Thursday, November 19, 2009

Thanks! (Or: Why You Should Read Other People's Blogs, Too)


I made the list! Thanks, Moonrat! I feel like Steve Martin in The Jerk, when he gets the new phone book.

I couldn't find a clip for that scene, though. I found this one:



Which includes Steve saying "I feel great" and captures my happiness. So everyone, Go Read Moonrat's Blog!

And, you people who do read Moonrat's blog and now read this, or are thinking about ordering Eclipse, remember that the t-shirt offer is still open...

Monday, November 16, 2009

Do! (Or: Why Don't People Support Other People's Creative Efforts?)

UPDATE: See the list below for a link to Elizabeth, the first commenter on this post.


A little while back, I sent an email to more or less every friend I've ever had, announcing to them that I had independently published a book. I gave them the link to it, the information about it, and reminded them gently that once, I'd been their friend, and also reminded them that they like reading.

None of them bought my book. I know that because I can track the sales of Eclipse and I didn't sell any books in the aftermath of that mass-marketing/taking advantage of friendships.

Just a few weeks ago, I got an email from my father-in-law, who lives in Oakland. He'd visited here in the summer and during that time I'd mentioned that I'd independently published a book. He's a big reader, and also has friends who are readers, and they all have quite a bit of money. My father-in-law hadn't followed up on that conversation in the summer, but he did follow up not long ago via email. So I replied to his email and sent him the link to the book, and a description, and a link to the ad for the book, too.

And... nothing.

Nothing: No sales of the book since that email, which was about two weeks ago.

I bring those up to emphasize my point today, which is this:

If you know someone who has done something, SUPPORT THEM.


Buy their book. Download their song. Go see their poetry slam. Read their blog.

And then, let them know about it.

Most writers, most singers, most actors, most creative types, won't ever hit the big time. I don't say that to be mean; I say that because it's the truth. In fact, most people won't ever hit the "big time," and that's true no matter what you do and no matter how you define "big time." That's because there's just not enough "big time" to go around. The Big Time -- money, fame, fortune, on a Stephanie Meyer/John Grisham level (for writers) or Jay-Z/Beyonce level for singers, or however you want to eponym it, is a limited quantity.

I'll stick to writing. Think of the number of really big, really popular, really rich writers you can name. How many is it? 3? 5? I bet it's not 10. I even have some facts to back me up. According to this blog, which cited a survey, only about 5% of writers have writing as their full-time job. And those 5% averaged $29,000 per year in income.

The vast majority of writers, according to that survey, write as a hobby or to supplement their income -- earning on average between $300-something and almost-$5,000.

That means two things: First, it means that as a writer, the odds are I -- and you, if you write -- will never be super-rich. Not that it can't happen, but that it's unlikely to happen and will require a lot of hard work and luck. (Or a NancyKerriganing.)

Second, and more importantly, it means that writers -- I, and you, if you write -- are doing this because we love doing it. I mean, yeah, sure, I want to make money doing this and eventually I will, and eventually I'll be blogging this from Hawaii (I'll probably have to change the title of this blog at that point) but until then, I do it because I like to write.

And people who like to write like to know that others read what they write. Any creative type wants to know that others are taking in what they're doing. Painters want you to see their paintings. Singers want you to listen to them. Mimes want you to really believe they're trapped in that box.

That, too, is not limited solely to creative types. Everyone wants to believe that what they're doing has value, and that people appreciate it (or at least acknowledge that they do it.) I expect accountants want people to listen to their Tales of Accountancy from time to time.

But creative types are doing that because they want others to note and remark on what they're doing, to be moved by it, and, yes, to pay for it if they are trying to charge for it. That's the essence of doing something creative. If you write, but don't want people to see it, you're keeping a journal. If you're not writing a journal, you want people to see your writing.

That's what brings me back to my friends and family. I'm very let down by them, and by readers in general today. Maybe it's because it's Monday, maybe it's because I'm behind on my "real" "work" (and getting further behind, because I'm blogging instead of doing it), but maybe it's because I'm just frustrated and don't get it.

As a person, I expect that those closest to me will be the most supportive of what I do -- that they will encourage me and help me out, the way I encourage them and help them out. That includes friends, family, co-workers, and people I run into in my life. Anyone I know, basically, I try to help out and support in their endeavors, and I expect that in return.

That's not too much of an expectation, is it? That your friends and family and coworkers will support you? It's not -- especially when you consider how minimally supportive I expect people to be, which is this level:

$1.25 and some typing.

That's not a whole lot to ask. That's the cost of downloading Eclipse; you can go to Lulu.com and download the book I wrote and published for a buck and a quarter.

To put that in perspective for the people I know, a ride on a Madison bus costs $2.00. A beer costs more than $1.25. So does almost everything at every restaurant people I know eat at. So does renting a movie. So does almost everything those people will do throughout the day.

$1.25 will let people download a copy of my book; they can get more expensive versions, up to $11.50 plus shipping, but they don't have to. They could spend a buck twenty-five.

(I get almost no profit from that. I opted to try to sell lots of books and make money in volume.)

That low price means that all my friends, all my family, (almost) everyone that I know who found out that I, a person they know, wrote a book, either couldn't be bothered to click the link and find out more about it, or couldn't be bothered to spend a buck twenty-five to support me.

(I say almost because one friend -- Lisa Pepin, who writes the excellent blog Lost in Provence, did buy a copy. She found out I'd written a book (3, actually), and she immediately ordered all three of them. So Kudos to Lisa Pepin, and you should go read her blog [and then comment on it, as I'll get to in a minute.])

Even my family.

Which makes me wonder. If I was an actor, and had gotten a role in a play -- even a small, independent play produced locally through some small theater -- would those people have come to see it? If they can't click a link and pay $1.25, would they get in their car and drive to see me in a play? What if I was a singer with a gig at a bar downtown? Would they pay a $2 cover charge and brave the rainy November night?

And if they wouldn't, are they really good friends?

I had a friend once who wrote most of a novel. He asked me if I'd mind reading it for him and letting him know what I thought. I agreed, immediately, and he sent it to me. I read it -- twice -- and thought about it and jotted down notes and sent him a detailed explanation and critique, telling him what I thought and encouraging him. (It was actually a very well-written book, even in rough form.) I spent a lot of time doing that, but it was the least I could do; he was a good friend.

I've got another friend, Ross Bigley, who writes and directs films and posts short films online. Every film he sends me a link to, I watch, even if it's not "my style" of film or the kind of thing I would ordinarily like. When Ross asked me if I'd like to help him write a script, I immediately agreed to do that.

Writer Randall Radic asked if he could post a blog entry on my blog The Best of Everything, and I readily agreed. Singer Alli Millstein noticed that I mentioned her as one of the best Quirky Chick Singers, got in touch with me, and I agreed to help her promote her album and her shows by featuring her songs. (I would have also gone and immediately downloaded her album, Human Nature, but I'd already bought it.)

I even, when I found out that a secretary in my office handmakes greeting cards, ordered Middle's graduation announcements from her. (They were really nice greeting cards, too.)

I don't do those things because I'm some kind of saint; I do them because that's what's expected of friends and family, and because it's easy enough to do. How hard is it to watch a 3-minute film Ross posted? How hard is it to post a guest entry from Randall Radic? Not hard at all. It helped them out, and it generated me some goodwill, but mostly I did it because I'm a nice guy who likes my friends and family and that's what's expected of nice guys who like their friends and family and who have friends and family (and Internet acquaintances) who do creative things.

Some people seem to believe the way I do. The rock band Murder Mystery, the Greatest Rock Band In The History Of Ever, readily agreed to autograph a copy of Eclipse to help me auction it off for charity. (So did Dave Eggers, but he hasn't returned either the book or my emails yet, so... um...)

But others don't. None of my friends or family bought the book I wrote, even though it would cost them only $1.25.

And, to make things worse, nobody comments. That's part two of this Monday morning diatribe, which isn't much of a diatribe, but is really more of a lament. So part two of this Monday morning lament is this:

If you won't actually spend money to support people you know and like, why won't you at least comment?

That
doesn't cost but nothing. It doesn't even take hardly any time. And yet, nobody does it.

Last month, nearly 4,000 people read my blog Thinking The Lions. Total comments I got? Zero. Ten thousand people read The Best Of Everything. Total comments? Two. And I think they were commercially-motivated, but, still, they were comments.

From all the writing I did online and all the effort I put into it, I got five comments in October -- four from what appear to be businesses (but they left relevant comments anyway) and one from the inestimable Petri Dish, whose blog I read as often as I can and who is a very funny, insightful blogger and commenter.

Out of nearly 10,000 hits, five comments. And I know that people I know read my blogs -- they tell me from time to time that they do.

So why don't they comment? I'm not talking about writing a paragraph or two, or having to say something funny or clever or insightful -- although it's great if you can do that. I'm just talking about posting a comment like: Liked this. Or well done. Or even I didn't like this. I'll take that -- and I'll take it with good humor (as soon as I privately fume.)

Petri Dish did that, and I was fine with it and went on reading Love Fears A Lover. Petri Dish commented on the ending to Up So Down (formerly serialized at 5 Pages, and now available on Scribd.)(That's an entire book, available for free.) Petri Dish didn't like the ending, and told me so. I was not only fine with that, I loved it. I thought it was great that someone had been affected by the ending so much that it required expressing thoughts in writing.

I'm just befuddled by it, I guess. I comment on everything I read, online. I don't write fan mail or letters to the editor, but if I read your blog, you'll know it because I always leave a comment. Period. I watch every video sent to me. And if a friend or family member does something, I support them by immediately buying it.

So why doesn't everyone? And especially you writers and singers and bloggers and painters and mimes out there: Why aren't you supporting your fellow creative types by reading their blogs and viewing their paintings and putting dollars in their hats next to that invisible box?

You know more than anyone else how hard it is to drum up support, how hard it is to break into the field, how hard it is to get a gallery show, get cast in a play, get your script looked at, get someone to react and pay you a little money. So why aren't you helping them, in at least the most minimal way you can? Why aren't you buying their books or downloading their songs or, at the very least, commenting on their blogs or sites? Posting something on their Facebook page, maybe: Hey, liked the show. Putting a link to their site on your own?

Do. Something.

People may be in this for the money -- I'd like to make a billion dollars at writing -- but they're doing this for the money because they love to do this, whatever this is. And you are a ready-made audience/focus group/customer. It doesn't matter if you "don't like" the stuff they're writing about. I read The Boy's blog (and comment on it) even though I don't share his love of Star Trek and don't dislike Shia LeBeouf as much as he does. I read my friend's novel even though it wasn't the kind of thing I like to read. I'd go see a crummy play, if a friend was in it. I went to watch my brother run the Chicago Marathon even though it meant getting up early, driving in the dark to Chicago, walking around all day, and then getting lost on the way home. I still went, and I cheered him on, and went and ate pizza with him afterwards, because that's what you do for people.

So that's my lament/diatribe/gripe for the day, and also my challenge for the day, to you, who reads this. If you read this post, then

First of all, comment on it. Even if you just call me a whiny jerk. Comment.

And

Second of all, go find a blog you like, read that, and comment on that. Then, think about your friends and family and acquaintances. Has one of them done something that you can support by, say, buying it? Do they make t-shirts? Do they have a script they'd like you to read? Did they post a video online? I'll bet you know someone like that -- I'll bet you know many people like that. Think of one of them, and then go support that person. Buy his or her book. Get his or her album and give it as a Christmas present. Mention the gallery showing he or she has at your office coffee stop. And, because I don't want to let that joke go, let him or her out of that invisible box.

_____________________________________________________________

If you'd like to support ME by downloading one of my books for as little as $1.25, click here to visit my Lulu.com store.

If, on the other hand, you'd like to support ME by downloading something I've written for FREE, then click here to find all the stuff I've got free on Scribd. But if you do that, then at least drop me a line and tell me you liked it. Or you hated it. Or I'm a whiny jerk. But drop me a line! (You can comment right on Scribd, you know.)

And if you'd like to support the people who've supported me and get my Seal of Approval, then:

Visit Love Fears A Lover by Petri Dish for videos of Sesame Street, cool J-Rock, and hilarious commentary.

Find out what it's like to be an American expat living in France on Lisa Pepin's blog, Lost In Provence, and read her husband Johann's memoir of his grandfather's time in the French Resistance in WWII at Memoir Of the French Resistance.

Learn what life is like for young adults in Australia at Sez's Life; Sez was the first person ever to comment on one of my blogs.

DivineBee is blogging about her experiences in treating her cancer; follow her wonderfully-written blog at Accidental Mother.

Moonrat gets tons of comments and is a bigshot in publishing -- but she still mentioned it on her blog, Editorial Ass when I got some short stories published.

I linked to Alli Millstein's CD page on Amazon above; here's her Facebook.

And Randall Radic's Facebook.

And, although he doesn't need my help, I help those who help me, so here's Dave Eggers' McSweeney's home page. Now, how about getting that autographed copy of Eclipse back to me, Dave?

AND, UPDATE: Elizabeth makes very colorful, very creative jewelry that would make a great gift for you, or a loved one, or all your loved ones. Visit her blog by clicking here, or visit her Etsy store by clicking here. That's one of her pieces, to the left there. It's called "Packer Backer Green And Yellow Cheesehead Necklace." It's a great way to be stylish and still root for the Packers!

Friday, November 6, 2009

Grocery Shopping In An Alternate Universe: A Parable

This post appeared first on Thinking The Lions. I know it doesn't quite fit here, but it's important enough that I'm putting it on all my blogs today.


I was one of the lucky ones, I suppose.

I was able to get hired by an employer who offered a great grocery plan. And not only that, but the plan covered my family, which meant that only a few months after getting hired, we'd be able to get to the grocery store almost any time we wanted and buy food.

I liked the plan. Even though I had to pay 15% of my income each month towards groceries (whether or not I bought any), my employer was paying 85% of the cost (whether or not I bought groceries), so I could accept that part of my pay was being taken towards necessities I might never use. It even kind of made sense to me that my employer covered 85% of the cost of the Grocery Plan for the higher-ups who made 2 or 3 or 4 times what I made. Sure, they could afford to pay more for their groceries -- and if they did so, it would reduce my own costs-- and, yeah, 15% of my just-about-minimum wage earnings really kind of hurt a lot more than if I was paying, say, 15% of $200,000 like the guys at the top, but it seemed fair, to me, that we all paid the same exact percentage. Besides, whenever it came up in my mind, I just reminded myself to look only at the percentages, not the actual dollars.

In just three short months, I was covered under the Grocery Plan and it was about time, too, as the kids and my wife were really hungry. We'd put off going to the grocery store until we were covered, but not by choice: Without a Grocery Plan, we couldn't find a grocery store that would let us in unless we paid in advance for everything we wanted.

"But I don't know what I want, yet," I told one lady on the phone. "I don't even know what you offer or what it costs. How can I pay for it in advance?"

She was apologetic and said that's just the way it works.

So anyway, when my Grocery Plan went into effect, I called up and got pre-approval to go to one of the three grocery stores that were kind of near us. The one I really wanted to go to, just down the street, wasn't in the plan, but I could deal with that. I don't mind driving a little, especially because it's important to control the costs of groceries by using only pre-approved stores.

My wife asked "What if we just need a gallon of milk in a hurry? Can't we just run to the Store nearby?" So I asked the insurance lady that, and she said that we could, in an emergency, but that they might not pay for the groceries if we did that and we should try to call them first. Anyway, my wife's just a worrywart. We can plan ahead and never need to run out and get milk at the last minute.

Once I had the pre-approval, I drove to the grocery store, but they told me I needed an appointment to shop. When I asked how long it would be until I could get an appointment, they said they could get me in during the afternoon on Tuesday, three weeks from now.

I wasn't starving, yet, but the kids were pretty hungry. The littlest one, Mr Bunches, hadn't eaten since I lost my last job and I was worried that maybe it was starting to affect him.

"Isn't there any way I could get some groceries today?" I asked the lady at the desk. She said that there was an Urgent Groceries across town, if I felt it was that important.

I pictured Mr Bunches and the way he'd stared longingly at the refrigerator, and decided this was pretty urgent. Not a Grocery Emergency or anything, but pretty Urgent. And besides, even if it wasn't terribly urgent, what other choice did I have? I might have been able to wait a day or two, but three weeks?

So I drove to the Urgent Groceries and went inside. The lady at the front desk asked to see my card and asked what I was there for.

"I need some groceries, today," I said. "I've got some little kids, and a wife, at home, and they haven't eaten in a long time." She looked skeptical, like I didn't belong there, and I wanted to say "Hey, it's your fault that I couldn't get into the regular grocery store," but I didn't, because I didn't want to get them mad at me.

She handed me some forms and said that there was a $100 copay, which really surprised me. "I already pay a premium, through my work," I said. "It's 15% of my income, the same as everyone else's in the business, even the higher-ups -- they make, like 3 times what I do but we all pay the same share, so that's fair, right?"

She said that the co-pay is in addition to the premium, and said I should look at my Grocery Card. I'd never looked at it before -- that whole stack of Grocery Policy Papers and things they'd given me was pretty confusing, and I hadn't read it anyway because it was the only policy my boss offered, so it didn't matter whether I liked it or not, I had to take it or leave it. I didn't really like that I'd pay more every time I went to the Store, but I figured if it became a problem I'd limit my trips, go only when I absolutely had to.

The card said that the copay was $50, and I showed it to her. "That's for regular shopping, not Urgent Groceries," she said. "Urgent Groceries are double."

"I have to pay more if it's more urgent?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, and she didn't sound sympathetic.

"But it's not even my fault I'm here. I tried to go to the regular Grocery Store and they didn't let me in."

"Sorry," she said, but she didn't sound sorry. I had to write out a check for this "copay" and hope that they wouldn't cash it before I got paid on Friday, but what could I do? I needed groceries, and I didn't want to go home and see Sweetie and Mr F and The Boy staring at me.

Then she gave me some forms and said to check in with the receptionist, which was weird because I thought that's what I'd done. But I began filling out the forms and telling them my grocery history, as best as I could. I'd never had Groceries before, so I wasn't really sure how to answer some of the questions.

I sat in the waiting room for about 50 minutes, but I didn't mind because I knew I probably shouldn't have been there. I mean, when I looked at the other Urgent Grocery shoppers waiting their turn, they all looked worse than me. One guy kept smacking his lips and saying "Hamburgers!" over and over, and his eyes looked glazed. There was a little girl there who looked really thin and pale, like she'd never eaten. I thought she should have gone to the Emergency Groceries, or maybe even a Fast Food Place. I didn't mind that she got to go shopping ahead of me.

There were a couple other people like me, though, who didn't seem to really be that needy. I bet they'd done what I did: Just realized that they kind of needed to get some Groceries, and couldn't wait 3 weeks.

While I was sitting there, I couldn't help but wonder why it was that the Regular Grocery Stores weren't open past 5 p.m., or before 9 a.m., or even on the weekends. It might make it easier if they were open longer, or had different shifts. I mean, for regular grocery shopping, I'd have to take time off of work just to go get some potato chips, and if I couldn't do that, I'd always be at the Urgent Grocery Store, since that was the only one open past 5 or on weekends.

Oh, well, I figured. They know what they're doing. It's not up to me to second guess how the grocery business is run.

When they finally called my name, I stopped reading the old Shoppers' Guide they had in the waiting room and got up with my list in hand. I was actually kind of excited: I'd waited so long for this and now I was finally going to get some Groceries!

I took the list Sweetie had made and moved into the store. The first thing I needed was the Bakery, to get some Bread. I didn't see a sign for that, and I asked the clerk up front.

"We don't have a Bakery," she said. "This is an Urgent Grocery, so you can't get everything you need here. If you really need something that's not here, we can refer you. The Emergency Grocery has everything, downtown."

I decided that I didn't need Bread so much, and moved into the Cereal aisle. The selection was pretty slim there, too -- just the bare necessities, but that's what you get, I figured, when you have to go to the Grocery Store after hours. I walked around that aisle for a while trying to figure out which one to get, but I'd never had any cereal before and couldn't tell whether any of them was better than the other, or which one I might need, let alone which one a 3-year-old or my wife might need.

There was a Cereal Assistant, though, and I asked her whether she would recommend one or the other Cereals in the aisle. "I can't really recommend anything," she said. "I'm here to take information from you and pass it on to the Cereal Specialist. Then he and I will talk it over and he'll tell you what you need."

So I answered her questions ("I like sweetened cereal for the boys," I said, and "Maybe something with raisins.") She put it all into her computer, and nodded, and then said she'd be back in a while or the Cereal Specialist would come in in a bit.

After about 10 minutes, the Cereal Specialist came in. He asked me the same questions the Cereal Assistant had, looked at my stomach and my cart (which was still empty) and said "You need corn flakes."

"How much are they?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said, "But I'm sure your insurance will cover it. You should talk to them about it." He handed me a box of corn flakes and then patted my shoulder and said to make a follow-up appointment about a week before the box was empty.

I put the cornflakes in the cart and walked past all the other cereals, wondering why I had corn flakes instead of one of those other ones. It kind of bugged me, to tell you the truth. I'm not the smartest guy about these things, I know, but I saw a Dateline report a couple months ago where they were talking about how corn flakes don't really do that much to curb hunger, and they're not all that nutritious or tasty. I didn't watch the whole thing ('cause... boring), but I got enough to know that maybe I'd never try corn flakes.

Still, he was the Cereal Specialist, and nobody's ever really sure about these things, right?

I did know I needed milk for the corn flakes, and I headed over to the Dairy Aisle. All the milk was behind a counter, where a lady stood in a white coat. I wondered if she was a doctor, and asked her.

"No, I'm the Milk-A-Cist," she said.

"Oh," I said. "I need some milk for these corn flakes. We're going to eat tonight!"

"Did you call your prescription in ahead of time?" she asked.

"Prescription?" I asked.

"I can't sell you most milks without a prescription from the Specialist," she said. "If you've called it in, it'll probably be ready. Otherwise, you might have to wait."

"I've been here a pretty long time already," I said, "And I didn't ask about a prescription in the Cereal Aisle. Isn't there anything you can sell me?"

"We've got some over-the-counter stuff that might work, almost as good," the Milk-A-Cist said.

"Let me have some of that," I said, and she pulled out a bottle of water.

Water with cereal? I wasn't sure about that, but, I'm not Grocery Expert. I didn't go to Grocery School for 8 years or anything, so how should I know what's best? Besides, what else could I do?

"Will that work with cereal?" I asked her.

"I'm not supposed to give advice like that," she said, "But the label says it should be okay. Do you have any allergies to water?"

But I didn't know. I'd never been to the Groceries before. Then I had another thought: "Is that okay for 3-year-olds?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No, you'll need Childrens' Water for them." So she got some of that, too, and then rang it up. I showed her my insurance card, but she shook her head.

"No," she said. "Prescription Milk would be covered, mostly, but for over-the-counter things, you've got to pay cash."

That didn't make any sense to me at all, but, again, who am I to say what makes sense in these things and what doesn't? All these complexities are probably just lost on me. They must be, since the other day a guy on the radio said that we have the Greatest Grocery System In The World. So the weird stuff must work, and I'm not questioning it.

I paid for the waters and then was going to head out, but I looked down and thought Cereal and water doesn't seem like much of a meal, so I decided to try and get something a little more hearty. I headed back to the Meat Department to look for some chicken or something.

But at the Meat Department, there was another clerk. She said "Do you have an appointment?"

"No," I said, "But I didn't think I needed one. This is the Urgent Groceries, right?"

She shook her head. "The Meat Department is a specialist. We can't see you unless you have a referral."

"What's that?" I asked. She sighed and said:

"You have to go back to your regular Grocery Person and get them to refer you to us. Then you call us and make an appointment, and we'll help you with your Meat needs."

"I don't have a regular Grocery Person," I said. "I've only just gotten on a Grocery Plan."

"You should call your plan administrator and ask them to assign you a regular Grocery Person," she said. She seemed pretty nice and added "I'd like to help you, but that's all I can do."

I was really kind of upset. I didn't take it out on her, or the Meat Department, though. It was probably a law, I figured -- probably some stupid government law that was keeping them from helping me right now. Those God damn regulations! It's always like that: every time the government does anything they screw it up. I said that to her:

"Stupid Congress, right?" I nodded. She shook her head, though, and said:

"No, sir, it's just the Policy requirements."

I didn't know what that meant, though. So I thanked her and then said:

"Do you know who my Plan Administrator is?"

She said it was probably in my Policy, whatever that is. There was a 1-800 number on the back of my card, though, so I used my cell phone to call it while I walked back towards the front of the store. I couldn't get a hold of anyone, though. They said to call back during "normal business hours." That made sense: I worked during the day, so they must, too. I'd try to call the next day, I figured, on my lunch break.

Luckily for me, I didn't have to check out at all -- my Grocery Plan was going to pay for EVERYTHING. Except the water, of course. I showed my cereal to the cashier as I went out and she motioned to me.

"We need your address," she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"To send your statement of benefits," she said.

Whatever that is. I gave it to her. She also made me make a follow-up appointment. "Will I get more groceries that day?" I asked. She shook her head and said "It's just to see how these groceries went." I wondered if I'd have to pay a co-pay for that, too, but I figured I could just cancel it. She said I couldn't just call in and talk to them, either, and I'm not going to miss a day of work if the Groceries are fine.

I headed on home, where we feasted on corn flakes and cereal. The Boy complained about the dinner, saying that his friend's dad, when he got hungry, had gotten to go to a fancy restaurant and have a three-course meal.

"Well, what Grocery Plan does he have?" I asked. The Boy didn't know what a Grocery Plan was, so I explained to him that everyone has to have a Grocery Plan, that there's companies out there that will "cover" your Groceries, so that when you get hungry, you go to the Store and they tell you what groceries to get, and then they pay for him.

"Why do they do that?" The Boy asked.

"Because it makes sense," I said. "Nobody knows in advance how much their groceries are going to be, and when they'll need them..." but he interrupted.

"But you know you will need them, right?"

"Maybe," I said. "Not everyone needs groceries."

He shook his head. I could see he didn't get it, and he said "Everyone will need groceries some time or other." I didn't know how else to explain it to him, so I said

"Well, if they need groceries, they get on a Grocery Plan through work and then they'll get them."

"Can't they just buy a Grocery Plan?" The Boy asked. Sweetie and I laughed at that.

"Sure," I said. " I suppose they could just call a Grocery Plan Company and sign up but that'd cost them a bundle. It's better to get a job and have their boss give it to them."

The Boy still looked a little confused and said "But doesn't everyone need to eat? Shouldn't everyone be entitled to at least get some groceries, somehow?"

You've got to expect that from kids: They think that everything's a right, that things like groceries are just guaranteed to be given to you and that somehow, society can guarantee that. I tried to set him straight:

"Everyone can get groceries, if they want, Boy," I said. "But you can't just go around handing them out. We're not Russia, you know. That kind of thing doesn't work. Besides, imagine if the government were to take over the grocery industry!" Sweetie laughed at that, too.

"The government does pretty good with some things," The Boy said. He's probably got teachers that fill his head with that crap.

"Like what?" I challenged him.

"They deliver the mail all over the country, pretty quick, and it's cheap, too. You can mail a letter for less than fifty cents and it'll go from Maine to Alaska in a day or two."

I didn't even know where to begin with that one. "The Post Office?" I said. "That's your idea of government efficiency? Have you ever seen the lines at the Post Office? You wait forever just to get stamps, and the government has to pay the Post Office just to keep it in business." He was being ridiculous. I mean, yeah, I had to wait to get into the Urgent Groceries, but that was different because it wasn't the regular grocery store, which I could have gone right into if I'd had an appointment, plus, once I was in the Urgent Groceries, I'd hardly waited at all.

"Why do they do that?" The Boy asked. "Why do they pay to keep the Post Office running?"

I'd never thought of that, but I gave him an answer: "I guess," I said, "It's because it's important to the government, and people, that everyone gets to mail a letter or send a package and keep in communication with people."

"Aren't Groceries as important as mail?" The Boy asked.

"No," I said, "It's not that. Everyone agrees Groceries are important, but if the Government got into the Grocery business, it would put the private Grocery Companies out of business, and plus, nobody would want to go into the Grocery Store end of it." Something about that bugged me -- I kept thinking of Federal Express and UPS and the Post Office, for some reason, but I shrugged it aside. "We've got the Best Grocery System In the World, and you don't want to mess with that, right?" I figured if the guy on the radio swayed me, it'd sway The Boy.

That was the end of that, more or less. I was going to, the next day, call ahead and make a Grocery Appointment so I could go to the regular store in three weeks, since the follow-up appointment wasn't for new Groceries, but I was pretty busy and, anyway, I had groceries now, so I didn't need an appointment for three weeks away. I didn't know how long the corn flakes would last, but I guessed that if I couldn't get in when they ran out, I'd just go to the Urgent Groceries again.

The only real shocker was that about 3 months later, we got this thing in the mail. We got, like, four things, actually, all these papers that said This Is Not A Bill and had all kinds of figures and numbers on them. I couldn't figure them out -- I've been to college, but these were confusing -- but I didn't need to figure them out. Since they said This Is Not A Bill, I didn't need to do anything so I just threw them away.

The fourth one, though, was a bill, and it was for $4,000. Four thousand bucks! And they said it had to be paid within 30 days or they might send me to a collection agency.

I didn't have four grand sitting around, and anyway, I had a Grocery Plan, so this had to be a mistake. I finally got a chance to call the number on the bill and talk to the lady -- I had to go outside at work to do it because I'm not supposed to make personal phone calls -- and I said that it had to be a mistake because I had a Plan and because it was so expensive.

"I didn't even know how much those corn flakes cost!" I said, and she said that she was sorry about that but there was nothing she could do.

"But the Cereal Specialist said I needed those corn flakes and didn't give me a choice," I said. She didn't have any answer for that one, so I said "Well, anyway, it must be a mistake because I've got a Plan, so I don't have to pay for corn flakes."

"It's not a mistake, sir," she said. "You're not covered for those benefits you received," and when I asked what that meant, she said that because I was a new enrollee, I wasn't covered for Hunger, as that was something she said was a "pre-existing condition."

"You mean," I said, "If I was hungry when I went shopping, you wouldn't pay for it, but if I wasn't hungry, then you would?"

"Exactly," she said. She explained that helped keep their costs down so that I could afford the Grocery Plan.

I tried to make a payment plan, but she said they didn't do that, and that I'd have to pay in full or they might garnish my wages. I talked to a guy I know about this, and he said that maybe a lawyer could help me, but all the lawyers I talked to just said that I could file bankruptcy, and I don't want to do that if I don't have to. I've been just sending them $20 here and there, whenever we have a little extra money, and hoping that they don't sue me or something. I can't keep that up for long, though, since my boss said that they're going to have to start charging the employees more for Grocery Plans to make ends meet at the business. So they're going to raise the contribution to 25%, which seems fair, I guess because with the recession and all, everyone's cutting back and I don't want to get laid off, so paying more seems like a good idea if it keeps me in my job. We couldn't ask many questions, since he told us about it on a conference call; he's on vacation right now, someplace warm like Guatamala or something, but he said even he's going to pay 25% of his wages, so it's not like I'm the only one sacrificing.

_____________________________________________________________

You wouldn't put up with that kind of thing for groceries... so why put up with it for health care?

Tomorrow, or soon, the House of Representatives is going to vote on the health care reform bill. This bill is not everything that's needed -- but it's a good step along the way.

Health care is a basic right that America should guarantee to everyone, and you can help. Contact your representative and tell him or her that you want Universal Health Care. See the links below.

Then contact the White House, and remind President Obama that he said this:


'We can have universal health care by the end of the next president's first term, by the end of my first term,'' Obama said, bringing 600 union workers to their feet during a question-and-answer session with members of AFL-CIO affiliated unions...


And tell him to quit mucking around and get Health Care Reform passed!


To contact your legislator, click this link and follow the simple directions
.

To contact the White House, click this link and fill in the form.




Thursday, October 29, 2009

Um... (Or: Why You Should Always Carry A Copy Of Your Book With You Wherever You Go)


Here's a question that just popped into my mind as I wrote that title, a question that's apropos of nothing:

Does "wherever" have two, or three, e's? It seems like it should be whereever but my spellchecker highlights that, while wherever gets a pass. So I guess I will add wherever to the list of Words That Always Look Incorrectly Spelled. That list includes, so far:

wherever
occasional (which I always want to spell with two c's, two s's, and sometimes with an extra l. It just seems to me like the word occasional should have more letters.)

That all has nothing to do with what I'm posting about today. What I'm posting about today is my big interview with Dan Potacke, an interview that was (will be?) on TV.

I'm not embarrassed to admit that I sometimes in the past have planned out (some would say daydreamed, but you're not supposed to do that while driving) what will happen when the media starts interviewing me about my writing career. Generally, the scene is something like me sitting, sun shining on me, while I'm wearing, say, a polo shirt and cargo shorts (and my beloved Crocs). I'm probably in Hawaii, but I may be in New York City or, sometimes, and for some reason, I might be sitting outside the Wisconsin state capitol.

I'm generally being interviewed by Katie Couric, that being because I began planning/daydreaming these mock interviews back when she was on the Today show. I'm sure, though, that a nightly news anchor might also sit down and interview a promising new author.

Mostly, those mock interviews focus on what a great guy I am, how great the book is, how nice it is to be superrich and sleep in every day, the various stars who will be playing the various characters from my various books in the various movies they're making... the usual.

I've now been interviewed not just in the newspaper but also on The Dan Potacke show for television (?) and I can, because of that, compare the daydream with the reality.

The newspaper interview was somewhat like I imagined it, in that some of it took place on a sunny day. The rest was different: I wore a suit, I was not superrich, nobody was playing anybody in any movies... but it was still a lot of fun and I liked seeing the article in the paper even though I think I take a horrible picture. You know how your voice always sounds funny, and not like your voice, when you hear it on a recording? That's how I look when I see myself: my self-image of me doesn't in any way whatsoever match the real-world me.

The television interview was vastly different. It was set up with Madison comic Alan Talaga via email, and then followed up by him coming to my office to pick up a copy of the book I was plugging, Eclipse. We talked a bit when he did that, about the book and about his job and about The Dan Potacke Show, and more about his job, and then he confirmed that I'd be appearing on Monday, October 26, and left.

(Alan Talaga, by the way, is the real-world alter ego of Dan Potacke. I didn't know that when I first emailed him about the show. When Alan responded and said I could appear on the show, I asked him who did the show, him or Dan, at which point Alan very politely explained to me that Dan is a character he created.)

(I don't get out a lot.)

It wasn't until October 26 that I realized I didn't know anything else about the show -- not when I was supposed to be there, or whether I was supposed to wear anything in particular, or even, at first, where the bar it was filmed at was.

I decided that since Alan said the show started filming around 6:30. Sweetie was coming with me, so I had to leave work and go pick her up and then head back downtown, as the bar was only about 5 blocks from my office. (That meant that I drove 14 miles, over the course of over an hour, to get to a bar five blocks away from me.)

(That kind of planning is why I don't get out a lot.)

We got to The Frequency, where the show is filmed, about 6:20 -- I was early for a change -- and met Alan on the way in as he was coming out to talk to a guy.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey," he said.

Then we went inside to scout out the bar. I hadn't been in a bar in about 5 years, I figure, and had never been in this bar before. It looked about typical for what I remembered hipster bars to be: lots of band posters and band stickers and a couple people-younger-and-cooler-than-me hanging out, drinking. On a Monday? I thought. The very prospect made me feel tired and a little hung over.

I got a Diet Coke, Sweetie got a water, and we waited. Alan made his way over to us and asked if I had a copy of my book with me.

"Um, no," I said. I have, at any one time, only one copy of Eclipse in my possession, tops. It costs money to order copies and I don't have money to devote to that, so I don't order more copies than I need. My first copy of Eclipse is currently in the possession of someone in Dave Eggers' entourage. (In fact, I only today realized that he'd never returned it, and had to send another email to ask about it.)

My second copy of Eclipse had been given to Alan a week before. So I didn't have a copy on me, or a copy, period.

(I also don't have a copy of my other two books, really. One I sent to my Mom, and one I had at home because I figure an author should have copies of his books, but the one I have at home [Do Pizza Samples Really Exist?] fell into Mr F's clutches and he tore the cover off -- strange, since he's the one on the cover -- so I have only one copy of any of my books, and that one has a torn-and-taped cover.)

Alan explained that he'd forgotten his copy and explained that he'd really liked the book -- I should blurb that!-- and said he'd try to have something on his laptop on the stage to show people.

[SPOILER ALERT! HE DIDN'T!]

I asked when I would come on and where I'd go and he said he'd announce me and I'd come up (to the song Monster Mash, which he said not to take personally because everyone would be coming up to that song, since it was his Halloween show)

(I wouldn't have taken it personally.)

And then he went to prepare for the show and Sweetie and I drank our nonalcoholic drinks and made small talk about how we never come to bars, and about how Oldest would probably have loved to be at a bar on a Monday night.

I had invited Oldest and her 21-year-old friends to come, sending her the email with the address, but Oldest had told me "I don't read my email."

The show itself began with a stand-up comic, Darryl Teske, who was very funny. I especially liked this joke: Commenting on the recession, Darryl noted that everything has gone up in price. "Groceries," he said "have gone up like 700%." After a pause, he then said: "How is Taco Bell still charging the same price for tacos?"

Dan then did a bit with his assistant about whether her baby was a cutie pie or the Antichrist, and followed that up with the Wheel of Fantasticness, rechristened for Halloween, and then an interview with the guys at DrunkDial101, then some more stuff, and then me. (In between there were visits from Third Eye Blind guy and the like, all of which you should watch the show to see.)

I got to sit up on stage and describe the book and answer questions. Dan's first question -- which I should have anticipated, was along the lines of what's the book about, which is when I realized that not only should I have a copy of the book with me, but also, I should have some idea what I'm going to say when someone says 'what's the book about?'

I don't know why, but I never have an answer to that. And I should. I should have a quick, one-line answer that invites people to want to know more. A logline, as the Save The Cat! guy would say.

But I don't, and I'll work on that. Instead, I began trying to describe what I think of as the complex structure of my science-fiction-horror story about an astronaut, boiling it down to something that I thought a group of twenty-somethings would want to hear, and to read, while not minimizing what I think are the great aspects of the book, the psychological mind-games and twisty-little-sneaky parts about the book...

...Oh, and also the part about how some chapters are classic rock songs, and also how some chapters are based on physics prinicpals! That ran through my head, and I discarded them as impractical to explain to a crowd in a bar...

...and, I thought, don't forget his troubled childhood! So I threw a bit of that in there and then tried to wrap it all up with a mention of a murder.

(Eventually, the show will be online and you can see how I did.)

Dan then asked some questions about marketing it, and other things I write, and websites, and I was, I think, reasonably coherent about those and managed to get in plugs for the other sites and also some of my short stories, in an easy-to-remember way...

...although I also realized that I didn't know the web address where you could actually buy the book. I mean, I know it's available on Lulu.com, but I have a specific address there for all my books

(it's this)

and I wanted to give them that because if they went to look, they might not buy Eclipse but they might buy one of the other ones -- that's how marketing is supposed to work, right?-- only I didn't know it.

So I ended up instead telling them to get it on Lulu.com, and I could have shown them the book, but neither Dan nor I had it there, so I tried to describe the cover of the book (Red with an astronaut on it, I said. How many books like that could there be out there?)

(A lot, it turns out.)

And there was some more banter, and the show ended not long after I was done.

Sweetie and I walked across a chilly, dark, Capitol Square talking (and briefly talking with Darryl Teske the comic, who also was walking that way) and it hit me:

"I just finished my first book tour," I said.




Click here to learn more about The Dan Potacke Show.

Click here to go to the Facebook fan page I finally set up for Eclipse.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Money! (Or: Am I Writing Less Or Not?)


It may seem as if I've been blogging less lately, and that's maybe true. It feels like I'm doing just as much as always, but then I look and see how long it's been since some blogs have been published, and I think "I've got to do better."

I never, of course, think "I've got to have fewer blogs," or "I should have fewer projects" or even "I should just maybe focus on my real job and do that pretty well," although that's one reason why I've actually been blogging and doing other writing less: I've been a lot busier at work, so busy that I'm not even always putting quotes around my "job" nowadays. So busy that I have to periodically delay doing some writing on my day off to write an outline for a seminar my boss is presenting, as I did the other day.

So even when I'm not "writing," I'm "writing."

Other times, I get slowed down by, say, Oldest stopping by yesterday after I'd put the Babies! to bed for their nap (they didn't nap). Oldest felt chatty and tried to talk to me while I was doing the all-important work of "Trying to think up villains to use as possible candidates for The Best Worst Villain Ever." If my writing ever seems a bit spotty to you, it's because it often goes like this:

[Music playing in the background, probably an Aerosmith song, since I have those on my iTunes for some reason and they've never been played, for obvious reasons, which means this month I'm listening to them, because for October I gave up music I've heard before.)(Because of this.)

Oh. I forgot the closing bracket: ]

Type type type type

"Are these pretzels for dinner or to eat?"

"For dinner. But you can have some."

Type type type type type

"Why doesn't the microwave work?"

"It does."

Type type type type type.

"Can I check my Facebook."

Sigh.

But I do keep writing, and adjusting my schedule as I note what's making me money and what's not. My goal, after all, is Riches & Hawaii (with Agents and Publishers along the way), but I don't care how that goal is achieved. Sure, ideally, I get to Riches & Hawaii (wouldn't it be good if there was a city called Riches, Hawaii?) because I write a bestseller which is then optioned for a movie, which then stars someone Sweetie likes so that she doesn't forbid me to go to the movie premiere (and ideally doesn't star Jennifer Aniston... sorry, Sweetie... because I don't think she's a big draw for movies anymore), and then I retire, after the premiere, to Riches, Hawaii, and write for a living even though I don't need to, anymore.

But if instead one of my blogs becomes popular and draws advertising dollars, or gets someone to make a movie about me, or gets optioned into a book, well, I'd be okay with that, too.

Or if instead, I sell a short story and it becomes wildly popular through some twists of fate, a la "Brokeback Mountain," well, then, that, too, is okay with me.

I keep track of my stats, and where the money is coming from, and what people are interested in, and what they comment on, and what I like to write, and I mix it all together and try to keep it fun for me while also keeping it interesting for you, and money-generating, on some level, for me.

This month, then, I've changed things up not just to recognize that I've got a lot more to do at my real work -- because that's where the real money comes in and real people are counting on me, making it important that I not worry about Rachel and Brigitte in limbo when real people's houses and cars are in limbo-- but also to recognize that I've got different priorities.

I've got more people reading my blogs on a Kindle, for one thing, as many as four, and while that doesn't sound like a lot, if someone is paying to read a blog, then I feel like they should get their money's worth, so the blogs that have Kindle subscribers get more posts. (If you're interested in doing that, and you should be,Click here for more information.)(You'll get a free 14 day trial, too!)

I've also gotten short stories published under a pseudonym, elsewhere, paying short stories, and I've started focusing on those more, because they pay, and I like writing them. (I'm writing them under a pseudonym for a couple of reasons that I won't go into, but I've had two published already, in just a month.)

And I also focus on the business of writing, which is selling what I've written. I've got a backlog of short stories and a novel that's in final editing and a novel that I've published myself, and I want to sell those things. So instead of spending an hour blogging about the Babies!, I opt on more and more occasions to spend an hour doing things like I did this morning, which was to send a query letter to Wisconsin Public Television's In Wisconsin suggesting they do a story about independently-published authors and the changes the Internet and e-books are wreaking on publishing, something that's on my mind for obvious reasons, and for less obvious reasons, too.

Eventually, though, I'll be living in Riches, Hawaii with an infinite amount of time and money (infinite for me) and I'll be able to fully devote all my resources to blogging, at which point you will have more stories about the Babies! than you will know what to do with.

(Possibly, I have hit that point already. I don't know. All the stories seem amusing to me, like yesterday when... oh, never mind. I'm out of time.)

Remember: I'm gonna be on TV:




On Monday, October 26, if you come to the Frequency Bar in Madison, you'll see ME interviewed on The Dan Potacke Show. I'll be talking about how I wrote a book, and how I published a book, and how I hope that all the people who are there getting drunk will somehow remember all that and will then go out and BUY the book.

This all came about because each morning, I spend a little time doing stuff designed to sell the stuff I've been writing. I rotate through "Try to get a publisher" and "try to get an agent" and "try to get a book club to use my book" and send an email to a local newspaper and find someone who will agree to review my book and If You Give A Blog A Book, and more.

One day I thought: Local cable! There's the answer, and I looked up The Dan Potacke Show, and sent an email to the show, and next thing I knew, I was signed up to go on the 26th. So it just goes to show... I don't know. Something. It goes to show something about how, if you're really tired in the morning and you think of an idea and go with it, even though later on when you are fully awake, you think Man, I don't know if that'll work, well, it might work.


Click here to find out more about The Dan Potacke Show.

Click here to find out more about The Frequency.

Look at this video to see what book I'll be talking about:



Or click here to go buy the book and see my other books for sale.

Monday, October 19, 2009

Action! (Or: I'm going to be on TV!)


On Monday, October 26, if you come to the Frequency Bar in Madison, you'll see ME interviewed on The Dan Potacke Show. I'll be talking about how I wrote a book, and how I published a book, and how I hope that all the people who are there getting drunk will somehow remember all that and will then go out and BUY the book.

This all came about because each morning, I spend a little time doing stuff designed to sell the stuff I've been writing. I rotate through "Try to get a publisher" and "try to get an agent" and "try to get a book club to use my book" and send an email to a local newspaper and find someone who will agree to review my book and If You Give A Blog A Book, and more.

One day I thought: Local cable! There's the answer, and I looked up The Dan Potacke Show, and sent an email to the show, and next thing I knew, I was signed up to go on the 26th. So it just goes to show... I don't know. Something. It goes to show something about how, if you're really tired in the morning and you think of an idea and go with it, even though later on when you are fully awake, you think Man, I don't know if that'll work, well, it might work.


Click here to find out more about The Dan Potacke Show.

Click here to find out more about The Frequency.

Look at this video to see what book I'll be talking about:



Or click here to go buy the book and see my other books for sale.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Stop! (Or, Not Everything Has To Have A Stupid Name!)


The other day, I mentioned, in the course of pointing out another rightness of mine, that I've apparently been writing blooks, which is a blog that's also a book, or maybe a book that became a blog, or something. I don't know exactly what a blook is but I know it's a dumb word.

And, way back when, I made the point that "HLN" as an acronym for Headline News is dumb, too, because not only are acronyms not always necessary but also H-L-N is not a proper acronym for "Headline" news, since headline is one word. (I also mentioned, in that post on TBOE, some good stuff about the Superbowl.)

So my stance on dumb acronyms and weird names for things is well-known, and I'm going to keep up the fight by pointing out, whenever I feel like it, more of the same idiocy.

Like today's stupid name for things: Nog.

I was reading in the latest Newsweek, or at least the latest one I'm reading (I'm a little behind) about hyperlocal news sites, web pages that cover small communities the way local newspapers used to cover small towns: by focusing on boring stuff and also mentioning who got arrested. (I read all the tech stuff I can, to keep up with the ways I could possibly publish my stuff and get rich.)

En route to the end of the article, I came across this line: "The influx of new sites may be the first real threat to small-time bloggers... Jamie Ross founded MaplewoodOnline.com in 1997. Back then the site was an old-fashioned [? An old-fashioned website?] digital bulletin board, but lately is has added... what he calls a nog, or newsy blogs."

What's wrong with just calling it a news blog? The word blog is lame, already. Nog is doubly so.