Jennifer Crusie's Blog, page 324

New Old Books and Amberscrap

Fast Women and Faking It are out in trade paperback today. Remember the covers the brilliant Mollie designed?

Well, they're on store shelves now. Just wanted you to know.

And so this post isn't just about selling you something, here's the Amberscrap story:



When Lani moved in and saw I was overwhelmed by all the stuff in this house, she said, "EBay." So we talked about setting up a store and figured out a few rules like no exploiting fans by saying, "Hey, buy Jenny Crusie's junk" which meant creating another identity, and only putting up stuff that was at least interesting. Then we started to brainstorm how we'd do it and Amber and Shalamar (Amber can't spell) were born. It's Amber's stuff, of course, so she'd get to describe it although Amber's daughter Shalamar is the one who gets the store name (Amber's Crap) and who would add all the important details like size and condition. Then we spun this huge back story about Shalamar growing up with a mother like Amber, and what their voices would be like–oddly enough, we traded voices because Amber's is peppy and happy and Shalamar is the Voice of Doom in the background–and what Shalamar's kids were like and how she got them, and Amber's checkered dating past which would come up often in the descriptions. It was fabulous. And it would have taken way too much time. So all we ever actually did was this:

Amberscrap: http://amberscrap.com/

I'm looking at that hideous folk dress now and thinking, "Hmmm. Amberscrap." But really, there is no time. And I still have the brass bird candleholder that falls over a lot. But REALLY, there is no time. Or there's . . .

NO.

Although how much fun would that be?

Mary Stella and St. Anthony For the Win

So I checked the Argh comments and answered them, went back to the dashboard to check links, and saw that Mary Stella had just posted the St. Anthony chant. Cute. Then suddenly the dogs wanted out, so I took them out onto the terrace and thought, Okay, retrace your steps one more time. Nothing. So I walked around the edge of the terrace where I have not been since last spring and there it was, leaning against one of chaises on the river side. It sat out there through a rainfall and a snowfall, but it's waterproof nylon and everything is fine. I just don't know how the HELL it got there unless St. Anthony dropped it off from the other dimension it had fallen into. So now I stand in awe of St. Anthony and Mary Stella and Argh Nation in general. Thank you all very much.

Must go light a candle to St. Anthony now.

No, I Still Haven't Found It

Day Four: Supplies are running low but my team stays strong and loyal.

Of course, that's because there's still plenty of dog food; dachshunds are not deep. ("Is there still food? We're good.") Lani buys me groceries so that helps but this is moving into more and more surreal territory. No matter where I find the damn thing now, it's going to be an anti-climax ("It was under something"), plus the guilt from having so many people worry about it is really upping the pressure, particularly casting down people in the Mother Country. I'm hesitating to call on St. Anthony because if that doesn't work, there goes a religion.

On the other hand, I'm finding things I forgot I had. For example, I have a glue organizer. You know those black canvas organizers that you're supposed to put all your craft stuff in? I have one just for glue. I had no idea I had so many kinds of glue. I had no idea there WERE so many kinds of glue. And mine are so well organized. Then I unearthed a vintage green and yellow embroidered folk dress. Ugliest thing I've ever seen so it must have been from eBay because I would never have traded money for it in real life. And then, for some unknown reason, I kept it. I don't understand myself some times. That's goin' to Goodwill. I also found a jar of jam in my crochet basket. Well, one of my crochet baskets. No, I have no idea why. I'm not even going to guess because that's nothing but weird. Which, coincidentally, will be the name of my store when I open one to sell all this stuff I've accumulated in sixty years: Nothing But Weird. Then there was the bag Lani used to carry Mona around in when she was a puppy. It's full of belly bands, which are basically designer diapers for dogs. Veronica's all had skirts. I don't know why I thought that would work. So progress is being made. Just no purse.

Returning to the hunt now. Be strong. No worries. Nothing but good times ahead. Try to think of something else.

Das Purse. It's lurking here somewhere.

Reasons Why I'm Not Blogging Tonight

1. I LOST MY PURSE. I had it on Saturday because Lani and Krissie and I went to the new JoAnn's and spent a fortune, and then Lani borrowed the car on Monday to take Krissie to the mall because her car is gurgling, so I had it inside the house then, and now . . . nothing. It's not in the car because I checked, and I have searched everywhere on the first and second floors (I didn't take it up to the third floor, haven't been up there in weeks) and it's gone. I will be searching until I find it because the damn thing has my life in it. My wallet, my phone (now dead, of course), my latest crochet project, Lyle's vet records, enough Kleenex to get me through any allergen that comes at me, my extra gloves, and the pretty shoes that hurt my feet if I wear them too long but I didn't want to leave them in the car. This is not a small bag, but it has evaporated. ARGH!

2. Tomorrow is Sweetness's birthday. I intended to do the last of the shopping today but MY PURSE IS LOST so I'm going to have to think fast here. Also I have to make her a Wiccan dollhouse. I got the kit and it has 46 million pieces. Thank god I did not put the instructions in my purse. WHICH IS LOST.

3. Lyle refused to eat the special kidney food (and I can't say that I blame him) so I went to the canine kidney group on Yahoo and got a recipe and he loves it. But I have to cook it. Well, I have to make rice and then mix in hamburger and squash and pumpkin and green beans and egg white and then nuke the whole thing, which takes awhile but it holds him for three days except that we ran out tonight and I didn't have the stuff to make it BECAUSE I LOST MY PURSE, so Lani ran out and got the ingredients and I cooked and Lyle ate.

4. The mess on the third floor has reached critical mass so I have to clean. Fingers crossed that as I clean I FIND MY LOST PURSE.

5. I have to read Twyla Tharp's book on creativity because we were supposed to discuss it two weeks ago so I'm a slime there, and The Circular Staircase by Mary Roberts Rinehard because that's the Gothic Book Club that starts on the first. I think I'm going to treat myself with that because I remember liking it a lot and I can get it free on the net because it's out of copyright. It's also free on the iPad so I'm sure it's free for Kindle, too. Maybe that will take my mind off my LOST PURSE.

6. If I'm a good person, I'll figure out how to make Sweetness's cake from scratch tomorrow while they're all out whooping it up. I'm staying home to finish the dollhouse and FIND MY PURSE, so I'll have some time while they go look at RVs (Sweetness and Light think the RV sales place is Disneyland) and go to Friendly's and then see a movie. I will be up to my butt in glue gun and tiny pieces of wood by then. In fact, I may wimp out and give her an IOU because I can't get to a store and get silver stars because I LOST MY PURSE.

So anyway, I can't blog tonight. Sorry.

If you see my purse, let me know.

SEP and HG: Together Again

Susan Elizabeth Phillips sent this to me with a note that said, "You're mentioned in this." Which meant I had to watch it and then post it here. Susan Elizabeth Phillips is no dummy. She's talking with Heather Graham who is fabulous but whom I evidently insulted at some point because when she got her Lifetime Achievement Award, she thanked a lot of people (well, everybody loves Heather) and then said, "And Jenny Crusie who taught me that it's okay to be a bitch as long as you're funny." I'm pretty sure that's a compliment. It might go back to the cocktail party before that when I looked at the stunning, spangled electric blue dress she was wearing and said, "Only you could wear that." I meant it as a compliment, as God is my witness, she looked spectacular, but given my general sour delivery I can see where she might have been unsure. (See also "Well, it's all downhill from here," and "What did the Amish ever do to you?") Anyway, Heather is fabulous and her new series sounds terrific, and Susan is my role model although I do think that while they were talking about wimping out on getting tattoos she could have mentioned that I have two. Because I am not a wimp. Sigh. Here's Susan and Heather, being fabulous:

Video by Katherine Pickering. Slander about me forcing my opinions on her by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

It's an Argh World

Every time a disaster hits, I worry about the Argh people there, except most of the time I don't know where "there" is. I know Strop and Ag are in England but I'm not sure where (Yorkshire for Strop, maybe?); I'm betting Brussel Sprout is in Belgium and CologneGirl is in Germany, but I could be kidding myself; I know we have several people in Australia, but that's a whole continent; and I don't know where the hell Marly and Ryan got to (phone home, guys). And then there's the USA Arghs, they're all over the damn place. So I thought, "We need a map." Then I thought I'd better run it past you before Mollie spent hours making one.

So here's what I was thinking, which would obviously be completely voluntary: You'd e-mail your username (not your real name) and your location (nearest big city is fine) and we'd put you on a clickable map that would look something like this:

. . . except since Mollie would be doing it, she might spiff it up some. (Click to see a larger jpg.) And then if we had any more disasters, we'd know where to focus our good vibes and prayers and requests for reassuring comments that say, "It's okay, I'm fine." We would not want to put enough information on the map that people could actually find your house; that would be bad. We just want to know that you're not in the middle of the next earthquake, tornado, tsunami, wildfire, hurricane, flood, famine, or political campaign. Also it would be fun.

But I wanted to run the idea past all of you before I turned Mollie loose on it. Would a map be useful? Dangerous? What are the pros and cons? Poll to the right if you're taciturn, comments below if you want to discuss.

Squalor on the River, Now with Less River

This is going to be a lousy post because it's been a hellish week (not as bad as Japan, of course, and YAY MICKI'S ALL RIGHT!), so this is all updates.

The river's going down, and the roads we need are open again.

Lyle's been diagnosed with Polycystic Kidney Failure which is irreversible, untreatable, and fatal. We have no idea how long we can keep him going by treating his symptoms, but we will as long as he's happy and living a good life. That includes Lani and Alastair giving him subcutaneous fluids every night for which they deserve the Roommates of the Century award. When he becomes so sick that his days are miserable, we'll let him go. Lotta crying on the river this week.

SMP is being an absolute champ about marketing the re-issue of MTT in trade paperback which includes an e-mail coupon (more about that later) and several giveaways and lots of other good stuff. I love my publisher. Also, there's an offer to option Agnes that Bob's for and I'm unsure of, so there's negotiating going on.

I'm still grotesquely behind on the book, but Krissie is here now (YAY) and that always inspires me to write. Lani and Alastair and I worked like crazy all day to get the guest room set up for her, and she loved it. Then she e-mailed me a little while ago to say that she lay down on the bed for a couple of minutes to rest and fell asleep for hours. Now she's thinking of spending the whole week in bed. Those Tempur-Pedic mattresses are killers. Or as Krissie says, "Wicked."

We're all writing like crazy this week but there are some must-dos on Krissie's list: new glasses, Steak 'n' Shake, the new JoAnn's, plus she's checking out the new brother-in-law who, since he's a Scot, owes her fealty (Anne Stuart, Queen of Scotland); Alastair, no dummy, got down on his knees and kissed her hand. Then Lyle has to go in on Friday and Monday for shots, but with a little tiny needle so no trauma. Fingers crossed it's a good week; it always is when Krissie is here.

So we've got less river, more information about Lyle, and Krissie with us again. Me, I'm still reeling and I get a little weepy at times, and Lyle is getting cuddled to the point where he thinks he's God, but otherwise, everything is fabulous here at Squalor on the River. And Micki's all right! It's not nothing but good times ahead, but for now, it's close enough.

Squalor on the River, Now With More River, Part Two

Today we are at 55 ft. But no tsumani. Puts everything into perspective. Plus the dogs are on watch:

And here are two pictures to compare to yesterday. See, we're still FINE. Because, you know, no earthquakes.

(Click on the pictures to make them larger.)

Squalor-on-the-River, Now with More River

I love living on the river. It's like natural Valium, 24/7.

Until it rains a lot.

The river is rising and while I'm about 75% sure it's not going to be a problem for us, it's still exciting. At 57 feet, the river comes through the fence into our back yard; today it is at 54. (Actually, our back yard extends out a lot farther than that, but it's at the bottom of a mini-cliff so we don't go there.) At 61 feet, the first floor of the house has tadpoles. The Big Flood of 97 hit 65 ft and put counter-height water into the rooms that are currently my bedroom and kitchen. (No, I didn't live here then.) So attention must be paid. If it crests at 56 ft. as it's supposed to tomorrow morning, we'll be annoyed because our road to civilization will be washed out and we'll have to go up the hill and into the off-grid roads (do not go there without GPS), but we'll be dry. Other people along the river won't be so lucky, so we count our blessings.

At the same time, Lyle is refusing to eat the special diet for dogs with kidney failure, so I'm going crazy trying to get food in him. Actually getting food in him is not a problem: put hamburger, dog cookies, cheese, or chicken jerky in front of him and he goes to town. I am currently mixing baby food into the canned k/d diet and he'll toy with that. Then he goes out to terrorize the moles. Well, he thinks he's terrorizing them. My theory is that they're down in the tunnels, laughing at him, although that's bound to change once those tunnels fill with flood water. (Laugh while you can, monkey boys, the river's comin' for you.) For a dying dog, Lyle sure is perky. His fave part of the day is 8PM when we go upstairs and Alastair and Lani put a needle into him and pump him full of water. He actually jumps up on the chair and wags his tail. We think it has something to do with the Azodyl capsule buried in a lump of cheese, given to him after the subq by Alastair, or as Lyle thinks of him, Cheesus. Lyle worships Cheesus.

And then there's the book, which I think is going to be really good, once I get my head completely wrapped around it. It's like I was expecting a cute baby boy and then I got to the delivery room and got triplet girls carrying a spindle, a measuring tape, and a pair of Fiskars. It takes some recalibration. While I'm watching the river rise and mixing liquified ham into Hill's k/d.

So I thought what I'd do is post pictures here daily so you can see the water rise for the last (please, God, let it be the last) two feet. In the future, possibly pictures with Lyle in them, trying to eat a water-logged mole instead of his k/d.

It's an interesting life here at Squalor-on-the-River.

Taken at noon on Thursday, Mar. 10; river at 54 ft.

Oh, and by the way, tell anybody who threw junk along the river bank any time in the past decade that they can come pick it up.

Internet Marketing: What Works On You?

Mollie and I have been talking about internet marketing, what works, what doesn't, what makes us insane, and in particular, how nobody knows nothing. Well, some people know something, but mostly it's all guesswork. It's come up because there's an in-house publicist who wants us to use the e-mail list (and the JCF list and Argh and FB) to announce that Maybe This Time will be out in trade paperback shortly. I maintain that all the people on the e-mail list, the JCF list, Argh, and FB knew when it came out the first time so saying, "Yo, it's coming out again," is a bad idea, especially since we'll be doing the same thing in the fall when the mass market comes out. I think that if we're going announce this AGAIN, there better be something new with it, like a coupon for 10% off or a picture of Christian Kane naked (I've been watching Leverage) or the answer to the meaning of life (42 according to some people but I think it's dogs and chocolate). There's no point in banging people over the head with old news trying to sell them something and there's a lot of reason not to (and how have you been annoyed on the internet today?).

Which brings us to the internet marketing in general. I think the internet is great at starting buzz but too often what happens is just hype. Buzz is when the person next to you says, "Hey, I read this book, it's fabulous, you should read it" (if the person next to you isn't the author). Hype is when the author/publisher sends out something that says, "BUY THIS BOOK IT'S FABULOUS AND WE WANT TO MAKE A LOT OF MONEY." Buzz is warm and fuzzy; hype is some marketing department humping your leg.

So I'm going for buzz all the way, but it's more complicated than that in that I think my goal is different from my publishing house's goal. SMP wants to sell the book (and good for them and may they have wild success with that). I want to build a readership; that is, I'm just as happy if people check the book out of the library or buy it from UBS as long as they like it and tell other people they like it. So I'm a lot more concerned about getting the word out to the right audience (people who might like my books) rather than the widest audience (all people who read), because I want to create a lot of good buzz, not annoy people who don't like the kind of stuff I write. I'm just not sure how to do it. Which brings us to you.

What do you think? What works for you? On you? What annoys you as opposed to what makes you go look for the book? What happened the last time you read or saw something on the net and you went out and bought a book? I have some theories, but I'd rather have some real life examples.

Oh, and the trade paperback of MTT is coming out. Sometime. I think next month.

I really do need to do better at this marketing stuff.