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"Yesterday's Bitches, 31-40"

Bitch # 31, Bitch #32, Bitch #33, Bitch #34, Bitch #35, Bitch #36, Bitch #37, Bitch #38, Bitch #39, Bitch #40

Bitch #31

Critiquing Your Critique

I recently went to a party, and before I could get out the door I had been handed not one, but two pieces that people wanted me to “look at and let them know what I thought.” I gently tried to talk them out of it by explaining that they probably won't like what I have to say, and that I actually hate to do it, because it can ruin relationships, but they assured me that they are adults and will behave accordingly.

I hope they will. I always hope they will, because so far I just don't have the heart to tell people that I'd rather take an enema than critique another writer’s work.

At the very least it's a hell of a lot of work for someone who already has a mountain of slush to wade through.

What the new writer needs to understand is that going through their manuscript is not at the top of the list of things a professional writer or an editor wants to do.

See, you can't win. If you say no you won't do it, then you're branded an asshole who doesn't want to help someone new, and if you do the critique chances are that you'll be branded a pompous asshole who doesn't understand or appreciate their vision. It's very rare that the writer tells you how much they appreciate your time or even utter a simple thank you.

More times than not, they will critique your critique. They'll point spelling or punctuation errors you made in your edits and tell you that you have a limited vision or that you just simply didn't understand their piece.

Case in point. I had a friend practically beg me to look at their short story, and tell them what I thought was missing. I line edited the piece and used my money to mail it back to them.

I have not heard from them since, and since they normally e-mailed two and three times a week, I can only assume that they are so pissed off about my line edit that they are no longer speaking to me, though I didn't say one hateful thing in my edit. In fact I liked the piece.

The truth is that people don't ever really want you to help their work, or fix what's wrong. What they want you to do is to read their work, declare it brilliant, and tell them exactly where to send it, or in my case to publish it.

Me, you, and the guy who's just finished writing his three paragraph story are all looking for an “in,” but here's a clue, most of us still haven't found our “in.”

I wish I could wave a magic wand and give everyone the career they want, but life doesn't work that way. I can read your work and tell you what I think you need to do to make it better or “fix it,” but it will only be my opinion. Is it a more informed opinion than your own? If you don't think so, then why did you ask me to look at it in the first place? Then, after I look at it, make suggestions, and give it back to you, I expect you to – at the very least – say thank you.

I don't want to hear that you’re gakking me out behind my back because, “She's a hack, and she's telling me what to do.” I don't want you to avoid contact with me or give me looks across the room like I stepped on your puppy. Or write me hate mail about how I'm just plain stupid.

Ten years from now when I write a book which you think is just like the one you showed me and I didn't say was perfect, I don't want to hear that you're telling everybody and their dog that I stole your story idea.

Here's the thing, if I didn't ask to read your story, if you asked me, and I did it, the whether or not you like or use what I had to say, I still did you a favor. You didn't do me one!

Asking me to critique your manuscript is the equivalent of me going to your place of employment and asking you to work two to three hours – or more – overtime for no extra money. And to do it with a smile on your face, and listen to my shit afterwards if I think you didn't perform the task to my expectations even though I might have little or no experience with your job.

There are an entire list of reasons that pros eventually reach a point where they just flat won't even think about critiquing a new writer’s work – and almost all of them reach that point fairly quickly – but the number one reason has got to be that instead of gratitude you are more likely to get shit back.

So... people... if you have ever asked someone to look at your book/short story/screen play and you gave that person shit, now's as good a time as any to apologize. If you either didn't like what they had to say so you didn't thank them, or you just flat didn't think it was necessary, now would be a good time to write that thank you card or send flowers.

And the next time you even think about asking for someone's opinion on your work, make damn sure you actually want their opinion. Remember they don't have to do it, so if they say no, you don't have the right to be pissed off. If they say yes, don't expect them to drop everything to do it immediately, and when they finish it say thank you with a smile on your face even if you think they are totally wrong about everything they said.

Finally, if what they told you actually helps you write a sales worthy story, what about a little credit where credit is due?

 

Bitch #32

Enough With the Good Vibes


            First just let me say that I love Ellen DeGeneres, and I love her new talk show. In fact, I have been a huge fan of hers from the very beginning. I admire her for coming out when she did and taking all the heat she took doing so. It makes me feel good that she’s openly gay and has been accepted once again as a performer. It gives me hope for the future.
            That said there is something she and a lot of other celebrities are doing that is driving me nuts. The whole “I’m so fortunate, so lucky. You, too should have faith because with a little faith, hard work, and perseverance, your dreams will come true, too”.
            It’s bullshit! Sorry, but reality bites.
            Most of us reach our whole lives and never grab the brass ring.
            Now it’s true, when I was young I loved to hear famous people tell me that I, too, could be where they were, I believed them. But the older you get without ever having any success the less you want to hear it.
            It’s like they’re trying to take away our right to be bitter, and here’s the thing about that. I bet three years ago when Ellen couldn’t get arrested in Hollywood and her girlfriend had just totally flaked out on her... well, I just bet that then she wasn’t running around saying how blessed and lucky she was or how we just needed to hang on and good things would happen for us. I bet she was every bit as bitter and angry as I am now.
            And by God I don’t care what the kids need to hear, I need to hear – to know – that I’m not the only person in the world that life has shit on and rubbed it in.
            I want to hear a speech from someone on those downhill skids, and no, I don’t mean Michael Jackson. I want to hear what Ellen had to say when she wasn’t in the great shape she’s in right now. I want to know if she lost all hope. If she ever thought she and the world would be better off if she were dead. You know, all the things that run through a normal human’s head when absolutely nothing is going your way.
            What? You mean normal people don’t get in black moods where they eat themselves into diabetes and scream at the postman because he’s just brought them yet another bill they can’t pay?
It’s easy to be positive and upbeat when you have everything you’ve ever wanted and ten things you didn’t know you wanted till you had them.
            It’s easy to be an inspiration to people when you feel really good about yourself and what you’re doing. It’s not so easy when everything just sucks and you see no way out of the bottomless pit life has dug for you.
            You never see someone whose just lost their job, or had their wife leave them, or pictured standing outside the smoldering remains of their home wrapped in a blanket saying, “All I have to do is keep a positive attitude and work hard and I’ll get everything I ever wanted.”
            Every cloud has a silver lining. It’s always darkest before the dawn. When you have lemons make lemonade. These phrases are for people who occasionally get what they want they don’t apply to the rest of us and should be modified.
            Every cloud has a poisonous mercury lining. It’s always darkest just before the alarm wakes you to get up and go to that crappy job you hate. When you have lemons you probably wasted all your beer money.
            I’m glad things are going so well for Ellen; she truly deserves it. But I need to hear her say – just once – “I’m so lucky, but don’t knock yourself out, chances are no matter how hard you work and no matter how persistent you are you’re probably always going to be a big loser.”
 

Bitch #33

Censorship – Freedom’s Silent Killer

            So... here's the problem with censorship: what offends all hell out of me, might not offend you at all and vice-versa.

          Case in point – the whole Janet Jackson boob fiasco. I couldn’t care less that Janet showed part of her breast – very briefly – on national TV during a Super Bowl halftime show. Big deal! Nudity doesn't offend me, not in the least. Hell, if I had my way the whole half time show would just be naked people – maybe with big pools of niller puddin'. Just good looking naked people slipping and sliding – maybe wrestling in the puddin'. Hell, I'd watch the game then.

          All these moral majority nut jobs are screaming that their kids were watching, and they shouldn't have to worry about their children being exposed to things like that during a football game. I've even heard the argument that "Why should religious people have to put up with all the debauchery in the country while everyone is screaming and putting religion down?"

          Do they live in some country besides the one we're living in now?

              Howard Stern is being shut down all over the country because of them. Gay marriage and the stopping thereof has become their great concern. Like gay people marrying is somehow going to ruin marriage for straight people. The president of the United States – with everything that's wrong in the country and in the world – spent a great big chunk of the State of the Union address talking about how we needed to have a constitutional amendment to stop gays from marrying.

          So... where are all these "religious people" who are tolerating... well, anything that they don't like? There are hundreds of religious shows aired every week and dozens of channels on TV devoted to nothing but religious programming, and if you turn any of these on at any point in the day you can hear them talking about putting an end to something that they don't approve of – that you do.

          That's not tolerance.

          I don't see any TV channels or shows that are geared completely and solely to tearing down the rights of good, religious folks.

          So... these people are complaining, moaning and groaning, and trying to change the law to shut down Howard Stern and send Janet to jail, fine her, or at the very least destroy her career for exposing part of her breast for three seconds, and then they want everyone to shut up and quit saying that Passion Of the Christ is in any way anti-Semitic.

          Mel Gibson produced a movie that has caused preachers to post anti-Jewish sentiments on their church billboards and caused Synagogues nationwide to receive hate mail. God alone knows what horrors might be unleashed on the Jewish community because of this picture, and here's the thing – I'd never in a million years think to tell anyone that this movie should be pulled and not shown in theaters.

          I haven't seen the movie, nor will I go to see it. Why should I, I'm Jewish. (I'd like to take a minute to remind people that it is Christian belief that Jesus had to die for their sins. This being the case, even if the Jews did kill him, then how can they be held to blame for their part in fulfilling God's plan? And how absurd is it that I am to be held accountable for something some ancient person did? Isn't this the same sort of argument the Moslems use for attacking Christians because of the crusades?) I can't say for a certainty that the movie is anti-Semitic, but I think the hate mail and the anti-Semitic postings by preachers inspired by the film to do so more or less speak for themselves.

          The existence of a movie which causes hate for any group of people greatly offends me – that it happens to be my group of people just makes it a little more personal. But here's the thing about freedom of speech, kids. I have to put up with what offends me in order for me to expect you to put up with what offends you.

          Truth is I don't like the Howard Stern show much; I rarely watch or listen to him. I find him to be highly offensive and not all that funny on most days.

          So... I'm not going to see Passion of the Christ, and when Howard's show starts to offend me, or I land on “The Seven Hundred Club” while channel surfing, I change the channel. It's a simple solution. If you're offended by something, don't watch it, don't support it, and tell people that you don't like it and why, but you have no right whatsoever to try to shut something down because you find it offensive or to otherwise trample on the free speech laws of our country towards your own ends.

          As for Janet's breast? Well, if you don't want your kids to see her breast covered only by a pasty, then stop rewinding your super bowl tape and showing them over and over again. 

 

Bitch #34

The Thong Is Wrong and Other Things That Are Stuck In My Crack

             I don't get the thong. I don't understand why guys would think they're attractive on women, and I sure as hell don't understand why women would wear them.

            What the hell is so attractive about a woman digging a string out of her butt crack every few minutes? And you gottah know that where that thing is stuck it just always smells like butt, yeah that's a real turn on. Besides which there are like three women in the world who have the ass to pull this look off, and none of the ones I have seen were one of those three.

            As for wearing them... what's the freaking point? Why wear underwear at all? Just bypass the whole thing and go all natural. I can't imagine what it must feel liked to have a freaking string in your but crack all day, and I don't want to find out. To me this would be torture of a high level.

            I suppose it's all about fashion, and I just don't understand fashion. This is obvious because I will wear the same pair of pants till there is no ass or knees left in them and I basically just have threads hanging from my waist on a belt. Just like a guy I will have a shirt I like and I will wear it every time I go out until my partner moves it from the good pile into the paint rag pile where I rescue it and wear it to work in until... well, it's basically just threads hanging from the collar. Suffering for fashion, being uncomfortable to look good... that just flat doesn't compute in my brain. But chicks don't seem to care how comfortable they are as long as they look good.

            So... maybe this is one reason I sometimes feel like my male characters are more realistic than my female characters. For a woman I'm just really not all that in tune with my feminine side.

            I can't do a convention that at some point on some panel the phrase "A man with tits" isn't used to describe someone’s strong female character – usually a male writer’s character – who's too masculine. I'm just as guilty as anyone because you tend to write from your experiences, and well... let's face it, I'm really nothing in the world but a guy with tits.

            But this isn't my bitch today. See to me these characters are realistic. No, my bitch is with some women writers who think they're writing realistic male characters when they are, in fact, writing a “woman with a dick.”

            They write characters that are so effeminate that they make some of the queens I know look butch. 

            Obviously they are buying all that namby-pamby, wishy-washy, sensitive crap that some guys spew to chicks because they know it's what most chicks want to hear. These women think they understand the male psyche because a man talked to them once. Men will say things like, "I can't be myself around my male friends," or "Most guys put on a front for each other but deep down we're all just as sensitive as women," to them, and they think this has given them a perfect insight on the male condition. 

            These guys score a lot because they're full of bullshit.

            Here's the truth, though: men are different from women.

            All my life I've just been one of the boys. Most of my close friends, both in childhood and as an adult, have been men.  I was married to a man for twelve years. I've raised a son and had all his friends in the house day and night for going on twenty-four years. I worked construction most of my life, and I've also worked and been friends with "sensitive" guys with big-time degrees. I did stand-up opening for a drag show and shared a dressing room with as many as seven queens at a time, and here's what I learned:

            Men are different from women.

            Yes, they can be compassionate and caring, loving and nurturing. In fact, most of the really caring people I have known have been men, but... they don't act like a chick with a dick.

            Men act and talk completely different around each other than they do around women. If they didn't they'd never get laid. Most of them have to fight every instinct in their being not to laugh at a fart or a fart joke. Even the most blatant “metero-sexual” secretly thinks there is nothing funnier than a really loud, ripe fart.

            Since I want all the things men want – beer, women, and really nice power tools – I've had a rare chance to see into the secret world of men. I've been privy to their inner-most thoughts and secrets. Guys do open up to each other, but it's not the same as when women do it. Guys will feel bad, so they'll grab a couple of buddies, have a few beers, and then at some point just unload about what's bothering them.

            Let's say they're having girl trouble. Their friends won't try to psychoanalyze them or go into the deep meanings of their problem, they'll say, "She's a f---ing bitch. Dump her ass, man."

            "But I love her, I really do..."

            "F--- that, she's a worthless whore. Kick her ass to the curb."

            "You really think so?"

            "Sh—yeah! Women are a dime a dozen, man. I heard (So and So Hot Chick) was asking about you."

            "Really?"

            "Yeah."

            Problem solved.

Men tend to worry more about their jobs than their relationships. Bitching about work will start out with the same ritualistic beer drinking.

            "My boss, he's such a little prick."

            "What did he do?" Buddy asks, then he blows a big fart and they all laugh for ten minutes.

            "He told me to do (something hideous they didn't want to do)."

            "F--- him, man! Get a new job."
            "But I really love this job, man."

            "F--- that man, you don't need that shit."

            "You really think so?"

            "Sh—yeah! Jobs are a dime a dozen. I hear they're hiring over at Mac Steel." 

            "Really?"

            "Yeah."

            He feels better, but here's the thing. He'll dump the chick, but he probably won't quit his job. He just needs to vent. They'll put up with more crap from a boss than they will a woman, and here's why. It really is hard to find a good job, but a chick in a thong in a girly magazine will do in a pinch, and after all God did give man opposable thumbs.

 

Bitch #35

Group Dynamics or I am the KING!

            Every group I have ever been associated with has imploded as a result of group dynamics. Someone new comes into the group and decides they want to be whoever is in charge. This person is invariably a human leach who doesn't want to do any of the actual work that would endear themselves to the group. No, they attach themselves to the projects the "leader" is doing and immediately take credit for them. Then they start a “he said/she said” whispering campaign until everyone in the group or organization hates everyone but this person. Thus this person winds up being the king of nothing.

I am determined that this will not happen to Yard Dog Press. This is the reason I have never allowed anyone to buy stock or in any way have ownership of the press. It's mine and Lynn's. It belongs to us, and I'm the KING. No one else is in charge.

Several people have wanted to buy in or buy us out – including three different corporations – since we started. Having had my fill of the whole power struggle that takes place in organizations and groups, I've decided I'd rather shut the whole damn thing down as give up even one ounce of "control."

So... if you have a problem either as a fan, writer, artist, dealer or distributor, blame Lynn – because I'm sure it's her fault.

But seriously, having said I'm KING, I now want to explain that I am a king with no subjects – and no dick. Without writers and artists there can be no publishing house. I think the big guys forget this; most probably because there are more writers and artists than there are slots or even audience.

This is the reason I can just eject anyone who's a prick, without a second thought. There are nice people, who are easy to work with, who are just as talented, so... why should I deal with assholes?

The only reason we are still in this business after all these years is because of the really great people we work with.

YDP belongs to Lynn and I, but YDP is also a community of writers and artists. I am constantly reminded of what a talented and really fine group of people I have the pleasure of working for and with. Oh, we've had a couple of assholes slip through the cracks, but we have quickly weeded them out and they're no longer a part of the family –read as, they pissed me off so I won't be using them anymore.

It's important to me that we maintain this sense of community. In fact, I'd say it's more important to me than making money, but you all know that would be a lie, so... I guess what I want to say is that I appreciate the way everyone seems to work at getting along, helping each other out, and not being afraid to be part of the YDP army – or feral Chihuahuas as Rhonda dubbed us.

It's easy to cause dissention in the ranks. All you have to do is forget that you have faults and focus on someone else's. All you have to do is dwell at length on those things that bother you about a person instead of those ways in which you are the same. For instance, to yell at someone to shut up without first considering the ways in which you might have gotten on their last nerve – and yet they said nothing. If you're trying to impress someone with such behavior, you should know that it's not in the least impressive, it's just rude no matter what the situation is. (If you yell at Sherri Dean to shut up she'll hit you with moon pies, just ask John Ringo – check news for details)

The YDP community is made up of writers and artists, so you might as well cut right to the chase and say the YDP community is made up of neurotic weirdoes led by the most F-cked up wacko of the group. We need each other, we need each other as friends, but more importantly we need each other as allies to get through the modern publishing maze.

If you've never had the privilege of being at one of the Southern or Southwestern conventions where you can't throw a rock without hitting a YDP artist or writer, then you've never gotten to experience how empowering it can be to be a part of this very vital group. We support each other, sell our own and each other’s books, exchange information about what markets are open, and in general just enjoy each other’s company.

I appreciate this energy and camaraderie, which not only sends people to the dealers’ room to buy books, but also endears us to the fans – without whom we might as well be whacking off.

So... to close. YDP is a kingdom, I'm KING, The kingdom has no subjects. Any mistakes made were no doubt Lynn's fault. YDP is – above all other things – a community of writers and artists where we weed out the assholes and try to uplift one another as we sell our books and art.

Towards peace in the kingdom I ask that we work at getting along. If you have trouble with something that someone is doing, then take them aside and ask them quietly to quit doing it. If you tell your YDP colleague to shut up, you'd better have a smile on your face, or I'm going to call Sherri in with the moon pies.

We are a micro press, and right now the biggest thing that we have going for us is that we all seem to get along and work well with each other. This as much as the quality of the work we're all putting out is getting us noticed by the fans.

So... do we need a creed? Something to the effect of – A Yard Dog Press writer or artist is always clean and smells pretty. Is kind and considerate and always the life of the party. Recognizes that they are on occasion obnoxious and therefore allows for other people’s idiosyncrasies.

No, we don't need anything like that because we're not ten years old or in cub scouts. A simple rule of thumb is that in social situations – especially at conventions –don't be a prick.

Shalom,

Selina

 

Bitch #36

Whatever Happened To Simple Ethics?

So… I just got back from vacation, so I've got loads I could bitch about but the truth is we had a really good time and it's the first time I've actually been able to just kick back and relax in years. There was one thing that kept bugging me over and over through the whole trip, and it is definitely fodder for a great bitch – so here goes.

 Now my dad did a lot of shit that screwed all us kids up for... oh, at least until we all die, but he also taught us some very simple values, some ethics – which apparently the last generation has failed to learn, or my guess is they were just never taught.

 When we were kids if we went to a park or any other public place, the rule was that we not only packed out and threw away our own trash but that we picked up and threw away trash that someone else had thrown down, too. I've carried this practice into my adult life and I taught it to my son, but I've noticed an alarming development. In the last few years there is more and more trash everywhere. No one seems to be able to walk the few extra feet to put their trash in the can. Of course the problem is actually much worse than that, you see the real problem – I think – is that people no longer watch their kids at all. They haven't taught them to clean up after themselves, and they don't clean up after them. They take them to beautiful places around our country and basically just let the little bastards go.

 Everywhere we went, natural features, man made landmarks, ancient human artifacts were all surrounded in trash. But it gets worse than that, because kids could be seen doing – and you could see the damage they had done – in everything from climbing on the walls of ancient Indian ruins to pulling apart plants at a natural living museum, to touching growing stalactites in Carlsbad, to – and this is my favorite one – scratching through six hundred year old petroglyphs. Where the hell are these kids’ parents?

 When I caught a group of unsupervised kids tearing apart a bunch of plants I told them if they didn't stop I was going to break all their fucking fingers off and cram them up their nose. They stopped, but you and I both know that if the same parents who couldn't bother to watch their destructive brats had heard me, they would have blown a gasket.

 Here's what bothers me the most about this crap. Why would you go someplace beautiful and wonderful and then let your stinking kids destroy it so that no one else can bring their kids to enjoy it later? There were broken bottles by swimming areas, trash in waterfalls, and graffiti on petroglyphs.

 Here's a big clue: if you can't make your thuggy-assed kids behave, don't take them anywhere. Keep the little bastards at home in your own living room and let them draw on the walls, walk on the counters, and sling garbage all over the place.

 But there is something that bothers me almost as much as the spoilers – people who will walk by the trash and bitch about it and yet don’t ever once stop, bend over, and pick up a single piece. If everyone who isn't a filthy pig and who doesn't like to have our national treasures trashed out would bend over and pick something up and throw it away, we could keep ahead of the trash mongers. If we quit worrying about a strange kids or their oblivious parents’ feelings and yelled at the little creeps when we saw them tearing something up, think of all the damage we could stop.

And while we're on the subject of the decay of simple ethics, let me tell you how I feel about people who insist on keeping killer attack dogs but won't accept that their dog is a bred killer. All dogs are related to wolves. Mankind spent generations breeding dogs to be loyal, trustworthy pets, then some people thought it would be a good idea to breed dogs as weapons. So what did they do? They took this descendant of a wolf – who was now bred to have no fear of man – and trained it to kill. That's fine in it's place. But the same people who will go absolutely ballistic if someone has a gun will have a killer, attack-bred dog and insist that it's all in how you train them.

It's always the same thing. They will argue with everyone that the dog’s a big love and would never hurt a fly till it kills someone's pet or chews a kid’s face off (hey, maybe we need these dogs in our national parks). Their dog, their pet that they were so sure was just a big furry teddy bear, kills something and then they're always surprised. Why? These dogs are bred killers. For generations non-aggressive dogs of the breed were culled out and they kept only those dogs that were ill tempered.

I just lost my dog this way. We had Cleo for ten years, and she was still so healthy that she was hyperactive. We raised her from a puppy, and when we got her both our kids were still home. She never bit or even attempted to bite anyone, I don't even think I ever even heard her growl. She was a Shetland sheepdog, border collie mix – on the small side with a very soft mouth.

For some reason our neighbor's twelve year old daughter thinks it's necessary to walk this great, huge, black German shepherd on a leash up and down the neighborhood street in spite of the fact that she has lost control of him half a dozen times, he has not had his shots, and several people in the neighborhood have asked her not to do so.

Well, she just had to do it anyway, and of course her mother didn't try to stop her. This time when he got loose he came into my yard and killed my dog. When the girl tried to pull him off, the dog turned and bit the kid.

Now here's the deal. If my dog killed – or even seriously injured – an animal of my neighbors, I'd put the dog down. But if it bit my kid, even if it had its shots, I'd put it down and take it to the vet to have it checked to make damn sure it didn't have rabies. They, however, have decided to send the dog to live with the woman's brother – he has two kids – and watch it for ten days to make sure it doesn't exhibit symptoms.

Call me a hard ass, but I want the vicious piece of shit put down. I'm old and I've lost more than a few dogs in my lifetime, but not like this. I told her that if this dog attacked another person or animal it was all on her head, because while she might not have known before that this is a vicious animal, she sure as hell knows now.

She's of course a "born again" Christian, so there has been no apology, and after her initial offer to pay for the vet – she's on welfare, so that was sort of a hollow offer – she has offered no condolences or compensation. I asked for none, just asked her to put the dog down.

I doubt she'll even do that. No doubt she thinks it's kinder to wait for it to cause someone else the sort of grief my family has endured, or worse. I mean I love my dogs, but at least it wasn't a kid.

Face it. An attack-bred dog is like a gun, people. A gun unloaded and locked up isn't capable of hurting anyone, but slide a bullet into the chamber and give it to a three-year-old, and someone could get killed. Just because a pit bull hasn't attacked anyone doesn't mean he's not more than capable of doing so, doesn't mean he isn't going to get a fart turned cross wise one day and bite someone's face off. It's in his very nature to attack, it's what he's been bred to do.

Like guns, you have a right to have them, but keep them locked up where they can't hurt anyone or anything.

Shalom,

Selina

 

Bitch #37

Cover Your Head; They'll Kick You When You're Down

You ever get the feeling that you're the soccer ball in the game of life? That's the way my life has been for a while. The only good news that's come my way in awhile is that YDP is doing so well.

Except for the company, everything that can go wrong has and in huge ways.

Why? Because life seriously sucks, is completely unfair, and reality is a harsh mistress.

It seems to me that these days more than ever before the rich, the lucky, and the undeserving privileged few are taking everything worth having for themselves and leaving nothing over for the rest of us. 

Doors are opened for those who don't really need the help and slammed in the faces of those who not only need to get their foot in the door but also deserve it.

The world seems more askew to me than ever before. More and more it looks like all hard work and perseverance will get you are a sore body and hypertension. Loyalty? Well, that will just bite you on the ass every time.

We're taught that courage, hard work, consideration, and loyalty are the corner stones of living a good life, but that's just a giant crock of shit because ass holes are always going to take advantage of you when you are considerate, hard working, courageous and loyal.

See, assholes look at good people and they don't think, "Wow! There's someone I can trust." No they look at them and say, "Now there's a sucker; how can I use them?"

Those of us with values and ethics should just tattoo “sucker” to our foreheads. That way the assholes can pick us out easier and we'll always expect to be treated like shit so we won't be surprised when those less deserving are placed on a pedestal while we're left to wallow in shit.

Most of these assholes claim to be religious in some way, shape or form. Julia, Laura and I were talking about this in a restaurant in Boston on our recent trip to writer hell – or what some folks like to call World-Con. I said that when you peel it all away, basically all the great religions of the world come down to just one thing, "Don't be an asshole."

Now, let’s say for a minute that I'm right. How do you fuck up a concept as simple as "Don't be an asshole"? Yet some of the biggest assholes in the world are the big-shot religious leaders and their misguided followers.

As we drank green tea and ate Chinese food we decided to start the First Church Of Don't Be An Asshole.

The rules and concepts are simple, just – well... "Don't be an asshole." If you should see someone who's a member backsliding, you simply say to them, as a gentle reminder, "Dude, don't be an asshole." This will shock them back to the precepts of our faith. People who don't embrace the one true faith will be known as assholes. We will wear pendants around our necks with the initials DBAA to remind us not to be an asshole and to show assholes that we are of the one true faith. When we see an unbeliever sinning before us, we will say, "Gee! What an asshole! Who does that asshole think he is?” or the ever popular “F*** you asshole!" You would be able to express such things as, "Don't promote him, he's an asshole.” “Don't give me a ticket, you asshole.” “I'm firing you because you're an asshole.” “Go ahead, if you want to be an asshole," and no one could do anything about it.

It would become your religious right to confirm vocally that someone was an asshole. As such, you couldn't be fired, have a lawsuit filed against you, or be incarcerated because you'd be practicing your religion.

It's your right as an American to express your religious freedom.

Oh we'll still be kicked around, but now there will be huge government agencies and the civil liberties union there to defend our right not to be an asshole.

            Who knows, with just a little bit of work maybe we could even take the world back for nice guys.

Shalom,

Selina

 

Bitch #38

You lucky people!  You get two bitches this month -- it's been that kind of month.

#1

The Magic Of It All

Most fantasy just doesn't hit the mark for me, and I've known why for a while – magic. I just have trouble wrapping my head around the whole magic thing. I especially have trouble with the magic systems in which the magic is so incredibly powerful that the only way there can be any story, much less conflict, is if the characters are complete morons.

Surprisingly, though, I didn't know why magic bothered me so much until about a half an hour ago.

Let me explain. Yesterday evening the water heater was making an exceptionally weird noise, so I opened the closet it's in and found that it was listing to the side ever so slightly. Upon investigation I found to my dismay that the floor underneath the water heater was going.

Now in order to understand where I'm going with this whole bitch you must understand one very important fact – never in my life has the phrase "The floor under the water heater is breaking" not meant that I would have to fix it. So I get up this morning and start pulling out tools and supplies, and go crawling under my floor in the muddy, tiny crawl space to fix the floor – thus stop ensuing disaster. At one point in this two and a half hour ordeal, covered in mud and sweat and shmutz of every kind, I hit my head on a floor joist, and suddenly I knew why I have so much trouble with magic.

See some of you would hear the water heater pinging and you wouldn't even open the closet door. You'd call a plumber, he'd tell you that you needed a carpenter, and between them they'd fix your problem. Probably most of you would open the door, see what the problem was, and then call a carpenter to fix the problem. But very few of you would have to get on your hands and knees and crawl under the f-cking house yourself to fix it without even one ounce of help.

It's the difference between being monetarily comfortable and being broke, and it's the difference between being able to believe in magic and being completely cynical to the point that you can't dispel your disbelief.

In that moment of complete clarity with my head throbbing and with my whole body covered in shmutz, I knew exactly why.

See, shmucks like me who have always had to clean up their own messes and do everything the hard way because we don't have the money to have things fixed know that nothing ever gets done without someone working their ass off. We know there is no magic wand that can fix the floor under the water heater. It must indeed seem magical to have a problem, make a phone call, and return to have everything be as it should be without ever once having to get dirty or hurt, or racking your brain trying to figure out how you're going to replace that floor without draining and removing the old water heater – because if you drain it as old as it is there is a very good chance you'll kill it and you can't afford to replace it.

The less money and opportunity you have had, the harder it is to believe in magic. When I call them to mind I find that the fantasy novels I've liked most have been written by people who've had to change a toilet gasket or two in their lives. People who understand that you can't just wave a magic wand and fix everything.

As much as we may hate it, the truth is that a writer is only as good as their life experiences. The worse they've had it, the more challenges and diversity they've had to face, the more they have to bring to the table and the more realistic they can make even the most fanciful story seem.

You can read every book in the world and it won't give you the insight real experience will.

So... am I glad I had to crawl under my house? F-ck no! If you don't have to do that sort of shit, don't. I wish I could wave a magic wand and take care of any of the fifty billion things I have to do because I don't have money.

Does it make me a better writer? I don't have a clue. I hope to G-d it does, because if you have to do all this bullshit crap just to exist it ought to be good for something.

If you don't have to suffer and bleed to exist can you ever be as good a writer as someone with actual real hard life experience? In my opinion, no. You can't fake knowing what it feels like to be forced to do something you're not sure is possible and that you'd rather eat dirt than do. It also helps if you're a good listener with the compassion to not only hear what someone's saying but to actually feel it, too.

If you can make the reader believe you've done things you've never done and felt things you've never felt, that's magic.

 

#2

Car Insurance and Politics

 For some twenty years I have had car insurance with Farm Bureau of Arkansas. I have never been late on a payment, and I've never threatened to switch providers.

On Monday as soon as the offices open I will be changing to the cheapest provider I can find even if I have to pay more than I am currently paying.

Why? You might very well ask since most of you know that I tend to be a little thrifty. Well, I'm doing it because they have decided that they need to tell us how we should vote in the upcoming election. They want us to vote for an extension of term limits, which basically allows the big shot companies to get their puppets in and then keep them in indefinitely. They also want us to vote for an amendment to allow the state to issue bonds for super projects – sounds super doesn't it? Till you realize that this is just another way for major corporations to get their hands on your tax money by saying “We're building a plant that will make jobs”.

The third amendment they want me to vote for would “State that marriage can only be the union of one man and one woman”. But that's not good enough because it would also “Prevent recognition of same sex civil unions and domestic partnerships established in other states”.

I refuse to support, or in any way fund, a company that basically wants to work to remove rights I don't even have yet.

I'm mad and heart sick that our country has fallen to this sort of shit! Corporations blatantly telling people what to vote for is bad enough, but I think what's upsetting me the most right now is that we who don't agree with the current rhetoric and the rise to power of these small-minded, rich, arrogant pigs have been forced into a corner where we're afraid to speak out so that companies feel like they can do something like this and not lose any business whatsoever. They are obviously convinced that this sort of hateful law is just what people want. That bigger government is just what people want. I thought the hawks were supposed to be against more government interference; well, it seems to me that there is more now than ever before.

Here's the real problem. I'm changing insurance companies, but most people who will feel just like I do, won't. They'll just let it slide. That's what we all do now; we just let it slide. As long as they aren't specifically targeting us we just stand silently by and watch in terror and hopelessness as these arrogant turds drive our country into hell.

Why? Because there is a feeling of fear all around us. Anyone who dares to speak out against this president or his policies is blacklisted. They are called un-American. That's bullshit. I'm not un-American. I'm all American, and that's why I hate what these jackasses and people like them are doing to our country.

Companies think they'll gain business by asking their patrons to vote for hateful laws that serve only those hell bent on turning me and mine into the lowest class to be hated and despised quite legally, and they will think they're right because their patrons won't move on just because they disagree with their policy.

People, I'm asking you right now. Think with your head and your heart. Go and vote at the election, but above that start to vote with your wallet. Don't support companies and firms that openly state things that you disagree with, that have the gall – the utter nerve – to think they have some right to tell you how to vote because you give them your money.

Preachers are standing on their pulpits insisting that G-d wants their parishioners to vote one way or other, and people go back week after week even when they disagree with them and they give them their money so that they can continue to spew their hate.

You can go to another store, another insurance company, another church.

It's time for a change, a big change. You don't have to stand up and be counted, just don't be there at all 

Corporations run our country now, and the only way to hurt the corporations is to cost them money.

The only way to save our country from the fascists that are trying to take over is to take their money away.

It will probably cost me more money to switch insurance companies, but I don't feel like I have a choice. I'm not a dumb ass, if I startled a robber in my house and he dropped his gun, I wouldn't bend over, pick it up and hand it to him. I'm not going to give these assholes the money to campaign to discriminate against me, and you shouldn't give them the money to screw you over, either.

Shalom,

Selina

#39

You lucky people!  You get three in one!

#1

Leaks And Other Little Joys Of Life

            So... it's raining like a son of a bitch. I go out to take care of the animals and joy of joys my shop roof is leaking. What makes this so much better is the fact that I just spent several hundred dollars and a week of my life roofing the bastard less than six months ago.

So... did I do a really crappy job? What did I do wrong?

I was broke. I was broke and so I had to cut corners and do it the only way I could because while I have one small leak now I had about twelve major leaks before. I had to do something or lose my whole shop, and I kept waiting for things to break and for me to have the money to do it right and... well that never happened so I had to do what I could afford – which of course wasn't exactly right.

So now... my shop roof leaks.

And it's driven something home in a big way... I'm sick to death of people trying to cheer me up by pointing out that things could be worse.

I just want to spit in the face of every glass is half full person on earth. I've had possibly two of the crappiest years of my life and I'm tired of people sitting around answering all my bitching and moaning about the huge pile of crap I'm dwelling in by pointing out all the really great things I have.

My brand new shop roof is leaking. I don't care if it's only in one spot. I don't care that it used to be so much worse. I busted my ass and used the little bit of money I did have at the time to roof the son of a bitch, and now it has a leak. I'll try to patch that leak four thousand times and the bitch will always leak till I have twelve major leaks again and then –well I'll be broke again – so I'll have to do it half assed because I can't afford to do it right and it will be high and dry for six months and then... well it will spring that one leak and we'll start all over again.

And I don't want to be comforted by the fact that things could be worse.

You want to comfort me, want to make me feel better about every piece of crap that's happened to me over the last two years? Then give me some amazingly good news. Tell me that something I worked my ass off on has paid off in a big way or is working in exactly the way I intended it to work.

I don't care that I'm in good company because I've been black listed by Northeastern fandom, I didn't do anything to them and I don't like to be black listed. Find me someone who enjoys being singled out for persecution and I'll show you someone who's sicker than I am.

I realize that there are people living in cardboard boxes who'd kill to sleep in my leaky shop. How is that supposed to make me feel better?

Make me a list of all the things that I have that people might envy and I'll make you an even longer list of all the things I had to give up and all the hours I had to work and the hoops I had to jump through to have them. People have worked a hell of a lot less and had a hell of a lot less trouble to have a whole hell of a lot more.

And people have worked harder to have less, and that doesn't make me feel better.

I'll appreciate what I have fully when it isn't broken, duct taped together, half assed, or doesn't leak.

Selina

#2

Owning And Running A Small Press, What Every Writer Should Know

It has been brought to my attention that writers, readers, editors, and publishers as well as all those sitting in between, on top of and to the side, read these bitches, but this time I'm going to address the needs of a very small group. Writers who are thinking about becoming publishers.

            If you're thinking of making a career change and are ready to leave your writing behind to pursue publishing, then this article doesn't concern you, either.

            Here's what you should know. The simple if somewhat harsh truth is that owning a small press publishing house will hurt your writing career. I know because it's been extremely detrimental to mine. Forget about having less time to actually write or having to stop what you're writing to go through mountains of slush. If you publish you start to make enemies.

            The big publishers don't like any competition at all, so this will lose you novel sales if they link your name to the press. The attitude seems to be, "Hey they have a publishing house let them publish their own work."

            I didn't get programming at a couple of northeast coast conventions largely because they don't think there should be any publishing houses that aren't in New York... much less in the friggin' South.

            Then there are the subtle things. For years now conventions have put me on few to no writer panels and stick me instead on publishing or editing panels. This makes it extremely hard for me to sell my own work, but it's good for the company.

            Also when I'm at convention – as should be – I spend less time promoting myself and more and more time promoting the company and our artists and writers. The end result is that more people know who Yard Dog Press is and less and less people know who Selina Rosen is. This doesn't help sell my books.

            Oh... and being an editor means you now send out those rejection letters that everyone hates. So what do unprofessional writers do when they are rejected by a publisher who's also a writer? They start to trash your work out to anyone who will listen whether they've actually read it or not. Again this will not help sell your books.

            This summer as several hard truths sat on my front porch and refused to leave till I dealt with them, I made a decision to continue to write but to put – at least for the time being – more effort into the company than into my own career. It's been difficult in the extreme to delegate the coveted spotlight to everyone else and basically just crouch down in the back seat and go along for the ride. It's been great for the company; sales are on the rise. It's been great for our writers and artists; they really seem to have grown as individuals and as a group. 

            I'm sure, given time, I will adapt to being the facilitator, but make no doubt about it, it goes contrary to my nature.

            I love Yard Dog Press. I love what we've become which is something completely different in the industry. But to be honest if I had to do it over again, I'd more than probably choose my own career over the house, because I don't want to be the person behind the scenes, I want to be out front.

            So, if you're a writer that wants to remain a writer I don't suggest you go into publishing... ever.

Selina

 

 #3

Romance Novels And Other Things That Suck

                Romance has always outsold... well damn near everything else. Lately there is this huge Romance/Sci-Fi or Romance/paranormal trend, which most genre writers are at least trying to cash in on.

            I'm actually thinking about doing one myself. Why? Well because it appears that's where the money is and will be for at least awhile. While most trends in genre fiction leave as fast as they come, I think this ones here to stay for at least awhile.

            Here's my problem... I can write "romantic scenes," into my novels, I always do because, let’s face it, even the biggest butch guy on earth likes to see a little love, but the relationships are always flawed, they're never perfect. While the passion may remain till the end of a book, the "romantic" stuff usually doesn't.

            That's right. I don't know that I can write a romance novel because reality just keeps popping me in the ass.

            Let's face it, if you live long enough you will become disillusioned with love. I'd almost go so far as to say it's a right of passage. At least part of the reason why is because of the way romantic love is always portrayed in books, TV, and movies. You find your soul mate, you connect, you enter into a permanent relationship, and everything is perfect off into the sunset.

            That's just bullshit!

            We all think that's what it's going to be because that's the way it is in the beginning, just like they all told us it should be. Then one day the truth smacks you in the head. No relationship can be perfect because you're in it with another person, and no matter how much you love them eventually all that shit you thought was so cute when you first started to date wears thin and it becomes that thing that drives you completely nuts that you wish they'd quit doing.

            You swore in the beginning that they were perfect just the way they were, and you'd never want to change them, and a few years into a relationship you'd give almost anything if they would change, but you know they aren't going to because if they did you might actually have some reason to live.

            You live together long enough and the romantic part of it is just completely blown to shit by the fact that you fart in front of each other, talk to each other on the can, ask each other to pop the zits on your back, and you've seen each other puke and hawk green crap out of your noses.

            No two people are ever a perfect match for each other, that's just a myth we've been fed by the media. You can take all the Cosmo tests you want to, but you still aren't going to find that one perfect someone because as the famous book title goes, "Everyone Poops."

            I'll try to write one of these things because it could be fun, but I doubt the romance will be able to hold all the way through the book because... Well, I'm forty-four years old, and I no longer believe in such myths as unconditional love, soul mates, and perfect love.

                Unconditional love implies that you'd love someone no matter what they did or how they treated you, and I don't find that commendable I just find it stupid. Soul mates, that term just makes me want to vomit, the idea that there is only ever one person who's perfect for you seems very limiting. And perfect love? As long as two humans are involved, I don't see how this can ever happen.

            So... I'll try to ring the romance/Sci-Fi cash register, but I'll probably wind up with the skeleton for another Drewcilia Qwah novel.

Selina

 

Bitch #40

Three! Three! Three bitches in one!

 #1

 So Move, Leave, Run... Grow A Brain

            Amityville Horror was supposed to based on a real story.  Now I find that shit hard to swallow, but let's dispel my disbelief for a minute and say that it is.  So...

            I'm living in this house I just bought – with my family – the walls start to bleed and I learn that Satan lives in the basement.  Now I'm not a rocket scientist, but it seems to me the solution is simple.  Move, leave your shit behind, screw the dog, hell leave the kids if you don't like ‘em, but get the fuck out of the house.

            I'm sorry, but only an idiot stays in a house with bleeding walls and a devil in the basement.   Live in your car, hell live in a cardboard box as long as the walls don't bleed.

            I prefer horror stories where the hero is actually hunting the monster because the fact that people forget that they can relocate doesn't dispel my disbelief.  Let's see, I can stay here and die a horrible lingering death and have my soul sucked into hell or I can move out of town.

            If my TV starts talking to me, guess what?  It's going.  There's something sinister and deadly in my house, I'm leaving right then and driving to the nearest Motel Six.  If I feel like it in the morning I'll drive to the pawn shop buy the biggest gun I can and make some Molotov cocktails and then drive over and see if there's any way to save my shit.

            I'm not going to wait for the corpses to float up in my swimming pool.  I'm not going to live in the town where the old woman spook will kill my kid when he loses his last baby tooth.  Why the hell would you raise kids in a town like that?  And once your kid tells you the old bitch is after him, why wouldn't you then get in your car and high-tail your ass out of town?

            Can't get the town council to do anything about the killer shark?  Move.  Or here's a little trick, stay the fuck out of the water.  Can't get the local sheriff to help you deal with the dead guy whose still holding a grudge over what happened to him at his high school prom?  Move.  Vampires are taking over your whole town and the local law enforcement just look at you like you're crazy?   Leave, come back in the daylight with a moving van, get your shit and move out of town.  Soon the vampires will eat all those pigs and that'll show ‘em.

            And here's a question for you.  Why do they always hunt vampires in the dark?  Here's a trick, only go after them in the daytime.  Sunlight kills them, so wait till the sun’s out and then look for their lair.

            Every time I watch CSI I wind up screaming at the top of my lungs, "Turn the fucking lights on!"  They're stomping all over evidence – or could be – while they walk around looking for clues with these little tiny flashlights.  Do they not teach people how to flip a switch in forensics college, or is it a union shop and only the light switcher can turn on the lights? In which case why don't they wait for the light switcher to get there before they start poking around?

                 If Jessica Fletcher – character in Murder She Wrote – comes for a visit, you kick the bitch out or move to a different town because you know that every time she goes anywhere someone winds up dead.

            You can bet you sweat ass JB Fletcher wouldn't stay in no house with bleedin' walls. 

 

#2

 I Don't Love New York 

Well I don't.   It's a big, smelly city, where everything's super expensive and most of the people there are just flat rude.  Further they think that they know everything, and if you disagree with them then you must be wrong.  This is of course not everyone in the city, just an overview.  Don't want to piss anyone off because you know what else the typical New Yorker is?  Touchy.  They can say whatever they like to you, and you're just supposed to nod and submit to their superior intellect.

            They have the best pizza in the world, and you can get it any time you want, which is way cool.   They also have lots of cool museums and shows that you can't afford to go to.

            You can afford the pizza.

            There are a piss load of people in New York, but you know what?  Not everyone in the nation lives there, and I think that's what they have forgotten most.  New York is so huge that it's like a world all to itself.

            We've all been at a convention and heard some big shot New York-published author complaining that he's tired of hearing a bunch of “wanna-bees” bitching that they can't get published by the big houses because all they buy is crap.  They contend that it's just sour grapes on the part of the writers who aren't good enough to make it into mainstream publishing.

            Well, Mr. Bigshot published writer, you're right – and you're dead wrong.  You're right because if the New York publishing wheel that we're always damning was buying our stuff, we would no doubt think they were enlightened.   You're wrong in assuming that our work is bad or we'd get published.

            The problem is now and to a certain extent always has been the New York frame of mind.  That same old “there is no world outside of here” thing that makes us all think they're so rude when we go to visit there.

            The New York publishing wheel has always truly believed that there is only one group of people that read, but now with the number crunching corporate idiots running almost the entire show editors’ hands are tied as to what they can buy.  There will be no more risk taking on any level.  People who know nothing about the industry are deciding who reads and what they read.  No other group of people will be considered; nothing outside that box will be purchased.

            And they are absolutely destroying the genre market.  If the current trend does not change, in another ten years the market will be cut in half, and in twenty years it will be dead.  All you'll be able to buy are books written by writers whose name appears nowhere on the book jacket because they have written it for some celebrity or the nation’s newest real-life drama candidate.

            See, New York still thinks that the only people that read science fiction, fantasy and horror, are young, white, upwardly mobile people.

            They are totally forgetting that the baby boomers grew up with science fiction books in their hands, and the stories we grew up with – the stories that we loved – were packed with action and adventure, love, mystery and intrigue.  Fantastic worlds where fantastic things happened.  Books with a beginning, a middle, and an end that left us feeling satisfied and energized.

            New York doesn't believe that blue-collar workers or people in a lower income bracket buy science fiction.  They’re wrong.   We do read and would read even more science fiction if the stories were driven by characters that were actually like real people instead of the test tube, one dimensional, cardboard and plastic characters we are more times than not asked to sympathize with.  A guy with two kids and a wife, who works everyday till he's filthy and tired, does not want to sit down to relax in the evening with a book about a rich kid who's agonized and traumatized to the point of dysfunction because his father never told him he loved him when he was a boy.  Make me care about the characters and I'll read the book.  I can't care about someone who's been given all the breaks I've never gotten and am not likely to get and is still fucking up because he's so troubled by his nothing childhood "trauma."

            If I've got fifteen minutes a day to read I look at a seven hundred page book and go, "I don't think so."  If I buy the book anyway and read it, and at the end of the book I'm thinking, "And then suddenly... nothing at all happened." Not only am I never going to read that author again, but it will probably be along time before I read anything again, and if I do it's going to be something short so that I don't have too much invested if the book ends with a sucky non-ending. 

            Most of us don't live a "clean," steel and glass, city-type life.  Face it, most people work their whole life towards a goal only to find it snatched away at the last minute.  We fight and we lose.  We work our asses off and someone else gets promoted.  We're loyal to a fault and our books are the ones that get bumped.  Our neighbor’s dog shits in our yard.  We save our whole life to retire and then the economy goes in the toilet, the price of everything and especially utilities rise, and boom!  You're working the rest of your life because you can’t afford to retire.  We grew up in homes where... forget your father never said he loved you, he got mad broke everything in the house then called you in the room to clean up his mess and wound up beating you just because you were there.  Our jobs suck the souls from our bodies and leave us physically spent.  We're fat, we're underweight, we never get laid…

            In fact, most of us will live our entire lives and never catch a single solitary break.   Our lives will be lived with long days filled with horrors occasionally broken up by moments of half-assed happiness.  Most of us will never get our fifteen minutes of fame, we'll never in fact have a damn thing that was just exactly what we wanted, and if we do get it, it's a sure bet that some asshole will kill it and then spend an hour telling us why we can't have it.

            A writer writes their best work when they write just exactly what they want to write. Most writers working for the big houses aren't writing what they want to write, they're writing just exactly what they're told to write because they have to try to make a living.  They aren't sell outs; we'd all do it if we could.  I also think it's safe to say that most of the editors aren't able to buy the books they'd most like to buy because...  Well, they have to make a living, too, and if they send the publisher too many books that don't make mega bucks then they're out on their asses.

            We, the real people of America who also read and would read more if they published books worth reading, are sick to death of New York deciding what we should read.  We're tired of being force-fed shit and told that we like it.   We're tired of seven-hundred page vignettes masquerading as novels, and seven pages of descriptive narrative taking the place of seven pages of action and dialogue.  We can't stand books where the entire story is all about how the loser hero is such a screw up because he had an unhappy childhood.  Books where the most likable character is the dog who has no speaking part, because the dialogue reads like a line out of The Clone Wars.

            Our lives are hell, and we don't want to read about some angst-ridden dumbass whose bike got stepped on by a yak and he's traumatized for life.  We want to read about a guy like us, a guy who has had shit all his life and tries to rise above it as best as he can.  We want him to win in the end because we never do and it gives us a vicarious feeling of hope for the world and our own crappy lives.  We don't need angst; we already have plenty of that.

            What do we want?  Not much really, we just want our fiction back.  The stuff we love, the stuff we grew up with.  Hollywood seems to have gotten it; they're turning out the good stuff, filled with action adventure and a good laugh or to.  You'd think New York would see which Sci-Fi movies are making it and which are flopping and get a clue, but no...

 

            "People who go to movies aren't the same people who read books."

            "Then how come you sell so many media tie-ins?"

            "Well that's all they buy."

            "Maybe because everything else you print is angst-ridden crap geared at yuppie scum."

                "Yuppies in the fifteen to twenty-five range are the only people who read science fiction."

 

            You can't argue with them because they've made up their minds.  They've counted their beans and they're getting rid of all their mid-list writers because "They don't make us enough money."

            If you point out the success of such writers as Joe Landsdale, Carlene Harris and Elmore Jacobs who are obviously gearing their fiction at working class, fun loving baby boomers, they will flat tell you that their success is a fluke.

            Well, wouldn't we all like to be part of that “fluke?”

                However, because of the bean counters, Yard Dog Press is growing, winning awards, getting recognition, selling books.  Why?  Because we don't have any bean counters here.  We're printing the books you like, the things you want to read.  Our writers are writing just exactly what they want to write, and while I do give them editorial direction I don't tell them what to write.

            New York, may have all the money and the power, but if you're looking for good tight stories with a beginning, a middle, an end, a plot, and strong likeable characters, this is the place to come.

            What do we want? 

Good Fiction! 

When do we want it? 

Now! 

#3

 

The Balance of Power, We're all screwed

-- Or --

Don't read this if you're truly happy with the current administration

 About a week after the election we went to a convention.  The mood was decidedly subdued.  About 85 percent of the convention attendance were deeply troubled over the results of the election.  I was one of them, so I wasn't too surprised, what I was surprised by were the 15 percent in attendance who had voted to keep this administration.

Most of these people weren't stupid; they had their own reasons for thinking that Kerry was a worse bet than Bush.  I openly admit that I was less than happy with Kerry as a choice.  This candidate was chosen by a corporate-owned media who is happy with all they are gaining with the current administration and wanted to keep the status quo, they painted Dean a lunatic and Clark as naïve, and told the people that Kerry was their only chance at winning the election.

The media knew that filthy rich Kerry, with his way of tap dancing around the issues, wasn't likely to put filthy-rich Bush with his way of stepping on toes out of office.

But here's the thing, people, and you'd better wake up quick because the clock is ticking. You'd all better start voting one issue politics – “Who's less likely to pull your butt out of your house and shoot you on your front yard?”

Those of you who voted for Bush because you didn't like Kerry, not because you're happy with the administration, you're the ones I want to talk to.  Evil things happen in the world only because good people are silent.  If you're Republican, it's high time you take your party back.

I knew these people at the convention, know what they really stand for, and wondered how they could have in good conscience voted for this guy.  They are not religious extremists.  Most of them do not want to take away the rights of gays before we can even get them.   They do not want to reverse Roe verses Wade.   They do care about the environment.  They do care about education.  They do want something done about the high price of medical.  They don't want the corporations to take over the country or the price of utilities and gas to skyrocket.  They don't want a draft

In short, they want all the same things that we want.  So why did they vote for Bush?  Because they distrusted Kerry for all the same reasons that we did.  Because they truly thought he would be worse than Bush.

Or they were scared of the terrorists and thought Bush could save them.

My grandmother always said, "If you lay down with dogs you're going to get fleas."  Meaning that every once in awhile you better take a good look around you and see who agrees with what you're doing.

If you voted for Bush because you're Republican or you just didn't trust Kerry, look who you voted with... Christian extremists.

These people have taken over the Republican Party in a big way.  But possibly the worst thing about that is that they are unwittingly being used by the corporations to get exactly what they want.  Do you know who sponsored most of the anti-gay campaigns in this country?   Insurance companies that would lose millions of dollars if they had to treat gay couples the same way they do straights.

What does that have to do with the president?  Four years ago in Arkansas they tried to pass this same anti-gay marriage bill.  It failed by the same 75 percent margin that it passed by this time.  Why?  Because the bill had lots of financial backing from the insurance companies, and the president had basically endorsed the legal hating of gays in his State Of the Union message.

Preachers have been campaigning for this president from the pulpit for years.  I don't see the IRS going after them and trying to change their nonprofit status, yet that's exactly what happened when the president of the NAACP made a handful of anti-Bush comments.

The Patriot Act stripped us of all our rights.  Our government can do anything they want to us now.  If some of you think I'm being a little paranoid, you'd be wrong.  I'm a whole lot paranoid right now, and you would be, too, if you were me.  They pass a law saying they can come into your home, take you to jail, confiscate everything you own, and hold you in custody until such time as they decide you aren't a terrorist – all on the word of the cable guy.  Then less than six months after they pass this law the president gets on TV and starts bitching about homosexuals and awakens a whole new climate of homo hating in our country.  You'd be scared, too, if you were me.

Lastly, those of you who voted for this administration and aren't dumbass religious nuts, or worse yet you just didn't bother to vote at all for whatever reason, please take a moment to realize what you just did.  You just gave complete control of our country to people who absolutely believe that the end of the world is not only coming but is overdue.

This being the case, they aren't worried about the environment, they aren't worried about human rights or the state of healthcare or education.  They aren't worried about whether or not our people need to be dying in a war against the infidels.  After all, the end of the world is just around the corner, and the only important thing is that when God gets here he sees that we're putting the Godless, feminist, homos, and abortionists down.   That we're putting prayer back in our schools and giving lots of money to the church as we live in our power-sucking homes driving our gas-guzzling vehicles.

All is not lost.  The news media is acting like the president won by a landslide, and while that may be true in electoral numbers, it's not true at all in the popular vote.  As a matter of fact, popular vote wise the president just won by less than he lost by in his first election.

It's that close, people. 

Democrats, insist that your party run a candidate you feel good about getting behind, write your congressman and let them know where you stand on the issues.