Shopping for hogs next…..

There is a great deal of misunderstanding about the publishing industry and this statement can be made by me even after having just published.  I don’t get it.

Well, Sal may get it, but I don’t.  It’s a mystery to me, it really is.  Financially, it makes no sense. None.  The printer takes the first ten dollars and the shipper (Canada Post) takes the next twelve.  The tax man takes 12% on top of that.  You are at almost $25.00 and counting. Put your book in a bookstore and they add 40% or almost another $10.00.  The book – with nothing yet shared with the author or the editor is now $35.00.  That is the way it is unless you go the AMAZON route and then printing and shipping are all included at $10.00.  A 12.99 cent book (ours) yields $3.00 a copy.

I can’t park my car for an hour in downtown Vancouver for $3.00.

So, you don’t write for the money.

You don’t write for the fame, either.  There may be some, someday, if you are really, really good but, if you are mediocre, fame proves more than elusive, it exists only in absentia.   And how could it be otherwise?  If you advertise, you lose your $3.00.  If you don’t, you don’t get your pathetic dollop of fame.  Hard choice.  The only other way is to self-promote by walking around and talking about yourself all day long.  But that is such a huge chore and fraught with logistics and, of course, costs, not to mention embarrassment, alienation and being shunned.  Doing book and pony shows at local libraries is a relatively easy way to make $30.00 if you are willing to spend $40.00 to do so.

So, fame and money are not valid reasons for doing this.  That just leaves invalid reasons and, being me, I have a few.  I wanted to share my rants with the world, vent my spleen, crack some whacked out jokes and outrage the targets of my literary barbs.  But Sal took all those out. Said something about being nice or saying nothing at all.  Another concept I have yet to grasp. So the book is ‘nicer’ than the author by a large margin.  And I am not so sure any of my benign, nice or even eccentric views on things actually made the cut.

Ravens, yes. Politics, not so much.

It does help to address the basic requirements of competency, however, and so that has to be the reason I offer up for this exercise.  The one I cling to.  The one I offer up as collateral for the loan I will need soon.

Competent Man: “A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, con a ship, design(and build) a building, write a sonnet (book), balance accounts (easy when you aspire to zero), build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly.

Specialization is for insects.”— Robert Heinlein, Time Enough for Love

 

7 thoughts on “Shopping for hogs next…..

  1. Desiderata is such wisdom that I will never attain it but Competent Man requirements are do-able. Of course, the hog goes last. I still have to program a computer. And my abilities to cooperate are waning. I gotta pick up the pace….time is running out.

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  2. In the land of the blind the one eyed man is king. A competent person assumes it ain’t rocket science and mostly that is true. I once was given an estimate of $50. an hour to mud drywall. Sure some skill is involved but $ 50 worth? Prices like that encourage one to give it a go, take a shot. Would I do my own cataract surgery no…!

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    • Brain and heart surgery, too. But I can take out your appendix so some things aren’t all that tough (mind you, you have to be willing to lie down, be very still and NOT yell). I am not yet a competent person yet but, with books from the library, Sal and my friends helping (or at least supervising) I can make a passing attempt at most things. That hog slaughtering thing (or, in my case, deer hunting) is a tough one, tho. I may not make the grade. I am pretty sure I could do chickens…. I think…..maybe.

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      • Deteriorata.
        Go placidly amid the noise and waste,
        And remember what comfort there may be in owning a piece thereof.
        Avoid quiet and passive persons, unless you are in need of sleep.
        Rotate your tires.
        Speak glowingly of those greater than yourself,
        And heed well their advice, even though they be turkeys.
        Know what to kiss, and when.
        Consider that two wrongs never make a right, but that three do.
        Wherever possible, put people on hold.
        Be comforted that in the face of all aridity and disillusionment,
        and despite the changing fortunes of time,
        There is always a big future in computer maintenance.

        Remember The Pueblo.
        Strive at all times to bend, fold, spindle, and mutilate.
        Know yourself. If you need help, call the FBI.
        Exercise caution in your daily affairs,
        Especially with those persons closest to you –
        That lemon on your left, for instance.
        Be assured that a walk through the ocean of most souls
        Would scarcely get your feet wet.
        Fall not in love therefore. It will stick to your face.
        Gracefully surrender the things of youth: birds, clean air, tuna, Taiwan.
        And let not the sands of time get in your lunch.
        Hire people with hooks.
        For a good time, call 606-4311. Ask for Ken.
        Take heart in the bedeepening gloom
        That your dog is finally getting enough cheese.
        And reflect that whatever fortune may be your lot,
        It could only be worse in Milwaukee.

        You are a fluke of the universe.
        You have no right to be here.
        And whether you can hear it or not,
        The universe is laughing behind your back.

        Therefore, make peace with your god,
        Whatever you perceive him to be – hairy thunderer, or cosmic muffin.
        With all its hopes, dreams, promises, and urban renewal,
        The world continues to deteriorate.
        Give up!

        Remember The Pueblo.
        Strive at all times to bend, fold, spindle, and mutilate.
        Know yourself. If you need help, call the FBI.
        Exercise caution in your daily affairs,
        Especially with those persons closest to you –
        That lemon on your left, for instance.
        Be assured that a walk through the ocean of most souls
        Would scarcely get your feet wet.
        Fall not in love therefore. It will stick to your face.
        Gracefully surrender the things of youth: birds, clean air, tuna, Taiwan.
        And let not the sands of time get in your lunch.
        Hire people with hooks.
        For a good time, call 606-4311. Ask for Ken.
        Take heart in the bedeepening gloom
        That your dog is finally getting enough cheese.
        And reflect that whatever fortune may be your lot,
        It could only be worse in Milwaukee.

        You are a fluke of the universe.
        You have no right to be here.
        And whether you can hear it or not,
        The universe is laughing behind your back.

        Therefore, make peace with your god,
        Whatever you perceive him to be – hairy thunderer, or cosmic muffin.
        With all its hopes, dreams, promises, and urban renewal,
        The world continues to deteriorate.
        Give up!

        National Lampoon Radio Hour

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      • ROTFLMAO!! Great! The best part…? Repeating from ‘Remember The Pueblo’…sort of a salute to dementia….

        I aspire to Desiderata. I relate to Deteriordata.

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