Plea/Bargain

Little bonus this week, because it's hitting close to home. Some of you may have heard about the Justice Department filing an anti-trust suit against Apple and five US publishers. Others of you may listen to NPR and have heard a quote by one Mark Cooper, director of Consumer Federation of America. I didn't actually hear the quote, but I read it. It disturbed me, just a little. Here's what he said, as per npr.org: "[Amazon] may be a threat to the publishers, but that's only because they're more efficient and they'll deliver books at a lower cost. They're not a threat to the consumer, and that's what's the important point." (Emphasis mine.)

Now, I understand that Mr. Cooper is the director of the Consumer Federation of America, so there's going to be some unavoidable bias. My problem with this quote is it only assumes two parties: publishers and consumers. Unfortunately, there is a third. Need a hint? Look at my bio, and consider who it is writing to you.

That's right: writers. Low prices and piracy are a threat to writers. When we're dealing with cars, with iPods and iPads, with food, water, housing -- most physical objects which inhabit our world, prices are very objective: means of production + cost of production + cost of distribution and shelving = cost to consumer.

Here's the problem with that: publishers are the only ones working for salary or hourly wage, and the only physical object is the book -- which is taken away with e-books. The money a writer receives is entirely dependent on the price of the book. Publishers take the lion's share -- while they need writers to publish, they do handle a crap-ton of the work, between editing (which, sorry self-pubbers, is more than just a spelling and grammar check, which many of us still need), marketing, publishing, and distributing; agents, if the writer went a good route and got an agent, takes another 15% to 20% (I think Josh Bilmes over at brilligblogger.blogspot.com had the actual dollar numbers (roughly) of what a writer brings home on hardback, paperback, and e-book sales. It's not a terrible lot.)

Art across the spectrum is more complicated than cost v. pricing. We can't all just work 40 hours a week, and we can't be guaranteed a salary. We need people to buy books, and to buy books at a price that earns us some amount of money. We aren't owed our passion as a full-time job, and I'm not demanding it. But just remember that it hurts the writers', the painters', the musicians' wallets more than it hurts yours. Just watch the movie Equilibrium to see a world without art. If you want that, by all means, steal the book or demand copies for 99 cents. If you don't, help an author and pay a few bucks more.

See you tomorrow.

Promises of...Prosperity?

I don't know, folks; the more I think about this, the more I'm convinced that Western Christians have had it way too good for way too long. Paul said the cross would seem foolishness; Jesus prayed to God on behalf of the disciples he was leaving behind, lamenting that they would have to stay behind in a fallen and broken world; Jesus promised us persecution: he preached for three years before people couldn't stand it anymore. We expect and demand an entire life free from any serious, hardcore persecution. I don't mean taunting, jeering, and ridiculing; I mean forced silence, threats, and legal action. Maybe even death.

Bordering on Hysteria

You can't turn the pages of Writer's Digest or any other writing magazine, or browse the blogs of writing, without finding legion articles about the changing face of publishing/book-selling. A particular favorite among fear-mongers of the book's "demise" is the collapse of Borders; and a particular favorite among fear-mongers of the publisher's demise is the e-book. Here's my take.

Good Friday: Read

Sorry I missed Writing Wednesday. I'm trying not to make that a habit, but with work, school, a book, and a fiancee, days can really run away from you. I can tell you that some exciting things are developing toward finding an agent/publishing, but I don't want to bring those eggs to market before they hatch, as it were.

But, oddly, as I was laying in bed this morning I was thinking about death. Specifically about knowing when you were going to die. Usually that knowledge comes, at most, months ahead of the occurrence. There's a devotional series about how to live your whole life as if you've only got 30 days to live. I cannot fully apply that, because as I think about writing and think about all I want to write -- there's simply no way to do all that within thirty days. I have to take a more patient position, or I'll drive myself nuts.

But what if we did know when we were going to die? I know there's been movies and TV episodes based on this premise, and it's getting kind of old. Do you think there would be a year that you wouldn't mind living until? Would there be a year that you would mind living until? Depends on health, sometimes, doesn't it. I wouldn't necessarily want to live to 110 if I had chronic hip pain at 70. Maybe there are those who wouldn't mind dying at 50 or 60: they've had a good life, accomplished everything they've wanted to; "let me go" they might say. But of course, I'm not saying it should be that way.

I also wonder how many of us could choose to die. What if we had some internal trigger that -- when we really meant it, not when we were in the throes of teenage angst -- would let us choose the time of our death.?I feel like every time that moment came, we might push it back a little further. "Let me die when I'm 70." We reach 70, and have grandkids who are getting old enough to be fun. "Never mind, let me die when I'm 80." But now the grandkids are nearing graduation. "Give me until 90." Great grandkids are on the way...

So what about knowing when you're going to die, and also choosing that time to die? It is Good Friday, I said so in the title. Jesus knew when he was going to die, and he spoke of it often. But he also chose that time, in not calling legions of angels to prevent his arrest. Now, not many of us fulfill our lives in our death; usually our work during our life is the calling. But it's still something to consider, and something worth considering. And it's not like Jesus chose to slip away quietly, with friends and loved ones around; he chose a painful, excruciating death. I'm not sure [m]any of us could do that. So in this day of remembrance, let's remember to give thanks, too.

See you next week.

Expect to be Expectant

Monday is a Friday schedule. So you get three posts this week! (Maybe!) Two on faith. This one is something that's hitting me a lot from a lot of different places over the last day or two. Maybe it's the season: this weekend, we dwell on the disciples' dashed expectations as we wait expectantly for the rising Christ. He was raised upon the cross, raised from the dead, and raised to the right hand of the Father. And none of it was according to the expectations of those He came to save. Which got me thinking.

A Walk 'Round the Block to Talk

"Let's take a walk," she said, "and talk about this." It wasn't an "oh no" moment in the relationship, at least not between me and her. And it was a lovely day. So we walked around the upper part of town, my fiancee and I, and talked plot and conflict. Conflict should more drive the plot, after all; and plot should at best add to the conflict, not make up the conflict. And, see, when I first sat down to write my novel as an immature writer, I sat down to write a plot. As a maturing writer, I knew I needed conflict. And I've been trying to wrangle a conflict from the plot. Write and tell me how many professional writers think that's a good idea.

Making Disciples

I started thinking a little while back about the posts I do on Fridays about my faith, and the Christian faith. I wanted to make something clear, something I feel very strongly about: and that's about how my views relate to you, the reader.