Lorina Stephens's Blog, page 6

Review: Ship of Theseus, by J.J. Abrams

Ship of Theseus by J.J. Abrams
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

More of an artifact than a literary work, a choose your own adventure for Generation X and Millennials, I found reading the novel as a literary work difficult because there was so much else going on with postcards and maps and memorabilia, lots of distractions which took me away from the primary narrative, and as a result, to my great shame, I found myself dismissing the novel, labouring to return to it, and in the end, leafed through it like some relic found in my grandfather’s chest, rather than a work of fiction.

And more’s the pity. I think the publication was more of an attempt to dazzle and market, rather than to present a well-crafted story. Might have better been marketed as a Mysterious Package than a literary work.

Still, if you like that sort of thing, I suspect you will very much enjoy this adventure. But for his aulde pharte, it just kind of fizzled.

View all my reviews

Another 5-star review for The Rose Guardian

Goodreads review

Friend and colleague, Michéle Laframboise, left this quite astonishing 5-star review of my novel, The Rose Guardian, on Goodreads.

I bought The Rose Guardian after reading the opening at the end of in Dreams of the Moon.
it was riveting. Intriguing, family tensions at the funerals of the main character’s mother. I had to know more! I bought the book and waited until I had finished some projects before starting to read the Rose Guardian.

In a vastly populated publishing landscape, many excellent writers are often overlooked. Lorina Stephens is CanadaLit’s best kept secret.

Her spellbinding prose kept me guessing as I dove headfirst into the psychological woes of an aging artist who deals with her estranged mother’s passing and the roses business. And as Violet discovers her mother’s journals and secrets, she is visited in her Manitoulin home by a strange little girl who shows an uncanny talent in drawing. Who is she?

The narrative flows between the harried mother’s journals dating from WWII, the present day-to-day artist’s life, with many details about the craft that visual painters among us will appreciate (I have done watercolors, but never this elaborate!) and a little unnamed girl who grows in her Ma’s shadow and gives souls to every being in her reach, and talks to a majestic Roses bush in the garden, the titular Rose Guardian.

The unnamed girl looks with hope at the clouds building up, seeing boats, waiting for them to take her to a place where nobody hurts. The mother, who has endured abuse, resents her solitude (“Find a successful woman and you’ll find a lonely one. Where a man shows leadership and decisiveness, in a woman it’s called arrogance and bitchiness.”) The watercolor artist composes with the ghost-child visitations, an estranged husband who still loves her, a possible interview by a major media outlet (oh, the weight of appearances!) and the cruel self-interrogations of her worth as an artist, another thing this reader related to.

The three mysteries entwined more and more in the novel, we get to understand the mother’s tribulations, the mysterious ghost-child, and the unnamed girl who has to grow up… and abandon her golden dreams.

The prose is rich and delicate like a cloud lining:

“Silence drifted in the house, comfortable, eloquent.”
“I was struck by the aromas of my trade: the fungus smell of watercolour papers, the citrus-sharp pungency of oils and turps and glazing mediums.”
“Only now did I understand that, accept it, recognize the shift on the political map of my life.”

The story is about the complexity of a human soul, the relations, and the mental prison we build for ourselves, against an outside world full of hurt. It is about art, too, about the female artist condition (oh, the weight of appearance, bis!) about too-tight clothes (oh, the passage about the torturing shoes) and a host of concerns, and friendship, resilience, acceptance. Life is imperfect, but we have to cope with, and eventually transcend the limits, to find closure.

I loved this book for this gradual poetic construction, of shades and lights in the characters with an artist’s brush, and for the exaltation of the beauty of Manitoulin Island (which I hope to discover for myself soon.) As I closed the book, I shared this desire of the soul to fly out towards an horizon crowned with golden clouds.

Thanks, Michèle. I am quite astonished.

The Rose Guardian is available in trade paperback and ebook through this website, and your favourite online bookseller. Hopefully this autumn I’ll have it available in audiobook as well.

Update on Google AI narration

I knew there would be a glitch

And there is. While Google’s AI narration platform is a slick and seemingly user-friendly interface, it would seem the audiofiles are not to the standards of ACX. Amazon’s audiobook producer platform doesn’t much like AI narration, and has flat out rejected the files I remastered (to meet ACX standards) because all audiobooks must be narrated by a human being.

This is fascinating

In light of the fact not only has Google developed and is actively promoting the use of AI narration, and allowed users to download the files and use them elsewhere, it would seem Amazon (which owns ACX) is flexing some muscle, but one has to wonder why? Is this a pushback? Is AI narration in the offing for ACX? Certainly the AI narration seemed good enough for Kobo. So what’s up with ACX? One has to wonder. That ACX might be holding their standards higher is definitely a possibility, but not one in which I put much credence. Bottom line is Amazon is as considerable a behemoth as Google, so I cannot help but wonder if this isn’t simply some sort of proprietary protection and trade war.

Market share to be considered

Given sales statistics by audiobook platform, it behooves not only me, but any audiobook producer, to consider the following, gathered in part through Booknet Canada.

Amazon Prime/Kindle Unlimited 31%Audible (also owned by Amazon) 27% (so, combined Amazon share is 58% of the market)Google and Kobo share the remaining 42% (at the time of writing I could not find statistics for either of these distributors)With apologies to my followers

It would seem I’m still going to have to create my own audiofiles for my titles in order to have them available through Audible, Amazon, and iTunes. For now, however, if you’re hungry for a quick audiobook fix, I do have audiobooks available for the following titles on the following platforms.

And the Angels Sang : Google, Kobo Caliban , Google, Kobo, Audible, Amazon, iTunes Dreams of the Moon : coming soon From Mountains of Ice : Google, Kobo, Audible, Amazon, iTunes The Rose Guardian : coming soon Shadow Song : Google, Kobo, Audible, Amazon, iTunes

More audiobooks!

Profound changes in audiobook production

I’ve ventured into the territory on the map which says: here there be dragons!

Say what? Well, it’s like this. You may have read on my blog about Google’s entry into some pretty remarkable, if also a bit disturbing, voice AI offerings for audiobook production. For the moment the service is free. Rest assured it won’t be forever. They’ll get us all hooked, like they did for businesses using their business apps, and then suddenly give short notice that the free component will sunset (who the hell comes up with these terms?!) the free program, and the only way you’ll be able to retain use of any of your applications, data and interface is to pay for a subscription. But I digress.

So yes, there’s this technology Google has developed which allows an audiobook producer to use one of Google’s AI generated narrators to narrate a book, all for free. You can choose from several accents, genders, even age range. And while Google recommends their AI for non-fiction books, because of the lack of inflection in the AI narrations, the voices are also quite acceptable.

Why would I do this rather than work on my own production?

It’s simple economics.

I spent in excess of 40 hours producing the audiofiles for Caliban myself. It was a steep, although enjoyable, learning experience. So, add those hours to the years it took me to write Caliban, and then the cost of producing the layout (perfectly capable of doing that myself, but at the time I was busy, and financially flush) and cover, we’re looking at some serious time and expense. Audiobook sales which resulted from Caliban since it’s release January 2022? Zero. A big fat whonking zero.

So, the math is simple. I can either spend a lot of time producing my own audiobook for zero sales. Or I can use Google’s AI and produce an audiobook in under three hours and still have zero sales. Seems pretty clear to me.

And the bonus in all that is I can earn even more nothing because Google allows you to download the AI generated audiofiles and use them in other distribution channels. There is no exclusivity. At least for now. So, that means I was able to effortlessly upload those files to Kobo.

ACX is another matter

ACX is the publishing portal for audiobooks streaming to Amazon (which owns ACX), Apple and Audible (which Amazon also owns). Their production standards are very high and exacting. It would seem Google’s AI production doesn’t meet those standards.

That has meant I’ve had to remaster the Google files in order to meet those standards. I’ve now completed that process and successfully uploaded all that. The audiobook is now under review by ACX, and in 10 business days And the Angels Sang should be available on Amazon, Apple, and Audible.

It is now available in audiobook from Google and Kobo, if you want to head over there and listen to my collection of short fantastica fiction. You can also read And the Angels Sang in trade paperback and ebook. Purchasing options are on the collection’s page on my website. Oh, and there are some pretty cool reviews on the collection’s page as well.

And while your at it …

… why not leave a review of the collection either in the comments for this blog post, on social media, or the retailer’s site from where you purchased it. Tell you what, if you take a photograph of yourself reading the print copy, I’ll post it here and on my Facebook page.

Closing keynote address Editors Canada

Was very pleased to be the closing keynote speaker for the 2022 Editors Canada conference held May 29 and 30, 2022.

Below is my address:

I’d first like to thank you for inviting me to be one of your keynote speakers. Given my somewhat reclusive nature, and the still present concern regarding this pandemic, it’s a pleasure to meet you all virtually.

Today I’m going to talk about: Editing for a Changing World: A Perspective on the profession of Editing, and how the social, political, and environmental changes that are happening now may influence our work as editors today and in the future.

In order to know where we’re going, we need to know where we’ve been, or rather what work we’ve done historically. And in order to understand that, we need to know what we are. So… what exactly is an editor?

The Oxford Dictionary defines an editor as a person who is in charge of and determines the final content of a newspaper, magazine, or multi-author book. The OED also offers: A person who commissions or prepares written or recorded material for publication or broadcast.

By that definition, as editors we’re gatekeepers, the arbiters of information, knowledge, and art. By that definition we also curate and cultivate a body of work for public consumption.

But how did we get there? It’s not like the first Paleolithic pictograph painters were recording history under the guidance and influence of an editor. Or the court records of the Gonghe (gongusheh) Regency of China in 841BCE were handed off to a copyeditor to check for spelling and grammar, let alone verifying facts. And it’s also not as if editors tut-tutted and asked for revisions when some Viking carved runes onto a stone proclaiming some feat or ownership. Bjorn was here. And in the margins: we don’t know who is Bjorn.

So, let’s delve a little deeper into our development as editors.

If we look at the origins of the word editor, Oxford further offers: Mid 17th century from Latin, ‘producer (of games), publisher’, from edit – ‘produced, put out’, from the verb edere.

Hold on there: games? So, editors came up with senet, adjudicating how it is Egyptians should throw their sticks?

I know, I know, I’m being awfully literal here. But the etymology of the word is fascinating. It still begs the question, however: how did our profession come to exist? And given there is that tantalizing reference or possible origin of our trade from the mid 17th century, it might lead one to the conclusion ours is a rather more modern profession.

Perhaps the answer to that can be directly linked to the evolution of printing and accessibility of books. Seems obvious, yes? Well, maybe not. Before Gutenberg’s remarkable and seminal printing press, we had the scriptoria of medieval Europe, let alone the printed works prior to that of the Eastern nations of Persia, China, and India. At that point books were laboriously copied by hand onto vellum or parchment, and depending on region, papyrus, not only for use by other religious and political institutions, but also royal gifts from one potentate to another, or among the aristocracy and the wealthy merchant class.

To own a book was an event of note. In Europe, the privileged class were known to hold a parade or procession to display to the town, the guilds, the brokers of power that here was an individual to be reckoned with because they’d commissioned and now owned a book, a piece of art, not just knowledge, which represented perhaps years of toil, tricked out in brilliantly coloured illuminations, gold leaf, boards encrusted with plaques of precious metals and bulging with gems.

Certainly, this flagrant display of power was exercised liberally by the likes of the 15th century figures of the Duke of Burgundy and Lorenzo de’ Medici.

That this volume costing a lifetime’s wages for the average labourer was also filled with unedited and uncensored marginalia, often ribald, frequently politically rebellious, rife with liberal interpretation of the original text, was an all-too-common occurrence. Either there were no proofreaders or editors, or they ignored political and heretical statements, and for the most part sank back into the anonymity of their orders and their monastic lives.

But then, indeed, there was Gutenberg, and after 1436 everything changed. Books could now be produced in multiple copies in a short period of time, and in order to standardize and economize the process, the first protocols of grammar, spelling and format quickly came into existence, and along with that standardization, the need to template production. So it was manuscripts came before the eye of a proof-reader, an editor if you will, who set about creating uniformity in spelling and grammar for the typesetter. How words were spelled, and the conventions of grammar, often varied from press to press, thus creating what we now term today a house style guide.

The evolution of editorial process saw its own renaissance during the 18th century as the middle class rose, and with that accumulation of wealth, and thereby leisure. And hand in hand with that change were the social reforms which mandated children receive education, albeit more for the males than females. With a more educated populace, the rise of the novel as well as broadsheets followed.

Now educated individuals were employed by newly established publishing and news houses to ensure uniformity of style, and consistency of spelling and grammar, in order to create a quality, consumable product for their customers, customers who themselves had the benefit of education and a desire to explore ideas, concepts, and often simply to escape into the dream-world of literature. And among these houses, and their editors, a broader convention of grammatical uniformity came into existence.

In those days an editor’s job was primarily to satisfy a customer base, and in doing so selected or commissioned manuscripts which met that house’s own particular brand. While that branding may sound familiar and modern, it was a new industry and profession in the 18th century. We, as editors, firmly established ourselves as the gatekeepers and arbiters of literary style, not just conventions regarding uniformity in how language, literature, and information was presented, but of content. It is we who decided what we’d print and sell, and what we wouldn’t.

And so our job description expanded, as did the categorization of various facets of editing. There were those who acquired and edited. And there were those who proofread.

One could also say these early houses were also the original vanity presses, because a segment of their custom were individuals who had written a book or novel, collected recipes, ventured into poetry, a travel treatise, a political, scientific, philosophical essay. The writer often sought patrons to offset the cost of printing, when the house was reluctant to take a financial risk on the acquisition of the manuscript, not unlike today’s Patreon, GoFundMe, or other such platforms. Such is the case with Hannah Glasse, an English cook most regarded for her book, The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy, which went on to become the best-selling recipe book of the 18th century, and remains in print today. I own one such copy. Fascinating stuff.

And it was these early houses and their editors who set the standards upon which modern publishing was built, part of which was the imperative to turn a profit in order to keep the house, its employees, and content creators in coin.

The rise of publishing in the 19th century saw likes of editors such as Harriet Farley, the American writer and abolitionist who was also editor of the Lowell Offering, a monthly periodical of poetry and fiction by the female textile workers of the Lowell Mill.

John Lovell was another of the 19th century’s editors, printers and publishers, who established the Canadian Times and Weekly Literary and Political Recorder in Montreal and later the Literary Garland, which was the first successful literary magazine in North America, and the first to pay its contributors.

Forward then into the 20th century and the likes of Frederick Warne & Company, who published Beatrix Potter’s books. And Richard Bentley who published Susannah Moodie’s Roughing it the Bush, still considered today an insightful memoir of Moodie’s pioneering experience during the 1830s in what is now the Peterborough region of Canada. It is interesting to note Charles Dickens was then editor at Colburn and Bentley — Moodie’s publisher — overseeing the well-known periodical Bentley’s Miscellany.

Thereafter the role of editor became firmly established, with the position primarily encompassing acquisition and copy-editing.

It wasn’t until the 21st century that editors took on the role of developmental editing, mentoring if you will, or as we term it today, writing coach, with the likes of Edward Garnett (for D.H. Lawrence, E.M. Forster, and Joseph Conrad), Pascal Covici (for John Steinbeck), Anne Olivier Bell (for Virginia Woolf), and Max Perkins (for Ernest Hemmingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Thomas Wolfe.)

These editors, and others like them, played a seminal role in what the general public were reading, adjudicating style, art, and content. They helped to shape voices, bring what is now legendary content to the public, and create the architecture of what was to come.

From there forward the role of editor changed dramatically, creating several levels of editing we still employ today in mid to large publishing houses:

·         Copy-editor·         Acquisitions Editor·         Developmental Editor (Writing Coach)

This was the golden age of publishing, with editors playing roles of greater importance in not only curating what a publishing house would release to the public, the conventions of language, grammar and spelling, but in shaping the craft of writing.

It is that latter role, that of the developmental editor, which requires a deft hand, because go too far, and the editor has indelibly imposed their creative vision upon a writer’s art. Become too restrained, and a writer may become blinded by their love of language, as was the problem with Thomas Wolfe.

It is as a developmental editor the role of mentor very much comes into play, requiring not only an intimate knowledge of the art of literature, but of effective communication, of developing a relationship of trust with the writer, and acquiring a broad understanding of the world, material culture, societies, and more, in order to inform editorial decisions.

In my experience as an editor of some 30 years, there are many aspects of the profession I have come to regard as paramount.

One of my first experiences was as an assistant editor with a country lifestyle magazine in the 1980s. The senior editor, who was also the publisher, wasn’t particularly organized, nor an effective communicator. It fell to me to develop a publishing schedule for the quarterly magazine, and I was instructed to comb the filing cabinets for stories which had previously been submitted in order to come up with content for forthcoming issues. What I found were articles which were sometimes years old, no correspondence, and a publisher who felt it was perfectly acceptable just to simply publish these articles without consultation with the authors. If the authors couldn’t be contacted, then we were to publish the article under a pseudonym. When I started muttering about good business practice, and copyright infringement, the response was: no one cares about that.

Well, I cared. And from there forward I established open, honest communication with the journalists we published, created an editorial lineup, and assigned articles for themed issues. No more stolen articles. No more ad hoc publications.

It was also under my direction that articles were fact-checked, something which to my horror had never been previously undertaken.

All of these aspects of being an editor are simply part of the job, and part of good business practice. And frankly were all part of the role of editors in the 20th century.

My time with the magazine provided invaluable lessons I carried with me throughout my life as both an editor and a writer, and later as a publisher. During those decades I witnessed significant changes occur in the industry, not only in what was expected of editors, but of what was happening to publishing. I will address some of those changes in a moment. But for now, allow me to relate more personal experiences with regard to editors and their role.

By the turn of the 21st century, self-publishing had lost some of its stink, and technology was such that instead of a frustrated author having to face enormous expenditures in bringing their book to print, it was possible to do so on a small budget, with relatively easy to navigate technology. Indeed that catalyzed my own foray into self-publishing, and being aware I should exercise due diligence, I employed the services of an editor, someone with letters, apparently knowledgeable, allegedly credible.

When the edited manuscript came back to me, I was a bit surprised. There were several text changes and queries which very much spoke to a lack of understanding on my editor’s part of historical material culture — all aspects any editor would either research to verify facts, or know because of a broad acquisition of knowledge. And then there was the slavish adherence to grammatical conventions — conventions it should be noted which are important — but also without regard to artistic literary license. Imagine what would have happened if e e cummings’ editor had insisted upon capitalization? Or more currently if Michael Crummy’s or Ondaatje’s editors became slavish about using quotation marks for conversation rather than em-dashes — a modern aesthetic, I should note, I do not find palatable.

As to the edit I received, I’m afraid I erupted into laughter. Call it hubris: I ignored the edit.

And once again, experience informed my approach to editing when I established my own publishing house, a house which went on to publish roughly 100 books by 32 authors. That experience as a writer particularly influenced my approach when I worked with an author about a subject about which I was not well-informed, or an artistic structure which required broader thinking on my part. I took it as my responsibility to learn about that subject, to query the author about anything I was unsure about in a non-confrontational, relationship-developing manner. Always better to assume it is your lack of knowledge first, acquire the required information, and then make a decision.

But that was then. This is now.

As with publishing changes which occurred at the turn of the 20th Century, so there have been profound changes in this 21st Century. Two changes of significance to consider are:

CapitalismTechnology

So let’s deal with capitalism, or better known as: Bigger is better; more is more.

By the time Western society was protesting the war in Vietnam, celebrating the miniskirt, sexual freedom, calling on a second wave of women’s rights, the publishing industry had hundreds of houses, and scores of major houses. Books were more about blockbuster bestsellers, with acquisitions editors now under pressure from boards and shareholders to sell millions of copies of a single publication where before thousands had been a bonanza. So it is an editor’s role as a mentor — or to use current vernacular, a writing coach — diminished to a great extent. And it was then the role of the agent came to the fore, replacing editors in major houses as gatekeepers and curators.

However, that shift also gave rise to the vibrant community of medium and small presses, where the role of an editor still retained the responsibility of mentor and curator. That, also, was about to change.

Why? Technology. Or put another way: we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.

By the time 2001 swept in, there were seminal technologies which would forever change the culture of publishing, and the influence of editors. Those technologies had to do with quality, rapid print-on-demand processes, and a distribution system which was affordable, expansive, and inclusive. No longer did an author have to run the gauntlet of agents and publishers, of fighting for royalty statements let alone payment. In those early days, for an extremely modest fee, often under $100.00, an author could bring a book to print, and then achieve distribution to major book chains, through the services of forward-thinking enterprises such as Lulu — which was a forerunner — then Amazon, and for the more enterprising, Lightning Source Inc, among others. All offered global distribution, some of those to booksellers outside of their corporate empire.

Editor? Many authors didn’t bother, mostly because of cost considerations. That still remains true some 20 years later.

Then add into that mix the rise of e-book publishing, and the resulting wave of consumer acceptance, followed by audiobooks.

And while all that was going on in the book industry, there was another fundamental shift which occurred mostly because of digital technology, and that’s in periodicals and newspapers. We became a culture of free. And if it wasn’t for free, there were digital hacks so you could read whatever you wished for free, listen to whatever you wished for free, watch whatever you wished for free. Why pay the corporation? And that mindset completely ignored the creators at the other end who were left out of any financial return on what was often years of work.

The resulting shockwave is still being felt. All those shifts resulted in a new geography. It meant periodical media faced severe loss of sales and profits. That meant all the freelancers and staff writers faced successive rounds of firing squads, and along with them went the editors for the most part. No longer were articles carefully scrutinized by a copyeditor, and for the more sensational of periodicals even fact-checking by staff editors became an unaffordable and irrelevant luxury.

Small newspapers and magazines were bought out by the juggernaut of big business, which further reduced the requirement for writers and editors by syndicating content, much in the way every large retail chain has the same canned music in the background, all curated to deliver a point of view or result. We’re seeing that happen now in the music industry with platforms like Spotify, Amazon, and Google. But it could be argued publishing was the first creative industry to be hit and forever changed by corporate agendas.

Very likely there are many such former periodical writers and editors sitting in on this session, all of whom attempted adaptation by freelancing editorial services, riding on the wave of small and medium publishing houses, and the explosion of self-published authors.

Which brings me to the self-published authors. At exactly the same time print-on-demand, and digital self-publishing technologies rose, those large publishing houses started morphing under the demands of shareholders who insisted upon increasing returns. It’s pretty much the same in any industry: doesn’t matter the product, or what the actual market dictates, shareholders often refuse to accept reality and insist on ever higher sales and returns expectations. I’ve seen it happen over and over again, especially with start-ups who seek investment capital, and then find themselves chained to unrealistic shareholder expectations.

In the publishing industry, that meant reducing overhead, cutting the midlist, and feeding the very monster that is killing them. According to industry statistics, and as reported by Rob Errera, there were 1.5 million new titles published globally in 2021, with sales of $92.68 billion. And yet that industry only employs 315,731 people globally. The major houses went from the Big Five, to the Big Four, and it is rumoured to become the Big Three if lawyers can find a way around monopoly restrictions.

Where do we as editors fit into all of that? Not sure. History and my own instincts tell me we had better have a sound boat and navigation ability in order to be able to sail these waters, because relying upon traditional strategies isn’t going to work. One need only look at any of the myriad job postings for editors on platforms such as Linkedin. Many of those firms are in fact looking for content creators, not editors, and most of those at some very entry-level remuneration.

It seems almost ludicrous there are more books being published in any format than any time in history, and yet writers are making less money, and along with them the industry supporting the literary arts. That means in part us: the editors.

And this shift in the industry of creators affects the arts across the board, not just writing, but graphic art, music, and to a certain extent actors being replaced by CGI. We live in a world which is morphing into something ersatz.

Scrying the Future? I’m afraid my attempt to find a path which includes the health of our positions as editors isn’t optimistic. Now, along with the rise of all manner of AI technologies — just look at what Google is rolling out by way of believable and realistic AI narrators for audiobooks, at the moment for free — so it is editing software is now commonplace, often available for free, and becoming more and more intelligent to the point a writer can enter a concept, and the software will suggest story avenues to follow, and correct grammar and spelling along the way.

There are a plethora of sites listing the best 10- or 12-word processor alternatives to MS Word, all of these being freeware packages offering built-in spelling and grammar features.

What’s more there are now AI driven script and story generators which will essentially write a story, and even spell and grammar check. Deepstory is just one such platform.

Why require an editor? For that matter, why require a writer?

As a mentor, a writing coach? There are templates for that. And let’s face it, quality of writing is no longer a prerequisite for sales, as long as what an individual puts out to market fits within the top-selling categories, and the algorithms in that marketing strategy maximize exposure to potential readers. I know of one particular self-published author who actually does pay the bills from what they write, but it also means they churn out a minimum of a novel a month, all of the novels following a formula designed to put their many pseudonyms in front of readers, and not one of those novels has had the eyes of an editor. It should also be noted that they’re very canny about what name they use on what social media platform, in order to further game the system.

So, it’s not about quality, or hiring an editor. It is about maximizing exposure and sales. Sort of the mini-version of what the Big 4 are doing.

According to US industry statistics from 2020 for sales by genre:

·         Romance/Erotica ($1.44 billion).·         Crime/Mystery ($728.2 million).·         Religious/Inspirational ($720 million).·         Science Fiction/Fantasy ($590.2 million).·         Horror ($79.6 million).

And that’s in an industry where total net revenue in US book sales was $25.71 billion USD, of which $1.3 billion was audiobooks, and $191 million was ebooks. If self-published books are included in those statistics is hard to say, but I expect not, as there is difficulty collecting that data.

However, exercising an educated guess, I would hazard to suggest a staggering proportion of sales in those genres are by self-published authors, most of whom don’t employ editorial services outside of the software they use.

And many of those authors are very canny about stacking algorithms in order to maximize exposure for their titles, as I have already said, because in the end, for them, it’s all about income, not about a quality product, and that is not to say many of those authors have become editors in their own right.

Where does that leave us as editors? I’m not sure. Many of us left the sinking ship of periodical writing and editing to become freelance editors. Now it would seem our services as editors are becoming obsolete, much in the way many trades faded from existence like the cooper, the fletcher, the rag and bone collector, even the typesetter.

Will there still be work? Yes. But less of it, with less remuneration, because there are more of us, and competition for those editing gigs is going to become brisk, or replaced by some form of AI. It is perhaps rather telling that many of the literary award winning, much acclaimed writers are now offering writing workshops, or bringing to market their own books on how to write, and even offering editorial services. So, do you want to stack your exposure against the likes of Joseph Boyden?

Again, using an example from my own community, there is one young author of my acquaintance, only 26, who has had their first novel published by one of the subsidiaries of the Big 4. One novel. And now they’ve hung out their shingle as an editor. Because having edited your university newspaper, and published one novel, qualifies a person as an editor.

What does that say about the industry as a whole? There are definite signs of what being editor has, and will become when you look at job listings for editors. Those listings are really looking for content writers who can self-edit, willing to work for low wages. I’d suggest everyone involved in the arts is scrambling to adapt to this new world. Yes, there are mores sales, but those sales are being shared by a larger population of content creators. Bigger pie; smaller slices. So, if you’re not looking for lucrative employment, but instead a sideline which may, from time to time, throw up some income, then stick with editing, especially into retirement. But as my parents, and those before them used to say: don’t go into the arts; there’s no money in it.

And that concludes my oh-so-cheery keynote address at this your 2022 conference. Given the message, I’m glad this is virtual, because messengers are often executed.

Joined the team at Essential Edits

A great editing service

I’m pleased to add my editing services to the skillful team at Essential Edits. My services there are as a senior editor/writing coach, specializing in Canadian Literature.

What is Essential Edits?

The team of editors at Essential Edits came together as part of an initiative by Robert Runté, who is a former editor with Five Rivers Publishing back when the house published some 30+ writers. Robert’s vision was to establish an editing service portal, drawing upon the expertise of Canadian editors with a wide range of experience, and offering an affordable service to writers in all fields.

I look forward to being part of the team, and offering my experience and expertise to a wider community.

Come join Pulp Literature Launch

Say what?

Apologies for the short notice, but just received this information from Pulp Literature. There’s an online launch Saturday, May 14, 2:00 PM EDT. The launch will be streaming live from YouTube at https://youtu.be/-5sqJKV0gHk

The audience is encouraged to post questions and comments during the launch, so tell your friends not to be shy.

What’s this to me?

I have a short story in this issue of Pulp Literature, Would We Had Time. And I’m very pleased to share this issue with authors Mel Anastaiou, Hurricane Nancy, Mitchell Shankin and Douglas Smith.

Hope to see you there!

 

Keynote Speaker at Editors Canada Conference

I’m very pleased to announce I’ll be a keynote speaker at the Editor’s Canada Conference May 29, at 4:00 PM.

Aerin Caley, former editor with Five Rivers Publishing, interviewed me recently for the conference. That interview is below:

Lorina Stephens didn’t start her career in writing and publishing. She has been a manager and bookkeeper for companies as diverse as a civil engineering firm, Faberge of Canada, and her own custom glass installation company. She has also created and sold historically accurate clothing patterns and has explored other arts such as sculpture, printmaking and painting (which she started at the age of 14 under the tutelage of artist Dorothy Milne Eplett).

She began her formal writing career as a freelance journalist, amassing experience with several local publications. In 2008, she founded Five Rivers Publishing, with the goal of providing a voice for Canadian authors. The backlist of 100 publications, from 32 authors, includes works by Nate Hendley, H.A. Hargreaves, Ann Marston, Dave Duncan, and C.P. Hoff, along with her own works. Her vast range of life experience informs her own written works, which span genres from science fiction to contemporary ghost stories, cookbooks and guidebooks.

Editors Canada is delighted that on Sunday, May 29, 2022, at 4 p.m. ET, Lorina will give the second keynote address at our virtual conference, Editors 22: Editing for a Changing World.

(This interview has been lightly edited.)

Aerin Caley: What book has Five Rivers published that you’re most proud of and why?

Lorina Stephens: There are so many books I was proud to publish, but the one that stands out has to be Nate Hendley’s, The Boy on the Bicycle: A Forgotten Case of Wrongful Conviction in Toronto. It is the story of the wrongful conviction in 1956 of Ron Moffatt, who was 14 years old and in the wrong place, at the wrong time — and subjected to a coerced confession and fumbled police investigation regarding a brutal and heinous murder. I had always been pleased to publish anything from Nate, because his research is excellent and his writing incisive, and in this case his exposé helped Ron to obtain a formal apology from the provincial government in 2019.

I’ve always believed in championing the underdog, in supporting social justice, so Nate’s book was a perfect manifestation of that paradigm.

AC: What one piece of advice would you give editors, from a publisher’s viewpoint?

LS: I think the best piece of advice, from a publisher’s perspective, is to keep your hands off the creative framework of an author’s work, and to read and understand a wide variety of topics in order to better inform your editorial decisions and comments.

In the case of the first point, I think it’s important to understand what the author is trying to say, how they’re trying to say it, and why. Art is, after all, subjective, and what may be to your taste may not be to another’s. So it’s important to achieve that fine balance between effective communication and the latitude required to create startling art.

An understanding of artistic latitude and an understanding of the workings of the world are, in my opinion, essential to being an effective editor.

AC: Did your work as a publisher change your approach to writing?

LS: I would have to honestly say it was the other way around. Being a writer helped me to understand how to effectively and meaningfully create powerful and lasting relationships with the authors I published. It gave me a deeper insight into the creative process, and definitely informed business decisions such as when an author was running behind on a deadline, because I’d been there myself. I already was a very disciplined and organized writer, and it was that discipline and organizational skill that helped me create a vibrant and empowered team. I don’t think I could have published as many books, on such a wide variety of topics and in so many genres, had I not had that experience as a writer and as a freelance journalist.

What did change my approach to writing was when I started working as an editor, because I was picking up on errors and possible refinements I was guilty of myself. And that, in turn, helped me be a better publisher, as well as a better writer.

AC: Your latest release was Dreams of the Moon; are you working on anything new?

LS: I smiled when I read that question because I’m always working on something new. If I can’t be creative in some fashion, it’s like not being able to breathe or drink or live. Yes, yes, I know that sounds oh-so-very artistique. But it does happen to be true.

As to the particulars of what I’m working on in the field of writing? Well, there’s the new opus, Hekja’s Lament, which is an historical tragedy based upon the settlement of L’Anse aux Meadows circa 1021 CE and a reference to a slave in The Vinland Sagas.

Two of my short stories will make a debut this spring, one in Pulp Literature, called “Would We Had Time,” and the other in On Spec, called “Water Rights.”

And, of course, I’m recording an audiobook of my latest novel, The Rose Guardian.

AC: Can you give us a teaser of what you’ll be talking about in your keynote presentation?

LS: Well, given the theme is editing for a changing world, it will be about exactly that: about societal and technological changes that affect the business of editing — both historically and presently — and how we, as editors, can continue to evolve. Or at least my perspective on the world and our place in it.

Thanks very much for this opportunity to be one of your keynote speakers. I’m very excited about that, and about furthering the cause of literature in all its forms.

To hear Lorina’s upcoming keynote speech, please register for the 2022 Editors Canada Conference.

My art in Owen Sound

The Owen Sound Art Banner Project

The Owen Sound Art Banner Project is an annual street art exhibition showcasing the works of local artists on street banners displayed along Owen Sound’s harbour walkway. Artists from Grey and Bruce Counties are invited to submit their work each year.

Patrons are invited to sponsor these banners for $100.

Since 2009, the Owen Sound Art Banner Project has been proud to celebrate the talent and success of local art community by showcasing artists’ works on professionally produced banners throughout Owen Sound.

The Owen Sound Art Banner Committee is a group of local volunteers actively building broad support and participation in the project. In addition to adding artistic value to the downtown street scape, this exhibition increases tourist interest and civic pride in Downtown Owen Sound and the surrounding area.

The banners are funded by art patrons, who receive them at the end of their public display period. This process keeps interest high, and creates an annual stream of fresh images.

Why am I telling you this?

My watercolour painting, Spruce Bog, has been accepted for the display, and I couldn’t be more thrilled.

Spruce Bog

If you’re interested in sponsoring this banner, and then owning it at the end of the season, just follow this link.

Of course, if you’re interested in acquiring the original, the link to that is here.

And should you be touring the West Grey region, and dropping by Owen Sound, would love to see a photo of the banner, and you! You can either leave that in the comments, or email me an image, or even post it to Facebook if you’re on that platform, and let me know you’ve done that. The banners should be on display from June 5 through the summer.

Origin of the painting

Back in 1991 Gary and I were teaching a photography workshop at Agawa Bay Provincial Park. On our way home that early Monday morning we spotted this spruce bog off to the east side of the Trans Canada Highway where it leaves the shore of Lake Superior and winds through the remains of ancient mountains, lakes, black spruce and granite rock. Mist was rising off the bog, the light pale and fragile. It was like a scene from the beginning of time. We stopped, and I took a few hasty charcoal sketches. Later in the fall, working from my booth at the Orangeville Farmer’s Market, I started the painting. I remember clearly one older fellow tromping through the market who paused and peered over my shoulder, harrumphed, and commented I was no artist, but rather someone who did paint by number. I stood there a bit like a gaping fish, quite flummoxed. It was probably best I hadn’t fired back with some rejoinder. I wonder what he’d think, if he’s still even walking the earth, should he learned of my remembrance of his comment and the fact this paint by number will be reproduced and hanging for public appreciation in Owen Sound this year.

Regardless, I’m pleased with how the painting turned out, and delighted it will be on public display this summer.

Review: In Veritas, by C.J. Lavigne

In Veritas by C.J. Lavigne
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

I came to C.J. Lavigne’s debut novel through the recommendation of a friend, with expectations I would find this tale one into which I could immerse and engage. But, alas, it was not to be.

Certainly this is an ambitious novel in that Lavigne chooses to tell this story from a foreign and difficult point of view, that of a young woman who experiences her world through the lens of synesthesia. While Lavigne certainly achieves that experience for the reader, it also works against the narrative of the story to the point someone who is not a synesthete finds themselves lost. What is known is in fact unknown in this story. The fact a car horn tastes like chocolate mint is irrelevant, unrelatable. Does the fact the horn tastes like chocolate mint mean that chocolate mint is a warning? A threat? Or just background, um, flavour? But, then, how do you find the voice for such a story with such a character? I’m not sure. I just know that for me, this voice didn’t work. It was too much. Too foreign. Unrelatable.

And because of that alien experience, Verity, whose voice commands the story, remains a foreign character, one for whom it is difficult to feel pathos, even though you are aware she is worthy of your empathy. Yet even while she is this unknown, unknowable person, she is also one who lies despite the assertion Lavigne makes in the novel that Verity does not lie. But she does. In the beginning it’s lies of omission. In the end it’s outright falsehood. And she’s a thief.

So, that’s all strike one for me.

The second problem for me was the lack of world building. In this story (spoiler alert), people who are gifted with abilities often deemed mental illness by society, are somehow physically and mortally threatened by the world. Just how that is a fact is never really quite made clear. Is it like having an allergy to electricity? Again, who knows? It just becomes a tale of of US against THEM. Apparently Them (who would be people like me) are killing Us (people like Verity). Their lives are in danger. So much that there are secret, magical retreats these gifted people have created between walls, places of sanctuary, however shabby and reminiscent of ghettos.

And that’s where the whole story really falls apart for me, and we come to a big fat third strike. There are scores of people in this story who open a door that isn’t there, step into the between, and live there in the walls. But how is that achieved? How do they live? There is never any mention of kitchens, or plumbing, or bathrooms. While there is a pseudo angel of healing, who cannot fly and is lame, there is never any mention of how those beds and mattresses and couches come to exist in the between where this angel performs his miracles in his miserable misericordia. Who set up this hospice? Who set up these dormitories?

And while food arrives in plastic bags, there is never mention of how meals are prepared, things like ranges for cooking, or ovens, kettles or microwaves, toasters or can openers, or how to wash dishes. Let alone bodies. Do people eat at tables? On the floor? Is this canned food slurped with spoons from the tin? And where does the garbage go? How do they relieve themselves? What about menstruating women? How are clothes cleaned? Or are there no problems in this magical between regarding lice or bed bugs, rats or cockroaches?

Again, how do they live? There are lights, but from where does the power come? Or are these places between lit by candles or gas, or some other? This world of Lavigne’s has never been fully realized. It simply exists between the walls (how much space is there between walls, or is this alternate reality something like a Time Lord’s tardis?) How do you get a bed between walls?

I won’t even begin to touch upon Lavigne’s apparent tacit support of anti-medication for mental illness. That’s another whole issue which left me twitching with anger and outrage. And my fourth problem with the novel.

The fifth problem is short passages in which Lavigne completely breaks the tension of the narrative for an intrusive character soliloquy, written in first person, present tense, typeset in a different colour (at least in the ebook version) and different typeface. It’s such a bad formatting gimmick, like someone new to layout and agog with all the thousands of choices of typefaces. I remember editing one such book in which the author had chosen no fewer than six different typefaces to denote different characteristics. Just no. And there is no identifiable reason for these character intrusions. It all just completely arrests the tension. In my opinion, the novel would have been stronger without these flashy, pretentious attempts at the avant garde.

Then we come to the great denouement, the sixth problem, which is so utterly predictable: the big battle between the Big Bad and the Great Good and the Pathetic Good (sounds like a D&D game), or put another way: the power-hungry and angry disenfranchised gifted people, the meek and suffering other gifted people, and society at large. It’s a three way war. The Great Good are going to bring it all down: the gifted meek, the ignorant and maliciously oppressive society. All of it. Wipe it into — what? That’s never made clear. We just have people standing around invoking magical energy that threatens to bring everything down. Snowstorms. Ice everywhere. I was minded of a novel by Charles de Lint. Maybe it has something to do with Ottawa snowstorms? Who knows?

It’s all just so silly. So predictable.

Yet I have friends and colleagues who quite liked the story, some of whom thought it was brilliant, others as simply entertaining. Which is why art is so very subjective. Lavigne’s story worked for them. For me it didn’t.

But, I suppose, if you’ve read enough of my reviews, you’ll know that I’m not easily pleased, a critical and grumpy reader always looking for the flaw.

Still, seriously, how did that society work?

View all my reviews