G.A. Albrethsen's Blog: Age of Restoration, page 5

Sick of romance? Me, too!

I made the mistake of taking a good look at Amazon’s top 100 paid Kindle books list last Thursday.

I know. Call me a glutton for punishment.

Don’t ask me why. I had this silly notion—which I still find to be valid, sadly enough—that it was important to know what people are reading. The easiest place was the top 100 list, since there aren’t top 500 or 1,000 lists that might serve to broaden out the data a bit.

Well, after creating an Excel file with categories which include title, author’s name, price, publisher, genre, publish date, number of books the author has written, reviews received, average rating from said reviews, page count, the author’s gender and how many days in the top 100, I then went about colorizing data points so they could be analyzed at a glance.

The first thing I colored was genre. I wanted to see if a particular subject was dominating the top 100, or if there was a fairly even distribution of subject matter among readers. To my surprise and chagrin, it wasn’t even close.

In the sampling I took from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m., Thursday, fifty-one of the top 100 paid Kindle books were in the romance category. Most of those were listed as contemporary, with only a few adding things like historical, western, YA sci-fi, paranormal or comedy. In fact, some authors tried to classify themselves as family sagas or women’s fiction, which was interesting, as the titles of the books and their covers were firmly in the romance category. So, were they trying to hide the fact their books are romances, or were they trying to distinguish their work as more than that?

I don’t know. I was already disheartened, so I didn’t go digging into that any further.

The next category with the most entries was thriller or suspense. Sometimes mystery was a part of their categorizing, too. In all, there were seventeen. Of them, only one book was self-published. The rest were from well-known authors, such as Dan Brown—at number one with his latest Robert Langdon book, Inferno—David Baldacci, James Patterson, Sandra Brown, and William Landay.

Non-fiction books had six entries, literary fiction had five and humor had four, to round out the top five genres or categories.

Back to romance.

Of the fifty-one romance titles that were in the top 100 at the time, twenty-seven of them were self-published works. There may have been more indies, but it was hard to tell immediately since a publisher name was listed. I did try to hunt down those I didn’t recognize, but in some cases, the results were inconclusive. The next largest publisher of romances was Laree Bailey, thanks to six H. M. Ward novelettes or full-blown books that had cracked the top 100, including one book that was yet to be launched. After that, Montlake Romance, a division of Amazon itself, was among the highest, with three.

All of the authors of the romance novels, unsurprisingly, were women. There were, however, another twenty-five authors of works of different genres that also made the list, all of which were women. In other words, only twenty-four men had books in the top 100.

After sharing this information with my editor, she wondered if this was just a passing fancy, and if there would be a wider array of genres in future top 100 lists. Without sampling over a period of time, it would be impossible to say. Since Thursday, however, I have been keeping an eye on the top 100 and the Romance category to see if there have been any seismic shifts.

The answer is, not really. Over the weekend, the top 100 ranged from 40-49 Romances in the top 100, and then another 39-44 in the next 100 (101-200). To see beyond that would be difficult, as I went into the top 100 Romance novels to determine how many books fell into the next 100, and ran out of books before hitting No. 300. Said another way, the top 100 Romance novels were well within the top 250 of all paid Kindle books.

As of 12:25 p.m. PT today (Monday, May 27), 40 Romances were in the top 100, and an additional 43 were in the next 100.

My conclusion about all of this?

I’m not sure, other than I get the feeling I need to take the Romance genre more seriously. I don’t know exactly how I’m supposed to do that, but one thing seems certain—while my data sample is very small, apparently a lot of money is being made in romance.

Sigh.

True charity is this

Last Friday night, as I was passing through the living room, I caught less than a minute of one of the reality shows currently on television. I don’t know which one it was, but here’s the gist of what was taking place:

A man and a woman were sitting down talking to one another. They were fairly far apart, which may have been to accommodate the cameras. The man did most of the talking, and told the woman, who was obviously genuinely grateful, that he was going to give her money to get her bachelor’s degree (she already had an associate’s degree) and in addition to that, he was going to give her two children money toward future college educations.

As I said, the time I actually saw and heard any of this was pretty brief, but it was enough to form a general opinion of what took place.

If I were in the woman’s shoes, how relieved I would be that there was someone caring enough out there to see my desire to work and to better myself to help me out. Sometimes, lifting yourself up from the bootstraps can use a little outside assistance.

The other thing I got out of it was, how much I love being the person who gives.

I have been on the receiving end of gifts. When it’s unexpected, coming from someone you don’t know or at a time when it seems things are at their bleakest, being the receiver can be a little overwhelming. You’ve done all you could, but your best just isn’t good enough (at least not at that particular time), and pride or just a no quit attitude can make the receiving tough. It can bring on feelings of guilt or even failure. But it can also bring on a sense of wonder that anyone would be thinking about you, let alone take the time out of their own lives to do anything, especially something meaningful and substantial.

There were tears in both the man’s and the woman’s eyes. In fact, the man started to choke up before he could even get the words out that he was helping her. I know the feeling.

I think too often these days we look at those who are well off and think they are ruthless, unfeeling jerks. How many people did they crush or climb over to get to where they’re at? By them being so rich, how much did they take away from others to get it?

Maybe that’s true in some cases. I’ve never thought that myself personally, and I’ve never been rich, though I have been told I was a time or two. It’s all relative, really. Anyone who makes more money than you, has fancier or nicer things than you, can seem rich. Then when you get there yourself, you realize, you’re only two or three paychecks away from financial disaster, instead of just one.

To me, though, you’re not really wealthy unless you have a loving family and caring friends around you. And you’re not really rich until you’re willing to give up at least a portion of what you have. Because you want to, not because it’s expected, or because you’re coerced to, but because you’re moved to compassion. You feel it.

The exchange between the two people Friday night was personal. It wasn’t like giving a donation to a charity organization and having no clue where your money really goes. It certainly wasn’t like paying taxes to the government. It was just two people. One with a dream, and another with the means to make it happen.

I’d say two dreams were fulfilled Friday night.

Scandals? So what?

I don’t think many will be happy with my thoughts regarding the “scandals” now circling the Obama White House, but I do want to say something about them, even though the subjects have been beaten to death already.

I watched the Benghazi hearing with the three whistleblowers. I caught some of the IRS hearing last week. I believe there was also one for the AP phone tapping, but I missed it for the most part.

I guess I question the revelation timing of the latter two, just as Benghazi was finally being put on the forefront of the national mind. And I guess, I can’t escape the question and requisite shrug that keeps replaying in my own mind to all three:

“So what?”

It’s not that I don’t care. I do. Deeply. What I mean is, I don’t think enough people in the federal government or the general public care. Until they do, nothing of consequence will happen.

Seriously. Do any of us actually paying attention to this, honestly believe that something significant will come out of any of this? Not while those in Washington, DC, and in the media, see this as nothing more than a 200-plus year old game of partisan politics.

Instead of really wanting to know who did what in the case of Benghazi, because four Americans died and less than satisfying answers have been given as to why, the question most raised has been, does this hurt Hillary Clinton’s chances for a presidential run in 2016?

As far as the IRS scandal is concerned, the official being raked over the coals last week wasn’t even the head of the department at the time the auditing took place. No, the person who was in charge is now heading up the IRS division that will deal with the Affordable Care Act, aka Obamacare. The biggest question to come out on this so far is whether or not it was illegal for the IRS to do what it did when considering the applications of conservative, religious and other groups seeking tax exempt status. When asked, the acting director of the IRS answered that it wasn’t illegal, it was “inappropriate.”

Well, whoopee doo.

And as far as the AP having 120 of their reporters phones, emails, etc., wiretapped and read, who knows what’s going to happen there. Plugging a leak with national security ramifications through questionable means (at best) seems to be trumping freedom of the press.

Of the three, my guess is, the AP scnadal will go nowhere the most, since the media doesn’t hold much sympathy in the public eye (they’re about as trusted as Congress is), and because Attorney General Eric Holder has an ability to wiggle his way out of situations. In this case, he simply recused himself of the matter.

Well, I guess that’s it then. Move along citizens. Nothing to see here.

Unless some higher up officials decide to turn whistleblower, and they can come with the paper trail, the voicemail or the hidden video, nothing much will happen, and those of us who care will be left wondering what really happened. Instead, everyone will get away with what they’ve done, and will be able to do it again at some future time. Or, if not them, their replacements.

Well, I have some other thought rattling around my brain which I need to impart. “What goes around, comes around.” If you happen to believe that the ends justify the means while your person, party, or philosophy is in power, than you better be prepared to be on the receiving end of it when the other guy takes over.

And remember, too, that those who have a tendency to get what they want while overstepping lines of ethics if not the law itself, also have a propensity for throwing people under the bus. In other words, your own can turn on you just as easily as the enemy can.

That’s why I’ll take principles, basic understanding of right and wrong, over politics, any day. It’s why I have little faith anything will come of this latest dog and pony show, and why most people choose not to even pay attention.

Sad thing is, doing so got us into this mess, and eventually, it will be our undoing. A constitutional republic like ours can not long endure without a moral and engaged electorate. We are own worst enemy.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

I’m a social media hermit

On May 1, author Kirkus MacGowan wrote a post on his Diapers, Bookmarks, and Pipe Dreams blog called “A Social Butterfly I am Not,” where he basically says it’s impossible to keep up with all of the tweets, emails, blog posts, friending of Facebook and elsewhere, and still have a life, let alone write books.

Just so you know, MacGowan has over 53,000 Twitter followers, over 800 people who like his Facebook fan page, and more than 2,800 friends on Goodreads. Pretty good for someone who’s not a “social butterfly.”

At the same time as he’s says that, however, he also talks about how important self-promotion is, that social media is the main outlet that self-publishers have.

To me, that’s true because of two things: first and foremost, it’s free (though paid ad options exist), and secondly, the reach potential is enormous. There’s just no other way to get the word out there that has the potential of reaching so many people for the price.

The point of his post, though, is this: while self-promotion is paramount for a self-publisher, and social media is the main outlet, getting to know each friend, follower or fan intimately, is not.

For me, I’ve come to realize, that’s the main reason why I have a hard time with social media. A lot of the advice you get regarding self-promotion has to do with you, the person, rather than you, the author. If you have an engaging, witty personality, people will want to follow you, and, so we’re told, that will lead to sales. People buy your products because they like you.

Well, quite frankly, I don’t want people buying my books because they like me. I want them buying my books because they like my books.

In the first place, there’s just no way people are going to get to know me enough on Facebook or Twitter or wherever to ever know how I truly am. My family and friends would attest to that, if you ever got to talk to them. I’m too guarded and untrusting of social media to get that friendly, and in my opinion, everyone else should be, too. So, why am I going to tell my life story to people I don’t even know? Or where I live, or what I had for breakfast, or what toothpaste I use?

Next, my life isn’t nearly as exciting as I try to make my books to be. In fact, my life is fairly boring, especially when compared to others, and quite honestly, I prefer it that way. I don’t like ruts, mind you, but having a framework of a routine, where you know somewhat of what you’ll be doing from one day to the next, provides me comfort and consistency. Yes, there are times where I need to break from routine and do something else for a day or two, but constant chaos or change is not who I am.

Then, there’s the old expectations game. You interact with someone long enough, you or they expect to carry on that interaction forever, which just isn’t possible. Especially if there’s a couple hundred others who want the same treatment.

In reality, the best thing that a person could do to get to know me, outside of living in my vicinity and sharing similar interests—like REAL friends—would be to read my books. No, they’re not autobiographical, and yes, for the most part, my ideas and opinions are more nuanced then what’s found in a novel, but it’s a definite start.

I don’t want followers, or fans, really. I’d love customers, and I’d love ones who don’t mind promoting the books, either. Not because they believe in me, but because they believe in the thoughts and concepts in the books, and want to share them with others.

I have but a relatively short time on this Earth. My books, though, have the potential of living on as long as there is an Earth and a way to access them. Who knows. They might not actually take off until well after I’m gone. It’s a sad thought, but it wouldn’t be the first time. At least, they’d take off, which as far as my novel writing is concerned, is my greatest desire—that they do get read, and by lots and lots of people.

I just don’t think I need to be peeking into peoples’ lives, or they, peeking into mine, for that to happen. Maybe I’m wrong. One way or another, I’ll find out, won’t I?

Thanks, Sequester!

The most impressive thing about Hoover Dam is the skybridge behind it. Amazing.

Last week, we flew out Monday night to Las Vegas. Our hotel was there, so it was our base of operations while we forayed out to places like St. George and Cedar City, Utah, Hoover Dam and Lake Mead, and a few other places in between.

It was the first time we’d flown since October of last year. In the intervening time, the federal government imposed upon itself the sequester, a device meant to cut the amount of increase the government would spend.

We were told then that the sequester would be devastating to many things the government does. However, when the sequester took effect, not much in the way of “devastation” was seen immediately. It was sometime after that, however, that decisions such as to close down White House tours, decrease some federally subsidized unemployment benefits, and furlough federal workers, including air traffic controllers, began to take place.

So, back to my travelogue. On our Monday night flight, nothing seemed to be amiss, other than a fairly empty plane (which I’ve rarely been a party to). A lot of the passengers around us were quite jovial and the flight crew went out of their way to be pleasant and to foster the festive mood.

The trip back, however, once it got underway, was much more somber. Some of it, undoubtedly, was because the trip to Las Vegas was over. This would have been especially the case for those who enjoy the shows, the gambling, the drinking, and whatever else people like to do in Vegas that they don’t get to do as much at home.

However, the number one thing dampening people’s mood Thursday evening was the 3.5 hour delay in our flight time.

We were supposed to lift off at just after 4 pm. Instead, we didn’t get airborne until 7:30 pm. My wife and I personally waited five-and-a-half hours, but there were some others who waited more, including a woman who had flown in the day before, only to be stranded in Vegas all day Wednesday and all day Thursday because her connecting flights were cancelled or delayed. She was the extreme.

Normally, I plug our itinerary into a program I have on my phone, which then gives updates on flight status. This time, because we weren’t going to be away very long, and because the flight was less than two hours, but mainly, because I wasn’t thinking in terms of 3.5 hour flight delays, I didn’t do it. So, we arrived at the airport about a half an hour ahead of the recommendation, flew through security because there was barely anyone there, and then waited at the gate other than for some wandering around we did because we were tired of sitting already and still had the flight ahead of us.

With great power, comes great responsibility. Or, you could just go shopping in Vegas.

For me, while admittedly annoying, it was an opportunity to observe how people react in these kinds of situations. I can’t say there was anyone who wasn’t perturbed by it, but there were certainly people who took the news better than others. While not happy about waiting around, they weren’t verbally attacking the gate attendant, who, of all people, had the least to do with it. A classic case of killing the messenger. To his credit, too, he didn’t give back what he was given.

In fact, there were only three or four people who noised their displeasure out loud, laced with profanity and varying levels of anger. While the minority, their outbursts did not help the rest of us feel any better.

The reason for the delay? Well, according to the pilot of our plane, the furloughing of air traffic controllers was to blame. Without them, planes couldn’t take off or land. And it wasn’t just Las Vegas, either. The plane we waited on was coming from Oakland, but it didn’t leave the ground there until around five o’clock, and then didn’t arrive until nearly 6:45 pm.

In the end, it turned out to be an inconvenience, but we did make it home safe and sound. We didn’t have to spend another night there, or wait any longer. It was not the life or death issue some were making it. However, to me, it did not improve my personal opinion of the federal government.

Sure, inconveniences happen in life. We have them all the time. But when they seem arbitrary at best, and intentional at worst, that’s when the hackles are raised. I already dislike flying. Not for the flying itself, but for all the security I need to go through just to prove I’m not a terrorist. Tack on a flight delay because someone in the government wants me to feel the pain of the sequester, well, the irritation just mounts further.

As someone once said, with great power, comes great responsibility. And absolute power corrupts absolutely. In this case, it feels more like a tantrum being thrown by a toddler. Because they didn’t get their way, everyone else has to suffer along with them.

Thoughts on acts of terror

© Jhogan | Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images

If you’ve been around the internet, social media, the radio or the television since Monday, you’re probably overwhelmed with all of the Boston Marathon bombing coverage.

There’s been plenty of tragedy over the last several months, both natural and manmade, but this marks the first time since the Fort Hood shootings, that an act of terror has come to fruition in the United States.

Yes, I consider the Fort Hood tragedy to be a terrorist act, not an “act of workplace violence.”

And, I believe you’d have to go back to 9/11 for an act of terror using incendiary or explosive devices, which actually worked on American soil or American airlines. That’s not because there weren’t attempts—the shoe bomber, the underwear bomber, the Times Square bomber—lest we forget about them. It’s because in one way or another—law enforcement, concerned citizens, dumb luck, divine intervention—those attempts were thwarted.

And while there has been reluctance to call it an act of terror, though that’s now the consensus, and while we still don’t have a clear idea of who did this—is the Saudi national a suspect, a person of interest, a witness, none of the above, in custody, not it custody, being deported on “national security grounds,” not being deported now—it has nonetheless reopened old emotional wounds and put most of us, regardless of where we live, on edge.

As if the shootings in Aurora and Sandy Hook, along with all the rest, weren’t enough.

Then we have the Ricin-laced envelopes sent to a Mississippi Senator and President Obama, an act of terror we haven’t heard about in quite some time. How many of you, when you heard about the massive explosion at the fertilizer facility in West, Texas wondered, even for a second, whether or not it was due to an act of terror?

With the killing of Osama Bin Laden, terror, and terrorist organizations, like al-Qaeda, were supposed to be on the run, at worst, and all but dead, at best. Yet, the perpetrators of the Boston Marathon bombing could turn out to be al-Qaeda linked, just as much as they could be related to anything else.

As we wait for the authorities to complete their investigation and bring whoever is responsible to justice, my plan is to keep living my life, and hoping the rest of us will, too. In positive ways. Ways that make ourselves, our families, our neighborhoods and communities, better, safer and happier. Those who implement terror do so to change behavior, and hold societies hostage. We never know when or where they will strike again, so we live our lives cowering in fear until we acquiesce to all demands and surrender.

In our case, that would mean giving up our basic freedoms as guaranteed by the U.S. Constitution, and become subservient to whatever form of rule terrorists would impose on us.

I’m just one person. I’m imperfect. Few outside my family and a circle of friends, even know who I am. Whether I make a stand privately or publicly, won’t matter much, in the grand scheme of things. I know that. But I’ve got to start somewhere, do something, regardless of how inconsequential it might be. And the only place I can start with, is with me. And to encourage others to stand with me. If most of us refuse to kowtow, to give in, to sign over all our rights to privacy and freedom in the name of security, or bow down to a different form of oppression all together, then we have a chance.

All we have to do is to live our lives the American way, holding firmly to our rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. We need to know who our enemies are, and name them for what they are. We need to know who our friends are, and treat them as such.

America, we’ve been through a lot of tragedy lately. No doubt, we’re in for more. But one day, if we live our lives with decency and dignity, we will see the end of it, with our families, our futures and our nation, secured. Until that day, I say, never forget, never give up, never surrender.

I hate counting calories

Before the age of 20, I never gave my weight a second thought.

I used to come home after school and devour a half loaf of bread and a full quart jar of home canned peaches for a snack, then eat a regular-size meal for dinner. That on top of eating a sack lunch my mother prepared. My weight stayed around 155-160 pounds the entire time.

I can’t say I really exercised. I mean, I played high school basketball all four years, and there was PE and touch football during recess, but there were also long periods of sitting in desks or chairs, or laying on my bed reading, writing and drawing, too.

Fast forward nearly 30-years later, and the extracurricular activities are pretty much gone, and I’m lucky to eat a fruit roll up without gaining weight.

Where did my vaunted metabolism go? Apparently, the way of my hair, which gradually receded, then basically retreated to the sides and back.

I know I should be more active. I can lose weight when I want to. And I know that certain foods are better for me than others.

The problem is—and I’m sure I’m not alone in this—exercise isn’t all that fun. There needs to be a purpose to it, an end result. Yes, being healthier and weighing less are all end results, but those are the long term reasons and goals. What about the short term? Watching your weight and measurements decrease, or not, just doesn’t do it for me. If I were still out on the playground running under passes or draining 20-footers from the corner on the basketball court, I’d probably keep my weight off somewhat.

Unfortunately, getting involved in any kind of team sport requires more than just me. And then, those who have the time and are predisposed to do it are considerably younger than I am, like my 21-year-old son. Most of us in our mid-to-late 40s have work, or ‘better things to do’ than a pick up game of basketball or touch football.

Then, there’s the aches and pains and injuries. Before I weighed so much, I did try to keep up with the younger guys. You just can’t play without feeling sore for a day or two afterward, and that’s even without doing anything major or suffering an injury.

So, I just kind of gave up on that. And now, to play, I wouldn’t last very long, certainly not enough for it to do many any good, like losing weight.

That means I need to change eating habits. But, that’s hard, too, since there’s generally someone else eating with me. I don’t want to be in charge of meal preparation, either. It’s not so much I don’t like to do it, it’s just the time involved, and I readily admit I am not the best cook in the house. Right now, I might be number three out of three.

I’ve got to do something, but counting calories is for the birds. I’m not totally convinced that it works. I’ve contemplated going on some kind of diet that requires you have a health coach, but there’s just something about it that puts me off. Either, they’re going to be super encouraging, like a cheerleading section, when I don’t deserve it, or they’re going to be military-style, in-my-face. Neither appeals to me, and the in-the-between probably isn’t much of a help, now is it?

Then, there’s the cost. Even if they tell you the health coach is free, I’m a smart enough businessman to know, they’re making up the extra cost in meals, or somewhere else.

I just want to be able to eat what I want, when I want. I don’t want to get fat, I don’t want to get heart disease, I don’t want diabetes. I just want to eat a reasonable amount of good food without feeling like I ate an entire cow or hardly ate at all.

I don’t need high calorie desserts every day. Once or twice a week in normal-sized portions would be nice. I can eat salad, fruit and vegetables, too, as long as they’re accompanied with something I like. I don’t need to have things smothered in cheese, butter, salt, condiments or gravy, either.

I need the metabolism I had when I was in middle school and high school. Anyone know where I can find it?

Not obsolete

Back when I was growing up, the internet wasn’t available yet, mobile communication was a CB radio, and video games looked like Pong and Pac-Man.

I was a senior in high school when the first personal computer showed up in a classroom. I was well into my 30s when the internet boom began, when companies like eBay and Amazon started changing the way we went about buying and selling things. I was 41 before the first iPhone hit the scene.

While I have been into technology all my life, thanks largely to science fiction, in many ways, I feel like the technological revolution has passed me by. When I needed to be learning computer code and soldering circuit boards, the resources weren’t nearly as ubiquitous as now, and it just wasn’t cool. It’s still not quite as mainstream as Justin Bieber or the Avengers movie, but if you develop technology today, like Steve Jobs or the guys at Google, you can be a rock star in your own right.

A couple years ago, I looked into coding for the iPhone and iPod. The iPad was just barely out, I think, which meant I was already behind the curve. I can’t say I understood all of it, and would probably benefit from a class or two, but I was able to correctly code the sample programs in the books I bought, and was developing a game of my own (albeit very rudimentary and not all that cool).

I like to create. The idea of inventing something that makes millions fascinates me. The problem, so far, has been coming up with the idea. It doesn’t have to be original either. It doesn’t always have to be the best idea. It just has to connect.

I keep dreaming. Creating something, anything, that millions will ultimately use, sounds awesome! The thought that I’m too old, or there’s no chance I’ll come up with the next big thing, drives me crazy.

But then, there’s stories like the seventeen-year-old from England who just sold his free mobile app to Yahoo for $30 million. Or, there’s the 22-year-old girl who started an eBay clothing and accessories shopping page called Nasty Girl back in 2006 which just grossed $100 million in sales. She was a community college drop out when she started the business.

Then, out of the blue, comes this story about a nine-year-old girl who, along with her mother, set up a Kickstarter fundraiser so she could go to a coding camp. She needed just under $900. She’s got over $16,000 now, and is apparently going to use the money to develop a game, too.

Those are the kinds of things I’ve always wanted to do. Not specifically those things, but the multi-million dollar idea. When I see others doing it, I take heart. If they can I, I can, right? But so far, I haven’t.

I can’t complain. I’ve had a good life. I’ve given up time and resources to raise a family. I don’t regret that one bit. But I refuse to believe the window of opportunity has come and gone before I even had the chance to take advantage of it. So, I’m going to keep up my search for the Holy Grail, keep tilting at windmills, no matter how much gravity, and reality, try to bring me back to Earth.

What else can I do? I’d much rather fail over and over, or be crushed in defeat, then never get off the launching pad, or give up. If I’m still in the game, there’s still a chance I win.

I just need to do it.

What I would do with a million dollars

Ever asked yourself what you would do with a million dollars?

I have. Lots of fun things come to mind. Buy a really nice piece of property. Go on a long vacation to Hawaii, or Cancun or some other tropical beach paradise. Invest. Fight world hunger. I might be able to do all of those things depending on how I spent it.

But, then reality kicks in.

Let’s say I have no expenses. Just earned the $1 million selling 495,050 books. (Woohoo!) No overhead this year. According to tax-brackets.org, I’d pay $312,314.50 in federal taxes and $103,597.62 in state taxes. In a literal blink of an eye, $415,912.12 gone. But that still leaves me $584,087.88. Can’t complain, can I? Still better off than many other people.

Now, if I earned $1 million in a year, I’d also pay tithing on it. That’s a choice I make, certainly, but after I wrote the check for $100,000, that would leave $484,087.88. Still not crying, but before I got to really any fun stuff, over 50% of my money is out the door.

So, now what? Am I going to make $1 million next year? If so, I’m doing pretty good. But what if that $1 million is a one time deal? Let’s say, for some reason, Amazon, Barnes and Noble and iTunes all decide they won’t carry self-published books any more, ebook or otherwise.

Might want to hold onto the leftover then, and use it to meet my living expenses.

Well, let’s see. Our family expenses are roughly $3,500 a month. That doesn’t leave a whole lot of discretionary spending, though (no meals out, no movie nights, no saving for trips, etc.). So, let’s up it $500 to $4,000. That means in a year, we would need $48,000 to cover our moderate living expenses and to cover some pretty mundane wants.

I’m an author, it’s what I do, so I keep writing and trying to sell my paperback books so I can make more paperback books so I can sell more. I don’t try to work doing anything else other than promoting the books I’ve published and writing others. Over the next ten years, I more or less break even between my earnings and my expenses, so I really don’t have anything to help with household costs. Thus, within ten years, $480,000 is spent. I’ve got $4,087.88 left over to get me through January, 2023.

Now, I can’t say I’ll live luxuriously during that period of time. I have a nice home in a nice neighborhood, but I’m certainly not jet setting all over the world or yachting or playing polo in the Caymans. Maybe I got to take my wife out to dinner twice a month, we celebrated our birthdays and Christmas, we took a trip to Hawaii for two weeks, or something similar, every year. There might be a few more things in there, but my $1 million didn’t get me very far.

Certainly not as far as what the perception of a $1 million should do.

Especially since I could realistically have 40 years to go before I die. That’s 30 years unaccounted for. According to tax-brackets.org, I’d have to make $3.5 million in order to live out the rest of my life. That’s of course, assuming 0% inflation in expenses, which of course, never happens, and the tax rates stay the same. (Good luck.)

Just for fun, I estimated how much money I would have to make each year, for the next 40, to take care of $48,000 worth of household expenses and discretionary spending. If I earned $67,000 a year from here on out, and taxes never changed, I’d have $48,832.22 annually (after tithing) to take care of things. Looks like I get a slight raise in my net! Curiously, I would only need to make $2.68 million over the next 40 years, as opposed to $3.5 million in one year.

Okay, so I only need to sell 33,169 books a year for the next 40 (1,326,760) instead of 1,732,674 in 2013.

Whew!

Liebster Blog Award

Fellow Twitterer and soon to be novelist (right? right?) KJ Waters has nominated this blog (or me, take your pick) for the prestigious Liebster Blog Award.

The first thought that came to my mind when I learned about this (via Twitter, what else?) was, “Oh, great…,” but then, KJ quickly turned my wrongheaded thinking around and now I’m overjoyed to not only receive this award, but to do ALL THE WORK necessary to promulgate and proliferate this award further.

Yes, not only am I her TweetMonkey, but I’m her BlogMonkey, too. Thanks KJ!

Sincerely, I do appreciate the sentiment, and am very happy to promote KJ’s own blog site, Blondie in the Water. It’s informative fun, even if you’re not a blonde-water person yourself. I highly recommend it.

Okay, on to some disclaiming. The purpose of this Liebster Blog Award is to recognize blogs with fewer than 200 followers (mine DEFINITELY meets that criteria) that deserve a look (uh, well, I’ll let you decide that). Therefore, as a recipient, I have four different tasks, all revolving around the number 11—list 11 random facts about myself, answer KJ’s questions, which happen to total 11, and then ask 11 questions of my own 11 nominees.

No doubt numerologists everywhere are all aquiver over this.

11 Random Facts about Me

1. All facts about me are random. It’s true. Look it up.

2. My mother seriously considered being a Sergeant in the military. Her voice carries. Fortunately, for me, she decided to marry my father instead. Thanks, Mom!

3. My wife is from Mexico. Think 4’10 (tippee toes) and not to be crossed. Mostly, she’s really nice. To other people. I should stop now, shouldn’t I?

4. I eat oatmeal for breakfast every Tuesday and Thursday. It used to be every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

5. I’ve wanted to be an entrepreneur (been doing that) and an author (got one out, book two is this close, and book three—crossed fingers, by the end of the year? Please?) for as long as I can remember. Which according to some people, would mean about two hours ago. I say, that’s pushing it.

6. I speak Spanish. See number three. I’m glad I do. You never know when it’s going to come in handy. Like surprising the heebie jeebies out of a poor Hispanic mom just trying to do some grocery shopping when this Gringo answers his wife by saying, “De veras, no me importa cuales tortillas compramos.” Just try it. Guaranteed to bring a smile to your face.

7. I’ve been to Mexico. Surprise! You’ll never guess why. And, I’m not taking about Cabo San Lucas or Tijuana, either (okay, I have been to the latter. Never again.) Let’s see. I’ve been to Mexico City, Acapulco, Puerto Vallarta, Cancun, Merida, Guanajuato, Aguascalientes, and more, along with a few archeological sites. Compare that to the only other place outside the United States I’ve been, Vancouver, Canada, and you’ll see, I’m quite the world traveler. My wife wants to go to Europe and Japan. Go figure.

8. I served an LDS-Spanish speaking church mission in Disneyland. Let that soak in for a moment. Okay, that’s good.

9. Wow, Spanish related topics have kind of dominated this list. Considering I spend the majority of my time sitting in front of my laptop doing variations of what I’m doing here, it really shouldn’t be that dominant. Random true fact.

10. I’m running out of random facts. Did you notice?

11. I like remote control airplanes. Only had one. Lost it the very first time I flew it. I was 40. End of story. Sigh.

KJ’s 11 Questions for Me

1. What is your favorite line from a movie and why?

“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” Especially, when the edits come back from the editor. Actually, that movie line is tied with, “My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” Fortunately, I have no real life reason to like it.  A close second would be, “This is pretty much the worst video made.” “Napoleon, like anyone can even know that.”

2. What celebrity do you think you resemble or perhaps people have told you look like?

Um, does Yoda count? Actually, no one has ever told me I look like a celebrity, and I can’t think of any, either. I did have someone tell me once I reminded them of their uncle from Michoacan. I can’t remember, but they were probably drunk at the time.

3. Share a favorite line or paragraph from your novel.

Hmmm. Since I have three to choose from, including the two published ones, I guess it’s up to me to pick which novel. Since it just launched, I might as well go with the second book, The Wise and the Mighty (promotion, promotion, promotion!) My favorite line(s) are:

She fully expected the darkness to penetrate her at any moment, freezing her from the inside. Instead, she felt the warmth of the flame and its soothing peace. She pondered the connection she felt in the clasped hands of her half sister and their mother, and a strange sensation surged through Paz. She thought of all the blessings in her life, of love and family, of health and protection. She realized how grateful she was for everything she had.

A desire welled up within her. A desire to preserve her family and to better herself continually. She wanted to increase in knowledge, in faith and in spirit. She wanted to overcome.

For a brief moment, as they knelt, all three women became one in thought and in purpose. And something else. A presence, deep and abiding, joined them.

4. Name three things you love about being a writer.

a) The perks. Definitely the perks.

b) Spreadsheets.

c) Creating. Getting those stories and characters which have been besieging my brain for years out in some kind of coherent fashion into any medium possible.

5. What is your favorite place on the planet?

At this point and time, I would have to say anywhere up or down the Mayan Riviera. Or my home office (aka., The Sanctuary).

6. What was your favorite character to write. Why?

I guess since she pretty much dominates The Foolish and the Weak, and features quite prominently in The Wise and the Mighty, it would have to be Paz. I’ve enjoyed imagining what kind of a daughter I would like to have, and that became Paz. Someone who really doesn’t know how good she is, yet someone who has to grow and stretch to be better. I’ve also enjoyed writing her mother, Paloma. Aside from her dark past and all her secrets, she’s the best mom a girl could ever have!

7. If you were guaranteed to be safely returned unharmed what risky thrill would you try?

Not much of a thrill seeker. Adrenaline rushes aren’t my thing. However, I think I could make a case for driving in a Nascar or some other vehicular race, piloting a jetfighter, or surviving one NFL game at tailback.

8. Put a link to your favorite blog post here. Tell us why it’s your favorite.

Okay, so my favorite blog post to date isn’t even found on my blog, but someone else’s: Diapers, Bookmarks and Pipedreams. It’s a guest post I did recently at the behest of fellow Indie author and all around swell guy, Kirkus MacGowan. In my modest opinion, it’s a scintillating treatise exploring the inner conflict of the modern Indie author.

From my own blog, probably this: Among the most admired. I don’t know what I intended it to be, but I like the way it turned out.

9. What is your favorite band or singer?

Band would be Creed. Singer would be Elvis. Then early Aretha Franklin. Robert Palmer (rock’n'roll songs only) and Adele.

10. Pop, rock, opera, classical, folk, rap… What’s your favorite type of music?

I don’t have a favorite type, though I guess I lean toward rock, or rock subgenres. I’ve enjoyed listening to Big Band, Swing, 50s rock, 60s soul, 70s funk, 80s pop, Dance and Adele. Need a beat, or meaningful lyrics. Both, and I’m probably there, as long as meaningful doesn’t involve certain body parts and what you do with them.

11. What author has inspired your writing the most?

Inspired? Hmmm. Stephen R. Donaldson, if I had to pick just one. Dan Brown and JK Rowling are right there, too.

Questions For My Nominees

1. What’s your favorite food and why?

2. If you watch television, what do you watch? (Can be either kinds of shows, like sports, reality, comedies, etc., or specific shows themselves).

3. What time of day or night do you find the best to write in. Why?

4. If you had to participate in something outside of your comfort zone, what would it be?

5. What skill or trade would you like to learn?

6. Pick a person, living or dead, you feel your ideals most closely align with.

7. Pick a genre you would write that you don’t currently write now, and tell why you would.

8. What motivates you? What is your passion? What gets you out of bed in the morning?

9. Aside from writing/blogging/social media/promoting, what else do you do with your time?

10. If you could be anything, what would it be? (Let’s see how creative you REALLY are!)

11. What human characteristic or trait do you admire most?

My Nominees for the Liebster Blog Award

Okay, onto the hardest part of this. I’m not entirely sure if everyone on the list is below 200 blog followers or not, and I didn’t make it to the magic eleven, either. Mostly, because I alway struggle with this part, and because its a passive aggressive way of messing with the numerologists!

1. Amanda Fanger. She’s on a journey, you see, and she grew up on a farm, with a love for writing.

2. Jordanna East. Among other things, her reoccurring Jerks & Irks posts are highly entertaining.

3. Beannaichte’s Blog. Offering a “place to experience a brief respite.”

4. Gary Henry. He reads, reviews and promotes self-published authors. Oh, and he is one, too!

5. Carmen DeSousa. Author of Romantic-Suspense novels and Mini-Mysteries with a Paranormal Edge.

As with any other award I’ve foisted—ahem, I mean, bestowed—upon others, award nominees/recipients are not under any obligation by me to acknowledge, comply or follow through in any way. I can’t speak for The Liebster, however.