And The Point Is…?

The point is: Get ’em while they’re hot. Or, at least, visible.

El Libro que No Puede Esperar (The Book That Can’t Wait) is the brainchild of Argentinian publisher Eterna Cadencia. In a push to promote emerging Latin American authors to a wider audience, the new anthology is printed in disappearing ink. Once you’ve removed the wrapping and exposed the book to air and light, the ink begins to fade. Pages become blank after 60 days. The printed word takes on a whole new urgency.

Great gimmick, but I’m not sure what I would think if my first published story ended up a clutch of blank pages.

[Photo from designboom.]

So Long, Snoopy, Snoopy, So Long

y father took great care in choosing cards for people. Whether for a specific occasion or for no reason at all, the card had to speak to him as well as to the recipient. (Frankly, this is how all of us should choose our cards.)

I’ve saved most of the cards he sent to me over the years, knowing how much of him was in each one. (Confession: When we moved, I parted ways with the Snoopy cards. Eons ago I played the part of Snoopy in a small production of You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown. Loved the role at the time, but didn’t expect it to follow me into the Golden Years. Dad kept the flame lit.)

Mindful of my father’s perspective, I tried to reciprocate with my card choices for him. Sometimes this felt like an exercise in futility. The major greeting-card companies didn’t seem to have a handle on my personality. But one year, the gods of the cards came to my rescue for Father’s Day.

A publication I oversaw needed cover art that easily connected to one of the stories inside. It was a June issue, so there was also a need to give a nod to Father’s Day somewhere in the issue. Holidays usually inspired us to find cover art that did double duty—that worked as well for the special occasion as for a particular story.

We were coming up empty though—running out of ideas and time. I was desperate enough to start thumbing through my own boxes of photos and memorabilia. That’s how I found it.

The photograph from my childhood prominently featured my father (in what some might think a humiliating position) in a spontaneous musical moment with his youngest daughter. Silliness reigned.

The photo tied in with both the holiday and with a story about hearing a different beat in life and following that rhythm. (My father bristled at being labeled a conformist. He relished being a little outside the norm.) On the inside cover, I published this note for him:

ABOUT THE COVER: By example, this man encouraged me to see joy and meaning in everyday things. And to imagine what I wanted as something I already had. He convinced me that there’s always something new to learn and to always have a Plan B. He made sacrifices so that my life would be what his hadn’t been. And for all these reasons, I feel grateful and privileged. This man, Robert S. Jackson, is my father. Happy Father’s Day, Dad!

Voilà! Instant Father’s Day card!

I don’t remember the gift I sent that year. It was secondary to the perfect card, which I knew my father would like. However, I couldn’t have imagined just how much pleasure he would derive from it. He wrote to me that now he’d made it to the cover of a magazine, maybe he’d try to get onto a calendar next. I’d forgotten when I made the cover art choice that my father bought this same pocket-size, inspirational publication in bulk and sent it to all his clients each month. He didn’t hesitate (as I would have) sharing the incriminating shot of silliness. He got a LOT of mileage from it over the years.

Once again, it’s time to pay tribute to dads. This is the first Father’s Day I won’t have to obsess about finding the perfect card and gift. Mission already accomplished.

[Drop cap by Jessica Hische.]

Desserted No More

You’ve no doubt heard the (astonishing?) news that the U.S. economy is not recovering as expected.

Even this month, just as hiring seemed to be picking up in the publishing industry, another 100 publishing professionals in a single company lost their jobs to an acquisition.

I feel for them.

This bit of “Twitter Nonfiction” tidily sums up what so many folks have experienced over the past few years:

“Monday, returning manager, white layer cake. Friday, retiring supervisor, Italian cream cake. Weekend, 23 pink slips, no cake.”
—From Creative Nonfiction magazine, by Ralphley

How sweet it isn’t.

[Majolica painted cake by JollyBe Bakery.]

Get Lost in Translations

Weeks and weeks ago, writer Aleksandar Hemon showed up in Time magazine—a whole page devoted to him. In fact, he's gotten lots of mainstream press recently, as has his publisher, Dalkey Archive Press (which I've mentioned on Lull numerous times). Hemon's book, Best European Fiction 2010, is being touted as a must-read, especially for folks who take their translations in small doses.

If you're like me—an avid reader who reads very few new translations of books—it's time to stretch and see what we've been missing. In addition to the Dalkey Archive Press, check out Open Letter Books, the University of Rochester's publishing arm that specializes in translations.

Or go to UR's literary site, Three Percent. The name is a reference to the percentage of all books published in the U.S. that are translations. Translated literary fiction and poetry represent only 0.7 percent of the books. With numbers like this, you probably won't find a translated novel on that 3 for 2 table at your local Borders.

So rely on these Web sites to give you the latest news about translations, and synopses that will help you choose something you're interested in. Then, expand your world with a novelist you don't know.

"A book is an axe to the frozen sea around us."
—Franz Kafka

[Art courtesy of Picasso.]

Rage Against the Machine

Employees at many (most?) companies consider the HR people "them" or "other." The reasons vary, some undeserved. But earlier this week I got a full dose of the mayhem an HR department can cause.

I was doing what unemployed people do with their time: applying for a job online. Here's how the madness unfolded.


Eureka!
I found the job late Saturday. It seemed like one I was qualified for, so I started researching the company.

The company was fairly large (room for career movement), produced goods I wouldn't mind being affiliated with (nonfiction books), and was headquartered in an historic town (a picturesque relief from my current situation). All good.

Only one problem: There was a deadline for applying. I had until midnight to get my cover letter and résumé put together.


Deadline Looming
I wrote the cover letter and proceeded to fill out the online application. At the top of the app., some fields were asterisked in red and a note explained that red indicated you were required to complete those fields. Looked at another way, the fields not asterisked in red were optional.

So I skipped filling in the work history beyond the 12 years at my last job and at 11:45 pm, all I had left to do was attach my cover letter and résumé. The app. software allowed me to choose any one file but not actually attach it. When I chose my second file, it seemed to replace the first one. Then the program wouldn't allow me to delete the file and start over.


Deadline Hits
At midnight, I decided to write a note about the difficulty—explaining I would try to find a workaround—and hit "Submit" just to get the app. in by the deadline. Then I e-mailed the company that created the software and searched the Web for someone outside the HR department at the publishing house to send my files to.

Surprisingly, I reached a live person at the software company around 2 am. We volleyed e-mails for a bit, but to no avail. At 5 am I finally went to bed, no closer to a solution than I was 5 hours before.


Monday, Monday…
Can't Trust that Day
Though I wanted to call the publishing house first thing in the morning, I was due in court as a witness AND, more to the point, my cellphone service sucks. I couldn't risk a dropped call while I was asking for a favor.

So I called in the afternoon and the very polite receptionist said she'd talk to HR on my behalf. She called back moments later to relay the following information from "them":
1. They received my application at 12:15, so it was too late.
2. I submitted an incomplete application.
(Remember all the fields I said weren't marked "required"?)
3. But they'll allow me to submit a second application.
(How? They'd already taken down the listing from all the job boards.)
4. They accept only Word docs.
(Not the file types listed on the actual application: .pdf, .txt, .rtf, and .doc.)

Did they think I would just slink away? Give up? Little did they know that all the bullying life's thrown my way this year has given me a new kind of determination. All I'd wanted was an e-mail address I could send a couple of files to. But I'd do it their way.

So I found a way to open a generic application on the publisher's Web site and I answered every bloody question—even if all I wrote was "NA" or "I don't know." I wrote a note about it being my second attempt, then realized what time it was.

Drat! It was 5 minutes before I was supposed to meet a friend. I called him to say I'd be late, but all I had to do was press a few buttons and I'd be done.

But as soon as I hung up from my friend, I hit the button and…the Big Nothing AGAIN. I ended up copying and pasting my files into the little box I'd used to write notes. I had no time to review or proofread anything, which is a shame because so much can go awry when moving text from one software program to another. I shudder to think what my letter and résumé looked like to the readers at the other end.


On behalf of job-seekers everywhere, I have a message for HR people:
You should choose technology that says and does exactly what you expect. Want a Word file? Then the app. shouldn't say it accepts four different types of files. Want every field completed? Then say so. If the software provider can't customize it properly for you, then find someone else who can. Don't ignore the defaults of the system. They can give false impressions to candidates, wasting your time and theirs.

Say what you mean and mean what you say.

Thankfully, I know an HR department isn't necessarily a reflection of the company for which it toils. And I know the HR department isn't responsible for the programming. But still. HR bought the program, didn't it? Did anyone bother testing it? Is it not compatible with Macs? Why wouldn't it upload my files?!

Maybe it's just my karma kicking in. But if what goes around really does come around, then whoever signed off on that application may find themselves eliminated from Santa's Good List.

Oh, you better watch out…

Hats Off to Book Bloggers

I'm a little late in getting the news out, but this is Book Blogger Appreciation Week. If you like books, then there's no doubt a blogger out there covering exactly what catches your fancy.

You could spend all day going from one book blog to another. They're written by critics, industry insiders, literary agents, and everyday people who love to read. They're written for collectors, librarians, average readers, and up-and-coming writers. They're written about a single genre (including YA, kids, romance, graphic, memoir, and vampire), all genres, indie presses, publicity, and every topic related to the writing and publishing and reading of a book.


If you've never looked at a book blog, here's a random list to get you started. These aren't the most popular or the best or the worst or the ones I think you'll like. They're just some of them. Explore the links the bloggers give you on each one and pretty soon you'll have your own fave book blogs to follow.


Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast
Hip Librarians Book Blog
Bookslut
Paper Cuts
Pimp My Novel
Bermudaonion's Weblog
Hey Lady! Whatcha Readin'?


[Thanks to Liam Quin for the shot of the antique alphabet books.]

Weebling through Tough Times

There are a few industries that have been hit harder than most during the recession. I say "during" because though the recession exacerbated the problems faced by these industries, it was not the original cause of their downward spiral. My industry, for example—publishing—has been riding the eye of the hurricane for some time now. And there have been enough mainstream headlines about it that even my hometown knows how dismal prospects are.

However, there are lots of industries we don't readily consider during downturns like this, and one such industry is documentary filmmaking.

Unlike blockbuster films filled with mayhem and celebrities, documentaries serve a different purpose in our world: to reveal truth and encourage understanding. Which I suppose for some viewers and investors is akin to having vile-tasting cough syrup forced down their throats. So even in the best of economic times, documentary filmmakers confront challenges to solvency and distribution.

I bring this up because The Lull has given me time to think about the kind of work that would be meaningful for me, and nature documentaries are on the list. I'm interested both in writing them and narrating them. But then, when  I review my list, most of the work that has meaning for me is lean in the $$$ department. And to try, during a recession, to get into a new line of work that is already inherently lean in the $$$ department seems a tad foolhardy when your household depends on you to feed them.

So I have great admiration for folks who continue against the odds to create documentaries. Especially those with high-minded ideals like the people behind Mind-Made Media. The underlying motive in their projects is to "inspire others to live heartily and successfully." And isn't that what all of us caught in The Lull want?

The producer behind Mind-Made Media, Alexandra Austin, recently paid a visit to Lull and, to my astonishment, enjoyed her visit. (She said so—I'm not making this up!) She writes a blog, The Mind-Made Muse, on which you can view some of the inspiring documentaries from her company and donate to if possible. (Note: Ms. Austin did NOT ask for a plug or a donation link. I'm simply incorporating her into my recent ruminations about getting into her field.)

We "Lullers" are a diverse and widespread lot. And we shall overcome, come what may.