August 30th, 2010

Bonnet books continue to grow in popularity

It’s not only the hot unrequited longing between Edward and Bella that’s gripping readers. USA Today reports, “The Amish inspirational is one of the fastest-growing genres in romance publishing. For many readers today, it's all about the bonnet. In our sex-soaked society, nothing seems to inflame the imagination quite like the chaste.”

Read more here.



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Is print dead? Is traditionally publishing? One author looks at the math

Tim Ferris, author of The 4-Hour Workweek, Expanded and Updated: Expanded and Updated, With Over 100 New Pages of Cutting-Edge Content. looks at some commonly held beliefs. Is print dead? Is traditional publishing dead?

Some points:
- "Reputation, at least in the mainstream and for the next few years, is difficult to build if you self-publish."

- "The downside is that you need to be a world-class marketer and understand affiliate and CPA advertising better than anyone else in your niche (since there is little barrier to entry, and therefore plenty of competition)."

- He also says, "In my last royalty statement, December 2009, digital book sales (all formats, including Kindle) totaled…. ready?… a mere 1.6% of total units sold."

Note that he writes non-fiction.


Read more here.



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A sight I didn't want to see again

This morning, a little after seven a.m., I was running up Vermont Street. Well, mostly running up, because it is a steep hill that goes pretty much nothing but up for quite a few blocks. I glanced into a silver Jeep as I walk/ran/staggered it. A man was sleep in the front seat, curled away from me, his head resting partly on the window and partly on the headrest. I couldn't see his face, so I have no idea how old he is. His shirt and coat (it got down to about 50 degree last night) were rucked up in the back, and I saw a pale, vulnerable slice of his lower back.

It feels like I have been here before. Because I have. Back in 2007, with a 62-year-old guy named Paul. Paul, who had a drinking problem (which took me a while to figure out), a wife who had kicked him out, and most of his possessions in a Barbur Boulevard storage unit. Paul, who liked to read. Paul, who ended up in the hospital for ten days and discharged back to the street with a dozen prescriptions, most of which said they needed to be taken with food. Paul, who was trying to live on, more or less, the weekday lunch offered at Loaves and Fishes. Paul, who didn't ask for anything but who would take what I gave.

But I already have the cat we never wanted (and still, to be honest, don't). Part of me hopes the guy in the silver Jeep is not there when I go running again.



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