Thursday, 20 March 2014

"I am just going outside and may be some time."

I'm going to cancel the redirect to stroppyauthor.com so the blog reverts to stroppyauthor.blogspot.com. Then I'll wait a week until the deadline for payment has passed; then I'll redirect it with the new payment scheme.

If it fails, please look after my reindeer-skin sleeping bag.


Monday, 17 March 2014

Compulsory spring-clean?

I'm aware that I haven't kept my promise to be back more regularly after the house and baby. But that's on account of further family illness, not disinclination.

However, things are about to get complicated here in Stroppy Land, on account of Google/Blogger having messed up my account when changing their payment system. They want the money for the hosting of the name (that's fair, and I'm happy to pay it) but the changed system doesn't let me log in to the admin panel so I can't pay it. The old card has expired and there's no way of giving them a new card number. So as of 21st March, they are threatening to pull the plug. The only apparent way of talkng to them is a phone number in the USA, and I don't have a landline phone so that's going to cost A LOT. And I don't expect it to be resolved, anyway. So if Stroppy vanishes on that date... well, you've been warned. I can't even back up the posts because of their changes to the admin account.

I'm hoping we'll just revert to the old address and the posts will still be here. But if not - well, no one died. And I'll consider it a spring clean. Out with the spiders, but I'll be back.

And if anyone at Google/Blogger is listening - please get in touch with me using an email address I can reply to, not a no-reply address, because none of the Help stuff you have covers this, you haven't replied to any of my pleas through Feedback or twitter and I want to keep all my spiders!

Wednesday, 22 January 2014

Show me the money - or, rather, don't...

You're all used to me coming on here and ranting about how authors must be properly paid for their work. This isn't one of those rants. This is different.

First, an admission. I'm quite good at saying that the deal is not good enough (when it isn't) and asking for something fair. But I'm very bad at sending out invoices. It's OK with the books that my agent handles, as I don't have to send out invoices. And royalties are OK as they're self-billling. But the other stuff, advances, flat fees - no. I 'forget' or put it off. I rationalise that I can't be bothered to invoice in stages when each stage is a relatively small amount - I'd rather invoice the whole lot at once.

Yesterday I discovered why I do this.

It's not inefficiency - I'm efficient about all other aspects of the business of writing. It's not any difficulty with the process - I know how to do the invoicing and recording; after all, I've been doing it since 1988! I have thought about it before, but couldn't come up with any particularly convincing reason.

I've said many times that just because someone enjoys their work isn't a reason not to pay them properly. We pay surgeons and landscape gardeners and actors. But that's looking at it from the wrong side of the fence. That's challenging the problem of the world not wanting to pay us. This is from the writer's side of the fence, though.

I'm writing an adult book on psychology at the moment - quite a light-hearted book, that poses a series of questions and then anwers them with reference to classic studies in psychology. (That cover image has the wrong title. I know. Don't worry about it. Early days.) Anyway, I was writing up a study by Lepper into how inner motivation is reduced if outer motivation is supplied. Children who like to draw will draw less (spontaneously) if they are once offered a reward for drawing, as later they assume they did drawing for a reward (payment) rather than pleasure. The point is that we associate an external reward (money) with spending our time doing something we'd rather not do. So then we assume we didn't really like doing the thing (I didn't really like writing that book) because otherwise we wouldn't have been rewarded for doing it.

And that's why I don't like invoicing. I know I should be paid, I know I deserve to be paid - but I also know somewhere that I don't want to lose the inner motivation by knowing I'm being paid. And it's why I really like BACS because I don't have to take a cheque to the bank and see I'm being paid for it. It's nothing to do with embarrassment about payment, or feeling of low self-worth, or work-worth. It's about preserving the feeling that I do this job because I want to.

So all I need is an assistant to do my invoicing...

Friday, 17 January 2014

Making things in the real world

I've been away from here for a long time - longer than ever before. But I hope I'm back now. I've been making things in  the real world. Or, rather, helping or overseeing other people make things.

My daughter has had a baby. I have helped build a home for her little family to live in. And I've written some books, of course. I didn't make either the baby or the building, but I did a lot of support work with one and supervisory work and decision-making with the other. And it struck me as being rather like editing. The editor doesn't write the book, but helps it into the world, shapes its structure, makes sure the right people and materials are in place for it to get from idea to thing. And I feel proud of my daughter and grandchild and their new micro-house even though I didn't really make them, just as an editor is proud of the books in her list.

The baby was born last month, and the micro-house is ready for moving into this weekend. I will have more time to catch up on the writing projects that have slipped a bit, and to be back here, hassling and narking and whingeing and hoooraying as appropriate. This time last year, I didn't expect either project. Life is full of surprises. I hope this year brings you all good surprises.

Happy 2014!

Saturday, 7 December 2013

Contractual oddity

I found this interesting bit in a publishing contract I was signing this morning:

'If the Publishers decline to accept the typescript, they will set out their reasons for doing so... in a written notice of at least 250 words.'

I don't think I've seen that before - the publisher setting a word extent for their rejection letters. I suppose it means they can't reject the MS over twitter. And they can't reject it just be saying 'it's shit'. It means they have to give some critical feedback, I assume. But I guess they could use the 250 words saying just exactly how shit it is... I think I'd better write the books in this series well, as I don't want to read 250 words of how shit they are.