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Posts Tagged ‘creative writing’

Self-Promotion: the crude and unappealing practice of marketing one’s own work; in British slang, often called “flogging.”

I’ve only met one writer who actually enjoys flogging his books. He travels up and down the coast, reading excerpts, glad-handing, meeting people, building an impressive network. For every other writer I’ve met, mention the word “promotion” and watch them wince.

We hate promoting our books. HateitHateitHateit. Some writers hate it so much, they don’t do it at all.

But according to ND Author Services (aka NDAS, run by bestselling authors Barb and J.C. Hendee, who–believe me–know what they’re talking about), there’s some good news. As with everything else in the publishing industry, self-promotion–the very nature of it–is changing.

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Stack of BooksEmbedded within this paragraph is an “error.”  Can you find it?  Is it glaringly obvious?  I’m guessing that it isn’t.  In fact, I’d bet that until I point it out to you, you won’t realize it’s there.  Want a hint?  It’s not grammatical.  It’s not punctuation, either.  It’s . . . Wait for it.  Wait for it. . .

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Bath Abbey Fan VaultingSometimes, the word “interesting” isn’t enough.

This weekend past, as well as being sad, stressful, productive, lazy, and maddening, was also interesting.

It was the 31st anniversary of my wedding. It was the yahrzeit of the death of my wife’s mother. It was a weekend of plans, and of disrupted plans. It was a weekend with three reservations to the same restaurant, each one made and canceled in daily succession. It was a weekend of editing, rereading and rewriting my latest short story (“The Book of Solomon”), proofing it, polishing it, and then sending it off to a paying market.

It was also the weekend when I got an email from the Senior Librarian in Sumner, WA, asking if I’d be interested in participating in a panel, this October.

Yeah, “interesting” doesn’t really cover it.

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NikeLast weekend, the Seattle Times ran two opposing op-eds on the Amazon/Hachette contretemps. Frank Schaeffer wrote in favor of Amazon, while Nina Laden countered in favor of Hachette, creating a “debate” of sorts. I put “debate” in quotes because, from a purely debating standpoint, it was no contest.

Unfortunately, both pieces missed the main point.

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Lupine Hi-RiseI’ve never really been one who lost things. (Except for gloves. I used to lose gloves all the time.) And I’m especially good about computer files. After once losing the first three chapters of a novel, I got really strict about my file management methods.

So, back in the mid-Naughties, when I “lost” a handful of poems, I was pretty mad at myself. Granted, I had a couple of “vascular events” during that time, brought on by workload and stress, but still, I was disappointed. I mean, how can you “lose” a computer file? Luckily, I was able to recreate most of them from offsite storage, but a few were lost and gone forever.

Then, two days ago, while editing my latest short story, I noticed a folder in my “Writing” directory. The folder was labeled: Poetry.

Guess what I found in there.

Here’s one of them: Non-Euclidean Geometry

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Chamomile

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Kurt R.A. GiambastianiOkay, so I don’t always think things through.

Ages ago, when I was writing nothing but short fiction and sending out MSS to the far corners of the publishing world, I had an idea for a computer application for writers. It was a struggle to keep track of where my dozens of MSS were; where they out with a publisher? For how long? Too long?

So I thought: What if you could enter the names of all your MSS into an app, note when you sent it out, and keep track of where everything was and how long it had been there?

It seemed like a good idea, and so I cracked my knuckles and began to write the code for my MSTracker app.

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Stack of Books

After successfully avoiding pen and paper during my recent vacation (Thank you, World Cup!) on Sunday I finally grabbed myself by the collar, sat myself down at the deck table, put a pen in my hand and paper before me, and started the short story that has been nipping at my heels like a poorly trained corgi for nearly a month.

I started writing at about 7AM Sunday and finished it at around 11PM. It clocked in at about 3000 words.

For me, that is fast writing. But that wasn’t the interesting bit.

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