Ack. I just lost a long entry. I'll make it fast. The A/C repairman showed up on time and has been here for about an hour. I am now feeling cold air here in the office. Maybe it's already fixed!

This, I think, is a combination of stress (see last Monday's post) and a meal that went awry. Saturday night we went out to celebrate my mother's birthday. My brother's band was playing a gig at a restaurant in Ft. Worth. After a horrible construction-related delay we got there late and the service was about the slowest I've seen anywhere. As a result, I didn't get my plate of BBQ until nearly 9 PM. Trouble is, I shouldn't be eating full meals after 8. Between the brisket and multiple birthday cakes, I was stuffed. Meds didn't help much. We had a good time, though. 

Yesterday was Mother's Day, and Chris got me some flowers and a card. I also had a couple of pieces of unwelcome news. The first is something I'm not comfortable sharing, but let's just say it left me gobsmacked and I will be processing it for several days. The second is that someone I know who has been ill is now not expected to make it through the week. I spent last night in Insomnia City.

Planned to take today off. Just rest and recover. Instead, the little bits of cleaning and organizing I've planned have turned into a full-blown attack. I have this pile of crap in the living room from my latest hat making frenzy and the impending Dallas Comic-Con. Turns out tomorrow morning (in theory) the air conditioner folks are going to show up to do part two of the repair that started back over Labor Day. Ah, I thought I'd blogged about that one. Our A/C had been having major issues with keeping the house cool. So Paul called out the repair folks. They discovered a couple of parts broken, one of which had to be ordered. And it seems that in order to test this thing properly the temps need to be in a certain range. I could be wrong, but that's what I gathered. While the repair guy was here, I was frantically typing at my computer (the office was at 95F) with a fan blowing over a bowl of ice water in a feeble attempt to keep the temperature down. I had a deadline I was desperately trying to make. A story was due in literally hours, and I'd just come in from Worldcon and ... yeah. I should have been working on the story earlier. I had. I took it with me to Chicago. Trouble was, I had a brilliant idea at the very last minute and had to rework everything. It made for a far better story.

Anyway, Paul called today to set up an appointment and - surprise! - they'll be out tomorrow morning. The A/C has been generally behaving, but temps have also been in the 70s and 80s lately. Also, the warranty runs out this fall, so we really, really want to get this thing fixed. Also, North Texas has managed to exceed its allotted two weeks of spring, and I expect the afternoon temperatures to climb from "pleasant" to "hotter than Hell" any day now. 

And my pile of crap is blocking access to one of the vents. So I'd better do something about it,eh? It's mostly things to take to Comic-Con for Thursday setup, but they've got to get to the vent. And I really need to dust and vacuum anyway. So there's my day.

So it's back to attacking the living room. I'll be a better person for it, right? 

The phone just rang. It wasn't a phone solicitor, a robocall, or bad news. Things must be looking up. ;-)

There's an adage something along the lines that it's easier to act first and apologize later. Stop it.

Stop. It.

For the last month I have borne the brunt of that policy from many, many directions. Every single time I have to drop what I'm doing and take care of things. Emergencies happen, but as another adage goes, lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.

I just have a few common sense requests:

1. Answer your email. About half of my backlog is due to others not answering simple questions. How long does a yes or no take? How long does it take to drop someone a line and say "I'm still researching that question." 

2. Don't fill up my calendar for me. I have an events page here. These are my public events, and I may have private items on my calendar as well. Yeah, the nerve of me to have a life. Before you set a date for an event you want me to be involved in (a meeting, etc.) ask. It's the polite thing to do.

3. Yes, emergencies happen. But this has been one of those months when I've been so busy putting out fires that shouldn't have been emergencies due to lack of planning, that real emergencies totally threw me for a loop.

Yes, I'm cranky. I need sleep. I need a day off. I'm going to work very hard to try to get to everything over the next two days. The first job is this unfinished project. Deadline is approaching, and it's one I can't let slide. 

So while I'm finishing my work this morning, please check and see if you owe me an email. I'd appreciate a response so I can carry on. Please, for the love of Ghu do not wait until the last freaking second. When everyone does that, this is what happens. 

Thank you.

This was sold as a suit, but now that I get it into full sunlight it's obvious that these are separates. Based on the construction and the zipper on the skirt I'm going to guess early-mid 1960s. And check out the lining in the third picture. It needs a little TLC, but nothing a needle, thread, and a little patience won't take care of. The velvet is in great shape. I may try to find a pencil skirt to wear with this. Matching blacks is going to be a pain, but maybe I can find something acceptable.

This is today's nifty find. The label says Newport News, which is the same as my black riding jacket. Unlike the riding jacket, I can't find this coat anywhere. It's got to be brand new; inside is a little bag with a replacement snap. (The closure is a snap covered by the flower.) This may be a second. It looks like someone started to sew one of the snaps on in the wrong spot and resewed it. All I need to do is carefully snip a couple of stray threads and it'll be just fine. Wouldn't this look lovely paired with cream?

I also picked up a gorgeous evening dress. I'm keeping this a surprise because it's one of two I picked up to wear at WorldCon. Why two? One for backup, of course. I'm a terrible klutz, and leave it to me to stain my dress at the reception. 

Entrance to Drury Plaza. Very cool fountain:

The San Fernando Cathedral:

Gears in the ground in the park near the cathedral:

Another interesting bit in the same area:

Narrow corridor off the River Walk:

The obligatory view out the window:

Teddy Roosevelt drank here! This is the interior or the bar at the Menger Hotel, where TR recruited the Rough Riders. Pardon the quality, but I didn't want to fire the flash:

A Rough Riders exhibit at the Menger. Note the hats! The saddle is also fascinating.

Inside the convention center:

It was good to get away for the weekend. This was our first road trip with the C-Max, and we took the new State Highway 130 that goes around Austin, Yep, this is the fabled toll road with speeds up to 85 MPH. And hey, it's a great way to avoid the inevitable Friday afternoon I-35 parking lot.

The meetings went well. I won't bore you with the details. Hey, it's not like the meetings were super-secret, but there was a lot of tramping around the facilities, measuring rooms, that sort of thing. It's a nice facility. 

Time to finish up a few tasks, fold the rest of the laundry, feed the fish, and start dinner. Ah, Mondays.

It's going to take some time to crawl out of the sleep deficit hole, but I'm getting there. At least I can sit at the computer, stare at a blank screen, and string together a few coherent sentences that don't come out like whiny rubbish. This is why I wasn't blogging. Everything I wrote was one big whinefest. At least I had the presence of mind to not subject both of my readers to it.

What's next? 

Well, I have a huge stack of correspondence to wade through. Actual paper correspondence. Okay, I did manage to pay the bills, but only because I have this thing about keeping the lights on. (Yeah, maybe that's why I didn't sleep: the lights were on! Har, har.)

Also, prep for convention season is gearing up. I have six more events this year, including four more art shows and one dealer slot. I'll have another one to announce soon. Check the listings on the sidebar or the Events page for details. 

Better get back to the pile of correspondence. I have ten items here, and would like to knock off as many as I can this afternoon, weather and noise at the house next door willing. Ah, yes. Spring storms moving through today. Plus, the house next door has changed hands and the new owners are quite busy with improvements, some of which require a jackhammer and other noisy equipment. It's not like this is an ongoing thing, but it makes concentrating on work a real adventure. 

Abby is sitting at the window, watching traffic go by. (At least when she wasn't blinking for the flash.) When she spots Paul's motorcycle she'll move into the kitchen and assume the Treating Position on the right-hand bar stool, where she will wait with increasing impatience until she gets her treats, dangit! 

This will be my cue to start the Human Treats. But first, I have to look under Chris' chair to be sure the picture of the sailing ship is still in place. Because the son has to be over the yardarm, yanno.

I'm still not enamored of some of the terms, but at least they have a stated sales level to trigger reversion of rights at the request of the author.

Thanks to Victoria Strauss for bringing this to light in the first place and to her and SFWA for talking to Random House to bring about the changes. 

2. This means that if you have more than 15 items, you get go to to one of the regular lanes. I don't care of the lady there has a cart overflowing with a month's worth of groceries.

3. You CAN use the Express Lane if the cashier motions you in or it's the only lane open.

4. As you load your 24 items onto the belt with a speed that would make a slug look like an Olympic sprinter, you DO NOT get to wave other people to the lane behind the lady with a month's worth of groceries.

5. For the record, if I had more than 15 items, I would have gone into the line behind the lady with the month's worth of groceries. 

6. I had exactly 15 items. I counted. Twice.

7. Three identical items does not equal a single item, particularly when you place them all on the belt. And doubly so when you still had over 15 items when the identical items were counted as single items.

8. Did you not take math in school, or are you just an entitled jerk?

9. I suspect the latter, because you waved a guy with two items off to stand behind the lady with a month's worth of groceries.

10. I am not ragging on the lady with the overflowing cart of groceries. She was following the rules.

11. You were not.

12. The store was kind enough to open another line and the two of us that should have been in the Express Lane got out ahead of you.

13. That's your reward.

14. I hope the checker made you take all of your items down and put them back in your cart and made you go stand behind the lady with the overflowing cart.

15. I wish I had the ovaries to tell you in person what I thought, but it wasn't worth making a scene over. I'll just rant here.

First, the SFWA has declared the Random House Hydra imprint to not be a qualifying market for membership. John Scalzi (current SFWA president) posted a delicious rant (can a rant be delicious?) on his blog. Later in the day he obtained a contract from Alibi, another RH imprint, and broke down the salient points. 

In a nutshell, the writer gets nothing up front, and expenses are deducted from royalties. Those expenses aren't really specified. It's a life-of-copyright rights grab for everything - foreign language, video games, action figures, whatever you can think of, and in whatever media can be exploited now and in the future. As Victoria Strauss pointed out there (and has repeatedly pointed out), life-of-copyright is standard, but often balanced with a clear reversion of rights clause that states how the author can regain control of their work and under what circumstances. (Most anthology contracts I sign are for all rights, but there's a crystal clear reversion clause stating that the rights are returned after a specified period of time - usually one or two years after publication. And when the publisher exploits those rights, I get paid royalties! On top of my advance!)

Some writers may look at that contract and think, "yeah, it's bad, but Random House!" As John points out, what incentive does a publisher have to get that book into the hands of readers when the writer is paying all of the expenses? If you sign on with a "traditional" imprint of Random House, you'll get an advance and royalties (they may or may not be lousy, but you'd get a check), and they take care of the expenses of cover design, layout, editing, distribution, and so on. They have an incentive to get that book into the hands of readers because they need to make money off of it. Do you see the difference?

This week several people on a board for writers have been questioning a publisher about their "subsidy" practices. The publisher in question claims that only a few authors are charged a subsidy. But when a press engages in that practice, it cheapens their entire operation. Again, what incentive do they have to get my book in the hands of readers when I've covered their costs of publication? 

Yes, yes. The business is shifting. More presses are foregoing the advance for a higher share of royalties on the back end. That's working out great for some writers, and for those presses that actually do what a commercial publisher is supposed to do. They're creating quality products and building a strong reader base. Plus, they have a track record of paying up. It's not all gloom and doom, and some presses are proving that particular model works. But in no way are authors charged for publication.

The other big story making the writerly rounds is Nate Thayer's exchange with The Atlantic, and the rambling response from one of the editors at the publication. Essentially, Thayer was asked to submit a revised and shortened version of a piece he'd had published elsewhere. And by the way, they couldn't pay him. Wonkette has an interesting take on this, including the observation that someone at that publication is clearly making money. Why can't they pay for content?

I know we're in a recession, but the downward pressure on rates started long before that, when the shift from print to electronic media began to take place. I'm not sure there's an answer. At least not a simple one. But clearly, the business of shifting expenses on the writer, and the doubling down on the concept that the creatives are the last to be paid puts a tremendous burden on those who create the content that generates the income in the first place.

I knew going in that it would be tough to make a living entirely from writing, but what happens as more creatives leave this business and go into fields that pay the bills? Hey, flipping burgers pays better than nothing. 

The flip side of this is the Internet culture that expects content for free or a very low price. Just look at all the reviews on Amazon dinging publishers for high book prices. Half the time when I go to my local newspaper web site, there are comments dinging the paper for hiding articles behind a paywall. Well, how do you expect the reporters to get paid? Used to be few people balked at a subscription for a print newspaper or magazine, but now that they're all online, should they be free? How does this create a sustainable business? Again, I don't have the answers, but these questions are worth asking.

It's not greedy to ask what's in it for you before you sign a contract. It's not wrong to ask for assistance in parsing one, either. Don't sign a bad contract because you think it's your only recourse. Most likely it isn't, and perhaps that bad contract can be renegotiated to something better. If not, is it really worth it to consign that book to a life-of-copyright contract where you have little hope of seeing anything off the back end? What if it happens to be a breakout book? 

Be careful out there.