A man will turn over half a library to make one book.—Samuel Johnson

On process

Writing the Natural Way: Using Right-Brain Techniques to Release Your Expressive Powers
by Gabriela Lusser Ricco
The first and biggest barrier to writing quality literature is your Left Brain, or your "Sign Mind." This book shows you how to quiet the Sign Mind and let your Design Mind emerge to play.

From Where You Dream: The Process of Writing Fiction
by Robert Olen Butler
Brilliant.

The Journey from the Center to the Page: Yoga Philosophies and Practices as Muse for Creative Writing
by Jeff Davis
Get beyond the typing and the crick in the neck: how to bring your body into it. Includes photos of the poses.


On narrative structure

Making Movies Work: Thinking Like a Filmmaker
by Jon Boorstin
Directly applicable to novel writing.


Story: Substance, Structure, Style, and the Principles of Screenwriting
by Robert McKee
A profoundly detailed book about narrative structure. Not just for screenwriters.


Thirteen Ways of Looking at the Novel
by Jane Smiley
Includes her reviews of 100 novels. A treasure of a book by one of our greatest contemporary novelists.


On the Poetry of the Prose

A Poetry Handbook
by Mary Oliver
Short and sweet. Not just for poets: also an invaluable resource for prose writers.

Artful Sentences: Syntax as Style
by Virginia Tufte
How sentences work: a book of x-rays. Unique, astonishing, and inspiring.


On the Way

Art & Soul: Notes on Creating
by Audrey Flack
The artist as shaman.

Mastery: The Keys to Success and Long-Term Fulfillment
by George Leonard
The Zen of it all.

The War of Art: Winning the Creative Battle
by Steven Pressfield
The best. If you're blocked and you want to buy one book to help yourself, this is the one.

Making a Literary Life: Advice for Writers and Other Dreamers
http://www.carolynsee.com/Books/literarylife.html
by Carolyn See
Wise advice from a highly accomplished and prolific writer with a crackerjack sense of humor.

Posted by: C.M. Mayo

Last week, my final thoughts were about community. If you'd asked me a year ago, I would have said, "Absolutely, reading is a solitary activity. Just me and my book. And maybe a glass of wine." Today, as I'm thinking about reading, I'm realizing that it's not the "me" activity one would imagine.

When I was in the third grade, my teacher would read us a chapter from a book every day. My favorite was Island of the Blue Dolphins. The entire story played out miles from my home—I could see the island from the highway. My mom, the librarian, read to the family during dinner. My favorites from her were the King Arthur stories. Man, I have a weak spot for knights in shining armor.

For a few years, my husband and I had this thing where we'd play the audio version of Neal Stephenson's Snow Crash while on road trips (we don't take many and it's a long book). We'd both read this one separately, of course—how can you be an early Internet geek without a little Stephenson on your reading resume?—but it was just as much fun to hear it together. We'd listen, we'd pause, we'd discuss, we'd remember.

Back when it was first released, we were also playing online with friends in San Francisco. Nobody did anything but play in those days. This was when a graphic, web-browsery thing called NetCruiser was all the rage. Back when it was the height of cool to play chess via email. Back when you could see what was new on the Internet—the entire Internet—and still have time to experiment with the early version of chat.

And we talked about books with those friends. Talked about Snow Crash. Wow, we thought, imagine a virtual world. If you've been to Second Life, you're thinking, "Maybe next virtual world." But no matter, it's a book that came to life. Imagine that...someone imagined a reality, and then someone made that imagination real.

Fast forward to 2008. I've been a member of my book club for about ten years. I'm one of the newer members, though not the newest. I joined after they'd done the Jane Austens and some Russians (saving, however, The Brothers Karamazov for me). That was when we had the "old" list. We've integrated a new list because there were titles on the old list that nobody wanted to read, though a few die-hards insist we have to give it a shot. So once a month, we get together to talk about one book, though we talk about a lot more (there's a reason it's also known as "wine club").

Think about it. You read, however you read. I know people who, for various reasons, are audiobook-only readers. I know people who are blind readers. I know people who read slowly, excrutiatingly slow for someone like me. I know people who rival me in speed (I can't help it, even when I want to linger...). The one thing we all have in common is that reading is just part of the experience.

The best often comes when we talk about the story, the words, the vision, the ideas. Every person comes away from the book with something different. No two people have the same experience when they read a book. It's all about putting impressions together. Books, and I'm talking fiction in particular, are about community. We read, but that's only a piece of the experience. Our relationship with a book doesn't end when we read the final sentence. For some of us, our relationship with certain books never ends at all. And we want to share our thoughts about that book with everyone we meet.

A lot of people worry about the future of the novel. I don't. I do worry about the business of publishing because the industry depends on ad hoc groups to build community and sustain community and maintain the passion necessary to keep the world excited about book—and I'm going to tell you, the kind of community that this industry needs requires more resources (yeah, that's code for money) than the current business model permits.

We live in this crazy new world that throws old rules over for new rules without a passing thought. Old rules in the book biz were top down, you told me what I wanted to read. Now I'm telling you what I want to read—I want dialogue with authors, booksellers (really, I wish  more booksellers were working together to, I don't know, create consortiums of passion for books), publishers, everybody.

Community only works if everyone contributes. For this first decade and a half of what is our online revolution, readers, especially, have brought the passion and the innovation while the publishers have remained on the sidelines. But if I'm building my half of the bridge and you're waiting for marketing to devise a project plan, then I have other worlds to explore. If we don't want to talk about the publishing industry in the past tense, then the publishing industry needs to change how it relates to books and readers.

I am not 100% sure of how one goes about building a perfect reading community online (and offline, because it ain't about one medium), but I do know that leaving it up to the readers and authors isn't enough. We need serious industry investment into building serious community. Serious communities require sustained involvement, or if not sustained, then a loom big enough to handle the warps and wefts of individual involvement.

There are communities out there—Shelfari, LibraryThing, Goodreads, among others—and it's a joy to see how these groups are growing and changing. How word spreads from one reader to the next about tools and resources and fun. Like so much of what is happening online when it comes to books, these communities thrive despite the publishing industry. Imagine the possibilities if the industry side of the business threw as much passion into these communities as readers do.

When it comes to building a community of book people, so much of the burden is placed on those who read books (also known as consumers). Maybe once the professionals were able to remain up on the hill, above the community, living off the labor of those on the street. If that time ever existed, it's over now. If the publishing industry doesn't invest in the reading community in a serious, meaningful, sincere manner now, then maybe, like newspapers, the publishing industry as we know it will cease to exist.

Like I said, I'm not worried about the future of the novel. Story will survive. It will thrive. But the industry, the thing we know as publishing? It has to join the community or be cast off into the wilderness.

Or maybe I should just say this: I like to talk about books. Don't you, too?

Posted by: Kassia Krozser

While I am a proud elitist, I am not a literary snob. As I said last time, it's story that moves me, and if I let myself be limited by books I "should" read or authors who pass some sort of weird smell test, then I'm missing out on parts of the entire reading experience. I don't want to do that, and it perplexes me when other people do.

Don't they know that it's a great big world out there? There is no right way to read. It's so important to remember that.

For years now, I've hated on the Los Angeles Times Book Review (and to a certain degree the New York Times) because I see that my hometown paper simply refuses to acknowledge the diversity that is Los Angeles. The LATBR, largely a reflection of the editor, became a pastiche of California history, Hollywood history, obscure biography, and a smattering of mostly literary fiction.

You could argue that these topics are all worthy of reading and reviewing, but I would argue that these topics lead to the state of the LATBR today: it simply isn't valued by a large enough segment of Los Angeles's reading population. Even before it became the flipside half of the opinion section—making it that much harder to find in morass of ads and special inserts—the LATBR was locals only, in the worst possible sense of the term.

While good writers graced the pages, the overall tone was, shall we say?, stultifying. Maybe it was the subject matter, maybe it was the editorial tone, but there wasn't a sense that reading is fun, books are fun, and we shouldn't have to waste our lives slogging through words that simply don't move us emotionally. Most egregiously, the LATBR failed to understand that readers cross the literary plains with ease—there was no reaching across reading cultures, no real attempt to bring the science fiction reader into a different, but equally speculative type of fiction. No "hey, if you like this, you might like this, too."

Newspapers have absolutely no obligation to cover books, especially when books don't pay the bills. Of course, bills are paid in different ways, and if the book review were valuable to the people of Los Angeles, it would be much harder for the powers-that-be (powers that, I am convinced, have no business running a newspaper) to cut and trim and destroy the LATBR. I don't think it's too harsh to suggest that the editorial staff of the LATBR has a whole lot of culpability when it comes to the state of the book review.

My guess is they don't see it that way. During the past year or so, as more book review sections were cut and eliminated, I noted a lot of hand-wringing, but not a lot of proactive action. "We must save the book review!" they cried, but nobody offered solid, practical plans, a smart course of action. There was a sense of entitlement in some of the discussion, a sense that book reviews are "good for us" and must therefore exist in the print edition of a newspaper.

Like millions of people—more than a few of whom are American—I regularly read the book coverage at the Guardian while no longer bothering the sift through the wasted paper to find the LATBR (and, honestly, sometimes I'd just forget that it was upside-down and backwards from the opinion section). I get what I want from our friends across the pond: lively book coverage, diverse opinion, and passion for reading, writing, and publishing.

Book reviews are somewhat tricky, you see. Some people don't want to possess too much information, so they only read for general gist. Others prefer to read the review after they've read the book because that's where the review is most helpful: comparing and contrasting views and thoughts. And there are those who equate "review" with "analysis", looking for more than a review when they encounter discussion about a particular book.

I think the newspaper book review section killed itself, but maybe that's a good thing. Maybe the model was tired and at the end of its natural life, especially in this age of community and cross-border interaction. Maybe the book review section had to die to give rise to something bigger, better, and, yes, more inclusive: a true literary community. A community that crosses boundaries and lines and social strata. A community that doesn't exist on a publishing timetable. A community that facilitates face-to-face community as much as it does online debate.

A community that loves books—from the moment fingers hit the keyboard (or ink hits the paper) to the moment the reader closes the last page (or turns off the Kindle).

Posted by: Kassia Krozser

My hunt for a web writer continues. I’ve been knocking on doors, sending out emails, calling friends, pitching hard. I’ve gotten one writer lined up, but I’m looking for one more.

Here’s the idea:

I want to publish a Wovel, or web novel. The concept is to allow readers to participate in the formation of the plot arc, while leaving the writing, characterization, setting, description, and problem solving up to the author.  

Here’s how the Wovel works: The author posts an installment every week, say every Monday. Every post ends with a plot branch point. For example: the heroine, chased by zombies, reaches her car. The car a) starts, b) does not start. The readers get to decide. Every installment is between 1,000 and 3,000 words: long enough to get somewhere, but short enough to read Monday morning in your cubicle at work.

The post would go up on Monday, voting would be open until Wednesday, the writer would work on a draft until Friday, I would edit it, turn it around for final correx on Saturday, to repost it Sunday night.

Sound like a magazine or newspaper schedule?

It is. And that’s one of it’s strong points.

We wouldn’t be asking the readers to read fifteen or twenty pages of text. We’d be asking them to read short, and then vote. It could work out magically.

To my knowledge, this structure for writing on the web has never been tried before. There have been other variations, and each has had its own failings. Remember Steven King's much-publicized e-book The Plant? He kept it up for six chapters, before bowing out, saying that too many readers had jumped ship. The Wovel form, by contrast, gives the readers a stake in the book, providing them a reason to come back for more.

I’m incredibly excited by this idea. As with everything on the web, though, it takes a certain slantwise look to understand how it would work, and what the practical benefit would be.

For the author, the benefit would be a pure and simple readership build. The principle is that the more people read, the more people want to buy it. Interest equals monetization. It’s the same principle behind publishing for pittance in quarterlies.  

The author would come out of the Wovel term with a workable manuscript for possible reprint in the traditional book form. Some authors and agents say that publishers won’t want a manuscript that’s been online already. It seems to me, however, that the growing trend of print publishing blogs has well paved the way for a second print life for a Wovel. In fact, I would think that the print life would equal the online life, the two would build off each other. Heard of how well the Radiohead album In Rainbows is doing, despite being offered free online? What about the book Julie and Julia? It sold more than 150,000 in trade and cloth, and it was based off a blog.

For the publisher (Underland), the benefits would be to drive traffic to my site, to increase interest in my books, and to build my stable of authors. It’s a no-brainer for me, if the author and I can make it good, and if the readers keep coming back for more.

There’s a certain amount of experimentation that goes with this online territory. I don’t yet know what will happen with the Wovel, and there’s a possibility it will fall flat on its head. What do you think? Good idea? Bad idea? Scary idea? Interested in hearing more? I’m still working on my web site. I have a holding page up there now with an email capture. Sign up, and I’ll send you news as it comes. Underland Press is online at www.underlandpress.com. Or email me directly. I’m at victoria@underlandpress.com.

Next week is my last week as a guest blogger for ForeWord. I’m planning on announcing my first-year title list, plus announcing who my Wovel writer will be…

Posted by: Victoria Blake

This week, a “close friend” of O.J. Simpson offered Kunati—a publisher focused on “controversial and provocative books”—a tell-all book project: “O.J. told me that I was the only man he was comfortable enough to talk openly with. Web of Controversy will remove the public facade of O.J. Simpson.” Nice friend. More O.J. controversy. Will it sell? Almost certainly.

Condemning Controversy?

Why are readers receptive to controversy? Judging from a report I received this week—the Library Open Access report “Tracking Challenges in Libraries: 2007 Results”—the opposite is true. Patrons are vocal in condemning anything notorious or contentious. It seems that some library patrons would bring back book-burning. So, why do Kunati’s provocative books sell so well? Why do controversial books such as The Da Vinci Code become bestsellers? How is it that publishers can turn controversy into bestsellers and provocation into opportunity when some readers seem vocally in favor of censorship?

Violence, Racism and Promoting Witchcraft

The easy answer seems to be the power of the silent majority—enlightened readers—voting for freedom and fun with their wallets. Librarians, publishers and booksellers continue to offer these books despite a vocal minority. Among the condemned titles from library patrons in the “Challenges” report were: Oliver Twist (for violence), Brer Rabbit and Tar Baby Girl (for racism), and—of course—Philip Pullman’s Golden Compass for religious viewpoints. I recall Harry Potter being on a previous list for “promoting witchcraft.” The list of 36 “patron condemned” books in the 2007 list included my favorite classics, making me wonder if this is indeed a 2007 report. Fortunately, the librarians—stewards of free thought—denied all requests to “burn” or remove books.

What’s so Controversial?

A quick analysis of this most entertaining report from librarians shows the most common reasons for requests to “pull” books off library shelves, in order of prominence, were: homosexuality, religious viewpoint, sexually explicit language, violence, offensive language. Thank goodness for librarians, otherwise all of my own novels would be burned:

• The Game: let’s see, explicit violence, offensive language—it is a thriller, after all

• The Last Troubadour: ah, religious viewpoint for its portrayal of the Cathars as heroes and the Inquisition as evil?

• MADicine: oh, probably everything on the no-no list.

I suppose I’d be in good company with nearly all of Kunati’s popular books—including a Pulitzer Prize-winning author and a NY Times bestseller. Not to mention the rest of the “challenges” list: Exit to Eden, The Monkey King, Perks of Being a Wallflower, Rainbow Boys, Fly on the Wall, and the entire religion-based bestselling Left Behind series.

Steve Jobs says, “No One Reads Anymore.”

It seems that Apple’s Steve Jobs believes “people don’t read anymore.” The computer guru declared in his keynote at MacWorld 2007 that Amazon’s new e-ink reader was “dead on arrival” with a sweeping, and inaccurate, statistic: “It doesn’t matter how good or bad the product is, the fact is that people don’t read anymore. Forty percent of the people in the U.S. read one book or less last year.” Good to know, Steve. I guess Job’s forty percent only read controversial books?

According to a landmark study of 10,800 Americans by Persona Corp in 2007: 30.6% “Can’t live without books”; 23.4% “LOVE books”; 20.9% “Read regularly”—totaling 74.9% of all Americans. I guess it depends on whether you make phone gadgets or publish books which survey you trust, although a quick look at actual book sales indicates Persona’s study is closer to the right number.

Book Sales Over 36 Billion Net in 2007

Net revenues on book sales, according to The Book Standard, were up another billion dollars to $35.69 billion net sales in 2006 and another 1% up in 2007. After removing the 162 million in sales, which are exports, this translates into approximately billions of books sold in a nation of three hundred million. Even a rough averaging works out as every man woman and child in America reading at least 12 books each. Clearly, Steve Jobs has some research to do. And Amazon’s out to prove Steve wrong, putting all their sizable marketing muscle behind the Kindle, a device that, by all accounts, might become the iPod of e-books.

Librarians and Publishers Do It For Love

Contrary to the doom and gloom scenarios often painted in the trade news, books are not only alive and well and flourishing (sales continue to go up, and contrary to Steve Jobs, we’re reading books) but the trade remains an important champion of free thought and free will. Is there anything more important to a free nation of free people? I don’t think so.

So next time you visit your public library, don’t forget to shake your librarian’s hand and say “thank you.” Independent booksellers and small press publishers—who publish and sell books for love, not profit—equally deserve the support of free-thinkers everywhere. I’ll go one step further, at risk of offending my beloved indy booksellers—bravo to Amazon, for ignoring the e-book’s checkered history and coming out with the Kindle. We may be a fragmented industry, but we come together for freedom—and we do it for love.

Posted by: Derek Armstrong

Reading is a technology, Like any technology, its life span is a function of its usefulness. Usefulness however is one of those things that change over time. How many of you can wield a sword or ride a horse… both staples of the educated person (usually male) only a couple of centuries ago?

The inscribing of symbolic representations of language on stones, papyrus, vellum paper, or a screen, has proved useful -- and with the printing press explosively diffused among human beings -- over the last 6,000 years since the Summarians created an alphabet and inscribed it on their famous mud tablets. However, it’s not the only way to go. 3,000 years ago, in Athens and other Greek cities around the Mediterranean, the philosophical pillars of the western world were set in place through a primarily oral tradition. Students (usually male) learned through dialogue (as in Plato’s), and through learning by heart the musical rhyming poems of Homer, and an avid public awaited the plays of Sophocles, et. al.

And if recent scholarship is to be believed, this was not the dawn of history. The history of homo sapiens stretches back many tens of thousands of years. According to these professors, there is no ‘pre-history.’ It ‘s all history, all the time. So reading is a relative new comer.

Yet once again, as if to celebrate the year’s conclusion, comes the now familiar article about the death of reading: “The science of reading and it’s decline,” by Caleb Crain, The New Yorker, December 24&31, 2007, citing an impressive range of apparently scientific statistics about the sad decline of reading among Americans of all ages.

Trying to keep a technology alive as its utility fades is sentimental at best. Don’t get me wrong. I am immersively involved with dozens of books and articles, and web pages every month. Reading is the primary way I interact with the world. But, I am not wringing my hands.

Reading, I believe, is not the issue here. Reading is a surrogate, a stand-in for the question of “culture.” The question really being asked: is our culture being debased (like coins) because of the decline in reading? Are we becoming a nation of dummies, political imbeciles, and brutes as indicated by the decline of reading? Unfortunately, those traits are part of human nature for all of its tens of thousands of years.

I think the real issue is the following: if, or as, reading declines, what other technologies will take its place for helping human being understand themselves and the world around them (or whatever’s left of it)? Maybe the theatre will be reborn. Maybe, along with Queen Elizabeth II’s Xmas message, Youtube will develop into the equivalent of the classic (pre-reading) Greek Plays, Maybe the technology of motion pictures will become so inexpensive and diffused that there will be 150,000 new movies a year. Maybe once the ravages of climate change stabilize, we’ll go back to cave painting. Stay tuned. It will be interesting.

Posted by: Jim Lichtenberg