My friend came over to the house the other day with book in hand for me to sign. The second I held it I knew something was off-- the damn thing was lighter than the books I've been schlepping all over the country for the past few months. Now I've learned this year that there can be many iterations of a book. There's the ABM which stands for advanced bound manuscript (essentially your manuscript soft bound), there's the ARC which stands for Advanced Readers Copy (a much tighter version of your book) and then there's the book itself. Apparently there's also another type of book out there that I failed to take into consideration -- the counterfeit. Take a look at the picts below.
:

:
First thing I noticed was the color. The gray one on the right is the fake. Notice also that the original is thicker than the fake.

Then I noticed the interior. Original on left.

The original has a much better quality tape (on bottom).

Then I noticed the thinness of the paper. So sheer in fact that I could actually see through it onto my book's paper.

And finally I noticed that the Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publications data was missing (outline shows missing info).


The fake is on the right. On the left is the TOP HALF of the real book (I cut out the LOC) . Notice how the order of content is slightly different.
I promptly wrote my publisher and got this in response: "The good news is, you're a hot enough commodity to be pirated. The bad news is, I'm not sure what we can do about it, if anything."
Now the really funny thing is I could care less about losing money on the book because money is still something I don't have and based on the scuttlebutt of other authors, won't be seeing for quite some time. But "hot commodity"? Now that's something I'll take any day of the week.
Thanks for listening.
Dani

Then I noticed the interior. Original on left.
The original has a much better quality tape (on bottom).
Then I noticed the thinness of the paper. So sheer in fact that I could actually see through it onto my book's paper.
And finally I noticed that the Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publications data was missing (outline shows missing info).
The fake is on the right. On the left is the TOP HALF of the real book (I cut out the LOC) . Notice how the order of content is slightly different.
I promptly wrote my publisher and got this in response: "The good news is, you're a hot enough commodity to be pirated. The bad news is, I'm not sure what we can do about it, if anything."
Now the really funny thing is I could care less about losing money on the book because money is still something I don't have and based on the scuttlebutt of other authors, won't be seeing for quite some time. But "hot commodity"? Now that's something I'll take any day of the week.
Thanks for listening.
Dani
So this is what happens when your book finally hits the store shelves - you sort of freak. Imagine that you've spent the better part of a decade waiting for this very moment (in our case 8 years from "dude, we should write something" to "dude, smell the book!"). Well the moment arrives (in our case on 3/31/09) and all you can do is...nothing.
You wait.
And wait.
And wait.
(however long it took you to read those last three sentences is pretty much about how long I waited).
And then you dive into the net like it's nobody's business. These are the types of questions OCD authors ask themselves:
4. ARE WE SELLING???
The really sad part about all of the above (besides its inherent patheticism) is that there's not a bloody thing you can do once the book's been released. That ship has sailed, sister. Oh, don't get me wrong, you can easily fool yourself into thinking all you need is a bacon cat to really push your book sales over the edge. Or perhaps if you add a few more cons to your schedule then maybe...just maybe...you'll have done enough.
Cue horrible moment of truth: You can never do enough.
Hovering over blogs where others argue about the merits of your work will not sell more books. Hourly checking your amazon.com ranking will do nothing but burn the amazon landing page image into your retinas (I think I need a screen saver for my eyes). No, friends, what all of this will do is drive you absolutely crazy. Fortunately I'm now inured. I've been to the edge so many times I actually bought land there and built myself a nice little veranda. Bleak can be beautiful, you just have to know how to stain it.
Here's the real irony--All the obsessiveness I used to my great advantage to get the thing published (writing and rewriting, calling and re-calling, etc, etc,) turned on me like a rabid dog. And the only outlet for my OCD was the net's infinite drill down. Page after glorious page was felled by my handy mouse in my blind search for any mention of the book's name. I swear to God I could practically smell The Unincorporated Man on the Net. Alas, it had to stop. The veranda began to teeter (must of been when I put the pastrami on the dog).

You wait.
And wait.
And wait.
(however long it took you to read those last three sentences is pretty much about how long I waited).
And then you dive into the net like it's nobody's business. These are the types of questions OCD authors ask themselves:
- Is anyone blogging about us? (A: no, idiot, the ink hasn't even dried on the covers).
- Have we been reviewed yet? (A: Yes, sort of. No one's reviewed the final version of your book because, well, the ink hasn't even dried on the covers).
- Will they like us? (A: If you start going all Sally Fields on me I swear to God I'm gonna kick your metrosexual ass from here to Eros.)
4. ARE WE SELLING???
The really sad part about all of the above (besides its inherent patheticism) is that there's not a bloody thing you can do once the book's been released. That ship has sailed, sister. Oh, don't get me wrong, you can easily fool yourself into thinking all you need is a bacon cat to really push your book sales over the edge. Or perhaps if you add a few more cons to your schedule then maybe...just maybe...you'll have done enough.
Cue horrible moment of truth: You can never do enough.
Hovering over blogs where others argue about the merits of your work will not sell more books. Hourly checking your amazon.com ranking will do nothing but burn the amazon landing page image into your retinas (I think I need a screen saver for my eyes). No, friends, what all of this will do is drive you absolutely crazy. Fortunately I'm now inured. I've been to the edge so many times I actually bought land there and built myself a nice little veranda. Bleak can be beautiful, you just have to know how to stain it.
Here's the real irony--All the obsessiveness I used to my great advantage to get the thing published (writing and rewriting, calling and re-calling, etc, etc,) turned on me like a rabid dog. And the only outlet for my OCD was the net's infinite drill down. Page after glorious page was felled by my handy mouse in my blind search for any mention of the book's name. I swear to God I could practically smell The Unincorporated Man on the Net. Alas, it had to stop. The veranda began to teeter (must of been when I put the pastrami on the dog).
You're not supposed to have favorite cons (conventions). As a 'professional' you're supposed to, as does a good parent, like them all equally. Baycon beats them all -- so much for good parenting. Perhaps the lesson to be learned for any jealous or aspiring con directors reading this is to figure out what Baycon does so right that even when having an 'off' year as many Bacyconians claimed for 2009, it still managed to rise head and shoulders above its competitors. And perhaps that's not even a fair assesment. How, after all, could one compare apples and oranges, right? Let's take for example the granddaddy of them all, Worldcon. That one's easy -- too big. Don't get me wrong, it's an experience not to be missed...but it ain't no Baycon. Or another I can almost guarantee you've never heard of -- The Eaton Science Fiction Conference. Also, great for an intimate setting -- but kind of like a drive through, satisfying in the short but won't leave you feeling full for very long.
Here's what Baycon does right:
1. Panel-palooza. I've noticed a tendency for some cons to "theme-atize" every year and then keep their panels almost religiously to script. Well, there's only so many panels you can go to that are similarly themed before they all start to sound the same. Baycon always has a theme but its usually relegated to the costumers.
2. Costumers. Here's a lesson for any con director -- treat your costumers like the veritable gods that they are and you're guaranteed not only eye candy for the casual con goer you're guaranteed the good cheer this group always seems to have in droves. And Baycon *never* disappoints as each year the costumers vie to one up each other...and themselves. (See for yourselves by clicking this link)
3. Great extracurricular activity. From Regency dancing, to a DJ dance floor, to a gaming room, to live bands, to a yearly improvisational comedy panel -- all occurring simultaneously, Baycon has it all (and this year they were short two of them -- to much warranted grumbling -- and still managed to make it all work).
4. Friends. I'm not sure if this is cheating but I have a group of friends who go to this con year in and year out. Because of my schedule this is usually the only four day period a year I'll get to see them -- and I can't wait to see them. I know of no other con that engenders that "same time next year" feeling.
So if there's only one con you're thinking of attending make sure it's Baycon -- I assure you, you won't leave disappointed, you'll leave yearning for more.
Thanks for listening.
Dani
NOTE FROM DANI: Readers, I've sent out emails to a number of authors I've had the pleasure of paneling with asking them all the same question: Would you mind giving my readers some insight into what life was like in your first year of being an author? Below is Kage Baker's response. (PS - I added all the links).
I would also add that of all the well-known writers I've met this year Kage Baker was without question the most accommodating, graceful and patient of the lot. It's easy to feel like an idiot in your first few months as a newly minted author, Kage ameliorated that feeling with open arms, great advice and rapier wit.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kage_B aker
http://www.kagebaker.com/
From Kage:
It was, in many ways, terrifically anticlimactic after all the years I'd put in trying to get In the Garden of Iden published. Also humbling. There's nothing like going to your first con and giving a reading with only three listeners in the room, and they're your agent, your editor and your sister. You may be Published At Last but nobody knows who the heck you are, and they're too preoccupied with their masquerade costumes and anime marathons to bother with mere writers anyway. Fans Are Slans, my ass! The principal reaction I got from the rest of my immediate family was: "Great, you've got money now-- can I have eight hundred dollars to pay my traffic tickets so I don't go to jail?" They were affronted to learn that I'd only got a $7,000 advance and most of it had already been spent on selfish stuff like rent, groceries and car repairs.
On the other hand, there are moments to be savored: the first time you walk into a bookstore and THERE IT IS-- your baby, all shiny and glossy and with your name spelled right and everything. The first good review. The first time a real writer whom you respect shakes your hand and tells you your stuff is worth reading. I walked into the first con I ever attended and the fans were buying plastic action figures in the dealer rooms or playing with their lightsabers in the lobby, but over in the dark, quiet bar the writers were sitting. I thought: that's my tribe, all those faintly shabby, desperate-looking people with martinis. Yeah. I'm a writer now.
Kage
www.kagebaker.com
I would also add that of all the well-known writers I've met this year Kage Baker was without question the most accommodating, graceful and patient of the lot. It's easy to feel like an idiot in your first few months as a newly minted author, Kage ameliorated that feeling with open arms, great advice and rapier wit.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kage_B
http://www.kagebaker.com/
From Kage:
It was, in many ways, terrifically anticlimactic after all the years I'd put in trying to get In the Garden of Iden published. Also humbling. There's nothing like going to your first con and giving a reading with only three listeners in the room, and they're your agent, your editor and your sister. You may be Published At Last but nobody knows who the heck you are, and they're too preoccupied with their masquerade costumes and anime marathons to bother with mere writers anyway. Fans Are Slans, my ass! The principal reaction I got from the rest of my immediate family was: "Great, you've got money now-- can I have eight hundred dollars to pay my traffic tickets so I don't go to jail?" They were affronted to learn that I'd only got a $7,000 advance and most of it had already been spent on selfish stuff like rent, groceries and car repairs.
On the other hand, there are moments to be savored: the first time you walk into a bookstore and THERE IT IS-- your baby, all shiny and glossy and with your name spelled right and everything. The first good review. The first time a real writer whom you respect shakes your hand and tells you your stuff is worth reading. I walked into the first con I ever attended and the fans were buying plastic action figures in the dealer rooms or playing with their lightsabers in the lobby, but over in the dark, quiet bar the writers were sitting. I thought: that's my tribe, all those faintly shabby, desperate-looking people with martinis. Yeah. I'm a writer now.
Kage
www.kagebaker.com
