Bill Lindblad

Let me list for you some of my responsibilities.

I have a full-time job with a utility company, and while that job is staying, the location is moving… and me with it.  Starting in a month, I can expect an additional sixty minutes added to my daily commute (thirty minutes each way.)

I am planning to be married in about three and a half months.  Few preparations for that have begun, but they’re looming.  It also means a lot more time spent being attentive to someone else… happily so, but it’s time lost.

I am hunting for a house, in mind of the aforementioned change in marital status.  More time and worry.

The prior two items require a significant cash influx.  In consideration of that, I have been attempting (with Brobdingnagian efforts from the fiancee) to liquidate significant portions of my stock.  I have recently learned about the relative benefits of a store system on eBay vice the traditional auctions, but I’m not experienced enough to provide good information about that.  The important item is the time expenditure required.

It is the holiday season, and there have been not merely the traditional visit to my parents to arrange but also visits with the fiancee’s parents.

I have a monthly post here at Storyteller’s Unplugged, which I value highly.  I have never missed an opportunity to contribute, and I have attempted to make the contributions worth reading… often a tough task for someone who is not a professional writer.

In recent months, I’ve also been contributing book reviews to a horror ‘zine called The Black Glove.  I review only books which are at least two decades old and attempt to cover both the expected classics and lesser-known works.

This last item was tacked onto the load even while I had all of the other responsibilities to consider.  It has caused me no small level of concern because I want to do a job of which I can be proud.  Simultaneously, it is providing relief and joy.

I love reading.  My love of books is an outgrowth of that, not an isolated occurrence.  Amidst the various other, very real stresses (and the stresses from things I used to do regularly, but which have been lapsing due to other demands; my time on boards like the RLD, Big Adios or Shocklines; answering e-mails) my reading level had dropped away.  By putting myself in a position where I was required to read, I spurred myself back to a level of at least one, typically two novels or collections per week.  It’s not much compared to my reading levels at most points in the past, but it’s more than I’d had in recent months.

There are people and events in all of our lives which demand attention.  Every person, however, who reads this blog shares a love of the written word.  I have learned that, when I’m bogged down by my duties, a little bit of reading isn’t necessarily mere escapism – it can be a reminder of one of the true joys in my life.  I have also found that when I’m in a better mood, that reflects upon the people around me.

I don’t know if this holds true for others, but I expect it does.  So, that’s my roundabout, explanatory way of suggesting that you find a book… nonfiction or fiction, it doesn’t matter… and read it for enjoyment this holiday season.  Hopefully it’ll remind you of why you love reading, too.

If this post seems more disjointed than ones from past months, I beg your forgiveness.  I typically have at least two posts available; as it is, the time is 11:19 PM as I complete this, and I have to be awake at 3AM to fly to meet the parents in New Jersey.

Time waits for no man.  Busy, busy!

… but I’ll have a book with me on the plane.

Welcome to Storytellers Unplugged. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start blogging!

I just got in from a three-day drive from California to Texas.  The entire drive was made in a U-Haul, which meant I was dealing with an unfamiliar vehicle of unaccustomed dimensions.  For this reason, I’m turning in a shorter essay today, covering a variety of points.

1) People are complaining about the trend in horror for publishers to request stories similar to the ones that have recently sold.  This is bothersome, particularly when it results in twenty zombie or werewolf novels hitting the shelves within the span of a few months or when the publishers aren’t buying tales that don’t feature the current hot thing.  That said, it is also nothing new.  Success breeds imitation.  Harken back to the 1970s if you don’t believe me.  After the success of Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist, religious horror – whether demonic possession, satanism, or the Antichrist – began vying with the gothic for the horror paperback shelves.  If it hadn’t been for the advent of Stephen King we might be reading about Debra’s terrible ordeal in her recently-inherited condo or the Devil trying to claim the soul of the local paperboy.

This situation is not exclusive to horror, either.  With the success of the Executioner series, Men’s Adventure was changed from stories of war, sailing, and exploration to vicarious slaughter of criminals.  Suddenly they were everywhere:  The Butcher, the Penetrator, The Destroyer, even a (comparatively tame) Dirty Harry series.    Other genres and subgenres were being subjected to similar publishing pressures. 

This is nothing new.  It’s not pleasant, but this isn’t the first time writers have been expected to handle the unpleasant realities of the publishing industry.  It won’t be the last.

2)  Periodically, arguments arise about the best climate for horror.  Arguments are made for people buying more under Republican or Democrat administrations, during wartime and peace, during one season or another.  The one overriding fact is this: people buy more horror… or more of anything… when they have disposable income to spend.  When someone is in debt, or is putting all of their money toward paying bills, they don’t have the extra money to purchase a book.  The end result is that sales are hurt across the board, as the reading population turns to alternatives like libraries, used book stores or re-reading old favorites.  Sales figures are directly related to the amount of money available to the buyers.

3)  Fear is where you find it.  It can be unsettling to roll up at a stoplight next to an apparent gangbanger, tatted up, listening to violent beat-heavy music and sitting proud in his chrome-laden, spinning-rimmed vehicle.  It’s far more disturbing to realize that the gangbanger’s car has a license plate reading “Pikachu”.    Or to have a multi-ton eighteen-wheeler riding your bumper at 65 MPH during a rainstorm, even if you didn’t just listen to Edo Van Belkom’s Mark Dalton story “Riders of the Purple Rage” on audiobook.  Or merely to have an inch-and-a-half long unidentified insect clinging to your driver’s side window for miles on end, only to have it fly after you when you finally emerged from the vehicle.  There are disturbing events in everyday life, and remembering and recounting them can make your stories more believable.

That’s it for now.  It’s after 1:30 AM for me, and I have a dentist’s appointment tomorrow (this) morning.

Many essays have been written and lessons taught on the importance of titles.  It is my intent to contradict none of them.

The fact is the title is the only aspect of a book or story’s first impression that an author can control.  The other items such as the cover art, the back cover or end flap plot summation, the story placement in the anthology, and the accompanying illustration in the magazine, are left to the editor and publisher.  The title is (generally) the author’s choice.

I understand that there is depth associated with the choice of a memorable title, whether “The Crying of Lot 49″ or “I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream” or “A is for Alibi”.  It doesn’t even have to be a long title.  “Ringworld” and “Necroscope” are single-word titles which are simultaneously unique and descriptive.  But I break with common wisdom in the relative value of a great title.

A great title does not elevate a story.  A lackluster title does not diminish a story by any significant amount.  the rare exceptions to these rules reside primarily in “flash fiction” or “short short stories” where the title interacts with the body of the work and can have an additive or deleterious effect. 

I’ll give you a couple of good examples.  “The Resonance of Blood” was the second in a series, after “The Screaming Knife”.  Both were supernatural thrillers written by Robert E. Vardeman in the early 1990s.  These two books had memorable titles, the protagonist was unusual, and the author brought his typical professionalism to the work.  The stories, however, were average… nothing bad, nothing wonderful, and easily lost amidst his other stories.

Opposing examples abound.  “The Crowd” by Ray Bradbury.  “The Hunter” by Richard Stark/Donald E. Westlake.  “The Model” by Robert Bloch.  “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson.  All of these authors were unarguable masters in their form, and that included an ability to create striking titles.  In each of these cases, they created stories which would linger in the mind regardless of what the stories were called.

Ray Bradbury’s “Fahrenheit 451″… one of the best-known stories in the English language… was originally published under the prosaic “The Fireman”.  The story was not made better by the change in title, nor any more memorable to those who had read it; it merely became more recognizable and interesting for those who had not.  F. Paul Wilson’s “The Tomb” is an immensely popular novel which has seen dozens of printings in multiple languages and which spawned a series of bestselling novels, all without a tomb present within the text of the story (which is why the novel was retitled to Rakoshi, the author’s preferred title, upon its limited edition release.)

Note, however, I said the “relative” value of a great title.  As mentioned before, it is something which helps to generate a first impression, and first impressions are valuable tools to the writer.  Anything that can remove the “potential” qualifier from a reader deserves attention.  Any chance you have to add to the overall presentation of your work should be examined for maximum positive effect.

But, as with revising, be prepared to accept a seemingly mundane title rather than overworking at being clever or unique.  A great story will always shine through.  As long as you don’t leave the bookseller dealing with a situation of “that story by that guy”, you’ve done your job.

Buy low. Sell high.

It’s common wisdom; by that, I mean it’s wise, and commonly known. Everyone with even a passing interest in commodities or stocks knows and understands the principle. But even those who are familiar with the concept often fail to prosper with its use.

Right now, we’re in the middle of a worldwide economic slump. In most countries, unemployment is high and rising… not engendering confidence among the populace. People are watching their money, saving more and spending less.

Again, some wisdom: having a nest egg saved in case of emergency is always a good idea. Even in the best of times, trouble and tragedy can strike. Being prepared for the worst, by keeping a relatively low debt and liquid or hard assets, is key to economic security.

If you’ve already got that, however, times like this are ideal for buying. It’s a buyer’s market, with many who do not have the security they’d like hurrying to increase their financial defenses. Fewer people buying the same quantity of materials means the price comes down on those materials. Also, due to problems such as job loss (whether them, their family, or their friends) or the evaporation of retirement funds, more people are selling off their valuables. The same amount of people buying from a greater pool of materials means the price comes down.

Fewer people buying from a greater pool of materials means the price drops dramatically… and the buyer is the winner.

Now, broadly speaking, there are two projections for our short-term economic future. One holds that things are at their worst right now and the economy is going to improve; the other holds that we’re at a peak right now and the economy is going to tank. Strangely, for both of these scenarios (and the array of divergent beliefs between them) this is a time to purchase. If you think that things are going to get better, this is the best time you’re going to have for quite a while to get great prices on rare items. If you think that things are going to get worse, you’re looking ahead to inflation, and hard assets are great hedges against inflation.

The result for me has been a significant decrease in sales, and sale prices… and a significant increase in same-buyer sales, where one person purchases a number of books, typically the mid- to high-range books: “collector’s items.”

Unfortunately, the desire to get some hard assets… in my case, rare books… can lead people to areas where they normally don’t travel, and there are dangers afoot. I thought I’d give some advice about negotiating the terrain.

First: a basic (and pleasant) truth. There is very little intentional fraud in the rare book market. The reason for this is simple; typically, it is the book itself which holds the greatest value, and the adjustments which could be made to the book will cause the book to be significantly devalued if they’re discovered. A $100 book with a false autograph can often be hard to move at $50, and the autograph might only add $10 to the sale price anyway. Beyond that, most sellers of rare books don’t simply have one, they have an entire stock, and it’s not worth the risk to their reputation to sell a questionable book. It just doesn’t make sense to play games.

That said, it doesn’t mean fraud never happens. I’ll give some examples.

First, autographs: the only time a buyer typically has to worry about an autograph’s authenticity is when the autograph is heavily desired on the collector’s market. J.D. Salinger is legendary for not signing anything. Philip K. Dick’s fame came mostly after his death, and his signed works sell in the hundreds to thousands of dollars. Thomas Harris does not make a habit of signing books. Stephen King signs books, but there are so many people who collect his work that there aren’t enough signed first editions to go around; the same holds true for J.K. Potter. Books signed by Robert A. Heinlein are highly prized. There are some others, but the combination has to be there: a high quantity of collectors, relatively few autographs available, and collectors who have significant disposable income.

So, fine, you should check on books autographed by that group of authors. But you can’t ignore the possibility that someone may be stupid enough to risk a significant loss for a paltry gain. So, keep your wits about you.

An example: I recently found a copy of the Easton Press edition of Nine Princes in Amber, signed on the back of the frontispiece by Roger Zelazny. I was dubious, and upon checking the “Zelazny signature” against a known signature, determined it was fake. The two signatures weren’t even similar. Why did I think to check? Dates. The frontispiece had been copyrighted in1996. Zelazny passed away in 1995. While it was just remotely possible that Easton Press had gotten a number of pages signed prior to his death and used them as the stock for the frontispiece, I thought the likelihood was extremely low. A little caution and awareness kept me from making an unwise purchase.

Second, book club editions: Most of them are obvious: smaller size, cheaper binding, a small code on the rear of the jacket, near the bottom. If a dealer is selling those, they’re not likely to mistake the books for true first editions. But again, there are exceptions, and it’s wise to do a little research. An example is Listening Woman by Tony Hillerman, one of his uncommon titles (and thus, one of his more expensive books; Hillerman is highly collected among people who are interested in native American fiction.) Harper & Row used the same books for the book club and the first trade edition: same binding, same boards, same paper quality, same size. The book club edition also contained the indication “First Edition” on the copyright page. The only way to tell the difference is a blind stamp to the back of the book, near the spine; and the jacket is missing a price. This sort of thing is rare, but it does happen. More commonly, you’ll just have to watch for the traditional indications of a book club edition. If you’re buying from a reputable dealer, you shouldn’t have to worry about this. Typically they will include the printing history within the listing; or, if they don’t, most rare book dealers will exclusively sell first editions. If you’re buying from an online auction site or a “store” you’ve never before used, you should try to verify the state before making your purchase.

It’s annoying, but it can save you from unexpected loss. If they’re specifying that the book is a first printing, you can either trust the seller or not (I tend to trust them). If they’re not specifying, it’s always wise to verify. I failed to follow my own advice, once, a few years ago; F. Paul Wilson was coming to a local convention, and I wanted a hardcover edition of The Tomb for my tables. I found a copy available at a good price from a UK seller on eBay. After shipping costs, the profit from the book’s sale would be negligible, but I wanted to have it as a draw, something rare and sought by an attending author which would encourage congoers to linger at the tables and see what else I might have.

I’m not used to taking a loss on books, much less a significant loss. I haven’t made that mistake again. And now I know that, yes, there was a book club edition of the UK hardcover of The Tomb.

The third type of common fraud is simple default. You pay someone to provide the book, and they don’t send it. This is difficult to gauge. After all, you want to be a courteous buyer, and allow a reasonable time after purchase for the package to arrive; but you also don’t want to provide money in exchange for nothing.

The reasons for this form of fraud vary. Sometimes it will be intentional from the start; other times, the person may intend to send the book(s) but will convince themselves not to honor the deal for a variety of reasons… the book sold too cheaply, they’ve decided not to sell it and will simply refund you the money when they’re financially secure, they took a justifiable dislike to something you said or did. The common thread among all of those reasons is that the seller is not living up to their end of the deal.

People who engage in this form of deceit earn a bad reputation very quickly. If you have even a tiny hint of questionable practices, you should ask around amongst those who might know the seller.

Failing that, I can only tell you my own guidelines: I give it two weeks. If I need the book immediately, I’ll specify that in my dealings before the sale closes, and I’ll expect the book to arrive promptly. Outside of that, I allow for personal crises and incidental trouble. I’ve been caught up in such things, and it only seems reasonable to allow that it might happen to others. Two weeks is, for me, a good rough guide; if the seller can’t send the merchandise or at least contact me about it within that time, I grow suspicious. If they have an excellent reputation, I might extend that time outward. Importantly, in my experiences with those who don’t intend to send the purchased merchandise, one day or one month makes no difference to them. They’re not likely to run off; they’re simply going to count on distance, relative anonymity, and the cost of pursuing them to weigh against a possibility of paying any penalty.

I suggest to you that if you’re in the United States, you save the following link. If you live elsewhere, you can contact your local postal service about the equivalent group. https://postalinspectors.uspis.gov/ This is the reason for my concerns about time; after a few weeks, it historically becomes more difficult for investigators to research a crime. Thankfully, with the computerized tracking available today, that’s not as great a concern as it once was. But you’re still handcuffing the inspectors if you wait a month or more after the event before contacting them.

The common solution to all of these problems is education. There are a number of web sites about books which will be able to provide information about certain sellers. There are similar sites devoted to any genre of book. Many long-careered authors have bibliographies written for their work, which can be used to seek book points (oddites which are unique to the true first edition.) Firsts magazine typically includes information about a featured author, including the book points. Sellers with bad reputations can be determined by such mechanisms as feedback or seller ratings on auction sites, or by asking around on message boards monitored by collectors within the appropriate field.

In short, this is a great time for buying, if you’re confident about your finances. Just be careful what you purchase. If a deal seems great, it probably is. And if something seems too good to be true, it probably is.

Stoker weekend.  Two tables. 1,200 miles away.

I’ll let you know how things turned out in a post-con addendum, but for now I want to focus on the preparation that goes into one of these.  It’s not simple, and it’s not cheap.

First, there’s the determination of what to bring.  The easy answer is to bring the work by the authors in attendance… but that easy answer is often wrong.  If the authors are bringing their own work, I prefer to avoid competing with them.   Moreover, if a publisher is attending, they are likely to have copies of the latest books by their published authors.

With this convention, many of the authors will be bringing their latest work.  Also, the majority of the dealers’ tables will be stationed by publishers.  This eliminates a number of titles which I would otherwise bring, and encourages me to focus on older titles and titles by publishers who aren’t going to be present.

Then, there’s the matter of the other dealers.  In this case, I’m facing two different but considerable stores: Bad Moon Books and Dark Delicacies.  DD isn’t one of the dealers in the room, but they are a huge fixture in the city, and the Thursday night mass signing is taking place there. 

Dark Delicacies stocks most contemporary titles; their selection is excellent and draws heavily from the small press.  People who will be going to the mass signing… I’d guess a third to a half of the attendees… will be able to purchase new books there, and it will also be the first stock seen.  Bad Moon has an exceptional stock of small press items, complete with many ultramodern rarities. 

A little competition with the pair of them is healthy… and it’s going to happen, because inevitably, there is crossover between tables.  But I feel I’ll be better served if I can provide items which neither of the other is carrying.  The decision is made to focus on what will likely be the gaps in their products.  Part of my standard format is the $3/$5 boxes, consisting of boxes full with paperbacks (many hard to find) which cost either three or five dollars each, with one free for every purchase over $20.  I’m going to have to bring at least one of these boxes.  As I’m going to have a paperback presence, then, I decide to play to that strength.  I have an excellent selection of rare paperbacks.  While it’s tempting to go with favorites such as paperback originals by Richard Laymon and Jack Ketchum, those titles have been reprinted recently, so I set them aside.  Instead, I gather some early Richard Matheson books, my one remaining Steve Brackeen (John Farris) paperback original, and some others from the attendees, and then I pick out books by authors who might be somewhat sought by an older, more sophisticated (i.e., Stoker Weekend Attendee) horror crowd: older books by Robert Bloch, Charles Beaumont, William F. Nolan, Manly Wade Wellman, Clark Ashton Smith and others.

Then, it’s time to select the hardcovers.  sending books isn’t cheap, so I need to have a few high-ticket items which will hopefully help to offset the mailing costs when sold.  The Richard Matheson: Collected Stories by DreamHaven is a given, as is the lettered edition of Gary Braunbeck’s Things Left Behind and the signed/limited of F. Paul Wilson’s Conspiracies.  After that, I pick appropriate titles, focusing primarily on novels, then collections, and lastly anthologies.   On occasion I grab an oddity… like the 1970 Cavalier issue featuring Stephen “Steve” King’s Graveyard Shift, or the magazine containing Harlan Ellison’s first pro sale… to draw attention.

I recognize that I need to provide a reasonable selection of the best-known attendees; some people will want to patronize me over other dealers, after all, and one reason why the guests are guests is that they are highly regarded and among the best in the field.  People read their work, and in order to read it, they need to buy it.  But horror authors, like other authors, are often broke… and many of the attendees are authors.  I gamble on the possibility of Dark Delicacies having sold through some of the older titles and Bad Moon focusing on the limiteds, and select a strong sampling of trade releases.

Now comes another problem: transit costs.  By this time, I’m up to ten boxes full of books… actually, rather small for a two-table spread; I’d normally have that many boxes for a single table, but I anticipate having space available for authors to set out copies of their books.  But at roughly $35 each due to weight and insurance… each way… the postal charges are going to rack up quickly.  I could save considerable money using media mail, but my experiences with media mail have not been good, either in treatment or transit time.  I’ve had both good and bad experiences with UPS, and will possibly be using them to ship the boxes back, but after a bad experience in Manhattan I prefer to learn from locals how their UPS branch functions before trusting the boxes to them.  In any case, I’m looking at $6-$700 in shipping charges.

That’s the preparation. 

Now, the mindset.

Combine the shipping cost with the cost of the tables, and that’s how much money I need to clear… in profit, not simple cash… to break even on this convention.  There will also likely be some value added, most notably if people do a walkthrough and sign their works before leaving on Sunday.  A Galaxy magazine from 1950 will sell for considerably more if it’s been signed at the story by Richard Matheson; a copy of The LaNague Chronicles will sell for more if signed by F. Paul Wilson.  That’s unpredictable, however.  Neil Gaiman and Jim Butcher have camped out at my table and signed stock for me; Larry Niven has signed four books, gotten a call to help someone, and left; Bob Asprin would sign everything he’d ever written and some things he just liked… if he remembered, but he’d just as often forget and leave without signing a thing.  And Jack Williamson, in his later years, would sign anything and everything during his assigned time, but was just too frail to be wandering through the dealer’s room signing table by table. 

It’s a risk.  It’s very plausible that I’ll lose money on this venture.  But it’s also very possible that I’ll make some cash, in exchange for sitting for a bunch of hours in a dealer’s room, talking with other people who love books… authors, editors, and publishers…. and grabbing an anecdote or three to add to the file of stories.  And in the evenings, drinks and conversation with people I rarely get to see, and to top everything off, the Stokers themselves.

How could I pass that up?

Most people aren’t selective when it comes to their reading.  They believe they are; they’ll look over the rack at a supermarket and consider all available titles before purchasing the one that most suits their current mood, or they’ll go into a bookstore and browse the shelves of an appropriate section before deciding on a particular title (possibly guided by prior experience with the author.)

This is reasonable behavior if you’re trying to stay on top of the hottest trend (as defined by the people with the biggest publicity budgets.)  Outside of that scenario, you’re limiting yourself.

First, you should realize that most people who work in bookstores are compulsive readers.  In the chain stores and the largest independents, that will sometimes mean that none of the employees on duty share your fiction and nonfiction interests.  However, even in those stores, the staff will overhear conversation from customers and they’ll see what’s selling.   If you’re lucky enough to find a store where a staffer shares a literary interest, they will likely be a treasure trove of information.   In any case, you lose nothing by asking the staff for recommendations and you may gain knowledge of heretofore unfamiliar authors.  In specialty bookstores, the entire staff is typically well versed within the chosen field.  Pick their brains.  Asking about Richard Matheson may bring up the names of William F. Nolan, Charles Beaumont and George Clayton Johnson.  Asking if there are any more Richard Laymon books scheduled for re-release may bring up the title of Castaways by Brian Keene, a connection from one author to a deeply appreciated fallen mentor by way of the Beast House.  Discussing Robert Bloch may bring the conversation around to R. Chetwynd-Hayes by way of the Amicus anthology films of the 1970s.  Hell, a conversation about Harlan Ellison could segue into one on Barry Malzberg, which could lead you to The Running of Beasts, co-written with Bill Pronzini.

These people are there to operate the cash register for you, but most can do far more.  Use them to your benefit.

Also, don’t be satisfied with merely what’s on the shelf.  Sure, if you need something to read now, you’re limited to the available items.  But if you’re hoping to purchase something you don’t see, go to the bookseller and ask about special orders.  They’ll want some contact information for when the book comes in, but that’s all.  What they’re stocking is what the person in charge of orders thought would sell through.  They are always happy to get special orders; not only is it nearly a guaranteed sale, but it provides information to their buyer as to what is getting good word of mouth advertising in their area.

The last benefit of this can be in the exploitation of rarities.  As an example, roughly a year after Dennis Lehane’s A Drink Before The War came out in hardcover, it had garnered significant critical buzz and it was selling for $75-$100 on the secondary market.  I walked into Barnes and Noble and special-ordered a hardcover.  When it arrived, I was able to verify that the book shipped from their warehouse was indeed a spare unremaindered first edition, which I proceeded to purchase for cover price.  (That book is long since sold, but I do have another copy for sale.)  This is often disappointing… many titles sell through long before they’re taken off of the special order lists, and I can’t count the times I ordered something only to be later informed that the storehouse was out… but it’s never going to hurt to take a chance.

Lastly, if you know a bookseller is going to set up at a convention, and you’re looking for something, send them an e-mail a week or two prior indicating what you’re interested in purchasing.  There’s no obligation to buy, but you’ll be far more likely to hear, “Yes, I have one right here” as opposed to “Oh, damn, I left that at the store.”  This advice holds true in particular for rare/used booksellers.  Most of us have huge quantities of stock, and giving us an indication as to what you might be interested in seeing eliminates a lot of the guesswork on our part.  This holds true in particular if you’re hunting for something scarce but not particularly expensive or sought, like the Asian Horror Encyclopedia by Laurence C. Bush or The Skeleton Closet of Jules de Grandin by Seabury Quinn.

Yes, we can just ring up or write a receipt for your purchase from our store or table.  But with a little extra effort, we can also help you get more out of your reading hours.

(This essay came about because the original was scrapped two hours prior to deadline, for reasons which cannot be divulged.  I hope some people find it helpful.  I’ll be dealing at Stoker Weekend in roughly a month, and I’ve been putting things up on ebay to help me raise money to purchase a new home.  If it garners a few requests for specific titles to bring or list, I’ll know it hit home with some readers.  And of course, conversation about authors is always welcome.)

I was talking with my fiancee this weekend, and she asked me to tell her the topic of my Storytellers Unplugged essay this month.  ”I’m not sure,” I told her.  ”I’ve got a few ideas, and I’ll figure out which two most appeal at the time I sit to write, then pick the best of the pair on the night of the tenth.”

“You know what you should do,” she said.  “You should do something on the little tricks you have, like getting price stickers off of books without damaging the paper.”

I pointed out that I’d already written an essay like that, back in the early days.  She asked when, and I couldn’t recall the exact date.  Suddenly, the mental gears clicked, and I knew one of the essay topics.  Something that I don’t believe has been covered here… and if it has been, then it makes the topic more timely.

Concordances, indexes and bibliographies.  For the duration of this essay, shortened to CIBs.

Hey, now… don’t skip to another web site.  Hear me out.  This is important. Trust me.

These nonfiction compendiums are, admittedly, among the dryest of reading.  The typical perception is that they are helpful to scholars, and relatively worthless to non-scholars.  This is a false perception.  It costs collectors money, and it costs many successful authors time.  These items are reference books, and not usually designed for casual reading (although there are some pleasant exceptions to that rule, such as the Starmont author guides.)  Neither are your dictionary or your current market guide, and it’s a rare author who would part with either of them.

But, these days, CIBs aren’t always reference “books”.  They can be (and often are) web sites, full of information dutifully arranged by a fan who is either dedicated, suffers from OCD, or both.  These are wonderful places, so long as they stay in existence.  Many great CIB sites have folded or stagnated as their caretakers become distracted by life or lose their hosting.  Still, if you find one, it’s worth bookmarking.

A quick example of how they can be helpful: I’m in flux at the moment.  I’m engaged, I’m going to be purchasing a house, and I’m selling a lot of books on ebay to help cover the down payment.  Some of those books are anthologies; just recently, I listed a copy of Dark of the Moon (Arkham House, 1947) edited by August Derleth.  It is a compilation of much significant weird fantasy poetry through that date, and includes selections by dozens of authors.  Rather than spend the time required to list every one of the dozens of authors and poems collected in the book, I merely drifted over to the internet science fiction database, copy/pasted their online table of contents for the book into my listing, and continued on my way.  I undoubtedly saved myself more than an hour of effort, because someone had already listed the contributions to the collection.

For the person selling books, and for the collector, a good CIB is invaluable.  They’ll provide all the information you need to determine if you’re buying a first edition, or if you have a first edition to sell.  They’ll let you know which magazine issues hold stories from an author in question, enabling you to buy or sell with greater precision.  They’ll provide full details of an author’s pseudonyms, including the works published under those pseudonyms.  You’ll know the names used for the young adult stories of Charlie Grant and Ray Garton, the western written by Richard Laymon, or the gothic romances written by Dean Koontz.  These are of great appeal to collectors of the authors’ works.  Knowing which names Robert E. Howard wrote under while listing that box of 1930s boxing story pulps from your grandfather’s basement can mean thousands of dollars more when you sell them.

For the writer, it can simply be an wonderful aid to your research.  Case in point: using a document file cribbed from a writer who reads SU, I was able to grab some instant notes in the time it would take me to do a single search.  I know that Skipp’s final SU column was on November 5, 2008; I know of multiple dates for interview tips, so I can compare/contrast to determine which work best for me (if I ever get interviewed, that is) and I can seperate the essays on how to develop character motivation from those on how to keep yourself motivated as a writer.  For the person who has grown used to doing internet and site searches to locate any information, it’s easy to forget that there may be faster ways than computer analysis.  Opening a text file or a book may be a significant time saver if the information is arranged properly.

For an editor, they can be treasure troves.  A comprehensive CIB will provide information about works which have never been published in book form, how often a particular story has been published and when it most recently saw print, and can sometimes even provide information about who currently owns the publishing rights for stories.  They can direct you to linked and related works.  Many will direct you to alternate versions of a story if variants exist, allowing you greater leeway in your own choices.

CIBs are deceptively priced.  Many are produced in small quantities by small or university presses, like Starmont House, Popular Press, McFarland Books or Bowling Green University Press.  When they are offered for sale premium prices are often requested.  The publisher will ask a high price to cover the cost of a small print run and the many hours of work put in by the author.  Secondary market sellers will often try to mark up yet more, under the (accurate) notion that the person who wants it will have to pay the high price because they won’t be able to find it cheaply anyplace else.  That is a valid strategy.  Another truth, however, is that unless the seller makes a habit of visiting certain venues (Bouchercon, Worldcon, Pulpcon) very few people are interested in CIBs, making them white elephants.  As a buyer, always be prepared to haggle over the price of one you might wish to buy and watch for them to appear on auction sites where they typically fetch the original asking price if anyone bids at all.  With surprisingly little expenditure of time or money you can amass a set of books and a group of web links which will provide a staggering amount of potentially helpful information.

They come in all styles, too.  Want something on the Ace Mystery Doubles? Sheldon Jaffery did one, for Starmont.  He also did one on Arkham House books… and then Arkham House published their own, as well.   Looking for a listing of the work of Clark Ashton Smith?  Not a problem.  A guide to monster magazines?  Check the McFarland listings.  With few exceptions, the scholarly effort that goes into these works is impressive and they cost a fair dollar if you’re eager to have them.  The quality of the work doesn’t diminish over time, though, and the prices usually do.

Oh, and as for how to get price stickers off?  It’s easy: if it’s on a standard glossy jacket or paperback, lightly coat the label with lighter fluid, let it sit for about three seconds, then pull at one of the edges.  When it rises slightly or scrapes inward, put a little more lighter fluid on, trying to get it under the label.  When the lighter fluid mixes with the adhesive, it will loosen the adhesive until the lighter fluid evaporates (which happens quickly… it’s a volatile liquid.)  Pull the label free as the adhesive loosens (don’t pull too hard… if it’s not seperating relatively easily, it’s not truly loose, and you’re likely to cause a tape pull despite your effort) and then once the label is off, wipe the area with a cloth or some tissue paper.  Use more fluid and gentle rubbing with clean cloth/paper to get the adhesive residue off.

I’d be lying if I said this didn’t delight me, but upon reflection it was also mildly frustrating.  Here was a person who was no stranger to writing, who was enjoying a blog about the field.  They had a long history with nonfiction prior to their fiction success, so they weren’t intimidated by offering direct opinions and they were adept at communication.  Despite these qualifications, they didn’t chime in when I had previously requested comments.

I do not think this person is unique.  Actually, I know they’re not; I’ve had people link to my posts or mention them to me in the past (and yes, it’s always a thrill.)  But enjoying the blog does not necessarily equate to feeling inspired to post a reply.  If anything, I suspect professionals are put off of the notion because their professionalism encourages them to stay quiet unless they have something of definite value to add.  That’s purely speculation on my part, but while I’ve seen more than my share of pros and talented amateurs get starstruck when speaking to the people who inspired them, I’ve rarely seen them chime in with “Me too” or even “Great job.”  Janet Berliner, David Niall Wilson, Mort Castle, and some of the other regulars here are exceptions… but that only adds an insulated feel sometimes, as if you’re speaking only to other contributors.  I know with certainty that is not the case; once again, I desperately ask that readers interact.

Chime in.  Link.  Suggest topics.  Criticize.  It’s all appreciated, and encourages people to continue to participate.

………and that brings us to…

“Writers Rarely Help Other Writers.”

Where does that gem of wisdom originate?  From a Writer’s Digest book called Some Writers Deserve to Starve.  It’s one of the author’s basic truths, each of which form the basis of a chapter.  And the author, Elaura Niles, backs up her claim with anecdotes and analysis.

That said, she’s wrong.

I’m inclined to believe she may be correct in the field of general fiction, as well as some other categories of writing… screenplays in particular, with which Ms. Niles seems to have experience.  But I spend most of my time in the genres (horror, science fiction, fantasy, mystery, thriller) and I can’t agree with her.  There are too many contrary examples.

The primary purpose of this blog is to offer advice to writers; it’s available for free.  Go to any genre convention, and you’ll find panels on writing, publishing, or the general state of the industry.  Chat rooms and message boards abound with authors seeking momentary breaks from their busy schedules.  It’s not just general aid, either; if you’re serious about trying to produce good work, you’ll always find someone willing to help you.  Sometimes it may cost some money, like with the Borderlands Boot Camp or Clarion Writer’s Workshop.  As expected, you can expect to get more attention when you’re paying for it, but the principle remains the same: writers are helping other writers.

It’s not limited to those trying to get a first foot into the door, either.  I’ve seen numerous blurbs from King and Koontz on the covers of horror novels, blurbs from David Drake and David Weber on military sf, Lawrence Block and Donald E. Westlake and Laurie King on mysteries.  Authors blurb writers in their genres, helping each other out.  Sometimes they’ll even include the works of friends in their stories; in Laurell K. Hamilton’s first hardcover novel, she included a paragraph in which her protagonist was commenting positively on the work of Sharon Shinn… who just happened to be a friend of Hamilton.

Yes, cliques develop, and grudges between writers grow and diminish with time.  Everyone doesn’t love everyone else.  But as true as Ms. Niles’ comment may be for some aspects of the field, it does not hold true for most of the genres.  That is something which deserves appreciation.

…..and speaking of deserving appreciation…

The nomination ballot for the World Fantasy Awards arrived yesterday.  I have little to offer award nominations, generally; I am often at least a full year behind on my reading, and therefore cannot consider myself to be appropriately knowledgable about the fiction of the last twelve months to make an educated decision.  Certainly I can point to the stories which generated the most buzz, but that’s substituting the judgment of others for my own; if I am inclined to do that, I can let them make the decisions without my input.

There is one exception, however.  The Lifetime Achievement Award.  This one is based on a person’s body of work, and I can offer an informed opinion on that.

It is reserved for people who have made a profound impact on some aspect of the fantasy field.  It may be for writing, or for art, editing, publishing, or even fan activity.  The important things seem to be that the person has dedicated a considerable amount of time to the field, has produced an exceptional body of work, and is still alive.

We can only nominate; the judges make the final decision.  But I’d like to think that with enough nominations, the judges might be inclined to look into the status of someone and learn why there was a concerted effort to bring them to the judges’ attention.

For that reason, I humbly ask that those who are either attending or who have recently attended (and therefore are eligible to submit ballots) consider adding Allen Koszowski to their list of nominees for Lifetime Achievement Award.  Allen K. has been publishing his art both professionally and in fan productions since the early 1970s, and is the editor and publisher of Inhuman magazine.  Inhuman, however, has been slow to release the fourth issue because of Allen K.’s health problems.  He has recently revealed publicly his heart issues and transient strokes, and while it is very possible that he may live decades more (and I certainly hope that is the case) I would prefer that the WFA judges give his corpus a serious consideration at this time, whether they ultimately decide to grant the award or not.  Providing an impetus for them to do so seems a minor repayment to someone who has given the field such love and effort over a span of decades.

It appears that I’m going to be running a pair of tables in the dealer’s area at Stoker Weekend, the interesting event that’s currently being plugged on the board.  I thought I’d take some time to give people an idea of just what goes on for dealers at conventions.  Some of you may be eyeballing books on your shelves or the craft items you’ve been making as a hobby.  Let me give you a little insight into what might await, should you try to sell at a convention.

1) Travel.  If you’re driving, this isn’t a big deal… unless you’ve got a small vehicle.  If you’re bringing enough to make good use of a table, you should have enough to fill the back of a small car.  If you’re carring something heavy, like books, you’re going to need to drive differently… that much weight doesn’t only decrease your fuel mileage, it also increases the stopping distance for your breaks.  And a flat tire becomes a real nightmare.  Airlines are fine… but you’ll have to ship your item to the hotel via a package service, and that’ll add to your costs.

ANECDOTE: Keep in mind the conditions for your products, also.  I attended a convention in Oklahoma called Conestoga.  It was a great convention, well organized with friendly staff, engaging guests and a good attendance.  I, however, failed to consider that the vehicle in which I was making the trip lacked air conditioning.  In August.  Many of the books suffered heat damage during the multi-hour trip, particularly the paperbacks as glued bindings expanded and warped.

2) Setup.  This comes in two parts.  The first is getting the stuff to the table.  If you drove, this is where a dolly will come in handy.  And someone to open the doors for you as you move the items to your table.  And a lot of luck regarding the weather.  You’ll typically have a six-hour gap on the night before the convention and a few hours before the dealers’ room opens to get all of your merchandise in and set up.  All of the other sellers have the same time span.  If you mailed your items to the hotel, they’ll be waiting in a storage area, and you’ll again be well-served by a dolly.

The second part is arranging the goods on your table(s).  Displaying items can be a complex game.  You have to take into account what you’re most trying to sell, and display it for optimum notice by passersby.  You also have to look to see what other dealers are selling, and make a spot decision about the competition.  Modifying this will be the type of convention.

ANECDOTE: I was set up at a science fiction convention, and there were three other book dealers.  Rather than follow the usual formula and spread all of us out, the convention organizers decided to make a “book alley” where all four of us had adjacent tables.  Two of the dealers had new books out for sale, and one had 1950s hardcovers.  Rather than spend my limited table space duplicating what was already available for sale, I put out modern collectibles, expanded the area I’d designated for rare paperbacks, and set three more boxes of rare magazines on the table for people to hunt through.  My sales were brisk.  Although I did have to restrain myself from responding to comments made by the 1950s HC dealer about the innate superiority of his (overpriced) wares.

At the next convention, I undercut him on many of his books.  Important lesson: respect the other dealers.

3) Sales.  This is what you’d think would be the exciting part of the convention.  And, well, it is.  But it’s exciting in the manner of a full day at the racetrack.  There are typically bursts of activity, followed by periods of quiescence.  It’s very hard to reach a happy medium.  Ideally, you’ll have a constant flow of one or two customers.  In reality, you’ll get five people at a time, with two others browsing, causing you to watch for theft while simultaneously trying to make change and fill out receipts… and all the while, someone will be trying to hold an interesting conversation with you.  This is a recipe for stress.  After the sales flurry dies away, you’ll find yourself sitting… and sitting… and sitting.  Depending on the convention, hours can go by without anyone doing more than walking by your table.   More than anything else, you have to be expecting this and not let it worry or depress you.

When there’s a con guest who has a table, they usually can shut down (by throwing a tablecloth over their wares) and go to a panel or lunch, and return with little worry.  Their primary purpose for attending is to be a participant, with the sales a helpful aside.  When it’s a dealer, the story is different.  They’re present to make a profit, and their presence makes both attendees and organizers happy… the former because it gives them yet another available activity (shopping) and the latter because happy attendees make for a pleasurable convention.  It’s not a good idea for any of the three groups if the dealer has to close down in the middle of the shopping times for more than an incidental break.

The best part of being a dealer, to me, is the chance you get to talk with others who share your interests.  That is not always a good thing.   If you’re lucky, you’ll get someone like Mort Castle wandering by, noticing a book you have out, and getting into an informative and interesting discussion.  If you’re unlucky, someone will start a long discourse on why the Hulk could beat up Superman, or why a cross-genre novel featuring Frodo Baggins and Lestat as private detectives would be a great idea.

Authors deal with these people all the time.  For the most part, they’re nice people who are a touch obsessive.  Remember, though… the dealer is stuck there, at his or her table, while an author participant can merely walk away.

No matter what the temptation, be nice.  That person has paid to go to the convention, and it’s in everyone’s best interest that all the attendees have a good time.  And know ahead of time that it’s likely to happen.

ANEDCOTE: At the last convention, I surprised a legendary sf writer by having a variety of Fredric Brown paperback mysteries on my table.  He’d heard good things about them, but had never seen more than one in any place.  We proceeded to get into a lengthy discussion about Brown’s work in sf, mystery, and horror, and then spun off into a general discussion of mystery/thriller books.  At the same convention, a person provided a full synopsis of a fan-fiction novel they want someone to write, featuring Anne McCaffrey’s Pern.  I listened to him politely, despite A) his having told me the idea before, B) Ms. McCaffrey aggressively defending her copyright regarding Pern, such that no fan fiction is allowed to be professionally published, and C) it being a better idea to learn to write than to wait for someone to do it for you.

4) Breakdown: At the end of the convention, dealers typically have three to five hours to get everything boxed up and clear of the room.  That smaller time span can cause logjams at the doors out of the room.  The best thing to do is to watch, and try to time your departure; if everyone is scrambling to leave, spend a little extra time packing items up; if the majority are packing, start moving things out immediately.  A little careful assessment can save hours.

This is meant both to encourage and dissuade readers from setting up a table at a convention.  If you’re ready for the tedium, annoyance at missing an interesting panel or three, and troubles associated with getting your merchandise to and from the con, and then if you have wares to sell, you might be successful with convention sales.  If any of that sounds like it would be a bit too much, stick with ebay and direct sales off of your web site or a message board.

And, of course, I have another motive.  As I stated at the beginning, I’m going to be attending Stoker Weekend as a dealer.  Conversation will almost certainly be not merely appreciated but encouraged, and I hope to see some of you there!