This is not The Haters Club You're Looking For discussion
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I Hate Pushy Authors
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who come to your town,
and you do them the favor of taking them to your bar,
you know,
the one where you spend as much as your mortgage each month,
and the dipshit author proceeds to insult your favorite bartender/friend,
insult your favorite knee-high-sock wearing waitress by after a single swig, "This is double? Really?",
BEFORE claiming your favorite knee-high wearing waitress (whom you usually tip 25 percent to just for wearing said knee-highs) doesn't deserve a tip,
BEFORE
he stiffs you with the friggin bill.
And the clincher: he's not that great of a writer.
And the second clincher: you play nice and buy a copy of his book, but he doesn't return the favor. Basturd!
It has happened many a time...


And Kids book hero Tomie Dipaulo was so rude to one of our staff a couple of years ago that he is not invited back. Apparently, he went so far as to say we shouldn't be selling used books. Ha! It's funny when authors think that used book sales are tearing into their royalty checks.



I used to work at the Strand, in NYC, but don't have any pushy author stories from there. My friend that worked at Gotham, though, told me that everyone there hated Edward Gorey.

I swear to do my best not to spam this place, or request people to be my friend unless I think we can make it work, even if it looks like it's going to take counseling.

if we don't, we don't get published again. the worst thing about it is that nobody knows if this annoying business of annoying other people actually sells books. . .
lynn (author of bang BANG, a novel about a woman who gets really upset with all the guns on the streets and does something outrageous to make things better.)


And I suppose there must be some people around here who hate Buffy, so I'm staying on topic. Not me, though.



I swear, what has someone got to do around here to get some service!
;-)

I'm not going to mention names, but I know a few sf writers who need to learn to chew with their mouths closed, among other things.
a little off topic, but i attended a writing conference where this "renowned" new england poet read from his work
he had received one of those sabbatical grants that he was supposed to use to write his masterpiece
he read an "excerpt" from this masterpiece about his brother who was a jogger and died of a heart attack...for an hour!
it was entitled "my brother running"
it was the most excruciatingly boring thing I'd ever heard, but how were you going to get up and leave?
during the heart attack stanzas while his voice was cracking?
or maybe during the rhythmic chanting of "my brother running, my brother running?"
it wasn't a packed house and any departure would have been noticed
i was doing that legs straight out head tilted back slung forward in my seat tortured sitting on my seat thing and he looked up at the end and just gave the audience this sort of sadistic smile
he had received one of those sabbatical grants that he was supposed to use to write his masterpiece
he read an "excerpt" from this masterpiece about his brother who was a jogger and died of a heart attack...for an hour!
it was entitled "my brother running"
it was the most excruciatingly boring thing I'd ever heard, but how were you going to get up and leave?
during the heart attack stanzas while his voice was cracking?
or maybe during the rhythmic chanting of "my brother running, my brother running?"
it wasn't a packed house and any departure would have been noticed
i was doing that legs straight out head tilted back slung forward in my seat tortured sitting on my seat thing and he looked up at the end and just gave the audience this sort of sadistic smile

"A breathless, giddy, over-the-top tour of popular cliche, Now With 20% More Evil!"
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My (saracasm now) favorite is when authors complain that their book is not displayed in front. The latest nag was Natalie Goldberg--yes, the hippie who wrote Writing Down the Bones--she kvetched about not being displayed in the window and then she asked about a book.
Her: There's a book that I heard about by that Denis Johnson called Jesus Superstar. It's about the hippies.
Me: It's Jesus Son. It's a book of short stories. (in my head: um, you're a writing teacher and you don't know this book?!)
Her: But it's about hippies or the 60s, right?
Then she asked me where Among the Thugs was shelved and when I told her in the soccer section (it's about soccer hooligans), she said, "No, that's not right. It's much more literary than that."