year, at which point they cull the books that get the least attention, sell them, and put the proceeds back into the shelter.

I asked if she was at all concerned about exposing the women in the shelter to coarse language, violence, and sex. Her response: “For most of these women, a significant element of abuse is having their choices taken away from them. We don’t do that here.”

I’m trying to rally the bawdy broads of the retirement community to reclaim their library from its self-appointed censor. Until they stage their coup, I’ll be sending all my cussing, fighting, and smutty castoffs where I know they’ll be put to good use.

What with Black Friday bargains, holiday gifts and post-holiday sales, a lot of us were playing with new gizmos and gadgets as we rang in the New Year.

One of the things I found most frustrating while researching newer techno-goodies was trying to find reviews by people with the same needs and desires as I have. Reading two hundred thirty-eight reviews on the Best Buy site may have been helpful with the basics but not the practical day-to-day needs of an author or an ebook reader.

I thought, now that we’ve had our new gizmos for a month or so, why not share some hands-on, our world opinions for those considering gadget purchases of their own. As it happens, I got both writer and reader gadgets this holiday season, so I’ll start.

The Asus EEE PC 900a netbook: Shortly before Christmas I bought this—the Linux 4GB SSD $280 at Best Buy one—for myself. I’d done some research before hand, so I was fully aware of the severe limitations of the machine. What I was looking for: basically I wanted something as portable as an Alphasmart, but with a backlight, more lines visible per page and keys I didn’t need to poke hard.

What I got: To say the Asus is smaller and lighter than my monster Toshiba laptop is an understatement. I love that. Unfortunately, that’s about all I love. I knew the keyboard was small, but the position of the spacebar is awkward if you’re writing more than a few sentences. I noticed recently that, when using the Asus, I touch-type with my left hand, but do all of my right-hand typing with my middle finger. A hybrid method, I guess. It’s faster than handwriting, slower than full touch-typing.

The computer comes at like 96% full. I don’t think I can even download the waiting updates. I knew before I bought it that would be the case and I work from the jump drive. No biggie. I’m a little annoyed by the amount of primitive, useless games and programs that can’t be deleted. And the touchpad sucks. Horribly. I use a USB mouse, which puts a little dent in the portability aspect.

It was perfect for our trip up to camp, though, and I did use it quite a bit there. But there are only two reasons I use it at home instead of the laptop: 1) if I’m just going to bomb around the net, it’s light and small on my lap and 2) I make a point of being seen using it to deprive my husband of the “I told you so” opportunity.

Would I recommend the Asus EEE PC 900a netbook to a working writer? NO.

The iPod Touch: I asked for an iPod Nano because my mp3 player wasn’t iTunes compatible, meaning I couldn’t benefit from my son’s downloads, but the husband surprised me with the Touch. I was a little intimidated at first, but then I turned it on.

First, after a month of interacting with the common-sense-driven Touch, I’ve decided Microsoft is nothing more than a mass science experiment testing how insanely frustrated they can make consumers before we implode. My next laptop will be a Mac, even if I have to sell my car to afford one.

Once I had the Touch powered up, I remembered reading about Harlequin and Stanza offering 4 free Minis for the iPhone, and since the Touch is essentially an iPhone with no phone or camera, I decided to try it. It was so incredibly easy to put Stanza and the books on the device, I was sure I must have missed something, but no…it was that simple.

I hadn’t read many pages before I knew I wouldn’t be reading ebooks on my Palm TX anymore. There’s something crisp and attractive about the look of the page on the Touch, and the pages turn with a swipe of the thumb. Instead of keeping my thumb near the bottom of the Palm to hit the button, I can turn the page from wherever my thumb naturally rests.

Not that it’s without a “cons” column. One, the device is so small and sleek, it can actually be hard/awkward to hold. I solved that with a leather case that was half-price at Borders. (Accessories for the iPod Touch are seriously overpriced. Another not so nice aspect.) Two, none of the formats the eHarlequin ebook site sells work with my Touch as far as I can tell. With my Palm TX, I had Mobipocket. Everybody sells the Mobipocket format. But if a Touch reader wants an ebook from eHarlequin (which is nice because you can get them early), she’s left with three options. 1) Wait until it’s released on Fictionwise in eReader format. 2) Have to read on—and keep track of and charge—two separate devices. 3) Crack the DRM in order to load it on the device of choice, which is illegal in the United States, among other places. Not a very nice predicament in which to leave a loyal reader. But, that’s the publisher’s shortcoming, not the device’s. (And if I’m wrong about their lack of compatibility, please, please let me know.)

Overall, the ease of use and the look of the books make the iPod Touch my new ebook reader of choice. Caveat: I’ve never used a dedicated ebook reader, such as the Kindle or the Sony, and I understand the screens are larger. I, personally, am not willing to spend that much only to read a book, so I’ve always used multi-function devices (the iPaq, then the Palm, and now the Touch). $230 for the Touch may seem like a lot, too, but if you’d pay $115 for a good mp3 player and $115 for a good ebook reader, then everything else the Touch can do—and it can do a lot—is just a bonus.

Would I recommend the iPod Touch as an ebook reader? YES.

There are a few other reviews I’d like to point out:

Jane’s technology articles for Dear Author are an incredible resource (look for the tag cloud in the sidebar and click on ”ebook-technology” or use the search function for a specific product).

John Scalzi gives an update on how he and his Acer Aspire One netbook are getting along here. (I kick myself for not getting one of these instead of the Asus.)

Angela James is Breaking up with the Kindle

Jan reviews the Sony PRS 505 for Dear Author here

How about you? Have you had some hands-on experience with any of the techno-goodies being talked about around the ‘net? Do you have a gizmo you’d recommend to other writers or a gadget you think other readers would like?

by Special Guest Lori Borrill

This year, I had the pleasure of working on a project for Harlequin with fellow Blaze authors, Alison Kent, Julie Miller and Jennifer LaBrecque. It is the 0-60 Series, the Blaze line’s contribution to the 60th anniversary celebration going on during 2009.

The series loosely centers around drag racing–a subject I know zero about–and luckily for me, my part in the project was the short story on-line prequel that didn’t require too much knowledge of the subject. Because really, if I may confess, I absolutely hate research.

I know if I’d been given a bigger part in the series, I would have handled it. After all, I do have to do some research for every book I write. But that’s usually relatively light, limited to short interviews and some internet searching. But doing anything heavy that would require weeks of study is a task I’m beginning to think would be seriously beyond me.

I remember last year, I had submitted a story idea to my editor that she ultimately passed on. At the time, I’d been pretty excited about the idea. The book was going to have a historical element, and this is where her rejection ended up being both a disappointment and a relief. You see, I’m not much of a history buff. It was one of my worst subjects in school, and when it comes to movies and books, I’m not much into period pieces. I’d thought I could handle this one because the actual historical element would have only been about 10 pages of the book and was set during the great 1906 San Francisco earthquake and fire. I thought with the additional element of the famous tragedy, I could study that period and stay interested.

I couldn’t. In fact, I had such a hard time researching the facts that I’d decided not to bother until I got the thumbs up from my editor and was forced into it.

I’d learned in that exercise just how much I hate research. And when my editor said the idea was too quiet and romantic for Blaze, I actually breathed a sigh of relief. Now I wouldn’t have to grill the historical society for details. I wouldn’t have to pick up that book I’d bought and drudge through it. I could go back to doing the type of preparation I really like, and that’s cutting pictures of George Clooney out of People magazine and tacking them to my board for inspiration, then moving on to Car & Driver to decide what model sports car he should be driving.

Granted, like I’d said, with every book I write, there’s some element that requires I look into a certain career, a field of work, a town, how a type of business is structured or what the weather’s like in a particular area at a particular time of year. But that’s relatively light compared to the lengths required by historical writers. And after my little travail into the idea of a 10-page historical prequel, I’ve developed a deep admiration for all of them.

I realized when plotting those 10 pages set in 1906 that I couldn’t write ANYTHING without knowing the period intimately. What were my characters wearing? How did they speak? Would she be escorted by her family? Could she be alone at a train station with the hero? Would it even be a train? Basically, every word after “Once upon a time….” had to be studied, and to a contemporary author like me, it was pretty eye-opening.

I’ve since noticed that even the good contemporary authors spend a lot of time on their books. I now read their acknowledgements and notice the lengths many of the best selling authors go through to build their story. I’m beginning to realize that if I want to continue to improve my craft, I’m going to have to grin and bear heavy research at some point in my career. But I’ve been seriously dragging my feet. And fortunately, as I think through my next few projects, I won’t have to go there anytime soon.

So tell me. As writers, how you feel about research? Is it a part of the writing process you enjoy or dread? And as a reader, how much of your enjoyment comes from learning about places, careers or time periods you knew nothing about before?

Part of putting out a product for consumption and expecting consumers to pay for it is the need to accept criticism for said product. Once someone pays for something, they own it and have a right to proclaim dissatisfaction with it.

Authors must build a “thick skin” to prevent wounds from negative reviews. I remember my first bad review stinging like particularly nasty paper cut, but since then I’ve had far less trouble with them. I’ve come to find confidence from the knowledge that I wrote the best book I could at the time and I’m proud of the finished product, regardless of whether some find it lacking. There are two sides of the coin after all. Someone’s dislike is another person’s love. Books that a reader says they wasted their money on are the same books that are on another reader’s keeper shelf.

As a reader, I’ve found that bad reviews will sometimes goad me to buy a book. I rarely buy books based on reviews, but I’m pretty sure when I have bought a book because of a review, the review wasn’t positive. I know there are other readers like me who will buy regardless of the review, as well as readers who are wary of books with only positive reviews. We all have our quirks. However, there is a certain type of review that I have trouble being nonchalant about–the Wrong Review, reviews wherein some of the content is just plain wrong.

I’m not talking about perceived misconstructions about something I wrote. I see that as the reader’s experience and they own it; it’s theirs. It’s not my place to say, “I meant it like [insert reason] and you got it wrong,” because they didn’t get it wrong. They had a different experience with my words than I did. I’m talking about stating that something is in the book when it isn’t. Such as saying the hero is an ex-cop, when he isn’t. Or saying the heroine is widowed, when she was never married. Mistakes in relating facts, not perceptions.

It’s actually quite commonplace. I’ve had factual errors in reviews from both major publications and blogs. I’ve seen/read other authors privately bemoaning a review that’s wrong. If a reviewer thinks the heroine is stupid, that’s their right. If the reviewer states that the heroine is stupid because she used to be an FBI agent and should know better, but it was actually her sister who was the agent and the heroine teaches kindergarten… well, it grates. If the reviewer can’t remember the book well enough to know who’s who and what’s what, they really should skip reviewing the book.

Then I remind myself that I don’t think reviews influence sales overmuch, so does it matter? The reviews aren’t always bad when they’re wrong. Maybe it balances out? But no amount of reasoning stops it from mattering to me. Good or bad, I think reviews should be accurate. Despite this, I’ve only once sent a request for a mistake to be fixed (which it never was). It’s just too much stress risking the possibility that the reviewer might get defensive and in turn call me defensive and the whole thing turning into a mess. Much easier to just try and ignore it, and get back to work.

Funny enough, even knowing that there are chances I could be reading erroneous information, I don’t think about that while reading a review. Because of that, I guess it’s fortunate that reviews can lead me to buy a book, but they never make me skip a book.

A bit aside from the topic of errors, but still on topic about reviews is a blog post from the Baltimore Sun talking about reviewers taking heat for their reviews, which I guess makes sense, since posting a review is also putting something out there for public consumption.

Anyway, it’s a holiday weekend and I’m working madly on a deadline. Hopefully this wasn’t too much of a ramble and there’s something for us to chat about.