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Showing posts from March, 2006

Recycling . . .

Jesus, take me now. I’ve seen everything. Several times a week, I receive solicitations from authors hoping to get their book(s) carried in my store.  While I’m a big believer in self-promotion, I’ve discovered that (as in any other endeavor) there’s a right way and a wrong way to approach it, and the differences between these two methods are small, but significant. Two years ago, at the World Horror Convention in Phoenix AZ, I spent an afternoon drinking and sermonizing about the ins and outs of the book business, concentrating on what grabs my attention as a manager and a merchandiser.  Some highlights included: If you send me a letter, make sure to follow the basic, minimum tenets of Strunk & White.  If you can’t write a simple letter, why should I believe you can write anything else? Always get a wedge of lime for your Corona. It just doesn’t taste right without it. Never call a bookstore and promote a fictitious appearance or media interview just to ge...

Recharging . . .

There are times when I’m ready to quit.  Really.  Chuck this frustrating, maddening, consuming avocation and find some shaggy hedges to prune.  Or patterns to sew.  Or cakes to decorate.  Something –anything- other than the constant keyboard pounding that only serves to keep the levees of my mind from breaking in a Katrina-like flood. Eventually, I get over it. Usually, I’m recharged by reading or watching something that inspires me, and I’m not talking about Dr. Phil or Oprah.  There are a lot of talented storytellers out there, but only a few that can break the doldrums and push me back in front of the keyboard. Tonight, I’ve added Shane Ryan to that short list. We all loved Dirty Harry; he did the things we wanted to but couldn’t.  We all loved John McClane; he was a maverick that wouldn’t kowtow to the system or the pricks that ran it.   Burke’s a thief and a con-man, but he has a mission that mitigates...