I've been to a lot of author events, readings and signings and the like, and they can be a fun, inspiring way to interact with favorite authors. I recently saw Madeline Miller give a reading and short talk and got to meet her briefly while she signed my copy of Circe. It was a lovely evening, and it got me thinking about other ways I've seen authors interacting with readers and fans. Here are a few that never fail to make me smile.
Patreon Rewards
I see more and more authors starting Patreons so fans can support their work monetarily if they like, and while my feelings about that as a thing that published authors have to do are complicated, the support flowing toward the author and the engagement of the author with fans this allows warms my heart a bit, NGL. And many authors get nicely into the spirit of things, providing exciting and fun rewards for their Patreon supportors, like book swag and exclusive content like short stories in the world of their books.
Engaging on Tumblr
A fair few authors post on Tumblr, but what I love is to see an author with an open ask box who periodically picks some questions to answer. This could be such a chore, and I can certainly see why an author might just keep that ask box closed even if they maintain a presence on the site, so it feels real nice to see authors thoughtfully answering reader questions and engaging with them. Whenever I see a fan tell an author how much they love their work and then the author is all genuine and pleased in response, it gets me right *there,* ya know? Two authors I know of who do this are Neil Gaiman and Diane Duane, should you want to check them out.
Signing Airport Bookstore Stock
This is perhaps my favorite of all the ways I've seen authors engage with fans, probably because it carries with it such potential for genuine surprise and delight for a lucky fan. I've never come across a signed book in an airport bookstore, but several of the authors I follow on Twitter frequently mention that they've signed all the copies of their latest book in the shop in Terminal Whichever at Such-and-Such Airport. And it makes me grin when I see those tweets. Some fan might pick up a book idly and have that little moment of "Oh!" when they see it's signed. Or! Imagine hanging out at your gate scrolling Twitter and seeing that one of your favorites has just finished signing copies in the very airport in which you sit! Such fun.
How do you see authors engaging with fans that hits you in the warm fuzzies?
Wednesday, June 20, 2018
Wednesday, May 30, 2018
Favorite Reads by Publication Year
In the back half of last year, it seems everyone I knew on LibraryThing was compiling a list of their favorite books published from each year of their life. I avoided making my own for a while, not because I disliked the idea (I love lists) but because I thought it would take a lot of doing. But eventually the excitement of putting together such a list was too much for me to resist, and I spent a delightful afternoon pouring over publication lists by year and marking out possibilities for each year of my life. The resulting list is below, with links to my reviews of those books where I have a review online. (Be aware that some of those reviews might be spoilery, though most of them probably indicate as such near the beginning of the review itself. The reviews are also presented "as is"--some of them are over ten years old, and I'm sure there are errors and bits I would do differently now. They form a snapshot of my life in the same way the list itself does, I suppose.)
I intend to keep this list updated as the years continue to pass, perhaps revising some of the earlier years as I read more backlist. It's a fun way to envision a life.
Are any of your favorites here? Which books would you choose?
I intend to keep this list updated as the years continue to pass, perhaps revising some of the earlier years as I read more backlist. It's a fun way to envision a life.
Are any of your favorites here? Which books would you choose?
1981—Early Autumn
1982—Howliday Inn
1983—A Solitary Blue
1985—Lonesome Dove
1986—A Murder for Her Majesty
1987—Calvin and Hobbes
1988—Matilda
1989—Number the Stars
1990—Jurassic Park
1991—Heir to the Empire
1993—Trainspotting
1994—The Chamber
1995—The Courtship of Princess Leia
1996—The Sparrow
1997—Moab Is My Washpot
1998—About a Boy
2001—Atonement
2003—The Namesake
2005—Twilight
2006—The Thirteenth Tale
2008—Melusine
2009—1Q84
2010—Annabel
2011—The Song of Achilles
2013—Fangirl
2014—Yes, Please!
2015—For Real
2016—The Nix
Wednesday, May 9, 2018
Laura Recommends. . . .
When a thing strikes me as particularly amusing or lovely or informative, I want other people to find it and be amused or love it or learn from it too. So in that spirit, recommendations for things I think will warp your starship (as it were). Onward!
Laura Recommends...
...a podcast: A Good Read
A production of the BBC, this show is hosted by Harriet Gilbert, who every week sits down with two guests to discuss the three books (one chosen by each of the guests and one by Gilbert) all three have read for the program. As far as I can see, the only criteria for the books is that the person who chooses it thinks it is "a good read," and as such there's a wonderful variety of kinds of books featured. Guests on the show also tend to be of diverse backgrounds, which is a delight. The show is on hiatus at the moment (I believe it comes back in June), but the archives contain years of episodes for your very much listening pleasure right now.
...a short, deep dive: Pantsuit Politics interviews a dairy farmer
I've recommended the podcast Pantsuit Politics before, but today I'm suggesting a segment of a particular episode. In the most recent episode, Beth interviewed Carilynn Coombs, who owns a dairy farm with her husband. They discuss how a dairy farm works--both the hands-on farming parts and the business, administrative side--and the state of milk production and distribution in the US and why so many small dairies are in trouble. It's fascinating and important. Start at minute 24:05 to hear just the interview. It runs for about forty minutes.
...a TV show: Chef's Table
Chef's Table is a documentary Netflix original. Each episode (about an hour long) is a portrait of a world-renowned chef. These are absolutely fascinating and deeply compelling investigations of creativity, genius, ambition, and set-back. (As the chefs are from all over the world, there is often some wonderful photography of various landscapes, street markets, etc.) While the style of the show remains consistent from episode to episode (it's easy to tell you're watching Chef's Table and not some other show), beyond that there's little in the way of format to the way the episodes are presented. Usually there are some brief "talking heads" snippets with people who know the chef who is the subject of the episode and there are always a few close-ups of some signature dishes, but otherwise each episode's structure is dictated by the life and interests of the chef in the episode. All the episodes seem to go together, but no two feel alike. This distinction keeps the show fresh. I've never seen an installment that wasn't good, but I particularly recommend Volume 1, episode 3, and Volume 2, episode 1 and episode 5. Be aware that Volume 2, episode 1, contains some potentially upsetting/triggering discussion of cancer.
...an audiobook: The Uncommon Reader
This 2007 novella about Queen Elizabeth II discovering the joys of reading is a delight in print, but the audio book, which the author, Alan Bennett, reads himself, is just superb. It's funny and insightful and will make you think about reading and life and duty. I've both read and listened to the book, and Bennett's narration definitely adds a little something to the experience. At just under two and a half hours, it's perfect for listening to in one go, perhaps during an afternoon lie-about in the hammock or a car trip.
...a curiosity in the publishing world: Romance Author Trademarks "Cocky", Romance Community Responds
Recently a romance author trademarked the word "cocky," claiming other authors' use of the word was infringing on her brand, a series of books using "cocky" in the series title. The romance community is... not happy. This is amusing from the outside, but it's causing a good deal of anxiety and loss of sales (and thus money, obviously) for several independently published romance authors who have received cease and desist letters. That the author received the trademark is also a fairly concerning precedent. This story is continuing to develop, so if you're, like, *super* interested, follow the hashtag #cockygate on Twitter.
Wednesday, May 2, 2018
Reviewing the Book of the Month Club
If you hang out on Litsy or in other bookish places, chances are good you've seen a lot of swooning over "BOTM" at the beginning of every month. BOTM is the Book of the Month Club, a monthly book subscription service that first started in 1926 and relaunched in 2015 in a modern, online-based format. I got worn down by all the shiny posts and enthusiasm I was seeing about BOTM and finally subscribed last summer. Now that I've been a member for well over six months, I thought I'd write up my experience for anyone considering a membership.
How It Works:
Membership in BOTM is $14.99 per month, for which you can choose any one of the five selected books for the month (announced on the first of each month). Membership also allows you to choose up to two extras per month (from previous month's selections) for $9.99 each. BOTM will never ship you a book you did not choose. If you don't want any of the five selections for the month, you can skip the month on the website; doing so means you will not be charged for that month and nothing will be sent to you. If you do not choose a book but don't actively skip the month, you will be charged the $14.99 and will receive a credit that you can use at a later date for any book on the site. (There's a small catch to this bit, which I will discuss in my cons section below.)
The Books, Content:
BOTM books are recently released titles (often within a few weeks of the date they first become available at BOTM; sometimes a book is available at BOTM before its publication date, in which case BOTM members who select that book will usually have it before it is available in stores.) The books include fiction and nonfiction, and there is usually a good diversity of genres within each month's five selections. In my experience, the books are typically mysteries/thrillers, literary fiction, "beach reads," and general nonfiction. Occasionally I've seen a sci-fi or fantasy selection, but never a romance (some "woman's fiction" (picture the face I'm making at this term, go on, picture it), which often shares some tropes and plot expectations with romance, but). Most of the genre fiction, though not all, at BOTM is of the type that comfortably crosses over, at least a bit, with general fiction. They are usually books that you will be hearing people talk about in the weeks to come (although to what degree that, itself, is attributable to them being BOTM selections, I don't know.) They will be good books, and mainstream books, is what I'm saying, but mostly of a few types.
The Books, as Objects:
When I was a kid, there were a number of Book of the Month Club editions kicking around my parents' and grandparents' houses, from much earlier incarnations of the club. They were easy to pick out because they were special editions for the club and their format (and often cover design) was different from the edition of the same book you could have bought in a bookstore. This is no longer the case with BOTM titles. They are special editions printed especially for BOTM, but their overall formatting and design is nearly identical to the edition of the book you would buy from B&N, Amazon, your local independent, and so on.
The minor differences between a BOTM edition and editions sold elsewhere include:
*The coloring on the boards (all BOTM editions are hardcovers) of the books themselves may be slightly different from editions in stores. My BOTM edition of Circe has black boards with a vertical orange strip encasing the spine. The edition in stores does not have the orange strip. All of the BOTM editions I have received have two-toned boards like this; I can only specifically comment on the comparison to store editions for Circe, as it is the only title I've seen in both editions. But at a guess I'd say the two-tone boards are a feature of the BOTM editions.
*BOTM editions carry dust jackets in the same design as books appearing in stores except that the BOTM logo appears in the upper right-hand corner of the front of the dust jacket and on the top of the spine of the dust jacket. BOTM editions also carry no paratext on the back of the dust jacket (no blurbs or descriptions, as might appear on the edition sold elsewhere) and instead say "I love BOTM," with "BOTM" appearing inside a heart. The month and year that the title was a selection on BOTM are listed underneath this inscription.
*The BOTM logo is embossed on the front board and any embossing that might usually appear on books by the publisher of the title will be missing. The BOTM logo is also embossed on the top of the spine.
*BOTM editions feel light for their size. My guess is that they are printed on thinner and/or lighter weight paper than most hardcovers. The paper does not, however, feel cheap. It is certainly not noticeably thin to the touch. The ink does not come off on one's fingers, as often happens with cheaply printed books, such as some mass market paperbacks.
Overall, BOTM editions are pleasing objects. They also look nice lined up next to one another on a shelf.
Pros of Membership:
Overall, I'd say my experience with BOTM has been positive. As I see it, these are the highlights of Book of the Month as a subscription service:
*The books are inexpensive. Barring special deals or promotions, you're going to have a hard time finding a brand new hardcover for $14.99 anywhere else. Prices on Amazon are rarely that low for hardcover new releases (in my experience, new books priced in the ~27 dollar range don't usually go lower than ~17 on Amazon in the days right around the release). The same hardcover at B&N, if it is part of their 30% off new releases program and if you are also a member (10% discount) and if you have a good coupon (20% off) and if you have their credit card that gives you a 5% rebate on your bill, that $27 dollar book, after tax, would come to ~$13.75. So if the stars align, you might could do better on price than BOTM, but it's not super likely.
*The website is slick. It's bright and pleasant and really easy to use. It's completely intuitive how to add books to your box, how to ship the box, and how to skip a month. It's also pretty user friendly for finding answers to questions you might have, including how to "unskip" a month if you change your mind. The website works equally well on a computer and a mobile device.
*The books arrive very nicely packaged. They come in an instantly recognizable flip-top box and the book/s inside are shrink wrapped for protection. I have never had a BOTM book arrive with a squished spine or a torn dusk jacket. (These days, it's about 60/40 at our house whether books from Amazon will arrive at least mildly damaged, so this is a bit of big deal for me.) Each order comes with a BOTM bookmark. If you're into that kind of thing, you can very easily make opening your BOTM box a small event. Especially if you're using BOTM as a kind of treat for yourself, this is a nice touch. The boxes are also great for storing small items under a bed or in a closet and are the perfect size for sending books through the mail. (Natch, as that's what they were designed for.) If you frequently send books as gifts or exchange reads with friends or family members, a small perk of your BOTM membership would be this monthly supply of the perfect boxes for winging those books on their way.
*The BOTM website has a forum for discussing each of the selections from every month. I have not used this feature, but if you want to discuss your book after reading it, that element is there. There's also a pretty active contingent of BOTM members on Litsy who share about their BOTM picks. If you're looking for an online social aspect to your reading, BOTM could help you find it.
*The books are titles people want to read. Obviously no selection of five books is ever going to please everyone every time, but the BOTM picks are never dregs or strange outliers. You may well come across a book you otherwise wouldn't, but I never feel like the selections are poor.
Cons of Membership:
It's not all rose hips and juniper berries at BOTM. I have almost cancelled my membership a handful of times--mostly for personal, idiosyncratic reasons--but here are my top bugaboos about BOTM:
*I don't love to read hardcovers. BOTM books are always hardcovers. *shrug* I mean, it is what it is, and most books come out in hardcover first. If you want a new release while it's still a new release, hardcover is usually what you got. But I prefer paperback so much and I have so many unread books in my house that I often find myself considering canceling BOTM just because the books aren't in the format I prefer. This one is really down to personal taste, but I'll give you this to chew on too: they're new release hardcovers but they aren't first editions. If you like hardcovers and any part of that has to do with collector-y interest in first editions and/or first printings, your BOTM membership isn't going to help you out there. A BOTM edition is its own separate thing in that sense.
*If you want to skip a month, you have to hit that "skip" button on the website by a certain date (usually the sixth of the month). If you don't do that, you get charged for the month but get no book. That charge gets you a credit you can use later. That's fair enough, I guess, although it used to be that simply not choosing a book skipped the month for you and you didn't get charged. That extra step seems to be designed to net BOTM some cash from forgetful members, especially if they keep forgetting and never use those credits.
*Every month you have the option of adding up to two extra books to your box at a discount ($9.99). This is a great deal dollar-wise. But there's a small catch. You can only add "extra" books if you choose one of the five books selected for the month. If you don't like any of the five for a given month, there is no way to choose an older book instead. You can only snag those older books as add-ons when you pick a selection of the month. I really wish you could just pick any available book (from the current selections and past selections) for your $14.99, but alas.
*Sometimes I go months on end without seeing a book in the monthly selections that I want. This is all about personal taste, of course, and I can just keep skipping months until something shows up I'm excited about, but it can be a bit of a letdown when all five picks make you go, "Bleh."
Who Should Join BOTM?
I think BOTM is an excellent subscription service for the right kind of reader. I'd recommend BOTM to anyone who would like to keep up with new releases without have to keep up with new releases. I'd also recommend it for anyone who likes to read (or maybe who used to and would like to get back into it) but isn't sure what to read or where to start. BOTM will drop five new releases into your email on the first of every month and boom! you have suggestions for your reading for the next few weeks. For anyone who is looking for a low-key, online book club vibe, BOTM might scratch that itch. It's pretty much guaranteed that a decent number of other people will be reading the same thing you are at the same time you are, and between the BOTM forums and BOTM members on other bookish websites, you should be able to find those people easily. Also, anyone who just loves book mail should enjoy BOTM. If you fit any of those descriptions, I think there's a strong chance you'll fine BOTM worth your time and dollars.
I don't recommend BOTM to readers who are trying to reduce their TBRs (BOTMs will pile up unread just like any other book purchases), anyone who strongly prefers reading in paperback or ebook, readers who are likely to forget to check the BOTM selection and hit that "skip" button if they don't want a book that month, and folks who prefer to read mostly in a genre not strongly represented at BOTM (such as romance, sci-fi, fantasy, specific nitty-gritty nonfiction topics, and cozy mysteries).
If any of you decide to try BOTM (or if you're already a member), let me know how it goes!
How It Works:
Membership in BOTM is $14.99 per month, for which you can choose any one of the five selected books for the month (announced on the first of each month). Membership also allows you to choose up to two extras per month (from previous month's selections) for $9.99 each. BOTM will never ship you a book you did not choose. If you don't want any of the five selections for the month, you can skip the month on the website; doing so means you will not be charged for that month and nothing will be sent to you. If you do not choose a book but don't actively skip the month, you will be charged the $14.99 and will receive a credit that you can use at a later date for any book on the site. (There's a small catch to this bit, which I will discuss in my cons section below.)
The Books, Content:
BOTM books are recently released titles (often within a few weeks of the date they first become available at BOTM; sometimes a book is available at BOTM before its publication date, in which case BOTM members who select that book will usually have it before it is available in stores.) The books include fiction and nonfiction, and there is usually a good diversity of genres within each month's five selections. In my experience, the books are typically mysteries/thrillers, literary fiction, "beach reads," and general nonfiction. Occasionally I've seen a sci-fi or fantasy selection, but never a romance (some "woman's fiction" (picture the face I'm making at this term, go on, picture it), which often shares some tropes and plot expectations with romance, but). Most of the genre fiction, though not all, at BOTM is of the type that comfortably crosses over, at least a bit, with general fiction. They are usually books that you will be hearing people talk about in the weeks to come (although to what degree that, itself, is attributable to them being BOTM selections, I don't know.) They will be good books, and mainstream books, is what I'm saying, but mostly of a few types.
The Books, as Objects:
When I was a kid, there were a number of Book of the Month Club editions kicking around my parents' and grandparents' houses, from much earlier incarnations of the club. They were easy to pick out because they were special editions for the club and their format (and often cover design) was different from the edition of the same book you could have bought in a bookstore. This is no longer the case with BOTM titles. They are special editions printed especially for BOTM, but their overall formatting and design is nearly identical to the edition of the book you would buy from B&N, Amazon, your local independent, and so on.
The minor differences between a BOTM edition and editions sold elsewhere include:
*The coloring on the boards (all BOTM editions are hardcovers) of the books themselves may be slightly different from editions in stores. My BOTM edition of Circe has black boards with a vertical orange strip encasing the spine. The edition in stores does not have the orange strip. All of the BOTM editions I have received have two-toned boards like this; I can only specifically comment on the comparison to store editions for Circe, as it is the only title I've seen in both editions. But at a guess I'd say the two-tone boards are a feature of the BOTM editions.
*BOTM editions carry dust jackets in the same design as books appearing in stores except that the BOTM logo appears in the upper right-hand corner of the front of the dust jacket and on the top of the spine of the dust jacket. BOTM editions also carry no paratext on the back of the dust jacket (no blurbs or descriptions, as might appear on the edition sold elsewhere) and instead say "I love BOTM," with "BOTM" appearing inside a heart. The month and year that the title was a selection on BOTM are listed underneath this inscription.
*The BOTM logo is embossed on the front board and any embossing that might usually appear on books by the publisher of the title will be missing. The BOTM logo is also embossed on the top of the spine.
*BOTM editions feel light for their size. My guess is that they are printed on thinner and/or lighter weight paper than most hardcovers. The paper does not, however, feel cheap. It is certainly not noticeably thin to the touch. The ink does not come off on one's fingers, as often happens with cheaply printed books, such as some mass market paperbacks.
Overall, BOTM editions are pleasing objects. They also look nice lined up next to one another on a shelf.
Pros of Membership:
Overall, I'd say my experience with BOTM has been positive. As I see it, these are the highlights of Book of the Month as a subscription service:
*The books are inexpensive. Barring special deals or promotions, you're going to have a hard time finding a brand new hardcover for $14.99 anywhere else. Prices on Amazon are rarely that low for hardcover new releases (in my experience, new books priced in the ~27 dollar range don't usually go lower than ~17 on Amazon in the days right around the release). The same hardcover at B&N, if it is part of their 30% off new releases program and if you are also a member (10% discount) and if you have a good coupon (20% off) and if you have their credit card that gives you a 5% rebate on your bill, that $27 dollar book, after tax, would come to ~$13.75. So if the stars align, you might could do better on price than BOTM, but it's not super likely.
*The website is slick. It's bright and pleasant and really easy to use. It's completely intuitive how to add books to your box, how to ship the box, and how to skip a month. It's also pretty user friendly for finding answers to questions you might have, including how to "unskip" a month if you change your mind. The website works equally well on a computer and a mobile device.
*The books arrive very nicely packaged. They come in an instantly recognizable flip-top box and the book/s inside are shrink wrapped for protection. I have never had a BOTM book arrive with a squished spine or a torn dusk jacket. (These days, it's about 60/40 at our house whether books from Amazon will arrive at least mildly damaged, so this is a bit of big deal for me.) Each order comes with a BOTM bookmark. If you're into that kind of thing, you can very easily make opening your BOTM box a small event. Especially if you're using BOTM as a kind of treat for yourself, this is a nice touch. The boxes are also great for storing small items under a bed or in a closet and are the perfect size for sending books through the mail. (Natch, as that's what they were designed for.) If you frequently send books as gifts or exchange reads with friends or family members, a small perk of your BOTM membership would be this monthly supply of the perfect boxes for winging those books on their way.
*The BOTM website has a forum for discussing each of the selections from every month. I have not used this feature, but if you want to discuss your book after reading it, that element is there. There's also a pretty active contingent of BOTM members on Litsy who share about their BOTM picks. If you're looking for an online social aspect to your reading, BOTM could help you find it.
*The books are titles people want to read. Obviously no selection of five books is ever going to please everyone every time, but the BOTM picks are never dregs or strange outliers. You may well come across a book you otherwise wouldn't, but I never feel like the selections are poor.
Cons of Membership:
It's not all rose hips and juniper berries at BOTM. I have almost cancelled my membership a handful of times--mostly for personal, idiosyncratic reasons--but here are my top bugaboos about BOTM:
*I don't love to read hardcovers. BOTM books are always hardcovers. *shrug* I mean, it is what it is, and most books come out in hardcover first. If you want a new release while it's still a new release, hardcover is usually what you got. But I prefer paperback so much and I have so many unread books in my house that I often find myself considering canceling BOTM just because the books aren't in the format I prefer. This one is really down to personal taste, but I'll give you this to chew on too: they're new release hardcovers but they aren't first editions. If you like hardcovers and any part of that has to do with collector-y interest in first editions and/or first printings, your BOTM membership isn't going to help you out there. A BOTM edition is its own separate thing in that sense.
*If you want to skip a month, you have to hit that "skip" button on the website by a certain date (usually the sixth of the month). If you don't do that, you get charged for the month but get no book. That charge gets you a credit you can use later. That's fair enough, I guess, although it used to be that simply not choosing a book skipped the month for you and you didn't get charged. That extra step seems to be designed to net BOTM some cash from forgetful members, especially if they keep forgetting and never use those credits.
*Every month you have the option of adding up to two extra books to your box at a discount ($9.99). This is a great deal dollar-wise. But there's a small catch. You can only add "extra" books if you choose one of the five books selected for the month. If you don't like any of the five for a given month, there is no way to choose an older book instead. You can only snag those older books as add-ons when you pick a selection of the month. I really wish you could just pick any available book (from the current selections and past selections) for your $14.99, but alas.
*Sometimes I go months on end without seeing a book in the monthly selections that I want. This is all about personal taste, of course, and I can just keep skipping months until something shows up I'm excited about, but it can be a bit of a letdown when all five picks make you go, "Bleh."
Who Should Join BOTM?
I think BOTM is an excellent subscription service for the right kind of reader. I'd recommend BOTM to anyone who would like to keep up with new releases without have to keep up with new releases. I'd also recommend it for anyone who likes to read (or maybe who used to and would like to get back into it) but isn't sure what to read or where to start. BOTM will drop five new releases into your email on the first of every month and boom! you have suggestions for your reading for the next few weeks. For anyone who is looking for a low-key, online book club vibe, BOTM might scratch that itch. It's pretty much guaranteed that a decent number of other people will be reading the same thing you are at the same time you are, and between the BOTM forums and BOTM members on other bookish websites, you should be able to find those people easily. Also, anyone who just loves book mail should enjoy BOTM. If you fit any of those descriptions, I think there's a strong chance you'll fine BOTM worth your time and dollars.
I don't recommend BOTM to readers who are trying to reduce their TBRs (BOTMs will pile up unread just like any other book purchases), anyone who strongly prefers reading in paperback or ebook, readers who are likely to forget to check the BOTM selection and hit that "skip" button if they don't want a book that month, and folks who prefer to read mostly in a genre not strongly represented at BOTM (such as romance, sci-fi, fantasy, specific nitty-gritty nonfiction topics, and cozy mysteries).
If any of you decide to try BOTM (or if you're already a member), let me know how it goes!
My BOTMs, showing the features of BOTM editions as discussed above. Lillian Boxfish Takes a Walk and The Stranger in the Woods are shown naked with their dust jackets attending. (Click photo to embiggen.)
Wednesday, April 18, 2018
Adventures in Misshelving
When I was a teenager, I often "fixed" misshelved books when I found them in the bookstore. Usually this amounted to reorganizing the Star Trek novels that had gotten jumbled up and out of numerical order, but sometimes it meant snatching up a book that was in the entirely wrong section of the store and reshelving it where I thought it should go. This practice was born of an obsessive tendency (which I still have, but which I am now better at managing--yay adult levels of self-awareness!) and a particularly youthful pride in noticing that books were where they weren't supposed to be and knowing enough about where they were supposed to be that I could put them back.
These days I know way more about books and publishing and where misshelved books probably ought to be than I did at thirteen, but while I value that knowledge, I don't think of it as something that makes me a special, special raindrop anymore. Perhaps that is why I almost never "fix" misshelved books anymore. I also know now that while I'm probably right about a book being where it ought not be, I might not be right in my assumption about where any particular bookstore thinks it should be. I've done enough volunteer work in the library to know that well-meaning patrons taking it upon themselves to reshelve books--and getting it wrong--account for many of the books that get lost. I suspect this is true in bookstores as well, especially when you take into consideration special displays and endcaps and the like. Or maybe my ability to leave wandering books alone grew from the delight I take in spotting the volumes that have escaped their homes and trying to figure out how they got to be so far afield.
Probably the most common reasons for a novel to end up resting lengthwise across the top of a row of business books is customers changing their minds about a purchase and not bothering to return the book to where they found it (or not remembering where that was--probably most people don't spend an hour or two in the bookstore every week, like I do). But I have another thought: if I find I need the restroom during a bookstore browse, I set any books I've already selected on top of a row of books that seems likely to remain undisturbed for a few minutes. (It baffles me why more bookstores don't put a small table or chair under their ubiquitous "No unpaid merchandise in the restrooms" signs.) I note the section where I've left them, come back to them after I'm through attending nature, and carry on with my browse. I have never yet come back to find my books not where I left them. If I come across such small stacks myself, I refrain from moving them as I see them as a discrete "I'm just in the loo; I"ll be right back" signal. Perhaps I'm the only one who does this, but I kind of doubt it.
Of course, I still have the odd moment of weakness. The other day I was browsing the Agatha Christie books and noticed that every one was on a single shelf--save one title. As there was room on the first shelf (naturally, since I had removed a few to take home with me), I shifted that title up to join its peers. Can't have the poor thing sitting all alone, now can we? And if I notice one book by a certain author misshelved a few books away from the rest of the books by that author, I arrange them so they are all together. Surely that's just good manners. I once came across an illustrated guide to sex positions in the children's section. That I trotted right back to where it belonged. I don't know if someone was trying to make trouble or simply set it down by mistake, but I like to think I saved somone's mom or dad that day from a conversation they weren't ready to have.
My absolute favorite misshelved book, however, I came across in one of our local Barnes and Nobles: in the sci-fi and fantasy section, a copy of the Bible. I can only assume this was someone's idea of a snicker, and well played you, haha. I almost moved it but then decided, no. It was a curiosity. Let it lie, let the integrity of this store’s particular misshelves stand. I first noticed it seven months ago. It's still there.
Wednesday, March 28, 2018
What to Do with Problem Books?
In the past few months, several scandals have hit the book/publishing world involving revelations about the behavior of several authors. Other writers and commentators have investigated the myriad reactions of readers to these events and the various implications they have for publishing, and I do not feel like I have anything particularly useful to add to those excellent conversations. Here I would like to talk about a very specific piece of the fallout for readers when an author suddenly feels unworthy of one's attention, but if you would like to dive into the issues themselves, here are some links:
*Sherman Alexie accused of harrassment
*Book Riot Podcast discussion of harassment allegations in children's publishing (start at minute 11:30)
*Santino Hassell accused of catfishing (NSFW: language; TW: emotional abuse)
*Riptide's Statement about Hassell
*When in Romance podcast discussion of Hassell (minute 4:45-17:05)
*The Hopeless Romantic podcast discussion of Hassell and Riptide Publishing (NSFW: language; TW: sexual and emotional abuse)
Right. Now. What do I want to talk about? It's a minor consideration in the face of an ocean of feels including disgust and disappointment toward an author, empathy for victims, distrust of aspects of the publishing industry, and personal questions for readers about how to feel about beloved texts that now seem tainted. But it's a problem I've been considering now for a couple of weeks: What will I do with books I no longer wish to own because I no longer want to have anything to do with the author?
This particular spate of revelations has not involved any authors whose work is deeply meaningful to me personally, so I have not yet had to grapple with changing feelings about a book that means a lot to me. And I think this is a very real, very important issue. Books matter. They matter because they show us ourselves when we thought we were the only one. They matter because they show us people and worlds we otherwise might never begin to understand. They matter because they help us through difficult times. So if a book that mattered, a book that got me through something, or helped me realize something about myself, turned out to have been written by someone engaging in behavior I find reprehensible, that would make me feel some kind of way. Given the apparent prevalence of such behavior in our societies and how much I read, I suspect someday I will be writing a blog post about what that feeling turns out to be. But for today, I am wondering only about the practical. I now have some books in my possession that didn't matter much to me (in many cases which I hadn't yet had a chance to read) and which I would no longer like to own.
My recent experiences with trying to keep my bookshelves from taking over the entire house mean that I have some go-to options for ridding myself of unwanted books. There's a nice used book store in town that will buy select used books in good condition; there's another one that will take select used books for store exchange. Our library is always in need of donations. So is the Goodwill. I have friends and family and fellow book club members I sometimes pass books on to if I have no more need for them. Supposedly there are some Little Free Libraries in town where I could drop books off for others in my community to find. All of these are great destinations for books that have served their purpose, for books I'm happy to let go out into the world and be the right book for someone else even if they are no longer the right book for me. But these seem like wrong choices for books I don't want anymore because it turns out their authors have engaged in garbage behavior I can't look past. I don't donate expired food to the food bank; I don't want to donate books that feel nasty to the library.
Practically speaking, I guess, a book is just paper and glue. I could throw them away. Better yet, I could recycle them. (Some books even have a note on the copyright page indicating that they are suitable for recycling. This note always draws me up short. No one drops their book in the recycling bin after they turn the last page, surely? There are so many better ways to "recycle" most books.) Neither of these options feels exactly appropriate either. I try not to over-romanticize books and I try not to anthropomorphize them and I try not to conflate a physical book with the flesh-and-blood human who wrote it. Dropping a novel in the trash is not tossing a human out with the garbage, but darn if I still don't feel comfy thinking about doing it.
I haven't been able to come up with a great solution to this small problem that feels right to me. (I'm sure there are other people who would (who have) literally trashed books for these sorts of reasons, and hey, you do you. Probably there are also other people who have donated such books to the library or what have you. It isn't, after all, the donator's responsibility to look out for the donatee's sensibilities when it comes to reading material. I'm not here to judge, but *I* can't do it.) So for now, the books in question are tucked away behind other books on my shelves, their spines turned in. They get to carry on existing, but I don't have to look at them. In this case, it's an example of out of sight, very much still on my mind.
*Sherman Alexie accused of harrassment
*Book Riot Podcast discussion of harassment allegations in children's publishing (start at minute 11:30)
*Santino Hassell accused of catfishing (NSFW: language; TW: emotional abuse)
*Riptide's Statement about Hassell
*When in Romance podcast discussion of Hassell (minute 4:45-17:05)
*The Hopeless Romantic podcast discussion of Hassell and Riptide Publishing (NSFW: language; TW: sexual and emotional abuse)
Right. Now. What do I want to talk about? It's a minor consideration in the face of an ocean of feels including disgust and disappointment toward an author, empathy for victims, distrust of aspects of the publishing industry, and personal questions for readers about how to feel about beloved texts that now seem tainted. But it's a problem I've been considering now for a couple of weeks: What will I do with books I no longer wish to own because I no longer want to have anything to do with the author?
This particular spate of revelations has not involved any authors whose work is deeply meaningful to me personally, so I have not yet had to grapple with changing feelings about a book that means a lot to me. And I think this is a very real, very important issue. Books matter. They matter because they show us ourselves when we thought we were the only one. They matter because they show us people and worlds we otherwise might never begin to understand. They matter because they help us through difficult times. So if a book that mattered, a book that got me through something, or helped me realize something about myself, turned out to have been written by someone engaging in behavior I find reprehensible, that would make me feel some kind of way. Given the apparent prevalence of such behavior in our societies and how much I read, I suspect someday I will be writing a blog post about what that feeling turns out to be. But for today, I am wondering only about the practical. I now have some books in my possession that didn't matter much to me (in many cases which I hadn't yet had a chance to read) and which I would no longer like to own.
My recent experiences with trying to keep my bookshelves from taking over the entire house mean that I have some go-to options for ridding myself of unwanted books. There's a nice used book store in town that will buy select used books in good condition; there's another one that will take select used books for store exchange. Our library is always in need of donations. So is the Goodwill. I have friends and family and fellow book club members I sometimes pass books on to if I have no more need for them. Supposedly there are some Little Free Libraries in town where I could drop books off for others in my community to find. All of these are great destinations for books that have served their purpose, for books I'm happy to let go out into the world and be the right book for someone else even if they are no longer the right book for me. But these seem like wrong choices for books I don't want anymore because it turns out their authors have engaged in garbage behavior I can't look past. I don't donate expired food to the food bank; I don't want to donate books that feel nasty to the library.
Practically speaking, I guess, a book is just paper and glue. I could throw them away. Better yet, I could recycle them. (Some books even have a note on the copyright page indicating that they are suitable for recycling. This note always draws me up short. No one drops their book in the recycling bin after they turn the last page, surely? There are so many better ways to "recycle" most books.) Neither of these options feels exactly appropriate either. I try not to over-romanticize books and I try not to anthropomorphize them and I try not to conflate a physical book with the flesh-and-blood human who wrote it. Dropping a novel in the trash is not tossing a human out with the garbage, but darn if I still don't feel comfy thinking about doing it.
I haven't been able to come up with a great solution to this small problem that feels right to me. (I'm sure there are other people who would (who have) literally trashed books for these sorts of reasons, and hey, you do you. Probably there are also other people who have donated such books to the library or what have you. It isn't, after all, the donator's responsibility to look out for the donatee's sensibilities when it comes to reading material. I'm not here to judge, but *I* can't do it.) So for now, the books in question are tucked away behind other books on my shelves, their spines turned in. They get to carry on existing, but I don't have to look at them. In this case, it's an example of out of sight, very much still on my mind.
Wednesday, March 14, 2018
Loving Picture Books as a Grown Human
Until recently, I have paid no attention whatever to children's picture books--and the last time I had looked at one with any interest was certainly sometime in my own childhood. But with the birth of my cousin's two little girls--the only children born to my generation in my family with whom I have any real contact--I started picking up picture books again, at first simply to find gifts for my baby cousins, but as time went on and they got older and graduated from board books to glossy picture books, for my own reading as well.
In the beginning, I didn't pay all that much attention (I'll tell you what--despite my new appreciation for picture books, the baby board book is, I think, still interesting pretty much only to its primary audience), but a couple of years ago I was staying with my parents for a few weeks and found my mom's shelf of picture books she keeps around for when those cousin babies (to her, grand-niece babies, of course) come around. And I sat down with a stack of them and wiled away an hour or so. And what a delightful hour it was. Some of the books thrilled me because of their illustrations, some for the whole package, the way story and pictures worked together. And I felt I was definitely filling a hole, if a small one, in my reading life with those picture books. And not one born of nostalgia, not really--none of the books I read that afternoon were leftovers from my own childhood (though a few of those *are* kicking around). No, it was just the joy of picking up a story, and reading it in one go, and pausing after every few sentences to take in an illustration of what the sentences were saying. It was fun, and relaxing, and plain nice.
So I read picture books now. Since I have no children of my own and live too far away from my little cousins to share books with them regularly, I read whatever strikes my fancy (and I never have to read the same book over and over and over, which I gather is a hazard which comes with sharing the delight of books with young children). Mostly I take the books out of the library, sit down with a stack, and read them one after the other--just as I did that first time with the books from Mom's shelf. I love getting to read three or four or five stories right in a row and love the knowledge that if the first one doesn't wow me, I have another one on deck. I'm supporting my library in ways I wasn't before. I'm reading stories I never would have otherwise. I'm choosing books from a variety of lists of "bests," including bests from many communities and cultures I might otherwise not read much from. I feel like I'm winning all around.
The last time I picked up a stack of picture books at the library, several members of my book club were with me. To a one, they expressed confusion at my choice to read children's books without any children. I tried to explain, but just got weird looks. Ah, what they are missing.
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