When trekking through Norway, gravity, while still mandatory, is infinitely malleable.
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2QUftX4PYsE]
All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.
Yes, it’s the great and magnificent Philippe Gilbert, champion cyclist of Belgium, and today also of the Tour de France. Bravo on your amazing performance today Monsieur Gilbert.That’s right dear readers, it is July, the month I officially excuse myself from a self-imposed limit of only a couple of hours per week of television (without this limit, I would be able to recite you all the main events and storylines of Dexter, Heroes, The Walking Dead, Lost, and Breaking Bad. I would not, however, have clean laundry, a job, or any muscle fiber beyond what is necessary to click buttons on the remote and carry popcorn from the kitchen to the couch).I estimate I will spend at least sixty-five hours glued to the idiot box this month watching the world’s most amazing (male) athletes perform feats of monumental courage, strength, and athleticism in spectacular France. This does not include the untold extra hours before and after each day's viewage that I will spend reading news about what happened in each stage, why it happened, predictions about what will happen in the following stages, and obsessively reading and sending tweets with the same fanatical compulsion my dog has when vacuuming up rabbit pellets whenever he thinks we’re not looking. Whatever. I watch the Tour for inspiration, which is a requirement for a healthy soul. And because I have ridiculous bike envy.There are two kinds of people in the world: those who give a flying boomerang at a running kangaroo about the Tour, and those who don’t. I’m quite certain I’ve already lost those who don’t. So, for the remaining readers of today’s post, don’t worry. I’m not going to bore you with a recap of the first stage, because I know you too were up at 5 a.m. and watched it yourself. Instead, I’ll just share a few of my favorite online resources and twitter tags. Oh yeah, it’s gonna be a great tour!!!Wait, do kangaroos run?Anyway.OnlineTo watch it streaming live on the ‘net for $29.95:http://tourdefrance.nbcsports.com/news/Places to watch it live streaming for free:http://www.cyclingfans.com/live_race_coverageThis is a great site out of Boulder. If you love snarky and irreverent, you will love these folks. Also on Twitter and Facebook.http://chamoisnews.com/Good list of this year’s teams:http://www.letour.com/2011/TDF/RIDERS/us/partants.htmlAussie network cycling site:http://www.sbs.com.au/cyclingcentral/Girls and Cycling:http://fuckyeahgirlsandcycling.tumblr.com/And of course:http://velonews.competitor.com/www.cyclingnews.comwww.velonation.comTwitter Tags#tourdefrance (where I spend most of my waking hours)#tdf#letour#tour#(any team)#(any rider)#cycling#procycling#iamacyclingnut(whew! that’s enough tags for one race)Feel free to give me a shout too @tammysalyer.So friends, I’d love to hear your hopes, predictions, thoughts on Contador and the doping issue, and anything else Tour related. Think Lance will show up for a “cameo” appearance and spend a day hanging with the Radioshack crew? Will Levi amaze or disappoint? Now that Vinokourav is out of Contador’s shadow, how hungry do you think he is for a win? Do Wiggins and Cadel have much of a chance? Oh, the drama! The excitement! The tight spandex!I'll leave you with one of the greatest Tour moments of all time.[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gr89ku-K2WU]*For those who aren't cycling geeks, yellow, green and polka-dot refer to different colored jerseys competitors win each day for points totals in different categories. The yellow jersey, or Maillot Jaune, is awarded to the racer with the best overall time. The green jersey goes to whoever has the most sprint points. And the polka-dot jersey goes to the racer who has the highest number of points in the mountain climbs.
When in New Zealand, it would probably be best to leave your wussy "O" face at home.[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-_BCKZqDLUM][youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c-lrE2JcO44]
Although the use of haka by the All Blacks rugby union team and the Kiwis rugby league team has made one type of haka familiar, it has led to misconceptions.[2] Haka are not exclusively war dances or performed only by men.[3] Some are performed by women, others by mixed groups, and some simple haka are performed by children. Haka are performed for various reasons: for amusement, as a hearty welcome to distinguished guests, or to acknowledge great achievements or occasions (McLean 1996:46-47).War haka (peruperu) were originally performed by warriors before a battle, proclaiming their strength and prowess in order to intimidate the opposition. Today, haka constitute an integral part of formal or official welcome ceremonies for distinguished visitors or foreign dignitaries, serving to impart a sense of the importance of the occasion.Various actions are employed in the course of a performance, including facial contortions such as showing the whites of the eyes and the poking out of the tongue, and a wide variety of vigorous body actions such as slapping the hands against the body and stamping of the feet. As well as chanted words, a variety of cries and grunts are used. Haka may be understood as a kind of symphony in which the different parts of the body represent many instruments. The hands, arms, legs, feet, voice, eyes, tongue and the body as a whole combine to express courage, annoyance, joy or other feelings relevant to the purpose of the occasion.
All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.
When in France, never, EVER set your camcorder down.[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rIu5B3Fsstg]
All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.
Do you know what's even more awesome than one giant ass cramp? That's right! TWO giant ass cramps, a matching set to be precise. Gluteus Maximi sans blood or oxygen equals Gluteus Graniti. Imagine, if you will, the feeling of a tiny sadist hanging onto your thighs and hammering a red hot icepick directly into your lateral ass cheeks with every step. Sounds fun, right?This is the experience I often have when running on roads, especially if it's more than five miles. Naturally, because I know it's going to happen, I never hesitate to sign up for a "fun" run when time permits. This weekend I happened to be staying at the swankest resort in Colorado Spring, Casa de la Parents, and heard there was a 10 mile race happening in Garden of the Gods. "Self," I said to myself, because that's what I call me. "You haven't run more than a few miles a week in a month or so. This is the perfect opportunity to take in some stellar scenery and give yourself the chance to recall exactly what it feels like to have your legs feel like they're about to be ripped from their sockets. Sweet!"So up I rose at 5:30am to the rolling feeling of nausea that happens when one is out of bed before their body has given them permission, downed a GU (which added an interesting twist to the nausea, but I'll spare you those details), and off my race supporters and I went. It was a perfect day. Perfect. High-40s, sun up, light breeze. Maybe 1500 runners were gathered at Memorial Park in Manitou Springs creating what satellite imagery might first mistake for an explosion at a rainbow-colored spandex factory. One thing that can be said about runners, we are a stylish bunch, and we love our synth fabs (doesn't that sound like a Rotersand song?).Manitou Springs is another one of Colorado's hidden gems. It's like a Deadwood, South Dakota but with happy people (sorry Deadwood, the series HBO made of you has forever tainted my impression). It also seems to be the place people with tattoos gather when the homogeneity of straight-laced Colorado Springs has become too oppressive. Needless to say, I'm right at home there. The race itself turned out to be somewhat of an art run due to this inked population, and instead of chasing jerseys, I spent the morning chasing blobs of blue and black to try and discern whether a particular image was a tiger, a Dead Kennedys album cover, or a rose. This type of event gives the term "chasing the dragon" a whole new meaning.The race was actually going quite wonderfully until a long downhill on mile 8. Pushing down the hill at a 6:20 pace was apparently more than my less-than-enthusiastic glutes were going to tolerate. First the right one seized, and like any good runner, instead of slowing I began the mantra "relax, don't do it, when you wanna clench to it" in my head, hoping it would give up and realize that it's complaints were no match for my indomitable willpower to catch that guy who passed me on the uphill. I was indeed winning this battle, until cheek number two went on red alert. In many ways, this balanced misery is better. You can more easily attain systematic lurching when both your ass cheeks have turned into flesh bombs of agony.
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| Hill of Doom |
Still, there's only so far you can stagger before your legs threaten to spill you senselessly to the ground in protest. I veered over for a 30-second stretching session that alleviated the worst of the booty inferno and allowed me to almostsprint into the finish. At one hour and thirty-one minutes, my time wasn't quite what I was hoping, but the whole escapade served to reinforce what I believe has become my most firmly held belief: Roads suck. Trails rule.
All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.
Hi. My name is Tammy and I love guns. (Crowd says in unison, "Hi Tammy.")I've loved guns for around twenty years, and it is getting close to being a perversity. (Crowd nods understandingly.)*Sigh* It all began innocently enough when I was twelve and my uncle took me out into the middle of the Sonoran desert to hunt rattle snakes with a Colt .45. Oh my, yes, that was fun! And they tasted just like really garlicky and buttery chicken. Then the next year it was a trip to Alaska where we spent more time with the .45, and a .22 rifle, a crossbow, a compound bow (they like their weapons in Palinvillia) and then, the grand finale that ruined me from ever being a passive, peace-loving hippie--three sticks of dynamite in an abandoned quarry. Later the neighbors (that lived three miles away) complained we had caused their dishes to fall out of cupboards. Oops! But the real thrill of that day was crouching behind a berm to hide from flying projectiles and watching as a hubcap or some kind of scrap metal screamed over our heads at such a high velocity it was more something felt than seen. I knew in a primal lizard-brain way that if I'd stood up a second before, I would have been decapitated, which was oddly thrilling and terrifying at the same time. It was pure power. (Some of the crowds' eyes begin to gleam in repressed longing.)And things just got worse. It was an obsession that I couldn't shake. From there it was taking classes in criminal justice in college just so I could go to the range (the crowd nods sympathetically). And then, the ultimate sacrifice in a soul-crushing need to feed a jonz, the army. All those huge, darkly gleaming bits of black metal just waiting to be…um, shot off (tittering fills the back of the room).Anyway, in all seriousness, an M16 is alright, for a get-the-job-done-with-no-flourish device. But the need was strong and I had to get my hands on something, well, bigger. The M249 squad automatic rifle was the perfect hunk of joy in a manageable package with a fire rate of 800-1000 rounds per minute (gasps of excitement). And an M60, well, it left nothing to be desired (other than a reduction in weight). I started seeking ways to get the range more often, offering to clean others' weapons, carry their ammo, whatever it took. Then I met the Mark 19 and a few claymore mines and I thought I'd gone to heaven. Using either of those was like being inside a dragon's heart--dark, thunderous, massive, monstrous. There's nothing quite like holding a human-manufactured object that has the force and power to blow the shit out of any living thing with something as easy and as effortless as a trigger pull. It's a magic that should not be accessible to human hands, but somehow it has become exactly that, and has changed the world in ways our ancestors could never have comprehended. The fascinating and frightening thing about a gun is how freaking easy it is to use. A curse, really.But finally, an intervention happened. I woke up with yet another lingering hangover from too much gunpowder and realized the army was just a terrible enabler. I had to get out, put it all behind me, and start a new, non-weaponized life. It was hard (but not that hard, let's be honest, the military exists to suck your soul down a giant ethics-compromising sewer), but I did it. There were a few years in there where I never touched anything more dangerous than a boomerang.But sometimes these little peccadilloes can be enjoyed in moderation. One must simply set limits. So I took the liberty of visiting a very old friend of mine last weekend who shares the same fetish. Between guns and Scotch, we are quite the aficionados. This friend of mine kills bad guys for a living--oh, don't worry, the government pays him to do it and even tells him who they are, so it's alright--which gives him a special appreciation for the finer details necessary in a firearm that's guaranteed to stop something that requires stopping. Fortunately, all we had to worry about were zombies. The slow-- make that, totally immobile--kind. Sadly, I have to admit, my aim has fallen way behind the power curve. But I can still hit 'em where it counts.
Sadly, this one suffered a terminal jam on the second cartridge so had to sit the day out.
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All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.
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| Carmilla Voiez |
What is your writing process? Are you a dedicated everyday writer, or catch-as-catch can? Do you have any special rituals or activities you do that help you prepare to write?
Do you have any advice for other writers? Anything else you would like to mention or elaborate on?
You also have a very cool online clothing story called Drac-In-A-Box that’s earned some awards. Do you want to tell us anything about that?
If you'd like to read more interviews by other other writers, including me, wander on over to The Battered Suitcase blog. Because really, when you aren't actually writing, what could be better than reading about writing? Cheers!
All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.
We all know people who struggle with communicating. A simple question like, "What do you want for dinner?" can turn into an hour long hemming-and-hawing, shrugging and eye-rolling exercise that gets you NOWHERE near a decision on what culinary delicacy to grace your table with that evening. Some people, out of a well-meant effort to remain pleasant, just don't want to answer in a way they know you'll disagree with; others really don't want to put the effort into thinking about it; and a few may actually be perplexed by the question (hopefully not the example above, but other types). I live with someone who has a practiced expertise with all of the above. When I'm frustrated by his half-coherent response to something I've said, I often chalk it up to the fact that he's just a terrible communicator--not willfully attempting to induce me to throw something large and heavy directly at him. This latter point is sometimes very hard to remember.
However, after reading this xkcd comic today and showing him the second frame,
His response was quite simple:
I can be perfectly clear in C++ :-)
printf("Ph");
do {
printf("t");
} while(haveMoreSpittle());
printf("!!!");
See, it's not that hard to understand a programmer. It's just a matter of picking the right language!
All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.
Oooh, put your best erotique fantasy fan face on because next week I'll be posting an interview with author Carmilla Voiez whose first novel Starblood was just released in Amazon. Yes, it's okay to be titillated.
In a seedy Goth club, a beautiful woman dances, waiting to be set free. Along an unlit street, another woman stumbles,fleeing her pursuer. In a darkened room, a man speaks to demons.Starblood, the debut novel by Carmilla Voiez, is a tale of magic and horror. Blinded by love, Satori, a young magician, attempts a spell that goes horribly wrong, resulting in the demon Lilith returning to Earth. Satori knows he must send Lilith back. The dark goddess, brimming with power, makes it her mission to wreak havoc on Satori's life by ensnaring Star, the woman he loves, and her friends in a web of chaos and deceit.Lust, obsession, terror and humiliation storm into the lives of Star and Satori, proving the age-old maxim – be careful what you wish for.
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What do dreamy blue eyes, steroid cocktails and giant hammers have in common? They are all the main components of the new Marvel comic-adapted movie Thor. Notice what is missing from this main component list: good acting, strong plot, complex and well-developed characters. But who needs those minor elements when you have Marvel’s legions of fans backing you? Let’s break this down.First, blue eyes. Yes, I’m a sucker for a nice pair, but when they become the only noteworthy characteristic of a movie’s main character, I can’t help but feel as if there just isn’t enough movie in my movie.But wait! They’re NOT the only characteristic of Thor, as played by the once hunky Aussie actor Chris Hemsworth. There is the apparently constant diet of anabolic milkshakes that turned this formerly proportionate actor into something both unnaturally lumpy and strangely grody (to revive an adjective from my middle school years). I almost couldn’t see his head, much less his eyes, on top of that over-inflated Sequoia stump of muscle mass. Note to bodybuilders--when the diameter of your neck exceeds the diameter of your brainpan, it’s time to drop the barbell and walk away. Godiva’s sake man, something could burst!Then of course, there is Thor’s massive hammer, Mjölnir, which, despite Odin’s not-too-subtle remonstration that it could actually be used for building as well as destroying, Thor wields like a supersonic baton of death throughout the film. Seriously, Thor’s mad twirling skillz would easily make every Majorette in the world cower in shame at their pathetic and puny human artifice. Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying: Thor could expand his repertoire of hobbies to include marching in a baton-twirling troupe. He really is that good. You can probably tell I’ve never read the Marvel comic namesake of this movie. The aforementioned legions of fans may well, most likely do in fact, have a completely different takeaway from it than I did. Besides, it’s not as if i didn’t enjoy it. Where ever did you get that idea? I am easily entertained, after all. As long as there are epic special effects, plot is optional. Other perks included Anthony Hopkins, who I’ve often wished I could just sit down and have tea with. The man has more presence and acting ability than half of Hollywood combined. And of course, Stellan Skarsgård is always a delight. His role in Good Will Hunting has won him permanent kudos in my book (Breaking the Waves notwithstanding). But the absolute highlight--SPOILER ALERT--was the cameo by Jeremy “I make Modesto more than just some hick burg in the flats of California-land” Renner. I won’t go into more detail than that.So, the big question you’re probably asking yourself is: Should I see this flick or not? Unfortunately, only you can answer that. If you love Marvel, big muscles, metaphysical questions about magic vs. science, and Natalie “I’m the female Matt Damon” Portman, then the answer is unequivocally “yes.” But, and this is a big but, if you require a strong story and meaningful character arc, you may prefer to see the next Harry Potter instead. Just sayin’.
All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.
Please disregard the flippant title of this post. It's just attention-seeking behavior. But seriously, after the day I've had, I just want to say that I will never again make snide comments about cops that are unwarranted (the warranted ones will continue, unabated).The reason? It's easy. I just spent two days in Vail attending a Safe Schools seminar. Upon arrival on Thursday afternoon, I parked my car and forgot about it. This morning, two rather emotional-packed days later (it's hard not to get teary-eyed when hearing stories from father's whose children were victims of school shootings--by other children. I'll be doing another post on this soon.), I hopped in to find my battery dead. Expletives followed--those who know me can well imagine the variety and creativity of said expletives--then reason returned and I set out to find someone who might be able to give me a jump.Lo and behold, just across from me was an officer getting into his Windsor Police Suburban. Perhaps it's due to my rampant juvenile delinquency or an innate and deeply-ingrained cynical distrust of authority, but I've never trusted or appreciated people in uniform (yes, you may laugh at the irony). But I figured what the hell? It was almost a certainty that this gentlemen would have jumper cables, and, my hopeful mind reasoned, isn't it a cop's duty to help those in need, or something?So I asked for his help and not only was he willing, but absolutely happy to. Wow. I've never felt so simultaneously silly for leaving my lights on, chagrined for all the senselessly zealous anti-cop statements I've made, and exuberantly grateful. It was a fun mix of emotions, let me tell you.I just wanted to give a shout out to Officer Lopez from Ft. Collins for being so awesome and helpful today--and all people who go out of their way, even inconvenience themselves, to lend a hand to someone who needs it. He's about to become the School Safety Office and had gone through the same two days of training as I. I've no doubt he was just as anxious to hit the road and get home to his two year old and wife, but he took the time to quickly and cheerfully help a chick out. How fantastic.To top it all off, when I stopped for lunch at Quizno's, guess what I discovered after I had already ordered? Yup, forgot my wallet. But you know what the Quizno's guy said? Don't worry about it, just pay for it next time you're in. It has certainly been my day for good fortune!I'm working on paying that good karma bill already and just let my own neighbor know he'd left his lights on. Even if no one had lent me a much needed hand today, there's one thing I can say for sure: it feels damn good to do others a favor when you can.
All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.
The first year of living in Boulder has passed like a quiet wind. I can hardly believe how quickly the time has gone by. And now I have another benchmark to celebrate: the first two weeks at my new job.In the last year, it has been a rocky road to finding a "day job" that would bring me both the kind of satisfaction and salary I need to replace the thrills and chills that I get from my "night job" and true love, which is of course, writing. I've been in that awkward limbo of having the time to do what I want, but the fun of it being tempered by the uncertainty and instability that comes from having less income. I have to confess that I have not explored the east side of the Rockies to any great extent in the last year, despite the time that I've had. Mostly because I'm a slave to my brain and spend so many hours writing, or researching what I plan to be writing. But it's also because I lived on the western slope for a couple of years and did gads of exploring there. The beauty and majesty of western Colorado and eastern Utah still linger with me and I have a nostalgia about that area that I'm afraid to ruin. Silly, I know, but there it is.So anyway, the job thing. I've begun working for the Institute of Behavioral Science at CU and loving it. Of course, I mourn the lost hours of the day where I was previously writing, but there is definitely something to be said for having a healthy salary and, get this, my own office! Yeah, I know it's kind of a shallow thing to be enthused about, but I've never had my own office. And one with a view overlooking Boulder at that, so I'm a little titillated about it. The CU campus is incredibly lovely and such a pleasant place to work. Boulder has been really, really good to me, and I'm still on that gratitude kick I wrote about a few weeks ago.Here are a few pictures I took with my iPhone while walking around campus. Sorry, I don't know the names of the buildings yet...
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| I walk through here everyday to work. There are turtles! |
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| My office, pre-decoration. The only complaint I have is I'm stuck using PCs again. Oh well. |
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| Yes, that's the office's espresso machine. Oh yeah! |
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| One of the new IBS building's gathering spots. It's a great place to work. |
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| My view. |
All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.
I may be ridiculously easy to please, but there's a new toy a family member introduced me to and I swear I could spend hours playing with it. Be warned, if you are a logophile, you need to make sure you have nothing else you have to be doing for the next hour before you follow this link to Wordle.net.
Here a couple of examples from my delicious links and my blog. Have fun!!!
All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.
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| At the start line |
This weekend marked both my and Jer's first official half marathon. Although I've run 13+ miles before, I never "got the t-shirt," and when a friend from here in Colorado told me about the Gemini Desert Rats Trailrunning Festival in Fruita, Colorado, I figured it was time.Have I mentioned that Colorado has spoiled me? There is absolutely no shortage of natural features here in which to totally destroy yourself in the pursuit of an endorphin rush. And yeah, we here at the Salyer-Sullenger casa equate suffering with fun. That being said, there still was no suffering in this weekend's race; it was pure fun from mile one. Even the 2000 foot climb on rocks the consistency of jagged dragon's scales brought an element of enjoyment (especially when passing other people). The best part is the half marathon was actually a half marathon plus two miles. And every minute was sweet.If you haven't seen the trails in western Colorado, you're missing out. They are pure bliss. Every mountain biker I know has already discovered this nirvana, but I had yet to experience it. Trail running makes road running seem like self-flagellation--they just don't compare. Both Jer and I are already laying in plans for next year (perhaps a 25 miler instead of the half...).But the real hero of the weekend was our friend who pushed himself through 50 miles of running in twelve hours. We're talking over 8000 feet of elevation change. And 50 miles of running. Witnessing the kind of mental and physical endurance some people have really helps one put into perspective how anything is truly possible if you are determined enough. It's truly inspiring. Did I mention that it was 50 miles of running?Along those same lines, I watched the movie 127 Hours this weekend, another illustration of how indomitable a person's will can be if they want something bad enough. Danny Boyle pulled off yet another intriguing film (and a whole lot better than Slumdog Millionaire, though he still hasn't topped 28 Days Later, in my opinion). In reality, running 50 miles and cutting off your own arm are really about the same thing--wanting to live a full life.So here's to a full life! What are the things that bring you joy and make you feel like you're living up to the potential you were meant for?
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| At the finish line |
All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.
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| Finn: Grateful for a Good Nap |
All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.
...but I wanted to jump in here with a quickie post and let you know what’s goin’ on.First of all, last week started with a rather spiraling meltdown after first hearing about Mike Pence of the US House of Representatives and his budget proposal to cut all federal funding for Planned Parenthood, furthered by the disbelief and disgust that they actually passed it. What the hell is wrong with those people? Let me get this straight: they’re anti-choice, but they also want to ensure people lose vital access to contraceptives? WTF? How is that logical?Of course, it isn’t. It’s ideology. Simple and stupid. Proves that politicians don’t give a flying eff at a rolling donut about people, and furthermore, they have a deeply socially ingrained undervaluing (even outright hate) for women and will continually pass laws or create limitations on a woman’s full rights, including to her own body. Kinda reminds me of another group of ideologists from last century who imposed birthing laws on women so they could contribute more babies to the Nation. Yeah, you know whom I mean. Here's what I think of you Boner (uh, Boehner), Pence and the rest of the mysoginistic House Republicans.
So anyway, that happened.On a more positive and personal note (although I don’t know what could be more personal than a bunch of rich white dudes trying to tell me what I can or cannot do with my body), I’ve been banging out a ton of final edits on my first novel, Contract of Defiance, with the help of some of my magnificent friends. I am so indebted to the many people who’ve sat down and put some real time and thought into this little book of mine, offered advice and suggestions, and have just been incredibly supportive. (You know who you are, and yes, your names will be in my acknowledgments page. I wish I could do more.) They say writing is a solitary endeavor, but my experience with it has been one of utmost support and sharing.I’m also thirty pages from completing the second draft revisions to my second novel, Contract of Betrayal. Editing, editing, and more editing! Whooo!The road to self-publishing is being derailed for now thanks to another old friend of mine who sent me information on a scifi / fantasy novel contest happening at Del Rey Spectra. I’m going to enter and am really excited it about it. I also discovered through some authors who write in a similar genre to mine that Penguin has an imprint press that will accept unsolicited manuscripts, so I think I’ll give that a go too. As you can see, lots of publishing paths ahead.If you’d like a little more background on the Planned Parenthood issue and / or would like to support them by urging the Senate to burn that budget amendment in the hottest hellfire it can find, check out these links.
All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.
Here's the latest installment of Mr. UT's work on developing my book cover. He's been a little slack on the production line this week. Maybe I'm not paying him enough...To continue my rambling thoughts about some of the reasons given against authors self-publishing their work, let me pick up the thread from point B.As a reminder, the three biggest reasons I hear are, A) there's an endemic belief that if your book was not successful enough to get offered representation by an agent, it just wasn't that good, B) if you self-publish, publishing houses won't take you seriously later on, and C) you won't make as much money self-pubbing as going the traditional route.I can't remember the sources from which I've heard the strange notion that a publishing house (or agent) will automatically disregard your work if they know you self-published something. The obvious would be, if you self-published something AND it was reviewed by myriads of people who thought it was horrid, well yeah, that specific piece of work will never be taken seriously. Not because it was self-published, but because it wasn't any good.A bad self-published book should not be conflated with the idea of self-publishing in general. Because if you put a book out on your own and it's read and highly regarded by these myriads, any publisher or agent with even the tiniest inkling of succeeding in business will snap you up in a second. If your work has proven itself, of course it will be taken seriously. When people know something is good they'll want it, if they know it's bad, they won't, simple as that.The idea that self-published books aren't "real" books comes from the old publishing model of the vanity press where many people just wanted to see their own work in print and would pay to do it. They put a lot of money into creating a few dozen, or hundred copies, and passed them out among friends, family, and in some cases, potential markets. The reality was that many of these authors really weren't "serious" about becoming a success (where success is defined in terms of the works broad exposure and money-making potential) so much of their work didn't have the professional polish of a market-minded author. In those days, it may have been more valid for publishers to think self-published authors would not make the best gamble for the simple reason that many of these authors weren't willing or interested in putting in the "miles" to be the kind of author that has hundreds of copies of their books sitting on bookstore shelves nationwide.But the model has changed.Self-published authors are still composed of the type listed above, but there are many, many others who are hardworking, talented, and willing to put in those necessary miles to achieve success (as defined above). And, here's the kicker, the publishing monopolies are no longer the gatekeepers who get to decide who's books are worthy of being exposed to the world.Self-published authors have changed from being the old model of hopeful writer just looking for any chance to get their foot in the door. Self-published authors in current times realize there is NO door. Readers are out there, and readers are willing to put their money down to get a chance to read the books that most appeal to them, especially if they're cheap and easy to come by. The exact qualities of an e-book. Self-published authors are now taking it upon themselves to provide these without accepting the limitations of overworked, under-capitalized publishing houses. It's a win-win for the author and the reader, and of course, these are the two most important players in the literary world. Or they should be. And with the digital mediums now available and the easy of distributing this type of book, it is finally feasible for authors to be their own publisher.For a more thoughtful discussion of how the cream will rise to the top, thus saving readers the headache of sifting through lots of bad works before finding the good works, read JA Konrath's blog post on this subject.Despite how easy it now is to self-publish a book, it's still obviously important that a writer's work is good. If it is and you put your book out on your own and do the work necessary to get it noticed, it will be a success. And publishers take success seriously.
All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.