Do not ask for whom the fluff falls
It falls for THEE!
At around this time every year, parts of Canberra are inundated with flying fluff as hundreds of white poplars do their pollination thing. It represents torture to allergy sufferers, Christmassy delights to snow-lovers, and a dire warning to students at the Australian National University (since it coincides with the beginning of the final term of the year).
This incredibly silly article sets out to disprove the myth that “If you haven’t started studying when the fluff begins to fall, you will fail at your exams.”
Yes, clearly, some people don’t particularly need to study (English major, anyone? I speak as one who knows). Hard-hitting journalism indeed.
It is a time in Canberra that is particularly peculiar and thus particularly enjoyable. Here’s hoping Her Majesty (who’s popping by her most distant colony this week) doesn’t suffer from hayfever.
Baby Brain versus The Fuzz: Part Three
As regular readers will already know, I paid the annual registration for our car in May, but accidentally used the wrong reference number (because an old reference number comes up automatically in our bank system, and they can only be used once) – then failed to notice the lack of rego sticker in the mail because (a) The $770 fee was most certainly gone from our account, and (b) That was when I first became badly ill with this pregnancy.
Everything is sorted with the registration office, but the police chief’s representative said that, because the car has technically been unregistered all this time, we still have to pay a $1100 fine – or appeal to the Magistrate’s Court.
We appealed.
We now know that the Magistrate’s Court is an actual physical court that we will need to actually physically attend. CJ acquired some free legal advice, however, and we know what to say – I will plead guilty and ask for a “Section Ten” – basically, “Can you please let us off, because, like, come on pleeeeease.”
Sounds like a solid case to me.
Our present status is waiting for the official court summons, and hoping I’m not in labour or in China (we have a family wedding coming up next year) at the time.
Victorian Invention: Combined Bustle and Stool
Time for a genuine news article taken from Leonard de Vries’ book “Victorian Inventions”.
COMFORT AND FASHION HAPPILY UNITED
So long as it is the fashion for ladies to wear bustles of the pronounced amplitude now favoured by so many of the fair sex, we do not see why the fact may not be turned to advantage to build into the bustle a device calculated to make it convenient for the wearer frequently to rest from the fatigue of long standing and walking. We are curious to know what other ingenious devices the inventors hold in store for making further use of this space which has been neglected up to now.
Punishing Publishers
I say it over and over, but it’s worth repeating: Publishers are not mighty conglomerates run by white men getting fat off authors and laughing gleefully as they reject new work. They’re businesses that rely on an extremely unpredictable market, and sometimes even the giants fall. Also, they’re run mainly by women.
So please, let go of the myth of the major publisher as a baddie. That just makes new writers more vulnerable to scams and foolish decisions.
Some readers also try to punish publishers by boycotting certain books. John Scalzi says please don’t.
“Airborn” by Kenneth Oppel
“Goliath” is still en route to bookshops (maybe this week. . .) so here’s another steampunk review to keep you going:
“Airborn”
Definitely dieselpunk rather than steampunk, but still the first book I’ve found with a hot air balloon (which is reeled in by the crew of a zeppelin in the first scene).
The rest of this review has been moved to Comfy Chair, where I get paid for it.
A writing scam? For ME?!?!
A few days ago, I received my first ever personalised writing scam via email. Here is the full text of that email:
Dear Ms Curtis,
I am writing on behalf of a new international publishing house, JustFiction! Edition.
In the course of a web-research I came across a reference of your manuscript Worse Things Happen at Sea and it has caught my attention.
We are a publisher recognized worldwide, whose aim it is to help talented but international yet unknown authors to publish their manuscripts supported by our experience of publishing and to make their writing available to a wider audience.
JustFiction! Edition would be especially interested in publishing your manuscript as an e-book and in the form of a printed book and all this at no cost to you, of course.
If you are interested in a co-operation I would be glad to send you an e-mail with further information in an attachment.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Kind regards
Evelyn Davis
Acquisition Editor
Just Fiction! Edition is a trademark of:
LAP LAMBERT Academic Publishing GmbH & Co. KG
Dudweiler Landstr. 99
66123 Saarbrücken
Germany
Phone: +49 681 3720-310
Fax: +49 681 3720-3109
Email: e.davis@justfiction-edition.com
http://www.justfiction-edition.com
Register court/number: Handelsregister Amtsgericht Saarbrücken HRA 10752 Identification Number (Verkehrsnummer): 12917
Partner with unlimited liability/Persönlich haftende Gesellschafterin: VDM Management GmbH
Register court/number: Handelsregister Amtsgericht Saarbrücken HRB 18918
Managing directors/Geschäftsführer: Dr. Wolfgang Philipp Müller, Christoph Schulligen, Esther von Krosigk
This is a fairly simple scam. They don’t charge money up front, but will presumably gain that cash by offering me copies of the book – probably at a reduced rate. The sales of that book to the author are probably the only sales that will ever happen. Interestingly, the first book in their “catalogue” was “published” less than a month ago. (Never publish with a company less than two years old and/or one that has no successful titles.)
It is clear from the email above that not only do they not bother with editing, they don’t actually bother READING the books they represent. In fact, my “manuscript” Worse Things Happen at Sea is a twitter tale – all of about 1000 words. They list a large number of distributors (many of which are probably actually wholesalers, meaning that they STORE books, not sell them – I strongly doubt any actually “distribute” books to bookshops). One of the American distributors sounded familiar, so I searched Writer Beware and found this excerpt about it:
Now, one of the tricky things in this industry is that one of the major players, Ingram, is both a distributor and wholesaler. They have separate arms to handle each. But, per the descriptions above, there’s a vast difference on what they do if you pay them to be your distributor, versus merely having a listing with them in their wholesale catalog.
Unfortunately, a lot of small presses and POD self-publishing companies try to make you believe they have the distributor relationship when, in fact, they have the wholesale relationship. Since Ingram won’t reveal its client list, it’s hard to know which is which. However, I believe that right now, Ingram requires that a publisher that’s a distribution client must have about $20K+ of income from Ingram in order to qualify. If you think logically, would even PublishAmerica, the powerhouse of POD presses, qualify? Probably not. PA has the titles, but not the sales.
Kids, here’s the take-home message: There are a lot of scams out there (plus, to make things worse, some helplessly naiive publishers who simply don’t have the business sense to function). Never forget that. If someone approaches you with a wonderful shiny offer, they have a reason, and – I’m sorry – it’s very rarely because your writing is as good as your dreams. Often people are dodgy even when it’s you approaching them (setting up a web site isn’t difficult). If their books aren’t on shelves at your bookshop, they’re not actually getting sold – and yours won’t be sold to the public either.
Tattoos and Trimesters
It’s generally said that the second trimester is the good one. The nausea is basically done (for most people), and the muscle/bone pain and giant-ness hasn’t kicked in yet. This is my final week of “the good part” and I’m nauseous 90% of the time – and in pain 90% of the time (the same times of day, which is handy). The pain is very mild so far (except at night, when it’s quite bad), but – TA DA! – it’s going to get worse and worse from now on. And Louisette’s kicking is already painful sometimes too (but CJ has been able to feel the kicks a few times, yay).
Most women don’t take time off work in first trimester – but they do take time off in third trimester. That’s terrifying.
How bad is this going to get? How hard will it be to walk up and down stairs in my house? Will I get to the point where I can’t drive any more? Will I get to the point where I can’t pick things up when I drop them (I average one dropped item a day)? Will I run out of mental strength and turn into a horrible ogre?
You may have picked up that I was pretty discouraged last week. The last couple of days I’ve recovered to my normal self, and have started developing plans to deal with an unpleasant near future – mainly I’ll be considering the next two months as my functional, do-stuff, contribute-to-society times, and then planning to be pretty useless for the last month (which will probably drag on to six weeks, but at least my sister and her family will be here from 11 January, and CJ gets a holiday between Christmas and New Years’ Day). The up side of the third trimester physical issues is that they’re guaranteed to be OVER by two weeks after the due date (doctors would induce at that point). This means that I have a firm date to look forward to – and I can call in favours that don’t have that dangling “for a while” clause (which I know from experience is helpful to the friends’ fatigue levels – ever had someone come and stay at your house indefinitely? Same principle).
I have a few things to look forward to in the meantime – tomorrow I’m visiting the midwife, and this weekend is the baby shower (which I cunningly planned to have quite early, so I’d be in the best possible shape for it)!
Apparently most of the belly growth happens in second trimester, so (fingers crossed) I won’t get toooo much bigger (although Louisette currently weighs a little under a kilo, so she’ll more than triple in size – most of the pregnancy weight gain is the baby support system, which is already in place). In any case, before it gets even more terrifying, here are a couple of pictures showing my true size – and showing that my tattoo appears to be coping fine.
The first photo is pre-pregnancy.
First Birthday Party
The first birthday is always a curious thing, since the guest of honour is not going to remember it, doesn’t anticipate it, and is far more interested in wrapping paper than presents. But it means a great deal to everyone else.
At this particular party, we played pass the parcel, pin the spoon on the baby, musical chairs, and “guess the age in this photo”. Immaturity is rarely so appropriate.
Pass the parcel:
Baby Brain versus The Fuzz: Part Two
You may recall I was recently stopped by the police, and it turned out that although I had paid my car registration in full and on time (and marked it off in four different places – I know not to trust my memory), it had not gone through – so technically my car was unregistered.
Since then we have squared things with the RTA (with ease), but it turns out that the infringement notice I was given by the police officer at the time – the $1100 infringement order, which is more than I’ve earned in the last three months – still stands. The error was caused by an incorrect customer number – so I probably did screw up after all (this was just after we found out I was pregnant, and just before I became more ill and ended up in hospital on a drip because I was too sick to drink water).
To deal with the fine, I needed to email the police directly. I did so immediately, including the email from the RTA saying it was all cleared up at their end.
The police emailed back saying that the infringement notice stands.
. . .
Did I want to appeal to the Magistrate’s Court?
Yes, I did.
So that’s where we are now: waiting to hear back from the Magistrate’s Court. I’m hoping that this is simply a beaurocratic thing, and it won’t go any further. I’m particularly hoping we don’t need to front up to court somewhere, possibly pay legal fees, and end up paying the fine as well.
I THINK it’s a beaurocratic thing.
I think that, in Australia, you don’t get fined unless you’ve actually done something criminal, or harmed someone somehow, or failed to pay a fee (such as parking). Courtroom dramas are all very well in fiction – not so fun in real life.
I’ll let you know what happens.
Asian Steampunk
This is a seriously interesting article on real Asian history, and how awesomely it lends itself to a wide range of steampunk tropes and tales. Naturally, it’s from Tor.com.
This was an especially interesting read for me, because I haven’t stumbled across ANY Asian steampunk – the extent of my knowledge was knowing that steampunk is big in Japan (and that “Full Metal Alchemist” is very good).
The author is responding to a market he/she sees as limited to “samurai, geisha and ninja”. He/she gives numerous knowledgable and interesting examples of pirates, detectives, hard-boiled reporters and submarine captains. Here’s a delicious slice:
From the mid-17th century through the 1920s Chinese novels translated into Mongolian were in huge demand in Mongolia, and there was a flourishing trade in them. But the problem for the Mongolian bookbuyers and booksellers was not only the bidding wars which would break out with Russian, Mongolian, and Chinese buyers, but that getting the manuscripts back to Mongolia to sell was difficult because of the very real chance that those transporting the books would be attacked on the way back by bandits wanting to get the manuscripts and sell them for themselves. This resulted in decades of adventurous Mongolian book traders as skilled with sword and gun as they were at selling books.
I think the article could well have gone further – what about mad scientists, femme fatales, adventuring orphans, evil devices, and creepy clockwork (actually, I KNOW the latter existed)? I’m willing to bet Asia’s Victorian-era history is brimming with all of them.
I don’t currently have any plans to write Asian steampunk myself, but if you’re inclined that way, this article is a brilliant place to start your historical research.
