Month: February 2008

The forgotten thing

By / February 21, 2008 / 1 Comment

Every time I leave the house for a long trip, I spend an extra minute in the driveway trying to remember what it was that I forgot. Something always gets forgotten or missed during a process as complex as packing. Sometimes I think of it right there in the driveway and I can fetch it. Other times I’m several hours down the road before I figure out what I forgot. Figuring out what was forgotten is always a relief. Once I know what I forgot, I can relax because it was not as bad as it could have been.

I just had that experience with the printing of Hold on to Your Horses. I prepped and planned and prepared as best I could. Then I sent the files to the printer. I couldn’t see anything else for me to do, but part of me was waiting to see where the mistake was. Part of me was worried that the mistake was huge and would ruin the project. The printer found one mistake and emailed me. (files in the wrong format.) Howard looked and found an even bigger mistake. (Files of insufficient resolution for print.) Both of these mistakes are huge, but they are easily fixed now that they have been caught. So now I know what I missed and it has been demonstrated to me that the safety net to catch my errors works very well. I find this very comforting.

Note on the day

By / February 20, 2008 / 2 Comments

Note to self: When you write a Very Important Email in the morning be sure you actually send it before spending the rest of the day neurotically checking to see if there is a reply.

Yeah. It’s been one of those days. The kind of day where the weight of the stressful things rob the good things of their joy. I am tired.

Tomorrow will be better.

Merchandise and experience

By / February 19, 2008 / 2 Comments

On the Chinese zodiac we’ve just entered the year of the rat. On the Tayler zodiac this is the year of merchandise. Already this year we’ve put out a handful of posters and we’re in process on t-shirts. As expected, we’ve had more than a few hassles as we hike up the learning curve for producing and shipping things other than books. Last weekend we sold some of the advanced shipment of shirts. Then yesterday I washed the shirts that we’d claimed for Howard and most of the white print washed off. The shirts had been improperly baked. It is a simple error, quickly resolved and won’t be a problem for the rest of the shirts, but I still had a moment of abject terror while staring at that shirt. Ditto today when the printer contacted me about a formatting error on Hold on to Your Horses. The errors themselves are easily fixed, but I’m left with a creeping fear that there is some other error, some big error that won’t be caught until it is too late. For all that I sit on panels at conventions and talk like I know exactly what I’m doing, I’m really just making this up as I go along. Sure I research and plan ahead, but those aren’t the same as experience. Unfortunately the only way for me to get experience is for me to forge ahead and hope for the best.

The Chaos that is Family

By / February 18, 2008 / 3 Comments

Every Monday night we have a scheduled time when we are all together as a family. This is called Family Home Evening and it is something that our church advocates. Prior to this year, we have had one once every other year or so. Starting the first week of January we have done it every single Monday. It has been a good thing for our family. We made up a chart so that the burden of planning for this event is spread out. Each child has a job to do in preparation. The jobs are opening prayer, song, lesson, closing prayer, chart keeper, and activity. Giving them each assignments helps them look forward to the event. They’re also more respectful during it, because they know the work that is involved.

All is not sunshine and roses though. I hardly expect that from an activity that puts all of us into close proximity for any period of time. Sometimes the event is more about Mom and Dad modeling good conflict management than about the topic or activity of the day. This evening for example. Gleek had an upset just prior to start time and declared that she would not come at all. I told her it was family time and that she had to come. Then she declared that she would just put her fingers in her ears the whole time. She didn’t, of course. She was far too interested in hearing what was going on. Kiki did a marvelous job with the lesson and kept everyone’s interest really well. The chaos began with Link’s activity.

Link decided to create a variant of “Doggie Doggie where’s your bone.” This version had a bone carefully constructed out of duplo blocks. The “doggie” then broke the bone into pieces and hid them. The other players then had to walk around in the dark, find all the pieces, re-construct the bone, and then give it to the doggie. Then the players would try to steal the bone back and the doggie had to guess who stole it. We did the “find pieces in the dark” thing exactly once and then I declared that we had to play a more traditional version of the game. All was well for the first couple of rounds, but then the little ones began to take the game far too seriously. Being guessed when you had the bone was cause for tears. Not getting to be the doggie was cause for tears. Not getting to be the bone-stealer was cause for tears. Each bout of tears required the game pause while ruffled feelings were soothed. The biggest catastrophe of all was when Howard played a joke by calling out to the doggie before the stealing was done. That had three kids crying simultaneously because “Daddy ruined the whole game!”

So tonight the family event ended grumpily. Know what? That’s just fine. Family isn’t always about being happy together. Family is about sometimes hurting each other’s feelings and still loving each other. Family is about saying sorry a lot. Family is about being irritated by a person that you would move the whole world to help if it becomes necessary. That kind of love and loyalty is built slowly through lots of shared experiences both good and bad. When I talk with my siblings we reminisce as fondly about the old squabbles as we do about the happy games. I like to think of my grown-up kids looking back at this grumpy evening and laughing with joy that it existed. I’ll pay the price of some grumpy family times to get a future like that.

Brain all filled up

By / February 17, 2008 / 6 Comments

My brain is too full. This has been a chronic problem for several months now. I spend most of my days moving from task to task without pause. When I do have down time, I want to escape and so I read or watch something. This does let me stop thinking about my things-to-do, but it also crams additional material into my head. I really need a recreational activity that lets me sort my thoughts rather than giving me new thoughts to sort. I hope it warms up soon so that I can get outside and garden. I miss flowers and wet earth.

LTUE and next week

By / February 17, 2008 / 11 Comments

Conventions are the reward for all the hours of work that Howard and I put in at home. At conventions we finally have faces and voices for people who were previously anonymous hits on the website. Conventions are where it all begins to feel real. It works the other way too. Howard and I become real to people who have only known us through our work. At every single convention I attend I meet several new and amazing people. Most of the time these amazing people are not the ones I hoped/expected to meet when I arrive at the event. LTUE had both Orson Scott Card and Gail Carson Levine as guests of honor. I never had the chance to speak to either one of them. I am sure that they are wonderful people, but they were always either surrounded or rushing off somewhere. Howard did speak briefly with them both and even gave Mr. Card a copy of Under New Management. That’s enough, we’re happy. Among the new amazing people are Darwin Garrison of Darwin’s Evolutions, Joselle Vanderhoof a local poet/author, and Christie Skipper Ritchotte who reads slush for Shimmer. I had marvelous conversations with each of them. Then of course there were all the familiar amazing people. I am very fortunate to live in a place with a strong creative community.

I always come home from conventions exhausted, but invigorated. I want to dive into new projects and take advantage of the new opportunities that I have learned about. But this year I need to be careful. My plate is already so full that stuff is falling off. I can not dive into new things until I have finished off some of the old ones. Even more important is that I not upset the structure that I worked so hard to set up during January. The last few days were chaotic for us all, but now the kids need me to be back to making dinner and enforcing homework. They need me to be available to help them with the hundreds of things that seem little to me, but are big for them. So the primary focus for this next week is to re-establish normal.

In the business parts of normal I need to do the math to figure out how much we made attending this convention and exactly what merchandise sold. This is important because I need to ship merchandise to the two conventions that Howard attends next month and I need to know how much to ship. Also I need to prepare for my meeting with the tax accountant on Tuesday. Regular accounting needs to be done. Regular shipping also needs to be done. I need to figure out how many shirts have been pre-ordered so that I can give a preliminary count to our shirt guy. I want to plan a layout for the Hold on to Your Horses website. And hopefully I can do some work on The Teraport Wars as well. Oddly, I’m not oppressed by the quantity of things on my list for the week, but instead I’m looking forward to it.

A handful of love

By / February 16, 2008 / 7 Comments

I was getting ready to go. Kiki had already been briefed about all the resources at her disposal while she babysat the other kids. She’d been told the hours during which I needed the kids not to call because I’d be on panels. All that was left to do was say goodbye to the other kids and remind them to be good for Kiki.

Gleek was sprawled stomach down on the floor with the remains of her valentine’s day haul strewn around her. She had dumped out two little boxes of nerds candy and was sorting them by colors so that there was a pile of white balls and a pile of pink balls. She seemed to pay no attention to my admonitions, but as soon as I turned to go, she cried “Wait Mom!”

I turned back and waited. Gleek continued to sort balls. I shifted on my feet. If I did not leave soon, I would be late. Gleek popped to her feet and held out two tiny handfuls of nerds, one pink and one white.

“These are good lucks.” She said as she tipped the balls into my waiting hand. “There are five white ones and five pink ones. I counted. They will help you with your panels.” Gleek hugged me tight. “You’re my best mom!” Then she let me go.

I walked up stairs, cupping the little handful of candy. I’m not a candy person. Too much sugar gives me headaches. But what I held in my hand was more than just candy. It was also a little handful of love, an expression of support from my little girl. I could not throw it away as if it were mere sugar. I popped them in my mouth and savored the sweetness as I walked out the door.

I think they worked too, because the panels went well.

LTUE Day 2

By / February 15, 2008 / 3 Comments

My mind is buzzing and I’m too worn out to sort through all the thoughts tonight. All the thoughts are floating around and bumping into each other. I have thoughts about conversations I had today; conversations I meant to have, but didn’t; things I said on panels; things I thought up later that I wished I’d said; things other people said on panels; neat ideas for further marketing books; and a general sense of satisfaction with the whole event. I’ll be headed back tomorrow for the afternoon and evening. Perhaps tomorrow morning will provide some time for more coherent bloggishness.

LTUE 2008 Day 1

By / February 14, 2008 / 4 Comments

Like so many before him, the man meandered near our table covered with Schlock merchandise. I recognized the body language of “just browsing” and didn’t speak up from my seat behind the table. A person sitting behind a table of merchandise becomes amazingly invisible. He did not even notice me as I watched him. I saw him look at the covers of the books, then his head made a near imperceptible movement. I wasn’t sure I’d seen it, except that he did it again several more times as he read the schlock posters. He disapproved of what he was seeing and the minute movement of his head showed it. At that point I spoke up and offered him a URL card, telling him he could read online for free. I’m not sure why I did so, when I’d already figured out he wasn’t likely to want to read. He took the card to be polite and then left. I watched him leave, and realized that nothing I could say or do would make him like Schlock. Some people just won’t, no matter how much I might wish they would. But at least this guy was extremely polite. If I had not been watching so closely, I would never have known what he thought.

The exchange with Mr. Disapproval was a huge contrast to nearly every other interaction I had at LTUE. Dozens of people came up to me, already knowing my name, interested in what I had to say. I always expect everyone to know Howard, but I did not expect so many people to know me. I guess that happens when you attend the same convention multiple years running. This was our first year really running a merchandise table. During the hours I was there, Howard and I traded off. He would go listen to a panel, or be on a panel and I would sit at the table. Several times I handed out business cards or explained what Schlock Mercenary is to people who were interested. I’m very pleased to notice the huge contrast between today and my experience at a different convention three years ago. I have learned a lot about making conversation with strangers since that time.

I even got a chance to meet some of the folks who belong to the same online writer’s forum as I do. There were good conversations to be had there. Hopefully I’ll run into them again tomorrow. I also hope I get a chance to speak with Orson Scott Card, who is one of the guests of honor. I don’t need anything from him, but I would like to thank him for the books he has written. His writing had a huge impact on me when I was in my early twenties. I still feel some of the effects of that impact. Today, for example, I felt nervous when I realized that he had taken a seat across the room from me. I considered going over there, but did not want to be just part of the flock of people around him, hanging on his every word. It seems silly to be nervous, but I guess it is hard not to be in a situation like this.

Tomorrow is also the day of my panels. I’m looking forward to that. I have some great co-panelists. It should be fun.

Copy editing

By / February 13, 2008 / 3 Comments

In the process of creating a book you read it about a million times. I am so familiar with the words and pictures of Hold on to Your Horses that I can practically recite it from memory. Only I’d probably get it wrong because I’ve been familiar with all the different versions of it as the words have evolved. Last week I finally reach the stage where the words had all been as tweaked as I could make them. All the pictures had been examined and placed. It seemed ready to go, but I knew it wasn’t. I knew that there were mistakes in the book, but I am so familiar with all the words and pictures that my brain was auto correcting errors without even registering them. I needed other people to look at the book and tell me where the mistakes were. This is called copy editing.

I had six different people take a look at the book. They all found glaring errors that I’d been missing. There were capitals in the middle of sentences. There were places where the words overlapped the pictures and were hard to read. There were words in the wrong tense. There were some misspellings. Each time copy edits came in I would look and wonder how on earth I had missed the mistake all those millions of readings before. But the really interesting thing is that each editor found different mistakes than the others. There were a few overlaps, but each editor found 2-3 things that no on else noticed. One editor was very visual and noticed spacing problems. A couple caught grammatical errors. Another focused on awkward wordings. Each editor brought something new and valuable. I am very grateful to them all.

I made all the changes. I burned the files to disk. Then I shipped them off to China. It is tempting to keep sending the book around to other people. Everyone found errors, there are surely some more lurking in there. But I know from experience that no matter how many people look over a book, some error will slip past us all. It happens every time with the Schlock books. I can only hope that the error is sufficiently minor that few people will notice it.