You know what’s never, ever happened to me as a transmedia writer? Rejection! Nope, I’ve never, ever received a transmedia rejection letter. That’s because there is no gatekeeper for the internet. You wanna tell a story on Twitter, set yourself up an account and let that bad boy rip. Write up a script, grab a video camera, and get that fucker shot and up on YouTube your own self.

-Andrea Phillips, Transmedia Writers Have More Fun

I’ve said often that publishers are effectively similar to venture capitalists (though rarely given credit as such in the “fail faster” meme), and the confirmation of Facebook’s move into location-based services and acquisition and planned shutdown of Hot Potato got me thinking about that, and what it means for up and coming writers, for whom many of the old rules of traditional publishing no longer apply.

Writers basically have two choices: they can build enough of a platform to entice an acquisition, or build one that’s bigger than just books and enables their long-term independence. (And by independence, I mean making a sustainable living, not just self-publishing your book via Amazon or Lulu or Smashwords and declaring yourself an “indie”.)

Similar to work-for-hire vs. creator-owned, it’s evolving into the difference between being a writer and creator. In the digital era, writers sell stories, while creators build storyworlds.

The former is a transaction-based existence focused on the traditional publication of books or articles, with everything else viewed as ancillary. The latter is an approach that sees traditional publishing as just one of many ways via which a storyworld — your fictional universe — can be experienced, and focuses on your ability to reach and engage with readers across a variety of channels.

Neither path is necessarily “better” — there will always be a need for transactional writers [though their value is steadily dropping as "content" itself has been steadily devalued in the Web 2.0 world; don't get me started] — but there’s evidence that creators will have more control over their futures as the industry evolves. As new formats, media and devices come along, creators with well-conceived platforms will be better positioned to make the most of them.

Also, as Andrea noted, transmedia writers (aka creators) have more fun!

Genre writers, in particular, are ideal creators as their work is especially conducive to transmedia development thanks to a tendency toward serial storytelling, archetypal characters and imagined worlds. Non-fiction writers can build transmedia experiences around their particular expertise, too, especially if it’s in an area where things are constantly changing or continuing education is a requirement. (It’s every social media guru’s wet dream!)

In the comics world, where transmedia has been a way of life for many years, there are numerous examples of the difference between writers and creators. Marvel and DC have always employed bullpens of work-for-hire writers to spin new (or, in some cases, rehashed) stories featuring their most popular intellectual properties characters, some of whom have also found success with their creator-owned projects, like Frank Miller’s SIN CITY and Robert Kirkman’s WALKING DEAD.

Outside of the Big Two Bullpens, Brian Lee O’Malley’s SCOTT PILGRIM is another creator-owned comic that’s gone beyond the book, while Rich Burlew’s webcomic, The Order of the Stick, has blossomed into a mini-transmedia empire that includes books, games and T-shirts. (OOTS totally screams WiiWare RPG! Somebody needs to make it happen.)

With so many new opportunities for writers to tell stories and reach and engage with (and sell to) their readers directly, why would you ever want to limit yourself to just writing and publishing a book?

[NOTE: This post was inspired by, and contains excerpts from, my article "Futurama" (Writer's Digest, Sept 2010), which poses 10 questions all writers should be thinking about as they contemplate the future of publishing and their place in it.]

The above tweet led to a fun interview over the at the Book View Cafe blog, “Weird and Wonderful: Digital Book World and Guy LeCharles Gonzalez,” with author Sue Lange asking me some interesting questions that really made me think hard to solidify some of my ideas about the “Future of Publishing” and what it means for authors and publishers.

There’s a lot of fluff and blather right now that makes it sound like eBooks are a magic bullet and simply uploading your book to Amazon makes you an independent author.

Most of that fluff and blather is coming from new intermediaries who take a smaller cut than traditional publishers, while putting your eBook on a virtual shelf where no one who doesn’t already know it exists will ever find it. And, of course, some of them will also upsell you on services to help you market your eBook and increase sales, for which they’ll get their cut.

In a lot of ways, it’s basically Vanity Publishing, in a shiny 2.0 coat.

I also explain a few things about Digital Book World, make the argument “that marketing is, first and foremost, a publisher’s responsibility,” and talk a bit about my own writing and how it has evolved over the years.

Check it out, leave a comment, and also check out Book View Cafe itself, one of the more intriguing authors’ cooperatives to spring up recently, co-founded by acclaimed sci-fi author, Ursula K. Le Guin.

Their steampunk e-anthology, The Shadow Conspiracy, was my first Kindle read, and my first go-round with “traditional” steampunk after falling for the genre via Cherie Priest’s excellent Boneshaker. I’ve just started reading another e-anthology of theirs, Rocket Boy and the Geek Girls, this time on the Kindle for iPad, and as much as I’m a fan of their business model, I’m even more excited about the opportunities low-cost eBooks present for reviving anthologies as a way to introduce readers to new authors and genres.

The future is bright, at least for those willing to experiment and look beyond the status quo!

The weakness of “It’s all a dream” — why we hate that, why we feel cheated when narratively anything is revealed to be all a dream — is that you’ve just asked me to spend so much time and emotional capital investing in the stakes of this, and you’ve now swept it away with the most anti-narrative structuralism that doesn’t have anything to substitute in its place. It’s laughing at you for even taking it seriously. You don’t want to feel like a victim of the narrative, and I don’t think Christopher Nolan would do that.

Inception’s Dileep Rao Answers All Your Questions About Inception

Nuanced, brainy and thought-provoking, Christopher Nolan’s provocative sci-fi masterpiece (yeah, I said it) isn’t your typical formulaic summer blockbuster. Even its car chases, gun fights, explosions and special effects wizardry exist on a whole ‘nother level, raised by the sheer audacity of Nolan’s demanding that moviegoers sit still, pay close attention and think hard about what they’re seeing for 2.5 hours rather than be spoon-fed the usual red/blue pablum Hollywood spews out like clockwork from their “me, too” factories.

There’s no filler, no empty calories, no short cuts, no opportune pee breaks; Nolan packs something worthwhile into every second of screen time, and you blink at your own risk. It’s an action movie for intelligent adults who are tired of being treated like teenagers, and it will stick with you long after, whether you loved it or not.

It’s also a call-to-action of sorts for writers and publishers. Or could be, if they’re listening.

“I wanted to do this for a very long time; it’s something I’ve thought about off and on since I was about 16,” Nolan said during a break in shooting last summer. “I wrote the first draft of this script seven or eight years ago, but it goes back much further, this idea of approaching dream and the dream life as another state of reality.”

Much like Obama’s ambitious presidential campaign two years ago, Nolan refused to dumb down his films, and while Inception isn’t perfect, it comes pretty damn close, and in the context of the past decade-plus of movies, when Pixar’s animated blockbusters have demonstrated more originality and creative integrity than most of its live-action counterparts, it’s the perfect film to define The Obama Era.

Inception is as much a philosophical reflection of the complicated times we live in as Avatar’s ham-fisted, CGI allegory was of the narrow-minded Bush Years we’re still recovering from (remember “freedom fries”?), and it is a far superior film because of that. It probably won’t make a bazillion dollars (I’m guessing $210-$225m) like Avatar did, but its successful opening weekend and excellent word-of-mouth suggests there’s a market for intelligent speculative fiction on the big screen…and, by extension, perhaps on the bookshelves as well.

I haven’t read The Passage yet, but many reviews suggest it might be the Inception of Summer books, an exception to the standard forgettable fluff that typically defines the season for all forms of entertainment. The hype around that book is similar to that for Inception, and in relative terms, so is its marketing. I rarely read hardcovers, and eBooks still don’t quite work for me, but I’m considering both because it feels like a book I HAVE to read.

Having recently read (and thoroughly enjoyed) Finch and The Black Minutes, two books I stumbled across via social recommendations and old-fashioned serendipity, respectively, it’s clear that, contrary to popular memes, writers are still writing complex, challenging work, and publishers are still publishing them, in genres often negatively defined by formula and stereotypes, but so few get the kind of marketing push both Inception and The Passage have enjoyed.

Of course, Christopher Nolan’s resume earned him the right to make a smart summer blockbuster with a $160 million budget, and the marketing muscle that goes behind that kind of investment.

Justin Cronin’s resume isn’t nearly so impressive, though.

Says Kristin Fassler, deputy director of marketing at Random House, “Our advertising strategy is modeled after a movie campaign, with phone kiosks and billboards in major markets and banner ads on highly trafficked entertainment Web sites.”

It all amounts to an unprecedented amount of media — and money — for a local university professor.

Stephen King, billboards, games, all part of the marketing push for Rice prof Justin Cronin’s The Passage

The lessons?

• Cronin attributes his current success to creative integrity: ”I simply wrote the book I wanted to write, the one that wanted to be written.”
• Christopher Nolan’s career to-date is a lesson in creative integrity, and Inception is just one thrilling stop along the road less traveled.
• And no matter your political leanings, the level of creative integrity Obama brought to his presidential campaign is crystal clear.

“Don’t be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.”

Instead of worrying about the latest trends and what’s on the bestseller list this week, writers should focus on telling the stories they want to tell. And publishers should focus on connecting those stories to the readers who will appreciate them, via every available channel, not simply hoping for intermediaries and serendipity to do their jobs for them.

And, finally, readers who appreciate such challenging work should step up and spread the word about their favorites, at every possible opportunity, rather than waste energy bemoaning the faults of lesser works. Review your favorite books on blogs and social networking sites; tweet recommendations via #fridayreads; give copies of your favorite books as gifts; write letters and send emails to publishers of books you’ve enjoyed and tell them you want more!

Money talks, bullshit walks, and in the age of social media, passionate readers can amplify their actions in ways previously unimagined.

“Yes. We. Can.”

“A man practices the art of adventure when he breaks the chain of routine and renews his life through reading new books, traveling to new places, making new friends, taking up new hobbies and adopting new viewpoints”

Wilfred Peterson (via dhammza)

At the beginning of the year I made several resolutions, one of which I was reasonably sure I’d be able to stick to since it simply involved reading and I’ve always been an avid reader. It was resolution-worthy, though, because I haven’t been reading nearly as much as I used to over the past few years, for a number of reasons, mostly work-related.

My intention was to go both genre- and format-hopping — one print, one eBook — and write reviews for whatever I read, but to-date I’ve only read one eBook, the entertaining steampunk anthology, The Shadow Conspiracy, and despite having downloaded several free eBooks and samples on the iPad’s major ereading apps, I’ve yet to read another.

Despite the inexplicable lure of the $149 WiFi-only Nook, for now, when it comes to long-form reading, I’m still a hardcore print guy.

That said, I’ve read several really good books so far this year, the most recent of which, The Black Minutes, I came across the old fashioned way, browsing the shelves of a bookstore, in this case, the new Books & Books in Westhampton Beach. The colorful spine caught my eye first, while the great cover and intriguing jacket copy closed the sale. Blurbs don’t do much for me, and Junot Diaz’ is a bit over the top, but the review excerpts on the back cover all rang true, especially El Pais‘ specific recommendation to “those who enjoy impossible missions and quixotic adventures.”

Calling Martin Solares’ debut novel a “quixotic adventure” is an understatement; it features a compelling cast of colorful characters and his loose, almost stream-of-consciousness style reminded me a bit of Richard Price’s excellent Lush Life. I’m not sure if it’s a real genre, but halfway through I began referring to it as Tropical Noir, though Solares’ emphasis on vivid characters and imagery over plot makes it all feel more literary than you’d typically expect from noir.

At 433 pages, it’s a surprisingly breezy read that’s easy to get lost in for long stretches (I have the sunburn to prove it!), and while Solares nearly drops the ball at the end with an abrupt conclusion that forced me to backtrack — rereading the last 40 pages, skimming the Cast of Characters and several early chapters — the whole was as satisfying as its various parts. I’m pretty sure it’s the first modern work of translation I’ve ever read, and it made for an intriguing transition from the book I finished right before it…

Finch, by Jeff Vandermeer, is a bizarre, brutal mix of noir and fantasy that hits all the right notes and leaves you breathless, wanting more. It might also be one of the weirdest novels I’ve ever read.

Described in its cover blurb as “fungal noir” by Richard K. Morgan, it’s the kind of book I enjoyed reading but would be hard-pressed to explain why. Instead, I’ll direct you to Will Hindmarch’s review which  initially put the book on my radar and does a far better job of expressing my thoughts on it than I could:

I was so sure I had the case figured out, except that I didn’t trust Ambergris — VanderMeer’s city is a cruel and many-faced thing. I wasn’t sure if the mystery would be more literary or more fantasy, and I knew that solving the mystery wouldn’t end the story. But I had no idea how big the book would end up making the truth. Finch is no detective yarn, no episode in an imagined police series. It’s a big story seen from over the shoulder of a man living as a detective, a man who reminds us as he reminds himself, I am not a detective.

The Black Minutes and Finch, though absolutely nothing alike, share similar fundamental traits and reading them back-to-back made me appreciate both a bit more for their respective authors’ ability to take time-worn tropes and turn them into fresh, original stories that stand on their own merits. Both also offer strong arguments for the power of serendipity and word of mouth, as I’d have been unlikely to come across either if I only depended on Bestseller Lists and Amazon’s algorithms.

Other books I’ve read recently, as reviewed briefly on Goodreads and/or Glue:

Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler

Thoughtful, thought-provoking, and still relevant and believable nearly 20 years after it was first published, Parable of the Sower is speculative fiction at its best. Butler delivers a classic that’s part coming-of-age tale, part alternative-future-historical fiction, all excellent, compelling storytelling. READ IT!

The Anubis Gates by Tim Powers

The first 2/3rds are a wonderful roller coaster of intriguing characters, clever dialogue and plot twists, but the final third nearly comes off the rails under the weight of its intricate time-travel underpinnings. Powers mostly pulls off a satisfying conclusion, staggering across the finish line, but it’s not quite as compelling as it could have been.

The Worlds of Dungeons & Dragons Volume 1 by Various

The Eberron story is the best of the three, though I am a bit biased in not being a fan of the whiny, sanctimonious Drizzt nor having any interest in the Dragonlance setting. Eberron’s mix of sword & sorcery and steampunk has always intrigued me, and the short here is a nice appetizer.

Incognegro by Mat Johnson and Wareen Pleece

A clever, brutal “graphic mystery” set in one of America’s ugliest periods, it simultaneously entertains and disturbs.

Fables Vol. 13: The Great Fables Crossover

Disappointing to have Jack return and hijack the series just as a new storyline was starting up. Should have been published as a Jack of Fables TPB.

YOU ARE NOT A GADGET by Jaron Lanier

YOU ARE NOT A GADGET is the 21st Century’s AMUSING OURSELVES TO DEATH, shining a bright light on the dark side of Web 2.0, “open culture” and the dehumanizing effects of technology for technology’s sake. Jaron Lanier is a thought-provoking genius and his manifesto is a must-read, especially for my digitally minded publishing colleagues.

Next on my reading list are Ella Minnow Pea and Zeitoun.

What have you read recently that was really good?

And now blogging is — and very shortly became — something people do do because they are ambitious.

-Lizzie Skurnick

When all is said and done, one of my personal highlights from 2010 will undoubtedly be the “Why Keep Blogging?” panel I participated on at SXSW, partly because it was a great session that was very well received, and partly because it introduced me to Lizzie Skurnick, of whom I am now a complete and total fanboy.

The quote above is from a post that represents almost everything I love about the whipsmart and outspoken Skurnick distilled into one wonderfully compelling rant, and it’s a must-read, if only peripherally related to the rest of this post, which is mainly about social media, “platforms” and an article I wrote for the September 2010 issue of Writer’s Digest on 10 questions writers should be asking themselves about the future of publishing.

One of those questions is, “What else am I going to do with MY platform?”

You’re blogging; you’ve amassed a decent number of fans and followers on Facebook/Twitter; you even have a book deal (or for my DIY friends, a formatted book and/or eBook).

Now what?

[Apologies in advance, but this post rambles!]

It’s been a while since I ranted about social media gurus and the “Blogs! Facebook! Twitter! GET ON IT!” mentality that most of publishing is still annoyingly mired in. It’s partly because I’m bored by the topic, and partly because I think the backlash finally started to set in late last year and not as many people are blindly drinking the Kool-Aid any more.

Or maybe they are and I’ve moved on? (Sadly, I know many still are.)

One thing’s clear, though: writers are being encouraged expected to be their own marketing and PR departments nowadays, building an audience BEFORE even thinking about a traditional publishing deal, and arguably needing one in order to have any real hope of DIY success. Sure, anyone can sell eBooks via Kindle just by uploading them with a decent cover and compelling description, but like blogs, the competition for attention is only going to increase, and the early adopter edge is fading fast.

I am not saying that it is a bad or dishonest thing to try to sell your work. It is not. What I am saying is that I am tired of the rush to commodify everything, to turn everything into products, including people. I don’t want a brand, because a brand limits me. A brand says I will churn out the same thing over and over. Which I won’t, because I am weird.

-Maureen Johnson

I’m not sure I have a “brand” these days, but I’m guessing depending on when, where and how you know me, your opinion might differ. eg: This site’s URL has been loudpoet.com for ages, but in a lot of ways, I haven’t been that guy in a long time; loud, perhaps, but poet? Meh.

And my “Chief Executive Optimist” moniker is as much aspirational as it is a burden some days, because there are times where I want to do nothing more than yell, “YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!!!” louder than the least informed of the Twitterati.

When Johnson’s “Manifesto” made the rounds on Twitter last week, I noted it and wholeheartedly agreed with her, but there was a “duh” factor that left me completely frustrated. It was amplified today upon reading an article about The Awl being notable for focusing on good writing over “SEO tricks”.

What kind of Bizarro World do we live in that what should be the norm — “Don’t be a dick!” and “Good writing attracts good readers.” — is the notable exception?

I’m not trying to provide a house for everyone. I’m not running a department store. I’m running a boutique. And yes, I’m a snob. On the internet.

-Ta-Nehisi Coates

I love Coates’ take (on almost everything, actually), and despite the fact that he’s blogging for The Atlantic, he and Skurnick are pretty much on the same page, coming from a passionate point-of-view more than an “ambitious” one. They blog to connect with others, not to strategically engage readers in order to upsell them on their latest book.

For the record, I’m a terrible blogger, at least in the context of what blogging is generally understood to be today — an SEO-driven, page view-churning, advertising magnet, either of one’s own products and services or someone else’s. I can’t get down with that approach, personally or professionally, and can’t encourage authors to go that route, either, unless they’re angling for a “Me, too!” social media book deal and 15 minutes of fame on the Twitter conference circuit.

Good luck unseating Godin and Brogan there, though, both of whom it seems have already sensed the shifting winds and have tweaked their own approaches accordingly.

For everyone else facing the “platform” conundrum, my advice hasn’t wavered a bit from last summer’s take on 1,000 True Fans: “Don’t be a narcissist; follow your passions and always add value; be patient.”

When it stops being fun, take a break and go do something else. Your readers know when you’re going through the motions even before you do.

What do you think?

(No, seriously. That last question wasn’t meant to be snarky. Not this time, at least.)

For transmedia novelists (and publishers) to retain creative control will require more than a repurposing of content. This might give a ‘taste’ of what transmedia can ‘do’, but for it to work on all levels it must be intrinsically built in and not bolted on.

–Alison Norrington, Transmedia Requires New Breed of Writers, Publishers

Ever since I attended the DIY Days Conference back in April, I’ve become obsessed with the idea of “transmedia” and what it means for both publishers and authors. I’ve even slowly been making it a point of focus over at Digital Book World, where I’ve run some insightful articles by some smart people who are also exploring the idea from a publishing perspective.

While writing an article for the September issue of Writer’s Digest about what writers should be thinking about in the future, transmedia kept popping up in a variety of ways, but the most compelling was the simple fact that it potentially changes the way some writers will go about getting published, especially novelists. Those focused only on getting a book deal (and haggling over eBook royalty percentages) will continue to pursue agents and editors, living a transactional existence while cranking out their 1-2 books/year and struggling with the concept of “platform”.

Savvier writers, though, will realize the full potential of the worlds they’re creating, and look beyond traditional publishing contracts for partnerships that allow them to fully exploit their creations.

Genre fiction is the most obvious area where transmedia comes into play, with its tendency towards serial storytelling, archetypal characters and underlying world-building that offers numerous branches to explore in a variety of mediums beyond the traditional novel, including short stories and anthologies, graphic novels, movies and TV, video games, interactive apps and websites, merchandise, etc.

The Star Wars Expanded Universe is arguably the Holy Grail for any aspiring transmedia novelist, and while a lot of the opportunities either involve starting from a movie-centric approach or working with “official” partners, usually via licensing deals, one of my favorites is simply letting your fans play in your sandbox.

For all the talk about social media and building “platforms”, one of the most interesting (and sometimes controversial) angles for novelists is embracing “fan fiction.”  One good example I came across was Eric Flint and Baen Books’ The Grantville Gazette, an online publication and a series of anthologies that features short stories and non-fiction set in Flint’s 1632 universe, most of it written by fans.

Another is David Goodwillie’s Roorback.com, which features one of the lead characters from his novel American Subversive as a gossip blogger, with posts “anonymously written by a few Brooklyn bloggers.”

Personally, I’ve always wanted to write stories set in D&D’s Forgotten Realms setting, and would be all over a Grantville Gazette-type opportunity… if they had one! I’d imagine every RPG publisher has an avid group of fans whom, given the outlet, would happily contribute to expanding their worlds, especially if there was the possibility of some type of official recognition/publication.

Same goes for Cherie Priest’s Clockwork Century setting, in which the excellent Boneshaker takes place. Imagine a quarterly magazine and/or annual anthology of short stories and non-fiction based in that setting? I’d be all over that as both a reader and wannabe contributor!

What examples of authors and/or publishers allowing others to contribute to their storyworlds do you know of?

And whose sandbox would you most love to play in yourself?

BEA is North America’s largest gathering of book trade professionals, typically attracting between 20,000 – 30,000 people. Book industry professionals who attend BEA include: booksellers (independent, specialty, and chain); book distributors; marketing and publicity professionals; editors, agents; scouts.  BEA is also attended by assorted film and TV professionals and is covered widely by the media for the attention it brings to upcoming books as well as for the notable authors it attracts to the event itself.

BEA Show Overview

Book Expo America represents a bizarre conundrum for me. Maybe I’m just burned out on publishing conferences, and since I’m not buying or selling books and have never cared about free galleys, it feels less relevant to me personally than some of the other conferences I’ve attended this year.

I don’t know if it’s just too big for me to get a firm grip on, or maybe it’s trying to be too many things to too many people?

This will be my third time attending BEA, and the first time I’m attending more than one day, and by all rights it should feel like Book Nerd Nirvana, akin to how I felt about the first NY Comic-Con (was that REALLY back in 2006?!?!), but in reality, it just feels like three really long days of extra work standing between me and the holiday weekend.Their website is almost as busy and difficult to navigate as the Huffington Post‘s updated spin on GeoCities, and it’s more siloed than the most stereotypical legacy publisher’s marketing plans, making figuring out who I want to see and what I want to attend a ridiculously frustrating process that pretty much guarantees I’ll end up missing more than a few things.

Over at Digital Book World, I posted 5 Intriguing Sessions at BEA 2010 I’m planning to attend, and I’ll also be spending Tuesday morning at IDPF’s Digital Book 2010 while wishing I was at the ABA’s Day of Education instead. I’m probably one of only a handful of people for whom those two events are competing for attention, but my heart will have to lose out to the day job on that one!

One really exciting thing will be webcasting the Digital Book World Roundtable live from the show, thanks to NetGalley hosting us in their booth. I’m still working on the details as this will be the first time we’ll be “on location”, and it could end up being a total disaster, but by Thursday I’ll be running on adrenaline anyway so it should be fun no matter what! If you want to attend or tune in live, details will be posted on Wednesday.

Perhaps most disappointingly, and this isn’t technically BEA’s fault, is that this year’s big BEA Tweetup is happening in Brooklyn, which means I won’t be attending. I met so many people at last year’s event who’ve gone on to become friends and trusted colleagues and I’d love to do it again, but I don’t trek out to Brooklyn to see my best friends on the weekend, never mind on a school night!

If you’re attending BEA this year, let me know and maybe we can sync up. Home base will technically be the F+W Media booth (#4185), but I’ll either be in sessions or walking the show floor most of the time I’m there.

And if there’s a can’t-miss Meetup happening in MANHATTAN on Tuesday or Wednesday, let me know that, too!

The only thing I was fit for was to be a writer, and this notion rested solely on my suspicion that I would never be fit for real work, and that writing didn’t require any.

–Russell Baker

That Baker quote has been on my About Page forever, but I only just recently realized its irony as this blog has once again gone silent for another unreasonably long period as my time and attention have been pulled elsewhere. I’ve had several good ideas and intentions for posts since the last time I blogged here in mid-April,  but they’ve all either ended up over at Digital Book World, or I simply never got around to writing them because, well, writing requires “real work” and Battle for Wesnoth is a better way to unwind at 11pm than attempting to put together a coherent post.

Reading can be “real work” sometimes, too, so I’ve found myself getting back into magazines, comic books and anthologies for their short bursts of escape, unable to commit to a full-length novel. As a result, Bolano’s 2666 mocks me from the bottom of my to-read pile whenever I pick up the latest issue of Monocle, the latest volume of Fables, or the Forgotten Realms anthology Realms of the Dead, from the top of the pile.

Even work you enjoy takes time, and as much as I’d love to be one of those writers who can set aside a specific amount of time each day for writing, I have too many other things on my plate, including… writing.

I forget who I was chatting with a few weeks ago on Twitter, but one day something really obvious clicked into place for me and completely blew up how I saw myself as a writer.

I fell into poetry completely on a lark back in 1997, via poetry slam, and while the form and format really worked for me, I never truly embraced the idea that I was a poet. Even on those rare occasions I take the stage and read old work, it never quite pushes me over the line to want to write new poems. When I started blogging in 2003, it was purely a side thing to keep the wheels turning for that mythical day when I’d have time to do some “real writing”, and not even the 2+ years I wrote and edited for PopCultureShock changed my mind.

“Real writing” meant fiction; ultimately a novel, but even a short story or three would have felt like a step in the right direction.

And yet, the vast majority of my published (and unpublished) writing has been non-fiction, from my high school newspaper days, to magazines and blogs of the past decade. In fact, excepting a handful of college poetry gigs years ago, I’ve been paid far more for my non-fiction work than for my poetry and fiction combined. (Of course, having successfully written so little fiction, including it with poetry, for which I have been paid a pittance, is a bit misleading!) It wasn’t until writing and editing officially became a part of my day job with Digital Book World that I realized maybe I’d been barking up the wrong tree all these years, ignoring the numerous signs along the way that fiction wasn’t necessarily my bag, while non-fiction totally was.

Because most of those non-fiction articles and blogs were related to things I was passionate about, and most of my poetry could be defined as non-fictional narrative verse, they didn’t feel like “real work” and I always looked at them as exceptions to the “real writing” rule.

If I acknowledge all of the non-fiction writing I’ve done, and continue to do, it takes some of the pressure off the goal of one day writing that novel, and that’s better than just being a wannabe writer constantly beating himself up over not getting any writing done.

Right? Right?

Write. No excuses.

Labels aside, having a clear goal to work toward helps keep things in perspective.

Along with embracing my newly recognized non-fictional identity, maybe it’s time to resurrect Zombie Babe, too?

On Wednesday night, I helped organize and participated in Digital Book World’s second 7x20x21 event at the Bowery Poetry Club, and I had an amazing time!

“Return of the Optimists” was co-hosted by the dynamic duo (and two of my publishing partners in crime), Ami Greko and Ryan Chapman, and the other 5 presenters — Nick Felton, Al Katkowsky, Davin Kuntze, Lynne Procope (my a little bit louder co-founder), and Isobella Jade — were all excellent, an eclectic assortment of geeks, writers, and book lovers speaking passionately on everything from data visualization and the wonders of books, to authors not taking no for an answer — and I had the honor of closing the night out.

That’s the video above, and  text of the presentation is below (including the poem, Behind the Music), pretty close to how I delivered it.

[Shout-outs to Denise Berthiaume and Tom Thompson (a fellow poet!) of Verso Digital for co-sponsoring the night with DBW, and to the Bowery Poetry Club, simply for existing.]

Our Bookshelves Are Over-Flowing With Books

My unofficial title at the day job is Chief Executive Optimist for Digital Book World, which is an online and in-person community for people in the business of publishing books. The cynics might refer to that as being similar to being the band leader on the Titanic, but I prefer to think of it as more like the Patrick Henry role during the Revolution: “Give Me Liberty, or Give Me Death!”

There’s no shortage of cynics gleefully proclaiming the death of publishing (and the death of print, in general). Pundits, tech fetishists, and even some bitter writers better known for their bitterness than their writing are riding the “Publishing is DOOMED!” bandwagon, without the slightest glance at who’s in the driver’s seat.

It’s like playing a game of Get a Clue:

“It was Jeff Bezos in the Kitchen with a Kindle!”

“It was Steve Jobs in the Living Room with an iPad!”

“It was Ev and Biz in the Basement with the Twitterz!”

I’m sure it was no coincidence that the iPad was released in time for Easter Weekend, a not-so-subtle nod to Jobs’ hopes that it was the second coming of the iPhone. If you were unfortunate enough to be on Twitter that weekend and have Apple fanatics as friends, their breathless tweets painstakingly tracking every step – “It’s still syncing!” – like they were caught up in the Rapture was absolutely crazy.

But a funny thing happened in one small group of early adopters – the eBook fanatics.

Turned out eBooks on the iPad weren’t all that exciting, especially compared to some of the other cool reading apps like Marvel Comics and ComiXology, or the Disney Toy Story app that really gives a hint of what a full-color enhanced eBook could look like in more creative hands.

When I was a kid, we used to call these fancy apps “software”, and there was no confusing them with books.

Underneath the fancy techie containers is something that doesn’t get nearly enough attention these days – the stories they hold, and the writers who create them.

At its best, I believe publishing is a community service – not a non-profit one, either – and our job is to represent ideas we believe in, and to connect great writers to readers.

Of course, writers typically can’t afford to attend the big ticket conferences that keep the doom-saying pundits and tech fetishists in the limelight, so it’s more profitable to focus on the new shiny, no matter what the downsides might be.

It’s more profitable to devalue the creators of the content that gives their devices a reason to exist.

I bought my wife a Kindle a year and a half ago, when Oprah had her $50 discount going, and while she likes it well enough – whenever she can find a book she actually wants to read available on it – like most avid readers, she’s not ready to disown the printed word. eBooks are additive for her; she reads books she doesn’t necessarily want to own, and if she discovers something really good in e, she likely buys it in print so SHE CAN ACTUALLY OWN IT.

Our bookshelves are over-flowing with books; some we re-read, some we share with friends, some we expect to pass on to our kids, like I recently did with Jeff Smith’s BONE, nine volumes of awesome that even the iPad can’t match. Some, like the first-edition Hardcover of Matt Ruff’s Fool on the Hill, which I tracked down in Ithaca in December, where the book is set, are reminders of stories that had a significant impact on us.

Like a good bookstore, our bookshelves are a curated collection of stories and ideas – some true, some imagined, some a questionable mix of both. Each one of those books say something about who we are, what we believe in, what we cherish.

I’ve always dreamed of owning a bookstore one day, so I’m very biased. I want it to be somewhere away from the City, where books aren’t taken for granted. It will be that fabled “third place” — a place of business but also a place for the community to gather. It will serve coffee, and it might even publish a local newspaper. It will also have an amazing kids section, because contrary to some pundits’ claims, kids do read, and far more than just text messages.

Especially if they have parents who read, too.

My mother claims I learned to read early because it was the only way to get my father’s attention on Sundays when he was buried in the NY Times.

At the Empire State Book Festival this past weekend, Gregory Maguire made a great point:

“There are people and places without our resources, for whom hearing a story can be life-changing.”

That’s sometimes easy to forget when we live in New York City, and we’re talking amongst ourselves on Twitter, or playing around like Captain Picard on our iPads, paying ridiculous mortgages and rents just so we can live at what’s still the center of the publishing industry. The City I grew up in, though, didn’t seem quite as oblivious to the larger world as it does now. There were far more shades of grey here when I was a kid.

Behind the Music
the evolution of dreams

I.

In the 7th grade,
dreaming under the influence of
I want my MTV!
when hip-hop was still for partying
and Hall & Oates ruled the charts
I decided to learn the guitar

12-year old hormones assuring me
this was the perfect way
to get girls.

John Peter agreed.

We agreed on almost everything –
Batman over Superman
LL over Kool Moe D
Robotron over Pac-Man
so when we signed up for strings

we both had visions of
money for nothing
and chicks for free
dancing in our heads.

On the first day of class
we learned to mistrust authority
finding a New York City public education
limited dreams to tradition
left us to choose between
the viola, violin, cello

and bass.

Lacking any MTV reference point
but wanting to retain some shred of cool
jazz unconsciously imprinted on our hybrid genes
we chose the bass.

There were only three in the class
the third claimed by a kid nicknamed cockroach
before the final bell had rung.

We quickly planned our first video
scanned the class for potential co-stars.

II.

In the 7th grade
girls ruled the world
and she was Catherine the Great
in that first-to-develop

breasts-and-hips kind-of-way
leaving young boys goofy
professing their love
with songs they don’t understand.

I wanted to do things with her
I’d only seen in movies
imagined her body leaned against my leg
fingers plucking at her strings

her voice a low chord
whispering my name.

Her name has faded with time
but the memory of that moment
when she held up her hand
-        said she wanted to play the bass, too
stayed with me.

John Peter and I argued
like long-time bandmates
both ready to sacrifice our souls

convinced the reward would be a kiss
…at the least.

For the next two years
we played the cello
side-by-side

third row back
behind the violas
reading Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star
from sheets yellowed with neglect.

Cockroach stood in the back
-        with her
plucking away from memory
a low throb echoing
in our hearts.

III.

Rock star dreams fade
when exposed to the light of day.

Years later
I’d hear someone say
there were more poets in the ghetto
because guitars are expensive
pen and paper, cheap.

I remembered carrying home that cello
pressed against me like an unwanted sibling
on the rush hour 5 through the Bronx
adjustable leg loosened by time
threatening to put out an eye
wishing that my load was
a little bit heavier.

Today, I write poems in low chords
silencing the echoes
pen and paper less default than option
swearing that my children
will never have to trade in their dreams.

[NOTE: The last slide in the presentation includes an excerpt from a poem I wrote last year, "Blue (for India)" , on the 16th day of  NaPoWriMo.]

Between 7x20x21, and the amazing Marketing & Editorial Forum I hosted the next day, surrounded by some of the smartest, passionate publishing pros I know, it’s been quite an inspiring week!

Over 25 years, Apple has earned the privilege of delivering anticipated, personal and relevant messages to their tribe. They can get the word out about a new product without a lot of money because one by one, they’ve signed people up. They didn’t sell 300,000 iPads in one day, they sold them over a few decades.

–“Secrets of the biggest selling launch ever”, Seth Godin

The iPad reviews are in, and whether positive, negative or on the fence loaded with caveats, the most common underlying thread is that Apple has created a device that could eventually change the way we acquire, consume and interact with digital content.

This potential change is important to publishers of all kinds, but particularly to those of books as the eBook experience on the iPad is arguably one of its weakest features.

While iBooks, Kindle and Kobo (the three eBook apps I tested) are all solid readers with varying appeal, replicating the reading experience of a print book via static EPUB files (on a device that weigts twice as much an average book!) is like driving a Porsche to the corner store for a six-pack of Old Milwaukee. While test-driving eBooks on the iPad, I limited myself to free books, samples, and in the case of Kindle, ebooks my wife and I have already purchased for her Gen 1 device (which she loves, BTW, despite the limited inventory of books she actually wants to read), and I wasn’t terribly impressed by any of them.

I also downloaded a variety of other apps, all free, and NPR, Epicurious and Disney’s Toy Story each demonstrated the real potential for delivering a truly engaging, innovative reading experience that leverages the iPad’s strengths and comes close to aligning with Apple’s marketing of it as a “magical and revolutionary” device. The Marvel Comics app (powered by ComiXology, whose multi-publisher inventory is impressive) is also a notable step towards realizing Jim Fallone’s compelling vision for digital comics, and if Graphic.ly delivers on the promise suggested by its private beta, the iPad could truly be a game-changer for comics.

As Eric Freese noted in his iPad review, there is the very real possibility that the higher eBook prices some publishers have fought for, using Apple’s entry into the market as leverage, could backfire on them, and soon:

Next to its screen size and capacity, herein is perhaps the biggest benefit of the iPad as an eReading device ? its ability to purchase and download eBooks from any retailer (assuming Barnes and Noble releases their app soon).

This might actually drive prices down since the iPad enables direct head-to-head competition between eBook retailers.

And therein lies the problem for regular eBooks, and by extension, their traditional publishers.

Why pay $9.99+ for a single eBook, when there are far more compelling apps available for much less money, all based on familiar brands, that take full advantage of the $500+ investment in the device? At $9.99, eBooks are competing with everything from Netflix, which allows you to stream unlimited movies for $8.99/month, to well-known games like Scrabble, Need for Speed, Command and Conquer, and Civilization Revolution, all of which are $9.99 – $14.99.

An interesting, and seemingly unrelated announcement came out this week via Deadline Hollywood that should give everyone in the publishing food chain something to think about:

I’ve learned that a significant All-Boards meeting for the Producers Guild of America took place tonight. Sources tell me that the members voted on a series of amendments that qualify individuals as professional producers. More importantly, for the first time in the guild’s history, they voted on and ratified a new credit — that of the Transmedia Producer — which had been shepherded by such Hollywood names as Mark Gordon, Gael Anne Hurd, Jeff Gomez, Alison Savage, and Chris Pfaff.

This Guild-wide adoption is unprecedented as it will allow executives who expand storylines of franchises onto multiple platforms to receive official credit on these projects as “Transmedia Producers”. These producers develop cross platform storylines on Film, Television, Short Film, Broadband, Publishing, Comics, Animation, and Mobile — and now, they’ll be credited with an official title. I’m told this is a historic move for the PGA because the guild rarely backs new credits. “These amendments demonstrate how the guild supports producers making and changing the game,” a source told me tonight.

The definition of transmedia is up for debate, but the one I prefer focuses on the storyworld first, distribution channels second, with the latter determined via a collaborative process that puts the author’s creative vision at the center. Most so-called transmedia projects are really just cross-media marketing initiatives and/or brand extensions, driven by licensing deals and a parceling out of rights in a manner that often includes loss of creative control by the author. Star Wars is the go-to example of a transmedia property, and while it has definitely evolved into a legitimate one, it didn’t start out that way.

The recognition of “Transmedia Producer” by the PGA is important as it potentially shifts power away from literary agents and publishers whose sole focus is on the book, print or electronic, instead of the underlying story, its creator and the varied platforms now available to storytellers, whether fictional or truth.

If the iPad fulfills its promise of changing the way we interact with digital content, the question of territorial rights for eBooks and the temptation to split eBook rights from print deals could become even thornier as the book becomes just one of a variety of platforms available to authors in a transmedia world, and “Transmedia Producers” become the preferred gatekeepers.

While there are some in the publishing world who appear to have seen this shift coming — including Open Road Integrated Media, Movable Type Literary Group, and Random House — developing new business models to take advantage of cross-media opportunities, can any of them compete with a truly collaborative approach that’s a far more natural fit for film producers?

Where does the book, and the publishing supply chain devoted to it, fit in a transmedia world?

[NOTE: This post was simultaneously published at Digital Book World.]