So I am now the proud owner of two published novels; that and five bucks bought me the iced coffee drink that’s sitting next to my laptop.
I got a form rejection letter from my first choice agent in the mail Monday. I had high hopes, had done my research, actually met the agent at a conference a couple of years ago and figured I had a decent shot, but alas nothing came of it.
That’s pretty much how the industry works. I have this theory that the vast majority of material sent to editors and publishers get turned down because it doesn’t deserve to be printed. That said once you’re “There” it’s still not easy to get published.
I’ve heard agents at conferences say that less than one percent of work submitted end up being represented. While a high percentage of what’s submitted isn’t fit to print I’m pretty sure that the percentage of publishable novels in the slush pile has to be at least slightly higher than one percent. I’ve read a lot of unpublished work so I’d probably say two to four percent of what’s submitted to agents is publishable. So not only do you have to have a worthwhile book you need to be submitting to the right agent at the right time with a good query package. It’s basically a big game of chance even if you have a stellar novel. I’ve heard that J.K. Rowling queried more than twenty agents, and once she had an agent most of the major YA publishers passed on Harry Potter before Bloomsberry picked her up.
Still it hurts to put your soul into something and have it turned down, especially when your top option gets eliminated. So you take a day, you get over it and research the next agent on the list. So long as you’re hitting professional agents there isn’t that much one agent can do for you that the next one can’t.
So by the time you read this my work will be submitted to another agent.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Obama, Bush and Mafia Wars
So I beat Mafia Wars last week.
For those of you who don’t know Mafia Wars is a Facebook game where you use your friends to build a fake Mafia network and complete mission and fight other people. They keep expanding the game so that you can’t ever really win, so that’s where I looked to our Presidents for an exit strategy.
Mafia Wars is a lot like fighting a war in Central Asia or the Middle East you can never really declare it over because there will always be people ready to fight, so I had a choice -- Bush or Obama.
With the Obama strategy I would simply pick a random date at some point in the future that would be convenient for me and quit Mafia Wars and never play it again regardless of where I was in the game’s story line. This strategy had several advantages, the most obvious being when I was done I’d be done. Also if I wanted to continue to play Mafia Wars I could alter the definition of what Mafia Wars is, and therefore not break my promise.
With the Bush Doctrine I would pick a target benchmark, not tell anyone what the benchmark was, and then end the game I reached that goal. While this left no clear end date, it would give the sense of accomplishment that would be lacking in a cold turkey stop.
So I had my decisions, either be convenient like Obama or grind it out like Bush. Like President Bush I understand that you’ll never win against an opponent that won’t acknowledge defeat, whether that’s Islamic terrorists or the programmers at Zynga. Like Obama I like the tidiness of having a date and being able to declare, “Hey, it’s over now I won,” regardless of the situation on the ground.
I decided to be like Bush. By grinding it out and continuing to play the game long after it ceased being fun I have helped bring freedom to other game apps. By completing the missions in New York, Cuba, Russia and Bangkok I have done all that was in my mission perimeters and have done what I set out to do. There is no failure in my part in not defeating Atlantic City or Vegas; they weren’t in the scope of my mission to begin with. I cannot solve all the problems in Mafia Wars, I can only do what I can and hope that freedom will spread.
Because of my actions in Mafia Wars I soon suspect that the people of YouVille will rise up against their oppressors, the Monsters of the Backyard will no longer fight and die based on the whimsy of their masters. That the Café’s in Café World will no longer be subject to external control.
I have brought freedom to Facebook apps; that is my legacy.
For those of you who don’t know Mafia Wars is a Facebook game where you use your friends to build a fake Mafia network and complete mission and fight other people. They keep expanding the game so that you can’t ever really win, so that’s where I looked to our Presidents for an exit strategy.
Mafia Wars is a lot like fighting a war in Central Asia or the Middle East you can never really declare it over because there will always be people ready to fight, so I had a choice -- Bush or Obama.
With the Obama strategy I would simply pick a random date at some point in the future that would be convenient for me and quit Mafia Wars and never play it again regardless of where I was in the game’s story line. This strategy had several advantages, the most obvious being when I was done I’d be done. Also if I wanted to continue to play Mafia Wars I could alter the definition of what Mafia Wars is, and therefore not break my promise.
With the Bush Doctrine I would pick a target benchmark, not tell anyone what the benchmark was, and then end the game I reached that goal. While this left no clear end date, it would give the sense of accomplishment that would be lacking in a cold turkey stop.
So I had my decisions, either be convenient like Obama or grind it out like Bush. Like President Bush I understand that you’ll never win against an opponent that won’t acknowledge defeat, whether that’s Islamic terrorists or the programmers at Zynga. Like Obama I like the tidiness of having a date and being able to declare, “Hey, it’s over now I won,” regardless of the situation on the ground.
I decided to be like Bush. By grinding it out and continuing to play the game long after it ceased being fun I have helped bring freedom to other game apps. By completing the missions in New York, Cuba, Russia and Bangkok I have done all that was in my mission perimeters and have done what I set out to do. There is no failure in my part in not defeating Atlantic City or Vegas; they weren’t in the scope of my mission to begin with. I cannot solve all the problems in Mafia Wars, I can only do what I can and hope that freedom will spread.
Because of my actions in Mafia Wars I soon suspect that the people of YouVille will rise up against their oppressors, the Monsters of the Backyard will no longer fight and die based on the whimsy of their masters. That the Café’s in Café World will no longer be subject to external control.
I have brought freedom to Facebook apps; that is my legacy.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Knowing verses learning
It’s a lot easier to know you have a publishable novel than to actually find that out.
Now that journalist is no longer a viable profession my life is set on a path that’s only acceptable outcome is life as a novelist. Yes, its not all I can do, but anything else would require a massive change, either a move to another city to work for yet another newspaper that may or may not lay me off or file for bankruptcy, or returning to school to chase a piece of paper.
I started writing my first novel in college, it was crap and never was finished. I made my first serious effort when in 2000 and prep sports writer in the wasteland that is rural North Carolina. I flogged away on that story through five complete re-writes over six years and honestly its still not publishable. It’s not unique, it’s not inventive, it doesn’t add anything or push the genre in any new direction, it’s just straight up epic fantasy and honestly it’s not even that good.
I kept working on that novel until the end of 2006 when I finally decided it just wasn’t strong enough to ever make a good story. Epic fantasy isn’t a hot genre, it’s hard to make a sale and again, honestly the book wasn’t that good, and after being told that by not just one, but two agents at a convention in Myrtle Beach I buried it.
I remember being cold, almost empty inside during the rest of that convention. I was so ready to be published, I just knew it. I had put so much work into the trilogy it just had to be good, it had to be. I had been told I was close by an agent whose a giant in my field, and damn it I had to be. I was close, perhaps talented, and a professional journalist. I felt entitled to success.
That weekend while driving the seven hours from back from Myrtle Beach something else began to form. I had a character in the back of my head for a few years and maybe it was time to take her out and let her run a bit. I’d move into urban fantasy, it’s a hotter genre, easier to get published and since I was already close it should be easy to crank out another novel and I was still less than a year
away from being published.
According to my computer’s records I started working on the next novel “Debt Dealer,” the day I got back from the conference. It was different but still very much a middle of the genre book. I thought it was the best thing ever and with about 45,000 words completely I went back to the Myrtle Beach conference again in 2007 for a critique and a slush session feed back.
Armed with my best effort to date I thought for sure I had broken through, only this time to be told it wasn’t unique or interesting by an agent whose a giant in the field and by the Publisher of Bane Books. I recorded the sit down critique I received from the publisher. I haven’t had the heart to listen to it, and the idea still makes me cringe almost four years later. She didn’t get past the first line of my synopsis before telling me she wouldn’t buy it and didn’t think anyone else would. While she was nice enough to say there were elements of my story and style she liked she didn’t feel it was unique or strong enough to sell.
So once again on a lengthy car trip from Myrtle Beach to Atlanta I made another decision. It wasn’t to start on any specific novel, but that was the last time anyone would tell me that my stories were too similar to something else. For better or worse I’d be off on my own, you might not like my work but I’m going to be damned if I’m going to go down because I sound too much like another author.
So here I am with a new book. It uses some of the same characters from the one the publisher spoke so disparagingly about but it sits on different ground, and I’m a different author. “Witch Queen” includes a number of the elements she said she liked and wanted to hear more of. It’s gone through four massive revisions, draws from largely untapped mythology and does things I’ve not seen the genre do before.
I don’t wonder anymore what people say when they refer to, “Finding your voice as an author,” because I’ve found mine, and I don’t sound like any author I read. I’ve read through this book five or six times and I love it. It’s me on a page, my politics, my beliefs, my structure, my narrative, my twists, my story. It’s me.
It’s being read by an increasing number of people. My brother straight up told me he didn’t like one draft, another reader tells me, “It’s going to be big, like Oprah Book Club big.” Of course the sample is biased, but I think I could be “there.”
The biggest difference this time I think is that I don’t expect anything. I’m hopeful, but after having my heart crushed so many times I don’t know if I’ll ever achieve anything.
It’s painful to drop your heart and soul into a mail box. The book has been ready for over two months, the cover letter, synopsis and first five pages printed and ready for over two weeks. I got it done Monday afternoon. In a few weeks I should hear back from the agent who had nice things to say about my work but passed on the chance to represent me five years ago.
Stand or fall this time I’m telling my own stories in my own voice.
Now that journalist is no longer a viable profession my life is set on a path that’s only acceptable outcome is life as a novelist. Yes, its not all I can do, but anything else would require a massive change, either a move to another city to work for yet another newspaper that may or may not lay me off or file for bankruptcy, or returning to school to chase a piece of paper.
I started writing my first novel in college, it was crap and never was finished. I made my first serious effort when in 2000 and prep sports writer in the wasteland that is rural North Carolina. I flogged away on that story through five complete re-writes over six years and honestly its still not publishable. It’s not unique, it’s not inventive, it doesn’t add anything or push the genre in any new direction, it’s just straight up epic fantasy and honestly it’s not even that good.
I kept working on that novel until the end of 2006 when I finally decided it just wasn’t strong enough to ever make a good story. Epic fantasy isn’t a hot genre, it’s hard to make a sale and again, honestly the book wasn’t that good, and after being told that by not just one, but two agents at a convention in Myrtle Beach I buried it.
I remember being cold, almost empty inside during the rest of that convention. I was so ready to be published, I just knew it. I had put so much work into the trilogy it just had to be good, it had to be. I had been told I was close by an agent whose a giant in my field, and damn it I had to be. I was close, perhaps talented, and a professional journalist. I felt entitled to success.
That weekend while driving the seven hours from back from Myrtle Beach something else began to form. I had a character in the back of my head for a few years and maybe it was time to take her out and let her run a bit. I’d move into urban fantasy, it’s a hotter genre, easier to get published and since I was already close it should be easy to crank out another novel and I was still less than a year
away from being published.
According to my computer’s records I started working on the next novel “Debt Dealer,” the day I got back from the conference. It was different but still very much a middle of the genre book. I thought it was the best thing ever and with about 45,000 words completely I went back to the Myrtle Beach conference again in 2007 for a critique and a slush session feed back.
Armed with my best effort to date I thought for sure I had broken through, only this time to be told it wasn’t unique or interesting by an agent whose a giant in the field and by the Publisher of Bane Books. I recorded the sit down critique I received from the publisher. I haven’t had the heart to listen to it, and the idea still makes me cringe almost four years later. She didn’t get past the first line of my synopsis before telling me she wouldn’t buy it and didn’t think anyone else would. While she was nice enough to say there were elements of my story and style she liked she didn’t feel it was unique or strong enough to sell.
So once again on a lengthy car trip from Myrtle Beach to Atlanta I made another decision. It wasn’t to start on any specific novel, but that was the last time anyone would tell me that my stories were too similar to something else. For better or worse I’d be off on my own, you might not like my work but I’m going to be damned if I’m going to go down because I sound too much like another author.
So here I am with a new book. It uses some of the same characters from the one the publisher spoke so disparagingly about but it sits on different ground, and I’m a different author. “Witch Queen” includes a number of the elements she said she liked and wanted to hear more of. It’s gone through four massive revisions, draws from largely untapped mythology and does things I’ve not seen the genre do before.
I don’t wonder anymore what people say when they refer to, “Finding your voice as an author,” because I’ve found mine, and I don’t sound like any author I read. I’ve read through this book five or six times and I love it. It’s me on a page, my politics, my beliefs, my structure, my narrative, my twists, my story. It’s me.
It’s being read by an increasing number of people. My brother straight up told me he didn’t like one draft, another reader tells me, “It’s going to be big, like Oprah Book Club big.” Of course the sample is biased, but I think I could be “there.”
The biggest difference this time I think is that I don’t expect anything. I’m hopeful, but after having my heart crushed so many times I don’t know if I’ll ever achieve anything.
It’s painful to drop your heart and soul into a mail box. The book has been ready for over two months, the cover letter, synopsis and first five pages printed and ready for over two weeks. I got it done Monday afternoon. In a few weeks I should hear back from the agent who had nice things to say about my work but passed on the chance to represent me five years ago.
Stand or fall this time I’m telling my own stories in my own voice.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Stupid Guest Tricks
I’ve lost track of how many times I think I’m jaded only to be surprised by new rude, stupid and selfish behavior.
I knew Friday night was going to be a bad shift when one woman at a table showed that she just didn’t understand where she was or what she was doing. Apparently she had a daiquiri before and knew she liked that, but wanted to try something else but just didn’t know how.
“Can you make the Tropical Martini into a daiquiri?” She asked.
There are so many things wrong with that question I didn’t know where to start. I think she was using the word daiquiri to mean any frozen drink, but a daiquiri isn’t always frozen. It’s just a rum based drink with rum, lime and sweetener, and martinis are made with vodka and gin so no you cant make a martini into a daiquiri, they’re two entirely separate things. It’s like asking if you can make an apple pie into a chocolate cake.
Rather than give a lecture explaining why what she was asking for was infantile I said no as politely as I could and suggested another drink.
She didn’t like my suggestion and her follow up question was, “Is the Typhoon Punch a daiquiri?”
She was totally like a kid with just one little word that she though she knew the meaning of, which she clearly didn’t, and that was all she could say. How do you answer that question without sounding condescending? The best I could come up with was, “No Ma’am, it’s a punch.”
I tried to get her to tell me what she was looking for so that maybe I could suggest a drink for her, but she just didn’t have the words to explain what she wanted. It reminded me a lot of trying to pull information out of my niece and nephew when they were little and didn’t have the vocabulary to tell you what they needed.
I thought that would be it for the weekend…
The first time I had a table that was hanging out and two out of the three of them had paid. Another table sat down and needed to be greeted and twice while I was talking to another table came over, interrupted me, talked over me tell me that one of his friends needed change that instant because they suddenly had to leave.
This guy didn’t even blink as he was being extremely rude to my other table, twice. He seemed like it was my fault for slowing them up even though I had been by the table twice and the third guy was so busy talking on his phone that he hadn’t bothered to pay his check. Seriously, how rude is that?
I really worry about where we’re going as a country. Put aside that none of these little Einsteins knew how to tip (Daiquiri girl left me $2 on $67, interrupting guy left me $1.30 on $23.70, and suddenly-in-a-hurry-to-get-his-$3-back guy didn’t leave anything) what does it say about our culture? These are some of the extreme examples but it seems to me that ignorance and selfishness seems to be the driving forces for a large portion of society.
I knew Friday night was going to be a bad shift when one woman at a table showed that she just didn’t understand where she was or what she was doing. Apparently she had a daiquiri before and knew she liked that, but wanted to try something else but just didn’t know how.
“Can you make the Tropical Martini into a daiquiri?” She asked.
There are so many things wrong with that question I didn’t know where to start. I think she was using the word daiquiri to mean any frozen drink, but a daiquiri isn’t always frozen. It’s just a rum based drink with rum, lime and sweetener, and martinis are made with vodka and gin so no you cant make a martini into a daiquiri, they’re two entirely separate things. It’s like asking if you can make an apple pie into a chocolate cake.
Rather than give a lecture explaining why what she was asking for was infantile I said no as politely as I could and suggested another drink.
She didn’t like my suggestion and her follow up question was, “Is the Typhoon Punch a daiquiri?”
She was totally like a kid with just one little word that she though she knew the meaning of, which she clearly didn’t, and that was all she could say. How do you answer that question without sounding condescending? The best I could come up with was, “No Ma’am, it’s a punch.”
I tried to get her to tell me what she was looking for so that maybe I could suggest a drink for her, but she just didn’t have the words to explain what she wanted. It reminded me a lot of trying to pull information out of my niece and nephew when they were little and didn’t have the vocabulary to tell you what they needed.
I thought that would be it for the weekend…
The first time I had a table that was hanging out and two out of the three of them had paid. Another table sat down and needed to be greeted and twice while I was talking to another table came over, interrupted me, talked over me tell me that one of his friends needed change that instant because they suddenly had to leave.
This guy didn’t even blink as he was being extremely rude to my other table, twice. He seemed like it was my fault for slowing them up even though I had been by the table twice and the third guy was so busy talking on his phone that he hadn’t bothered to pay his check. Seriously, how rude is that?
I really worry about where we’re going as a country. Put aside that none of these little Einsteins knew how to tip (Daiquiri girl left me $2 on $67, interrupting guy left me $1.30 on $23.70, and suddenly-in-a-hurry-to-get-his-$3-back guy didn’t leave anything) what does it say about our culture? These are some of the extreme examples but it seems to me that ignorance and selfishness seems to be the driving forces for a large portion of society.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
About a Dog
So my roommate is the nicest person that I know, and that means on occasion I have to be a nicer person than I plan on being. I'm a cat person. I like my roommate's dog but to me dogs are too attention starved and have to be walked too frequently to make ideal pets.
Over a month ago was the first time I head Diesel’s name, it was attached to a deadline that if someone didn’t find Diesel a home in the next two weeks he would “Be killed.” No details on how that would happen, only that it would.
As it turns out that Diesel is a pit bull suffering because of the selfishness of one of Charlie’s co-workers teenage daughters. She apparently bought Diesel in secret with her boyfriend during her senior year of high school. She had to adopt Diesel in secret because her mother is deathly allergic to dogs. The relationship did what most high school relationships do when high school ends, it ended as well and the guy didn’t want Diesel. Someone he ended at some guy’s house for over a year where he was underfed and the pads of his paws were scabs. Also he wasn’t neutered because the teenage girl felt his balls, and the aggression and sexual desire that comes with them, “Made him special.”
So we found a non-profit that did the surgery at cost or below and that has allowed us to list him with a few rescue shelters, but other than that we’re not much closer to finding him a home.
Diesel is an American Pit Bull Terrier which means he carries all of the fear and misunderstanding that comes with the word Pit Bull. He really is a sweet dog, but he scares people, and it’s not his fault.
With every day that passes I’m getting more pissed off at this girl I don’t know. Had she adopted say a Lab, or Shitzu, we wouldn’t be having this issue because it’s easy to find those breeds homes. But because she wanted a Pit it’s a lot harder to find a home for him. If we just put him up on Craigslist we’d be swamped with people who want to fight him.
He’s listed with a few rescue societies and several pleas have been made for a home on Facebook but nothing’s come of it, and I don’t expect anything to. One thing that I’ve learned from running a non profit is its very difficult to find people who are willing to do more than write a note of encouragement on Facebook.
I’ve been growing more resentful of the girl that started this whole thing this week. The roommate is on vacation this week and I have to re-arrange my days so that I can be home to take care of her dog. She hasn't even reached out at all to say, "Thanks for fixing the problem that I created with my own selfish behavior, let me financially compensate you for the disruption to your lives that I have caused to you, a total stranger. In fact I'm not even going to ask for your contact information just to even send you a short email thanking you for your effort on my behalf. I'm pretty, so I'm used to people doing things for me just because of that and I totally don't appreciate anything that has ever been done for me."
Like today for example; I’d plan on going down to Redeemer for Ash Wednesday services at noon then hanging out and writing in a coffee house for a few hours before going to work. I can't do that because I’m not really comfortable with leaving a dog in a crate over thirteen hours and I spent more all morning cleaning doggy diarrhea out of his crate, the walls, carpet and my roommate's bedding. I feel like I have to hang out at the house more than I normally do because I don’t want him crated all day and all night.
As I understand it she’s not trying to find Diesel a home anymore, not contributing to Diesel’s care and, "Wants to see Diesel one more time before we give him away.” So not only does she want us to house, feed, find a home and undo the damage she’s done to the dog, but she wants us to wait until there’s a time that fits her schedule to come over and say goodbye before we give him away; that's not the definition of self absorbed at all. She should just be lucky we're not taking him to a kill shelter.
If I have any say in what happens that’s not going to happen, the moment we find someone willing to take him he's gone. He's been here almost a month and she hasn't come by once. She’s more than welcome to come over and walk Diesel, take him to a dog park, you know, help out any time that fits her schedule but apparently she’s not interested in doing any of that. She is welcome to say her goodbyes but rather wait for us to find a home and then delay the handoff by a day or two so that she can say goodbye then, not by say coming over and taking him for a walk, or cleaning up the diarrhea he left in his crate and walls behind it last night, she just wants to inconvenience us just a few more days, because she can’t say goodbye until we've found him a home, of course... how silly of me it is to expect her to do anything to make my life, the man whose opened up his home to her dog, any easier.
The fact the roommate isn’t getting pissy about the arrogance this girl is showing just proves he’s a better person than I am.
Over a month ago was the first time I head Diesel’s name, it was attached to a deadline that if someone didn’t find Diesel a home in the next two weeks he would “Be killed.” No details on how that would happen, only that it would.
As it turns out that Diesel is a pit bull suffering because of the selfishness of one of Charlie’s co-workers teenage daughters. She apparently bought Diesel in secret with her boyfriend during her senior year of high school. She had to adopt Diesel in secret because her mother is deathly allergic to dogs. The relationship did what most high school relationships do when high school ends, it ended as well and the guy didn’t want Diesel. Someone he ended at some guy’s house for over a year where he was underfed and the pads of his paws were scabs. Also he wasn’t neutered because the teenage girl felt his balls, and the aggression and sexual desire that comes with them, “Made him special.”
So we found a non-profit that did the surgery at cost or below and that has allowed us to list him with a few rescue shelters, but other than that we’re not much closer to finding him a home.
Diesel is an American Pit Bull Terrier which means he carries all of the fear and misunderstanding that comes with the word Pit Bull. He really is a sweet dog, but he scares people, and it’s not his fault.
With every day that passes I’m getting more pissed off at this girl I don’t know. Had she adopted say a Lab, or Shitzu, we wouldn’t be having this issue because it’s easy to find those breeds homes. But because she wanted a Pit it’s a lot harder to find a home for him. If we just put him up on Craigslist we’d be swamped with people who want to fight him.
He’s listed with a few rescue societies and several pleas have been made for a home on Facebook but nothing’s come of it, and I don’t expect anything to. One thing that I’ve learned from running a non profit is its very difficult to find people who are willing to do more than write a note of encouragement on Facebook.
I’ve been growing more resentful of the girl that started this whole thing this week. The roommate is on vacation this week and I have to re-arrange my days so that I can be home to take care of her dog. She hasn't even reached out at all to say, "Thanks for fixing the problem that I created with my own selfish behavior, let me financially compensate you for the disruption to your lives that I have caused to you, a total stranger. In fact I'm not even going to ask for your contact information just to even send you a short email thanking you for your effort on my behalf. I'm pretty, so I'm used to people doing things for me just because of that and I totally don't appreciate anything that has ever been done for me."
Like today for example; I’d plan on going down to Redeemer for Ash Wednesday services at noon then hanging out and writing in a coffee house for a few hours before going to work. I can't do that because I’m not really comfortable with leaving a dog in a crate over thirteen hours and I spent more all morning cleaning doggy diarrhea out of his crate, the walls, carpet and my roommate's bedding. I feel like I have to hang out at the house more than I normally do because I don’t want him crated all day and all night.
As I understand it she’s not trying to find Diesel a home anymore, not contributing to Diesel’s care and, "Wants to see Diesel one more time before we give him away.” So not only does she want us to house, feed, find a home and undo the damage she’s done to the dog, but she wants us to wait until there’s a time that fits her schedule to come over and say goodbye before we give him away; that's not the definition of self absorbed at all. She should just be lucky we're not taking him to a kill shelter.
If I have any say in what happens that’s not going to happen, the moment we find someone willing to take him he's gone. He's been here almost a month and she hasn't come by once. She’s more than welcome to come over and walk Diesel, take him to a dog park, you know, help out any time that fits her schedule but apparently she’s not interested in doing any of that. She is welcome to say her goodbyes but rather wait for us to find a home and then delay the handoff by a day or two so that she can say goodbye then, not by say coming over and taking him for a walk, or cleaning up the diarrhea he left in his crate and walls behind it last night, she just wants to inconvenience us just a few more days, because she can’t say goodbye until we've found him a home, of course... how silly of me it is to expect her to do anything to make my life, the man whose opened up his home to her dog, any easier.
The fact the roommate isn’t getting pissy about the arrogance this girl is showing just proves he’s a better person than I am.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Goodbye to CDs
I think I bought the last CD I’ll ever buy on Monday.
Before this I want to say the last CB I bought was Dave Matthews solo album? That was in 2003? Like the rest of the CDs I’ve bought its sitting in a box in my closet collecting dust with several folders of pictures and several computer programs that are compatible with Windows 95.
I was out running some errands and a new song I’d never heard before came on and I really, really liked it. The DJ said that every song on the album was brilliant and since I was out and near a Best Buy I wanted to see if Best Buy actually still sold music.
Most of my CDs were bought in college when trips to Best Buy and Media Play were hours long affairs where we’d pour through the racks of games and music. Now the CD section was this tiny little section that might have been a fifth of what it was a couple of years ago.
To my surprise they had Adel’s second album 21. I figured that was as good as anything to make my final purchase and so I bought my first album in almost ten years and probably the last one of my life. I put it into my car and had to laugh because when I started the engine the CD player stopped and had to restart.
Newspapers are one of the first casualties of the fire that is the internet, music is the second. Eminem’s “Recovery” was the top selling album of 2010 and sold 3.4 million copies. Ten years ago Recovery would have been the 10th selling album, Also Media Play was still in business. Digital downloading is slowly but assuredly destroying the way music is sold, within ten years you won’t be able to buy a CD of a new album because they won’t exist in this country anymore.
Eventually the internet will consume every creative field. Books, movies, gaming, anything that doesn’t have to be physically held in the hands will eventually be dominated by digital downloads on the internet. In the future I see retail being reduced to physical consumer goods. We will never be able to digitize a grocery store, we will always need furniture, but we won’t always need bookstores.
There will come a day in my lifetime where you won’t be able to buy a new hard back release because they won’t exist in a physical form.
Before this I want to say the last CB I bought was Dave Matthews solo album? That was in 2003? Like the rest of the CDs I’ve bought its sitting in a box in my closet collecting dust with several folders of pictures and several computer programs that are compatible with Windows 95.
I was out running some errands and a new song I’d never heard before came on and I really, really liked it. The DJ said that every song on the album was brilliant and since I was out and near a Best Buy I wanted to see if Best Buy actually still sold music.
Most of my CDs were bought in college when trips to Best Buy and Media Play were hours long affairs where we’d pour through the racks of games and music. Now the CD section was this tiny little section that might have been a fifth of what it was a couple of years ago.
To my surprise they had Adel’s second album 21. I figured that was as good as anything to make my final purchase and so I bought my first album in almost ten years and probably the last one of my life. I put it into my car and had to laugh because when I started the engine the CD player stopped and had to restart.
Newspapers are one of the first casualties of the fire that is the internet, music is the second. Eminem’s “Recovery” was the top selling album of 2010 and sold 3.4 million copies. Ten years ago Recovery would have been the 10th selling album, Also Media Play was still in business. Digital downloading is slowly but assuredly destroying the way music is sold, within ten years you won’t be able to buy a CD of a new album because they won’t exist in this country anymore.
Eventually the internet will consume every creative field. Books, movies, gaming, anything that doesn’t have to be physically held in the hands will eventually be dominated by digital downloads on the internet. In the future I see retail being reduced to physical consumer goods. We will never be able to digitize a grocery store, we will always need furniture, but we won’t always need bookstores.
There will come a day in my lifetime where you won’t be able to buy a new hard back release because they won’t exist in a physical form.
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