March 14th, 2013


"...gleaming like blackened sunshine."

Yesterday, I wrote 1,662 words on Red Delicious. After dinner, Kathryn and I began reading The Drowning Girl: A Memoir for the Centipede Press edition. In terms of text, the CP edition won't differ dramatically from the Penguin edition. Other than catching typos and such, I'll be rewriting a scene or two, bits I know now I could have done better. There will be about ten thousand additional words of text added to the "Back Pages" section. Mostly, the CP edition is a chance to present the book as a beautifully, lushly illustrated and designed hardback.

It's very strange and more than a little disconcerting, reading the book again. I haven't looked at it since, probably, March 2012. So, a year.

Speaking of hardbacks, the paper quality used for hardback fiction, and much nonfiction, is becoming ever more abysmal. I'm still buying hardbacks, but I've begun to notice that, often, the paper used for trade paperbacks is of a better quality than that in the hardback edition. I'm talking, of course, about the big NYC, etc. publishers, not small/specialty presses. What's the point in binding toilet paper, much less binding it in hardback? Of course, this is all about keeping cover prices down. But soon I suspect it will no longer be cost effective for publishers to release hardcopy versions of novels. Even shitty hardcopies. So, skip straight to ebooks, and they save the expense of materials and printing and warehousing and shipping. Profits go up. This does not, by the way, mean authors will be paid more; they almost certainly won't be. Publishers only have to point out that they sell ebooks for less than hardcopy books. Regardless, this scares me, this scenario that, to me, seems all too likely. Because I have no other way to make a living, and I won't write ebooks.

Okay, well, that's today's happy thought. I should be working, here on this gloomy, ugly winter day.

Remember when people read LiveJournal?

Glitterses and Pinksome Unicorns,
Aunt Beast

P.S.: Also, I began reading Paolo Bacigalupi's The Drowned Cities.