Exit Ghost

Exit le fantôme, Philippe Roth

Nathan Zuckerman vit en ermite depuis plus de onze ans, à plus de deux-cents kilomètres de New-York. Mais vient toujours un jour où l’ermitage doit voir partir son locataire, pour un temps plus ou moins long. Dans le cas de Zuckerman, ce n’est rien moins que sa vessie qui fait office de déclencheur ; parce qu’elle se déclenche trop souvent, justement. Agé de plus de soixante-dix ans, notre monsieur souffre d’incontinence, en plus d’une impuissance liée à un ancien cancer de la prostate. Pas de chance…

Pourtant, après une vie où rien ne se passait, où tout était réglé, c’est la chance, ou plutôt le hasard, auxquels Zuckerman cède la place. En deux jours à New-York, il se retrouve plus de fois confronté aux hasards de la vie qu’au cours des onze dernières années. On aurait pu croire que le monsieur, cet écrivain double de l’auteur, se serait terré bien à l’abri dans sa chambre d’hôtel, sans bouger, avec ses vieux livres, en attendant que la tempête passe. Mais contre toute attente, c’est l’inverse qui se produit.
Notre homme, parfois victime d’un alzheimer naissant qui lui embrouille l’esprit, répond présent à toutes ces sollicitations du destin. New-York ça bouge ; alors il joue le jeu, et entre dans la ronde un peu diabolique de toutes les tentations de la grande ville.

La première des opportunités n’est pas des moindres : une annonce pour échange de maisons avec un couple de new-yorkais. La trentaine, lui bon parti et aimant, elle riche et séductrice. En plus de l’aventure du déménagement (qui aurait pu suffire à notre homme vu son âge, mais ne faisons pas dans l’humour noir), c’est l’aventure de la passion qui repointe le bout de son nez après toutes ces années d'hibernation. Jamie fascine Nathan, et il ne cesse d’imaginer des scénarii en forme de dialogue entre elle, la jeune femme désirable, et lui, l’homme terni et diminué par l’âge. Une quinzaine d’années plutôt, alors qu’ils se rencontraient pour la première fois, lui grand écrivain, elle étudiante à la plume attentive, il semblait lui avoir plu. Mais maintenant, les années ayant laissé leurs traces, la fascination n’est plus vraiment de la partie, et encore moins l’attirance…

Bref, il tente de séduire une jeune femme bien plus jeune, alors que tout autour de lui lui montre qu’il n’est plus vraiment à la hauteur du rôle. La porte de sortie et son panneau Exit semblent clignoter quelque part… 

Richard Kilman est l’un de ceux qui, du haut de leur jeunesse musclée, lui rappellent qu’il n’est plus l’homme vaillant et plein d’espoir qu’il était. Ce Richard tueur d’homme (mais Zuckerman n’est-il pas déjà en passe de devenir un fantôme ?) cherche à réaliser la biographie de Lonov, un écrivain oublié qui aurait emporté avec lui un lourd secret, un secret à la mesure d’un Daniel Hawthorne (je ne spoilerai pas, même si ça n’a pas grande incidence sur le cours de l’histoire :p). Zuckerman, à juste titre, estime que ce serait tuer une seconde fois cet homme, dont la renommée littéraire, déjà bien mince, serait alors réduite à néant. Il s’oppose donc à Kilman, lequel, en plus de potentiellement devenir un biographe assassin, est également l’amant de Jamie, statut tant convoité par Zuckerman…

Au fil des rencontres et des opportunités, pendant une semaine plus riche en rebondissements que ses onze dernières années d’existence, on l’a dit, Zuckerman va peu à peu se rendre compte qu’il n’a plus tellement sa place dans le monde, mais aussi que la littérature et sa part de fiction se font peu à peu dévorées par le jeu de la vérité (où est l’autre moi proustien pour un homme comme Kilman ?), et que le monde va à vau-l’eau (il arrive à New-York en plein milieu des élections de 2004 qui voient la victoire de Bush). Tout semble bien flou et prêt à disparaître, comme ce fantôme, ce double de Roth, Zuckerman, qui signe semble-t-il avec ce roman la fin de sa carrière.

Le titre me fait d'ailleurs penser à une mise à pied, le créateur reprenant le dessus sur sa création, dans un dernier sursaut d’espoir, peut-être celui qui tout cela n’est bien été que de la fiction…

Le coeur cousu (et surtout ému)

Le cœur cousu, Carole Martinez

Soledad nous raconte une histoire surprenante : celle de Frasquita, sa mère, couturière magicienne. Aiguilles en main, cette jeune femme a, dès ses débuts, fait montre de talents exceptionnels. Mais comme elle le découvrira une nuit, initiée par sa mère à elle, elle n’est pas seulement une couturière hors pair ; elle a surtout des dons magiques. Rebouteuse aux fils arc-en-ciel, Frasquita va alors accomplir un certain nombre de miracles ; tout ce qu’elle touche de son aiguille se transforme, se sublime ou reprend vie.

Heureusement qu’elle a ces dons Frasquita, puisque dans son village, rien ne va comme elle le voudrait. La statue de vierge manque de vie ? Pas de problème, (attention je spoile !)on va lui coudre un cœur, et elle va rayonner. Son mari voit son coq favori anéanti lors d’un combat ? Rien de plus simple pour Frasquita que de recoudre plumes et plaies. Un jour c’est même un homme laissé pour mort à qui elle redonne visage humain. Tout ce qu’elle touche se transforme, se met à rayonner, à aimer même. Mais malgré tout, un jour, Frasquita quitte son village. Elle a été jouée par son mari (au sens propre!), et en plus de cela l’ogre sévit, et risque de s’attaquer à sa nombreuse progéniture. La jeune femme a en effet eu plusieurs enfants, des filles et un garçon, tous ayant une particularité : l’une ne parle pas, l’autre a aussi des dons, la dernière est revenue de la mort et le garçon est roux (conception moyennâgeuse de la rousseur, mais on est dans un conte, tout est possible !) . Soledad, la plus jeune, la toute dernière, née dans le sable du désert, est quant à elle, comme son nom le laisse entendre et comme on l’apprend dès l’incipit, destinée à la solitude.

A l’extérieur comme à l’intérieur du village, tout est un peu magique autour de Frasquita. Dans ce roman qui flirte avec l’épopée et le conte, on rencontre des sages-femmes un peu sorcières, des médecins mangeurs d’enfants, des révolutionnaires sanguinaires et des héros sans peur. Avec un tel casting, promesse est assurée : on ne s’ennuie pas.

Certes, certains épisodes doivent être pris tels qu’ils sont : fabuleux, dignes d’un conte, un peu abracadabrantesques donc. Mais dès lors que l’on garde cela en mémoire au cours de la lecture (presque 400 pages tout de même), on n’est presque jamais déçu.

Un dernier point est à noter : la dimension métatextuelle de l’ouvrage. La métaphore du fil, du tissu, de la couture, n’est pas sans rappeler l’étymologie du texte, à l’origine un tissu sur lequel on écrit. Soledad, qui raconte l’histoire de sa mère, n’a de cesse de nous rappeler qu’avec ses aiguilles, cette femme a tissé sa vie, comme à la fin elle l’a fait avec les robes de mariées de ses filles. Un destin retracé, cousu et recousu, harmonieux ou rapiécé, qui ne laisse pas en tout cas le lecteur indifférent.

The Politics of FREE: Fear, Loathing and “Drive-by Disses” in the Land of Book Freebies

So, the first months of 2012 have pretty much been Eight Straight Weeks of FREE for me. Medallion started things off with two flippin’ weeks of offering Zombies Don’t Cry for FREE on Kindle and Nook!

Then Decadent rocked five whole days of FREE for both Ushers, Inc. and Panty Raid at Zombie High. THEN Medallion kicked off my new YA release by offering Vamplayers FREE for another two weeks. It has been an amazing, crazy, high, low, rewarding, disappointing, challenging, and all kinds of educational ride.

I’m not exactly unacquainted with the politics of FREE. From the minute I heard that Zombies Don’t Cry would be published early last year, I started writing, polishing and publishing FREE stories and poems about the living dead. Mostly they were promotional, but also a chance to try new things outside of the world I created for ZDC. Some were funny, some were sad, some were scarier than others but all had one thing in common: they were FREE.

Then I found out Vamplayers would get published, so I started doing the same for vampires: lots of short, sweet, some funny, some scary – all FREE – vampire poems and short stories.

They got some decent play on Scribd.com and Smashwords, where the reviews were mostly 4-stars; a few 3-stars, one or two 5-stars. Not too shabby.

But Scrid.com and Smashwords are one thing; Amazon, BN.com and Goodreads are another. To be FREE on Amazon.com for one week, let alone two weeks, is to ride a roller coaster of emotions. You’re up, you’re down, you’re checking your numbers, trying to get to #1 on the FREE Kindle list, settling for #12 or #23 or however high – or low – you land.

You see your book suddenly listed on all these Freebie sites, which seem to exist JUST to list… freebies. It’s awesome and a little scary all at once. Then your book starts showing up in a lot of bloggers’ “In My Mailbox” features, naturally, because it’s a freebie so if they haven’t gotten it from your publisher, or you, here is a chance to snag it for their TBR pile; it’s all good.

But there’s something a little strange about the freebie mentality as well. I mean, if your book costs something, even 99-cents, it tends to weed out the freebie book hoarders. Or at least, give people who aren’t YA, who don’t dig zombies or vampires, pause. Things are more targeted when there is a cost involved, I think; people will think twice before buying a book, but when it’s a freebie it’s almost like they’ll just grab anything.

We’ve all been there; why not? I have a ton of freebies in my Kindle for PC library, half of which – let’s face it, most of which – I’ll never read. But there’s a freedom to all this freeness; it gives random people cause not only to notice you – although they don’t really seem to care about you – and your book (ditto) and as such they almost feel empowered, even obliged, to comment.

I’ll never forget reading the comments on the Barnes & Noble blog the day Zombies Don’t Cry was featured as their Friday Freebie. One guy said “not even for free.” I knew exactly what he meant; you do, too. He meant, “I wouldn’t read this book even if you gave it to me.”

Others chimed in, with a pack mentality, dogging the title, the book, the genre and, by association, the author. You could kind of see them feeding on each other; once somebody said something nasty, everyone else was “free” to chime in and add insult to injury as well. It stung, for sure.

You think after the book’s been out for almost a year, you’d have a thick skin; not so much. And then, after a few days of it being free and adding to people’s “to-read” list, the reviews start coming in on Goodreads. And that’s where the real ugly started!

Man, it was like an avalanche of ick. Within a week, maybe even less, Zombies Don’t Cry went from a solid 4-plus star rating to an ugly 3.7 something; and it’s still creeping down.

Every day is like a death watch; you think it’s holding steady, you think it’s bottomed out, and then some wise guy comes along and gives it a 1-star; no profile picture, no review, no comments, just a quick double-click and, bam, down the rating goes some more. I call them “drive-by disses,” ‘cause that’s what they seem to do. You can click on their profile and see they do that to a lot of other authors well. Which makes you feel a little better, but not much.

I get it, Zombies Don’t Cry isn’t War & Peace, it may not even be Rot & Ruin, but… 1-star? Really? In my world, I guess, I check out of a one-star leaning book and quit reading before I review it. Heck, I can’t even remember reading a book so bad I’d give it 1-star.

It’s more than sour grapes (although I suppose it’s that, too); it’s a commentary on the ugliness, the pettiness and, yes, the politics that makes social media, publishing and promoting YA such frickin’ WORK these days. It’s not bad enough you have to constantly edit your actual book, now I have to edit myself so I don’t go off on every ungrateful, thoughtless freebie-addicted so and so for trashing my book(s) every chance they get!

On the flip side, freebies are great for actual YA, zombie or genre fans who may not have had the chance to pick up your book before. I see lots more “likes” on my Facebook page by random users who I can tell probably just ran across me from the freebies, and their enthusiasm and support is really positive and uplifting. And it’s an awesome chance to reach out to readers who may have never heard of you before, and maybe find a new “fan” or two.

I see lots and lots of reviews starting out with, “I would never have picked this book up if it wasn’t free” or “I’ve never really been a big fan of zombies before, but I saw this on Kindle for free and…” That’s nice. It’s like using a hashtag that gets you in front of a lot of eyeballs who wouldn’t normally find you via #zombies or #amwriting or #yalit, you know?

So, what am I saying? That I only like the reviews that are “nice” to me? That I only appreciate readers who “get it”? That I only like to be in rooms where I’m welcome? Not at all; I get that Zombies Don’t Cry, Ushers, Inc., Panty Raid and Vamplayers aren’t for everybody. I get they’re not all five-star books. I get that some folks don’t dig active voice, first person POV or, for that matter, snark.

So, I dunno. I have absolutely NO regrets. I think both the publishers and myself learned a LOT about the “politics of FREE” from these exercises. I could write a whole book on the experience, and maybe for those of you who’ve read this whole piece it feels like I already have, but in summary: giving your book away for FREE is pretty much part of the new social media PR routine.

Lots of readers will expect it, but even more, so should you. It’s good, it’s mostly good; I feel mostly good about it. I was just unprepared, I think, for the ugliness, pettiness and politics of certain camps who have grown up to expect, demand and then turn around and kind of spit on authors who offer their books for free.

It’s so easy these days to be random, to be ugly and a little petty. I get it; it’s the internet. And I don’t want to just be isolated, or even insulated, in a little bubble where I only get friendly reviews from friendly reviewers and think I’m a better writer than I really am; I’m not sure that’s a good recipe for growth.

But I’m not sure a lot of these freebie reviews are good for growth, either. They’re not constructive, they’re not concerned, they’re not targeted and, like I said, they’re mostly random. Non-zombie people, non-vamp people, non-YA people and, in many cases, non-book people, I think. By that I mean, folks who have a Kindle or a Nook but may not necessarily have a love of the written word, or books, or YA or especially authors.

So, yeah, I’m bummed; more so than I thought I was when sitting down to write this post. And maybe I sound petty and a little bitter and, yeah, I’m probably both of these things, too!

What I feel like, mostly, is a piece of meat. Like I had one too many beers and entered a wet T-shirt contest and walked offstage to see a bunch of downturned thumbs and hastily scribbled “3’s” and “4’s” on those scorecards as people “booed” me back to my chair. “Sit down, clown; your zombies suck!”

So I hope your experience with FREE is a little, okay a LOT, better than mine; as a reader, finding books and/or as an author, offering books. Why did I write this post? I suppose, in the end, I know most/every author will have to offer their book for FREE at some point. Now, hopefully, you know what to expect…

Yours in YA,

Rusty

Why I Stopped Buying Popcorn: An Ode to Indie Authors

Anyone who follows this blog knows I watch a lot of movies. Heck, anyone who’s ever read any of my books knows I watch a lot of movies! From Ushers, Inc. to Double Feature of the Living Dead, half my titles have to do with the movies.

I say all that to say this: I eat a LOT of movie popcorn. I can only imagine how many bags of popcorn I’ve inhaled since I began attending movies regularly at the ripe old age of, say, thirteen?

Thirty-plus years of gorging myself twice a week? Holy cripes, my arteries must look like the inside of some ancient cave, with stalactites and stalagmites full of FAT pinching off my blood flow by the hour! Gawd, I'm getting short of breath just thinking about it! (And don’t even get me started on the damage done by my Little Debbie addiction; that’s a whole other blog post and/or medical file.)

But I’m also addicted to something else: independent authors. I’ve met so many of them during my travels from Twitter to Amazon, from Facebook to Goodreads and back again. From Trisha Wolfe to Tori Scott, from M. R. Merrick to William Van Winkle, from Deb Ryan to Ciar Cullen and SO many more I could list.

And oftentimes I’ll see them with a new book release, and think – usually on my way to another new movie – “I should buy that!” But I’m already out the door, and then I forget, and then another week goes by and I see another five-star review or cover reveal or guest post or giveaway and I think, again, “I should buy that book, but… the movies call, and I want to make sure I have that extra five bucks for my buttery, salty, oily addiction.”

But I was thinking the other day, as I just blindly ordered my usual – small popcorn (hey, at least I order the small), small Coke Zero (see there) and a bag of Twizzlers (not too bad) – and then got ready to pay, “Dang, if I just got rid of one of these items each week, I could buy a LOT more indie YA books!”

So I did; I got rid of one of those items – popcorn. Okay, not that time because I’d already ordered it, but the next time. Okay, okay, I actually haven’t done it yet, but that’s only because I’ve been down with my annual pre-spring sinus infection so haven’t seen a movie yet.

But I know, I KNOW when I finally do feel well enough to go and see Ghost Rider 2 (don’t judge) that I’ll be strong enough, and smart enough, to say, “Bring on the soda and licorice, but hold the popcorn… I’ve got an indie book to buy when I get home.”

Okay, so I probably won’t say that last part because there will no doubt be a line and no one listens to me in real life anyway, but I’ll think it. And I’ve already started! Here are some awesome (reviews coming soon!) YA indie books I’ve purchased since I’ve started my movie popcorn embargo:

Destiny’s Fire by Trisha Wolfe

 

 Doc, the Vampire-Hunting Dog by J. A. Campbell


Think about it: at my movie theater, a small bag of popcorn costs five bucks. Most of the indie books I buy are far less than that. Some are 99 cent EBooks, some are $1.99, or $2.99, but even if they’re $5.99 or only out in print for ten or twelve bucks, what’s more important: doing another indie author a solid and buying their book, or clogging my arteries with another bag of movie popcorn?

Thoughts, comments, corrections, suggestions, grievances? The comment boxes are open, 24/7/365…

Yours in YA,

Rusty

When Did People Stop Writing Books?

This isn’t a blog post so much as a really long thought! It’s not even a rant or an opinion and I’m genuinely interested in an answer to the following question: “When did people stop writing books?” (You know, single title, stand-alone books.)

It just seems like every book I see nowadays is part of a series of books, and that they start that way from Book 1. I’ve seen several awesome blogger friends get book deals recently and they all seem to be for series, with books 1 and 2 already completed.

I’m between books right now – I mean, writing them – so I went into the bookstore the other day to stock up on YA to feed my brain and check some trends and just get my general YA on and it was just walls of series everywhere I looked. Yes, certainly, I could *find* single, stand alone titles but few were faced out and not that many were getting “heat,” if you know what I mean.

And I can’t prove it scientifically, even statistically, but there was just this wall of books and they were all part of the This series or That series and the covers all matched up and even if it wasn’t from a “famous” series like Cirque Le Freak or Morganville Vampires or Vampire Diaries or whatever, it was Book 3 or Book 7.

Don’t get me wrong; I LOVE a good series. It was an awesome experience watching Harry and Hermione and Ron grow and evolve throughout the Harry Potter series, and I’m currently hooked – I mean, HUH-OOOKED!!! – on the Hunger Games series right now and eager to see where that takes me.

And who am I to talk? I have sequels to two of my books in the works right now, so I guess that qualifies them as a “series,” but it makes me a little sad for the single-title, one-off books because it seems much harder to bring them to anybody’s attention if they’re not “Book 1” or “Book 2” of the So and So Series.

Still, I really enjoyed writing them and think, in their self-contained worlds, they’re really good. Then again, I’m enjoying the opportunity of seeing what’s in store for Maddy, Dane and Stamp as I wrap up the sequel to Zombies Don’t Cry.

And I can absolutely see the allure of extending their story, taking them different places, even “growing up” with them as they experience and learn new things and even change and evolve in this next book and, hopefully, beyond.

But I dunno. It just hit me all of a sudden as I stared at those bookstore shelves how many, many series there are and it made me wonder, “Where did all the books go?”

Again, know this: I LOVE SERIES! I LOVE SERIES AUTHORS! This is not a dig, a rant or a “ding” against series and their authors. I get it; really, I do. It’s just a comment on a trend that seems to be getting stronger, not weaker, and wondering what you all think about it well.

Comment boxes are open; I hope you see fit to fill them!!!

Yours in YA,

Rusty