What on Earth happened to Maytag?

Growing up, I sometimes would see those famous commercials on television, or ads in magazines, featuring a “Maytag repair man” who was sitting in his office, nearly dying from boredom as he had nothing to do. The name Maytag–in my mind—became synonymous with making a quality washing machine, a device so good that it didn’t need repairs. That goodness came at a price, however, one four times greater than the washing machines my parents were able to get. When I got married and began having children, the washing machine was used so frequently that, for us,  it was financially smarter to hold off on buying a Maytag and buy cheaper machines that could take a beating, even though they’d only last three-four years.

Last year–for my 15th anniversary–I got the washing machine of my dreams, a front-loader Maytag Energy Star washer. I organized and painted my laundry room in anticipation for it, waiting to purchase until last years models were being discounted at Sears before the new models were due to arrive. In spite of the discount, the amount was sizable for our little budget… the most expensive anniversary gift I’d ever received. The salesman informed me at purchase that the Maytag brand had in fact been bought by Whirlpool. I should have seen this information as a warning, but my knowledge on appliances at that time was rather limited. I did not buy the extended warranty (which was almost as much as the washer, itself) as we’d used up all my funds on the washer. Some of my friends said “you should have bought the warranty” but even now, I disagree. I should have bought another brand of washing machine.

For just about a year the washing machine worked beautifully. I babied it like an infant, wiping it down after each use, dusting the back vents, moving it to mop underneath and used it—one average—twice or three times per week. None of our four children were even allowed in the laundry room, lest they look at my new washer the wrong way and hurt its feelings. The water and energy savings the salesperson had touted were indeed true; the washer spun the clothes so well that they only needed fifteen minutes in the dryer instead of the usual forty-five. To his immense pleasure, my husband noted a marked decline in both the water and electric bills. Then… the troubles started.

First the gray rubber gasket around the front opening deteriorated. Upon opening the door after the load was completed a saw little gray pieces of rubber in among the clothes. Our washer was still under warranty so it was replaced free of charge by a local well-rated company that worked with Maytag; I noticed right away that the new gasket fit much better than the old one, which had undulated rather loosely around the opening. The repairman informed me that he replaced these gaskets on Maytag front-loaders quite often.

One month later, the error code flashing began. “E1F1” was all my washing machine would say to me, and no matter how closely I followed the Troubleshooting Guide, it flatly refused to run. Our warranty had expired by this time but we still needed a working washer, so I scheduled a repair appointment. I assuaged my anxiety by washing several small batches of clothes in my bathtub, showing my children “how the pioneers washed clothes” by squeezing, twisting and rinsing clothes out by hand. The next day the repairman came out again and after a few minutes of diagnostics told me that my main control board was out and would have to be replaced. Alarmed, I asked how it had come to be broken, seeing the machine was just over a year old. The man shrugged and told me he was replacing MCBs in Maytags on almost a weekly basis. Not satisfied with this answer I called out another well-rated repair company only to have the exact same answer given to me. The second repair man shook his head disgustedly at my treasured machine and told me that ever since Whirlpool took over Maytag, they’d been built with “cheap-ass parts.” He did tell me, however, that I had one of the cleanest machines he’d ever seen.

The parts and labor to replace the main control board turned out to be only $100 less than the cost of the machine, brand new. Frustrated, I suggested to my husband that we buy a cheap washing machine, one that I knew (from experience) that we could get at least three years’ use out of, and sell the error-coding Maytag in a yard sale. My husband actually doled out the money to repair it, knowing how much I had looked forward to having this particular washer, but also how much it saved him in energy costs every month. These days I stand in my laundry room–glaring at the washer ‘en cycle’–shaking my head and thinking “never will I buy Maytag brand again.”

Apparently, I am far from alone in this sentiment. Just googling “Maytag washer main control board” led me to several consumer rating sites with hundreds and thousands of complaints against Maytag for “poor customer services” and various problems related to cheap-ass parts. One poor woman had to get her main control board replaced four times, and despite her extended warranty had to pay quite a bit out of pocket to actually get her washer functioning again. I don’t know that the execs at Whirlpool are thinking by buying a premium quality brand name and then devaluing the product itself, and losing that stellar reputation. Once is all it takes and they’ve lost a customer for life, as well as all my near friends, my relatives and hopefully all twelve-thousand of my discerning contacts, professional writers, book reviewers, graphic artists, editors and devoted eBooks readers, most of whom probably have bought a washing machine, or will buy one—or several–in future. And I am but one irritated consumer, hijacking my own blog for an appliance rant, hoping to warn other consumers against throwing their money away.

My grade for this machine: F+

Don’t buy Maytag/ Whirlpool products. Investors, sell your stock before the parent company’s devaluing policies catch up to it completely. I know I’ll get replies saying “should have bought a warranty” or salespeople trying to appear as consumers, but I still disagree with the extended warranty ploy. A machine that pricey–and with the reputation of never needing a repairs–should not have ground to halt after one year of marginal use. It’s almost as if these machines are purposely made to fail in order to force consumer to spend even more, for less.

Maybe that’s the real reason the Maytag repairman looked so depressed in the ads; perhaps someone had leaked to him that Whirlpool was going to invest in the company heavily and then buy the brand name. Perhaps he could guess that they would then take consumers for all they were worth and run the Maytag name into the ground. Sad, indeed.

Ah, well. Perhaps by my 20th anniversary I’ll find a quality washing machine that will last ten years, like the old ‘real’ Maytag machines were supposed to do. Are there any readers that have such a brand? If so, please leave such information in the comments box for the rest of us.

http://www.customerservicescoreboard.com/Maytag

Kindle Store Includes India

For some years now I’ve written blogs and articles and book reviews on a handful of sites populated almost exclusively by folks living in India. The flurry of remarks to each piece, and the pieces of other writers, proved quite humbling to me, an American writer. Not only do most folks commenting on these sites wield the English language with fluent precision, but there lies an almost tangible hunger for good literature in every sentence they type.

Thus, when I received the announcement that writers of Kindle books can now sell in India, I was elated. I can even be paid in rupees if I want, instead of dollars, which might be fun if only a bit complicated to go to market with. I noted–upon logging in to the Reports section of my author’s dashboard–that Amazon lumped India in with the North American platform, instead of tying it in with the UK platform, or giving it its own. There are already separate platforms for German eBooks, and those in French, Spanish and Italian.

Now, I think it’s great that Amazon is including India in the sales report pages, but I think its fair to point out that the English-language platform reports are already vague enough with trying to guess if eBooks are being sold in Canada or the US, without adding in a billion new consumers to that particular report. Maybe its cheaper to congeal the reports verses giving authors details about where their books are being sold. Maybe they’re promoting a world without borders. If so, then why not lump in the UK as well? Then we could break out the burgers, tandoori chicken and leek pasties, cheerfully toasting “vagueness” with Guinness.

The conglomerate data-nit aside, however, I feel eager to begin promoting my Kindle books to a vast new audience. The device, itself, will be sold for around 6990 Rupees, or approximately $126 USD. The tablet market’s been a bit slow to catch on there in the past–mostly due to cost–so perhaps the cheaper, dedicated eReader will take root. India’s already the 5^th largest global retail market, which may translate over to eBook sales in the coming months. Back in March of this year, one study I read indicated that 26% of male consumers in India had purchased an eBook, 21% of female consumers. The study also indicated that the 25-34 age group in India bought more eBooks than both the younger and older counterparts, a fact which struck me as refreshing; not all writers are gifted at penning YA or catering to Tweens. A few educational publishers in India are even starting to offer their printed textbooks as eBooks. Suddenly, I’ve got a hankering to write my new novels faster… and for some Madras lentils, na’an bread and coconut chutney.

Good luck in India, o’ fellow writers of Kindle books.

The Stupidity of Spam

I don’t know about you but–here in Word Press Land–the writers of columns, blogs and journals get to approve (or disapprove) which posts make it to the eye of John Q. Public. Now, 99% of “real people” remarks get posted on Greene Ink but all those combined are a mere 10% of the daily assault on my comment queue.

I’ve been a blogger/columnist for some years now–mostly on the subjects of eBooks, writing and self-publishing–and as such I’ve witnessed the efforts of many, many spammers trying all kinds of creative ways to convince me to post their links in the “Comments” area below every single one of my posts, entities I refer to as “spamments.” I am not alone in this onslaught, for most of the folks on my considerable list of contacts have experienced the same thing, and shrug it off as being “part of the Internet.”

Most of the spammer’s proffered posts are fairly easy to spot, ranging from the unapologetic-ally obvious:

“OMG grate artikle! food alligator snorkel URL”

… to the hilariously bizarre:

“HELLO MY NAME IS TAKRINA UZBEKISTAN FROM UTAH AND I HAVE A MILLION DOLLARS HIDDEN IN A CRAB SHACK IN CAMAROON. DUE TO EXCHANGE RATE I NEED YOU TO TRAVEL THERE AND RETRIEVE IT FOR ME IN EXCHANGE. I WILL PAY YOU IN FREE CIALIS”

In the case of the above examples (and the myriad variations thereof) I have felt genuine amusement at some of the spammers’ attempts… but many of them are simply bad business. Case in point, trying to sneak fake comments—ones full of terrible spelling and gibberish—on sites run by writers, editors and book reviewers.

You’ve probably seen them yourselves… the type of posts so bad they promote face-to-palm chafing and that strange and descriptive phenomena entitled “headdesk” or “Unification of ones forehead with a computer desk as a means to vent frustration, often forceful.” (definition courtesy of UrbanDictionary.com)

More often than not the spammers try to ‘sneak’ in hidden urls and keywords, displaying a touchingly naïve belief that I will approve the comment without reading it, somehow unable to see that the blog was penned by someone that makes a living off the written word. I can appreciate the ironic aspect of these particular spamments, but I’ve got them beat: I review every single comment posted on my site. So do 100%  of the 412 serious-writer-colleagues that I’ve queried on this issue. Yes, doing so takes up time, but–like me–they are so nettled at spammers posting fake comments on issues they hold dear, they make time to spam the spamments, sometimes with glee.

Now, most advertising folks (the ones that know their business) are aware that it is fairly futile to sell things to people by insulting them. Spammers pretending to have legitimate things to say on issues important to bloggers–then composing inane posts comprising little more than bald key words–will only make said bloggers & writers block the url the spammer hoped to sell. Indeed, so piqued am I–upon viewing these poorly-worded fake posts–that I go out of my way to add the spammer, the url and their email to my column’s black hole, the spam queue, from which emails are directed right into the trash bin.

Certainly, there must be some folks that still fall for the spammers’ ploys, but those who have either get wise quick or are successfully warned by vigilant eduction groups or caring relatives/coworkers. Spam in general doesn’t effect me, from an advertising standpoint. I have yet to respond to a single piece of advertisement spam sent to my Inbox. Some of them I’ve swiftly reported to the proper authorities as fraudulent (well, they were) and the same goes for spamming posts on my articles. I do not feel inclined to give such posts a second glance, especially the ones that are so long–as if one paragraph of gobbledegook was not enough–that I have to all scroll down to the bottom of each page in order to add one more post to the spam queue. If the goal is to be noticed, they’ve failed; it’s fairly hard to get out a message from within a digital dust bin.

It occurred to me the other day that, unlike the rest of the Internet, spamming seems to have regressed. The good news: if the spam industry does not evolve forward, eventually it will become extinct. In order to remain viable spammers should become relevant, instead of merely pretending to be relevant.

Show us–o’ spammers–how your url can HELP our column/blog/site, verses merely being a hindrance to it. Use wit, correctly-spelled words and have your poorly-paid employees actually read the blog/column/review, taking the time to post real opinions. Only then will indie writers–who are fast taking over the Web—begin to take notice of what you are trying to sell.

A Reviewer’s Rant

I write to warn all who read this of a growing problem that has permeated deep within several groups I associate with, namely those referred to as book reviewers, a.k.a. “the damn critics!”

As a writer of fiction, myself, I am known in some reviewing circles as being “easier” on new/young writers than some of my peers, and thus have been sought out by hundreds of authors for a gander at their work and an opinion thereof. However–as of late–even I have had to draw a rather thick line in the sand regarding reading and reviewing certain genres of fiction. The various fads/crazes circling any popular novel induce a strange marketing phenomena that those among my acquaintance have dubbed “copycat” novels. Twilight mimics have lessened as of late, though a trickle of such titles remain… like a draining wound in the side of a comatose publishing industry. Supernatural thrillers penned in the oh-poor-me First Person Perspective—which seems to have lost all its art lately—are so common that they’ve attained that awful title of Glut, to the point where I cringe at any sentence beginning with “I.”

The zombie “apocalypse” craze is the latest fad, though–thankfully–it appears to be on the wane. Each month nine to twelve new zombie novels pop up on the revered List of Titles sent ’round to us hopeful reviewers, successfully washing the whole genre a bit paler with each new addition. One may write a great piece of undead/re-dead fiction but it may well get lost in the throng of poorly-disguised copycats. The chance for being “discovered” in such company is next to nil.

Now, it seems–to myself and many of my fellow reviewers–that quite a number of today’s writers are inspired by nothing else than what others write about, or by the latest movie that they’ve seen. The prose penned by such writers reflects a noticeable lack of real creativity, thus rendering them hard to read… or say anything good about. After several of these tepidly plagiaristic novels in a row, it becomes a delicate business to even select a title in a certain genre, regardless of writer. There are only so many ways one can say “I wish I could get those hours of my life back.”

Perhaps the saddest result of all this is that the once-bright fire of curiosity–that little voice that says “it might be a great piece a literature”–begins to die away in the mind of a reviewer, even to the point where some refuse to review fiction at all… only selecting a title when one is recommended by a fellow reviewer whose already taken the plunge, so to speak.

In writing this I am fully aware that it sounds a bit stuffy, and that some folks may absolutely love to tear through such novels as I’ve described, one after another, gleefully reading to the last page and scampering off to hunt for more. Feel free to continue doing so, but don’t ask to me to read them. I write fiction, but read it only on a referral basis now… or if someone pays me good money to. The latter has happened much more frequently lately. It appears that more and more reviewers are rejecting books, sick of reading repeating mirror reflections of whatever novel has preceded it, and authors are having to pay to ensure that their book actually gets selected.

How can you avoid becoming bogged down in the marshy part of Lake Literature? Write what you know… write about something you’ve actually experienced and researched… write about a vivid dream you’ve had… write about folks facing dark odds but emerging victorious, and as wiser people. Write about everyday things, as well as the spectacular and far-fetched. Anyone whose ever read Austen’s Pride & Prejudice–and bothered to do a bit of historical research on it—knows how extraordinarily normal the circumstances of that book were, for the author… and yet it remains one of the best novels ever written.

I want to read great literature, books that stand out. If it disappears into a dozen other similar titles, I won’t see it. It’s not that I’m not looking, its that I’ve looked for a long, long time, and I’ve learned that great literature doesn’t follow a fad, or a craze. It is written because the writer must write it and in this it stands alone. Until I find such work, I’ll stay by my interesting standbys of natural science, history, computer software, photography, cooking and knitting, waiting for today’s Austen, today’s Forester and today’s Dumas to emerge from the mewling hordes of fad-beings and stand in the sunshine… waiting to be read, instead of merely hoping to be seen.

Real Green: Compost, Food & Power

One can eschew green-minded tweets to friends on a daily basis–or buy a few fair trade groceries here and there–but how does a large portion of a community actually apply organic principles to their everyday life?

Why, throw a “Celebrate Compost Festival,” of course! What says festival more than showing pedestrians totes full of vermi-compost (worm farms) while wining and dining them on a array of delectable food and wines from local restaurant and wineries?

Put on by several citizens and the Green Restaurant Alliance Sacramento (GRAS) the Compost Festival drew an impressive number of locals and curious tourists. Folks listened to local spoken artists, a talented young duo sporting a banjo and guitar and admired the handiwork of citizens, students and small businesses, all of which showed themselves truly dedicated to making a difference in our fair city by diverting waste from landfills and returning growing food to the hands of the people that consume it.

My children and I stopped by one booth manned by smiling high school students; they proudly showed us the compost bins they keep in their classroom and informed us that each day they liberally toss in food scraps, shredded junk mail, water and greenery to feed the medley of live worms within.

“There’s one in every classroom in our school!” a sweet-faced young lady told us. She reached into the bins without gloves and stirred the black compost within. “Would your kids like to see the worms?” Indeed they did, for we’ve had our own bins in our backyard for three years.

“Our worms are bigger,” my 10-year old son whispered to me as we walked on to the next booth. I agreed. We visited the Slow Food Sacramento booth, the How-To-Make-Your-Own-Compost booth, the local food coop booth, the folks selling uber-svelte worm “farm” equipment and the GRAS table.

GRAS was what drew us to the festival in the first place, being a rather unique program started by perfectly ordinary people. These intrepid folks saw top-quality kitchen peelings being tossed out by the area’s restaurants and mused to themselves if these “scraps” could not be collected and used for some greater purpose, like compost. Keeping said material out of area landfills seemed like a great bonus and soon such silent ponderings took to voice and gathered in number, until eleven area restaurants, including chefs, their staffers, diners, local growers, wineries, distributors, vendors, and municipalities joined in as “partners.” GRAS diverts approx 1 ton of organic vegetable scrap per month to local farms and community gardens. The organization provides compost training and is lobbying for a city-wide municipal composting program.

The best part of attending this very green’ly applicable venture was learning about a brand new facility in the northern part of Sacramento which takes in compost-able material–and food “waste” from local industrial plants–and turns it into electricity, to the tune of about 150 Kilowats an hour. It was also highly refreshing to see so many folks taking an interest in backyard organic gardening, composting, vermi-composting and in tasting the fruit of such dedicated labors, all the while really, honestly helping to re-use and reduce waste at little to no cost to the hard-working taxpayers of California.

Hale & Hail (a garden journal entry)

~ April 11^th, 2012 ~

The unusually mild winter has–rather quickly–turned into a vigorously wet spring. The needs of a gardener–to turn soil, add compost and map out beds—however, are not hampered by such a thing as inclement weather. The 8 O’ Clock chime this morning found me exiting the door to the back garden in my paint-speckled, clay stained ‘work’ jeans, boots, a rain hat–and one of my husbands cast-off Pendletons–squinting up at the overcast sky with a determined glare.

Resolutely, I pulled on the slightly uncooperative gardening gloves. With unfaltering steps I strode towards the strawberry bed and stared into its sunken depths as the drizzling raindrops gained in weight and number. Strawberries–in this part of California–adore a well-drained, spongy bed of mixed matter and clay and reward the owners of such soil with delightful, naturally-delicious treats high in Vitamin C and fiber. However, such a soil as this manages to compact in an alarming fashion over the course of each growing season, thus requiring the gardener to carefully dig up each spidery plant, lay them aside (with rootball intact) and pitch in another foot or so of the previously-described material. Anyone who’s done this particular task knows that during a slight drizzle is the best time to coax these plants from the ground, the soil being neither too dry nor too wet.

After spreading out a small canvas tarp by the strawberry bed, I knelt on a large plastic bag of aged “steer” manure and proceeded to extract and lay out the plants one by one on the tarp. Soon the quasi-neat piles and rows became a mass of black, chunky things topped with green, serrated leaves and a brave white flower poking its petals through here and there.

“The strawberry bed seemed smaller this morning,” I thought, after an hour or so.

Indeed, only half of the plants were dug. The brick borders of the bed appeared to slip farther away even as I watched. It may have been the pitter-patter of large raindrops on my hat, or the soaked spot on my lower back–that wasn’t quite covered by the Pendelton—or the soreness in my muscles that make me suddenly start working faster, but I think it was the Inside that had come meandering into my thoughts. I imagined hot tea with honey–in my particular cup–accompanied by a warm almond cookie on a plate. These, I envisioned, would sit on the small table by my chair in front of the fireplace, near where I keep my knitting. Soft alpaca wool would feel so much nicer to my fingers, I mused, than this slippery, cold clay-infused earth.

All at once, the back door of the house slid open. Turning, I saw my five-year-old little girl looking back at me with an uncertain expression in her blue eyes.

“Why are you pulling up the strawberries, Mommy?” she inquired, looking more alarmed by the second. Nothing quite makes her summer day complete more than a search–under each and every leaf–for the edible gems of the strawberry patch. I told her that I was not, in fact, harming the strawberries, but helping them to grow more berries than ever by giving them “some more dirt.” Five stepped out cautiously with one foot, then retracted it.

“It’s raining!” she exclaimed. This statement was followed by a high peal of delighted laughter as she ran back through the house. “Mommy’s gardening out in the RAIN!”

I heard her voice echo through the halls and smiled. Soon, three puzzled faces joined hers at the back door.

“It’s easier to pull these plants when its sprinkling,” I said, forestalling the inevitable question of ‘why.’

“It’s more than sprinkling, Mom,” my fourteen-year-old pointed out. She made a face when I smiled at her over my shoulder.

“You’re a meteorologist now?” I asked, turning back to my work. “I thought you wanted to be a ballerina?” A snort was all the reply I received, but soon all the children stood next to my growing pile of plants, blinking the raindrops from their eyes.

“Aren’t you going to get sick being out in the rain, Mommy?” My eight-year-old asked me, with a tone of frank concern. For a moment I inwardly cringed at how citified my children are, and how quickly—in their minds–a bit of drizzle is connected with imminent pneumonia. How did the hale and hearty children of the pioneers react when the weather turned slightly damp? I kept these musing to myself.

Instead, I looked out at my children from under the brim of my hat and smiled.

“A little rain isn’t going to harm you if you dress properly,” I informed them. “Why don’t you get on your garden clothes, a hat and a jacket and come out here with me? I could really use a hand.” My children looked at each other and trudged back inside, closing the door after them. I worked on steadily and thought about the cup of tea again; it was joined by a full teapot and several more cookies.

Some minutes later, the back door slid open once again. Glancing over my shoulder I saw all four assembled nearby, clad in the proper garments, looking warily around the wet patio and muddy garden area.

“It’s cold,” Fourteen remarked. I smiled.

“No, it isn’t,” I replied. “Cold is when your fingertips freeze and turn black.” Fourteen’s eyes widened considerably. My ten-year old boy grinned. “This is just light rain,” I continued, digging up another plant. “Can you take this over to the tarp, and lay it carefully with the others?” Ten did so and Fourteen took the next one. Soon, a mini assembly-line had formed by age, starting with me (Thirty-Four) and Five at the end by the tarp of dis-assembled strawberry plants.

The hail surprised all of us. The precipitation simply changed-in a half-second–from chilly rain to hard little bits of hexagonal ice. The hail pummeled the ground and all working upon it. I was already wet, chilled and dirty, so I kept pulling the plants. The children however—seeing Mommy was not running for cover—began running around the patio with glee, yelling and trying to catch the hail in their muddy hands. Even Fourteen was coaxed out from under the rose trellis (where she’d slipped with stealth unrivaled) to join in the fun. The hail lasted only a few minutes before the sun popped out, blanketing the patio and strawberry plant pile with golden light.

“This is the weirdest day EVER!” Eight said, smiling from ear to ear. I glanced towards the horizon. Ominous gray clouds boiled in the distance and the breeze picked up, ushering more chill into the air despite the sudden sunlight.

“Let’s get these back in the ground quick, shall we?” I suggested, utilizing my most encouraging smile. “Then we can go in, wash, change… and have some tea and almond cookies.”

The word ‘cookies’ holds a great deal of sway among my children. Reviewing numerous cookbooks for the San Francisco Book Review and other publications has not only increased the variety of cookies baked in our small kitchen, but also the quality thereof. Thus, the promise of cookies prompted little hands to move faster. Bags of aged manure were torn open–and the smell ignored–while the black stuff was liberally (and messily) sprinkled about the now-empty strawberry bed.

While I worked this matter in with a pitchfork, the children dragged over three large totes of compost, which we’ve lovingly cultivated over the winter. Consisting of little more than kitchen peelings, coffee grounds, eggshells and shredded cellulose products, the rich, heady material invoked appreciative murmurs from Fourteen as they tipped the totes over into the strawberry bed.

“Wow, Mom… that’s really good soil.”

I grinned and nodded, thinking that she’d probably learned more about the benefits of composting in that one moment then during an entire lecture series on the subject. Soon the good dirt was spread around, almost spilling over the top of the raised bed’s borders.

The hail melted quickly, but the third act was quick to follow. Lighting pierced the dark clouds looming on the horizon. A clap of thunder sounded out, making Five jump.

“Lightning, Mommy!” she said, eyes wide. “We should go in! We gotta make cookies!”

Cookies, apparently, had reached the “mythical power” stage in her mind… able to ward off both the wayward poniards of Zeus and the audible whims of Odin.

“Yes, we should,” I replied. “Let’s get these plants in quick.”

We did get them in ‘quick’. Green leaves once more crowded the bed, looking considerably happier in the aerated, nutrient rich soil. I spent a few minutes power-washing off the piles of trampled mud around the bed before winding up the hose. Tired, and sopping wet, we worked off our muddy shoes by the door, trudged inside and went through a series of short showers before finally attaining the Clean & Dry category.

Stirring up the cookie dough in my kitchen, I noticed Fourteen standing by the back window. She looked out over the garden and the newly dug strawberry bed, the cotton hood of her sweatshirt up over her head. I walked over and stood next to her.

“I was going to ask if we should water,” she began, “But that’s seems to be taken care of.”

I smiled and put my arm around her shoulders.

The gray rain clouds had come at last. No light sprinkling of drizzle, this, but a serious downpour, pounding the roof above us like small drumsticks. The strawberry bed seemed specially happy to see the rain but they were joined in this feeling by the white clouds of Alyssum flowers under the pink tea roses. The star jasmine growing above us on the patio cover seemed to unfurl its leaves like elongated fingers towards the sky.

“I think the strawberries this year will be extra good,” I said. Fourteen smiled, a little.

“They better be,” she replied. “I like strawberries but I don’t like dirt.” I laughed.

“Do you like cookies?”

“Of course.”

“Then you can help me roll them out.”

“Ok.”

It’s funny how–despite out best efforts–the things we like most just aren’t attainable without effort. Fourteen seemed to realize this novel idea without further words and helped get the cookies into the oven. Finally, after the chill, work, mud, hail, rain, thunder, compost and clean-up I sat by the fire with my tea, cookies and knitting… joined by my little team of future gardeners as the thunder rolled overhead and the rain pelted on the windows.

Outside, the garden sat silent and content, absorbing every drop.

Letters that Bridge the Gap

I’ve recently embarked on a personal quest to re-discover the art of letter writing. It has been my privilege to review well-researched books of compiled letters written by great authors and minds of aulde times past, such as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Emerson, Wodehouse, Churchill, Louisa May Alcott and many others. While writing out a letter by hand seems to go hand-in-hand with the act, itself, I find that writing my letters on the laptop allows my fingers to keep up far better with my train of thought than scribbling hastily on a page with ink.

Letter-writing today is viewed as so quaintly outdated that few folks realize what power a well-written letter carries within its lines, namely the power to bestow upon another-some distance away–a complete picture of thought and feeling, and then to have that picture recognized, understood and appreciated by its recipient. A phone conversation is hampered by one’s inability to see the face whilst conversing, a text is hampered in more ways than I can count (though paramount is limited vocabulary) and even face-to-face conversation seem to have taken a decided downturn in today’s society, limited to work, movies, pop songs, politics, economic complaints and television… and are hampered to a point by one’s mood at the moment. Even if the speakers get along grandly, these conversations are repeatedly interrupted before they get really good, or the folks involved are distracted by an numbers of other topics crowding in upon their limited time.

A letter, however, jumps over all of these invisible hurdles with the grace of a gazelle. Without pause it pushes on to the finish line as no other form of communication can do, able to draw with it the scenery, the feelings, the impressions and then express them to the fullest extent. Some posses the gift of gab, but most do not converse cleverly… yet often these same folks can write an intelligent and charming letter. These full-bodied, well-thought-out communications impart more of the soul than speaking or texting do; they fill up the missing pieces in the mind of the reader about the character of the one writing; they take a blank canvass and paint it with well-matched shades and allow the recipient to see something outside their own sphere and to experience it vicariously.

Great letters keep that tenuous bond of friendship alive, seemingly without effort. The reader knows that the letter written cost the writer precious time, and thereby sits themselves down to read all of it. Sometimes, even if the content does not sit well with the reader they are driven to read further out of sheer morbid curiosity. Long-standing arguments betwixt loved ones are lessened and even at times undone by a thoughtfully apologetic letter expressing real human thoughts, heartfelt sorrow or gentle reprimands.

Even better, a letter allows one to express a complete thought, point, argument or apology, without one’s emotions getting in the way. Emotion may fuel the writing; it may color the prose but a letter can explain things fully, it can be edited, re-written and end charitably… allowing the sender release and the acceptor, peace. True, not all letters give joy, entertainment or closure but they most often help towards achieving those ends. At the very least, a letter recipient knows a bit more about the sender than they did before, and even the act of replying is a telling answer despite what the letter may contain.

I have seen faces light up at just getting a letter in the mail, or as a well-formatted PDF attached to an email. My own countenance has reacted similarly at receiving notes from relatives, friends and colleagues, flattered that I was seen worthy of the time it took to compose such endearing pieces. I knew that an equal effort on my part would be appreciated by said letter-writers, and lost no time in formulating prose to send back, feeling that invisible gap between They and I shorten considerably. And that—to me–seems to be the chief reason why so many great writers of literature devoted so much time to writing great letters. They simply wished to make time, space and distance vanish between themselves and those they held dear, not allowing something so silly as miss-communication to ‘drive a wedge’ or widen the proverbial abyss in a relationship.

A letter more resembles a living, breathing being than many of its counterparts in the vast realm of Communication. Even in this fast-paced, technology-hungry world we live in, among many circles being a “charming correspondent” yet holds value and sway, and so in ways no other writing outlet can boast.

A Day at the VA ER…

 

My father-in-law–a USMC Vietnam combat veteran—recently required a trip to the VA hospital at Mather Field for a battery of quasi-urgent tests. We picked him up at his rural home, transported him to Mather and waited in the ER lobby with him for a considerable length of time. We shared the waiting room with several other veterans of advanced years, all of whom appeared about 80% deaf. This wasn’t a surprising fact, given their former line of work; my father-in-law has been mostly deaf most for some years. This affliction, however, didn’t seem to stop intriguing stories from being shared by the regular to anyone who’d listen. My husband soon struck up a conversation with a hopeful patient seated nearby which helped to pass the time, albeit a bit loudly.

Strangely, the possibility that elderly veterans might have substantial hearing loss did not seem to occur to the staff and nurses of the hospital. Each time of the staffers breezed through the doors to call out a name it was like watching an Abbott & Costello routine, almost too coincidental in nature to be believable: one of the well-meaning RNs–in a thickly-accented English no less–would emerge, look around and call out someone’s name in a small voice quavering with uncertainty. Even my husband—whose hearing is fine—had to lean forward and concentrate in order to make out what was being said.

Repeating the name didn’t help, however, hilarity ensued when the veterans realized one of the staffers was talking; they’d look blankly at her, at each other and then the responses would begin:

“What’s that?!”

“They call Robinson?”

“Who are you talking to?”

“Speak up darlin!”

“You already took my blood!”

“Did she say cookies?”

And this was only the first round. Next, the RN would try to get better results by giving out just a first name, a strategy doomed to failure with the more common names like ‘John’ or ‘Chris’.

“Chris?”

“I’m Chris!”

“So am I!”

“Did she say Chris?”

“Is it me or him?”

“Where are the cookies?”

The fun continued for quite a few hours, with a recurring cast; some of the veterans had multiple tests, with substantial waiting periods between, so the low-question-loud-rebuttal drama repeated every few minutes. Once in awhile a male staffer would render much needed assistance to the tremulous-voiced announcers and bellowed out the name of the next in line. In these few cases no responses ensued and the person called was quick to be helped.

Midway through the afternoon the waiting room was treated to an impromptu lecture on the ER’s mysterious “Fast-Track” system. A very calm RN walked out to the middle of the lobby, turned down the TV’s volume (a fruitless act) and began by apologizing for the wait. She spent roughly ten minutes explaining that some of the patients—those not needing tests–could be seen over at a place called the Fast-Track area. The effect of this announcement on the veterans was interesting. The RN mumbled a bit, so all the audience heard was “fast” and “track.”

“This is the fast track?”

“Fast? I’ve been here five hours!”

“Jack? I’m Jack!”

“She said fast track!”

“Who are you talking to?”

“Speak up!”

Eventually my father-in-law was admitted and—at least for us–the show came to a close. If anyone has a hand-held PA or bullhorn laying around perhaps they could bring it by the VA Mather ER, though I must admit the show is pretty good the way it is. We might go again, armed with a picnic lunch, a translator and a video camera.

What Writers Write With

 

My aging laptop, a trusty and wonderful device–on which I’ve composed five novels, countless articles, poems and pieces—is nearing the end of its existence. I extended its life expectancy substantially by replacing various components as they wore out, namely the hard drive and battery pack, but still the Time Has Come to replace the device altogether.

Recently, while standing in line at a coffee-shop, I observed an individual place a roll-out rubberized keyboard on a small bistro table and then plug it into his smartphone. He put the android device on a small stand and began typing away like mad. This scene sparked a set of musings in my mind which have leaked out to much of my numerous contact lists this week and set me lurking about the web for related articles.

It seems many writers are in a bit of a quandary about which device to graduate to, should the need arise. I read a piece by Kimmo Linkama on the issue, voicing a similar question to mine: which of the ‘new’ devices are really work-able for writing? He admitted being hooked on his full QWERTY keyboard, asked his audience for “help” and got variety of rather vague replies. GottaBeMobile writer Will Shanklin wrote—way back in July 2011—that while tablet were OK for causal computing, for serious writers (and other content creators) they “simply would not do.”

Uncertainty continued to plague me. Yes, a tablet looks “fun”–and getting my email at a touch while writing certainly appeals–but is such a device practical for 6-8 hours of daily writing/editing? Do digital ‘pens’ really allow “natural” writing and digital storage without hampering the creative process? Is the laptop truly obsolete, or is it merely in a state of transition?

I wondered at just how many writers will simply purchase a better laptop when theirs is kaput, verses trekking into the wild and wooly outlands of New Technology. Admittedly, when the iPad first came out, I was goggled-eyed with the possibilities it presented but–as of late—I’ve been cycling through web ads for sleek/light laptops, being I am already familiar with the design’s practical use for composing large-volume prose.

The practical side of my inner consumer was not alone, nor unrivaled. Many fellow writers, freelance colleagues, and several dozen members of the eBook community, replied to my inquiries on the subject with very helpful—and at times adamant—advice, revealing in detail what device(s) they’ve personally used to compose their own prose:

Bestselling suspense/thriller author Joshua Graham uses a full-sized Win7 laptop, supplemented with his iPhone for syncing documents to his Go app. Graham’s co-host on the Dialogue blogtalkradio show, bestselling author Susan Wingate, uses a Dell laptop with a docking system, and swears by its portability–and also its useability–for serious writing.

The words “serious writing” were bandied around the reply emails rather frequently, often after the words “My tablet is fun but…” Author, journalist & blogger Daniel Audet replied as follows:

“The most productive for me is an Alienware high end laptop with at least 6 gigs of ram, super fast hard drive, cutting edge sound and video cards and wi-fi capable with a security chip for wi-fi, HD or high res. screen and 9 hour battery. Sometimes I use a usb mini mouse. I’m using a biz class HP custom with most of the stuff I just mentioned however my next laptop 17″ or 19″ will be it.”

Attorney & Writer/Editor Guitta Karubian wrote: “I’d go for a tablet if I knew one that didn’t have the problems of the iPad yet had all the goodies. Problems: No usb port on the older ones and expensive plus costs of adapter (for usb port), etc. I’m drawn to the iPad, in part because I switched to Mac Apple laptops 5 computers ago after having owned and worked with 12 or more PCs. (I presently have a small PC which I try not to use.) I would – regardless of what else I add to my arsenal – stay with a laptop as my primary. I don’t think anything compares as a storage unit + portability + ease of use including larger screen and keyboard. It’s unquestionably the most dependable and versatile in these regards.”

Author Caron Kamps Widden offered a great insight into the device life of international/traveling writers, and like Joshua Graham uses her laptop in tandem with her iPhone:

“As an expat author living in Belgium, I use an HP Elite Book Laptop for writing, I also have the much smaller, HP mini, which is fine for email and simple tasks, but the screen is smallish, and keyboard tight, so it can be annoying to try to do anything advanced or prolonged. It does slip into a tote or larger handbag with ease. I use my IPhone for just about everything else when not near my laptop — email, calls, texts, Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads, my blog (but AT&T charges me an arm and both legs for roaming in Europe, despite paying extra monthly for added roaming and texting). I just bought the Kindle Fire — works great and the clarity is unreal for watching movies and favorite TV episodes. Great for accessing email and all of above (other than texting and calls). Does not work with ease when trying to connect to WiFi abroad. Best to download everything one needs, books, magazines, movies, TV shows to the device and not let it float in the ‘Cloud’ when traveling abroad.”

California author Caroline Gerardo’s response was short & highly practical: “Laptop hands down wins. Tablet and other smaller devices slow typing process. My eyesight is bad from years of working on computer and sun exposure. Small print means big typos for this girl.”

Indie Writer Jo Anne Benware: “My last three laptops were Dells and I have a Toshiba Netbook that I carry with me to my writer meetings and to the coffee shop when I need to get out of the house and write. I also use memory sticks so I can go between the two.”

A couple of writers surprised me by recommending using both a tablet and a laptop. Writer Pauline Jones uses her iPad (with a wireless keyboard) and supplements it with a MacAir:

“I’ve managed to get a (surprising) amount of mileage out of my iPad, but did add a Mac Book Air to my entourage. (grin) What the Air can’t always do: download email. Even with free wifi, can’t always connect when on the road, but I love working on it. And its so light and easy to tote around. I did a lot of work on my iPad when on the road last January and could connect even without wifi because it is 3G. The problem I had was porting my files back to my Mac and then switching to doc format. Sometimes the files got a bit hinky going from Pages to doc format. Which would be why I got the Air. I can do simple email on my smart phone, but anything too detailed is just not something I want to do. Of course, the smart phone is great for social networking. I can take a picture and upload it to FB or twitter. I have an iPad 1, so can’t take pictures with it. But my iPad has worked hard for me in the two years I’ve owned it. But for really intense writing, the Air works great. I use Drop box to move files between them and my desktop.”

Only one responder had gone the way of a combo device–a thing both laptop and tablet–freelance writer Robert J. Medak.

“My convertible is a Dell,” he wrote. “It is smaller and handier than a Laptop. Since I work from home, I use my Desktop, and my Tablet the most. My tablet is used primarily for reading eBooks for review. The convertible is great for the times I am out and have access to Wi-Fi or just want to sit down and work with Word.”

Some writers, such as author and Speaker’s Assistant Yvonne Wu, responded that they use only the iPad/Fire/other tablet for writing, but–like other tablet writers–added that they accomplish all “serious writing” using a peripheral keyboard, whether plug-in, wireless or built into the tablet’s case. This add-on seems to be a common theme, even outside my writing contacts. After cruising the more popular writers forums, half of the posting Prosers appeared to be sticking with their laptops; the other half recommended their tablets, but always with that external keyboard caveat.

Despite the tablet’s soaring rise in the device realm, perhaps a Writer General’s warning should be pasted on the outside of tablet cartons:

“Studies show that writers may need to use a peripheral keyboard with this device to actually write.”

Of Apps & Authors

 

Last week, I found myself wondering what my sizable network of fellow writers had digitally accomplished this year, especially if any had actually taken the ‘app’ bait (whether iPad/iPhone or Android) or, if had they gone the way of the “enhanced” eBook… specifically if they’ve utilized HTML5 and EPUB3. The responses to my queries were overwhelming in number and–as always—quite varied, but most indicated that they are either in the process, or at least have plans for one (or both) in the near future. The replies also indicated that most authors do not recognize any ‘fadish’ properties existing in or around the ever-evolving genre of the eBook.

Author Frank Fiore: “My publisher Trapdoor Books through their technology arm called Trapdoor Technologies converted my book – CYBERKILL – into their enhanced ebook technology – an app that runs on the Android and Apple iOS platforms. In my opinion, I thinks apps are the way to go since that’s where many of the platforms for publishing are headed. Even Amazon took a bit of the concept by jumping in with the Kindle Fire instead of just staying with the kindle. With an app, you can upgrade your book with new enhanced features – even additional content that you might have left out before – anytime you want. Also, since CYBERKILL is an app, we give the enhanced ebook away for free – it’s advertising supported like all free apps. I make money whether the book is purchased or not cause I get a share of the ad revenue.”

Author Caroline Gerado‘s response managed to cover both reading and writing aspects of my query:

“I am working with a development team integrating video/ photo/reading/ and reader ability to direct the narrative with a live website. The team has a myself, a comedian, two musicians, some indie filmmakers, teen game developers, engineers in Mountain View & India. “Playing” with new formats. I learned as much HTML5 as is written this year (I do not have a computer degree but a nimble with software building from old career) Many new formats coming. Each platform desires to be unique to keep their brand from being eaten and pirated. Many exciting things ahead. Only wish I had longer days and started younger. There will be inexpensive choices in 14 months. What is on the market only links and flows back slowly to the book. I want a book that a teen can chat with me or my team, can read then plug into a portal in their car to listen to the next chapter, lazily watch on TV some video clips, chat with others re: should the protagonist go left or right, read skype reviews, integrate with the kiosk at Barnes and Noble’s center as live reading, and smell good… (well not smell but more ) NO ONE has a swanky version yet, most are clunky and slow. Soon.”

The majority of writers, regardless of what industry they’ve worked in, age or education level, showed a ready familiarity with the idea of turning eBooks into apps as well as a willingness to “give it a go” in the near future; almost none had heard of –or had plans to try out–“enhanced” eBooks.

“Ebooks2go is in the process of making my new book, “Write the Right Word” into an App,” wrote author Sondra Smith. “And do not know][yet] if I will be happy with it or not. They are to have it finished soon. Being I have so many tabs, which can cause major problems with the ebook upload, I would say it is quite a job to get it done properly. I knew I could not do it myself… so decided to have the pro’s do it for me. I don’t even know what the html5 and epubs3 Enhanced eBooks are all about, but will let you know how the app for the i-devices does turn out once it is done.”

A few authors’ replies indicated that several menacing issues still inhibit real, perpetual growth in the eBook industry. Indeed some of these issues seemed to be so fear-inducing that some writers lumped them all together:

“At this time I am considering neither for our books,” wrote author/publisher Val Edward Simone. “I’m not convinced of the technology for one and I’m not convinced of the security of the products yet. There are too many people out there with far too much time on their hands. I’m very concerned about piracy issues. When I’m sure the technology is safe to use, I might consider it. I don’t immediately jump onto something new just because it is new. I like to see a track record before considering integrating it into my life and business. I just now finally got a Kindle.”

Glenda Bixler–a professional book reviewer and computer systems analyst–wrote the longest reply, but all of it seemed to apply, illustrating at least two facets of the eBook consumer:

“For larger systems I quickly learned that some form of standardization would need to be set before consumers really would have the ability to make wise choices. I don’t know whether that is possible given the speed of new options coming out. Now, for my personal opinion…from a reviewer’s point of view, this has already become extremely difficult as I am being sent different formatted files, that are merely be touted as eBooks. I just got one with a file ending I’ve never seen before and have no idea whether I’ll be able to figure out how to read it! I already use both computer and Kindle to read the various files I’m being sent. Now I’m getting multiple file copies of the same book (for instance, one mobi file and one epub…the latter I couldn’t get opened, the mobi I loaded on Kindle…but no matter what…it was both time consuming as well as irritating to have multiple copies on my computer, having to keep both until, at least, my review was done, but then having to delete the extra files from the various hardware.

Personally, I find that–for doing reviews–any electronic copy is more difficult and time-consuming to use. With a hard copy you can highlight, mark or just turn a page down that you want to later refer to for the review. With an electronic device, you must first learn to use the hardware to effectively do this or you must use a search activity, trying to find the particular location of that favorite paragraph that you wanted to quote, etc. Or you must jot down info on a separate computer file or handwritten notes (NOT moving forward in my opinion!) And you guessed it, not only haven’t I had the time to learn that early version of Kindle, if I am to keep up with the reading stack, there is no way that I could afford the time to move on to some other option, even if it is the most wonderful thing ever! LOL –

What I fear for authors is that, because of the “glitz” these fantastic options will be more and more selected, only to find that we book bloggers will not have the capability to read and review their novels…unless, of course, we can get them in hard copy…Yikes!

Some of the writers–as well as some of the publishers–however are still in the Valley of Decision about branching out into either apps or enhanced eBooks… and they show no sign of leaving it any time soon, instead opting for the seemingly secure position of wait-and-see.

“For me the crucial thing is the market,” wrote Katy Loffman of Dandelion Digital. “There’s no point in producing a product that can’t be viewed on any devices or sold in any existing outlets. The market for apps is thriving in apple and android, so publishers are confident publishing for it. However, until there is an obvious place to sell ePub3s and HTML5s, with a clientele happy to pay real money, publishers will find it hard to justify the huge expense of publishing in that format. There may also be a problem of skills too because publishers have Not mastered multimedia authoring or production yet. I think it will be a while before the HTML5 or ePub3 Market is mature enough for publishers to abandon apps in favor of them.”

It was heartening to see so many writers willing to expand their eBook platform beyond the ‘safe’ havens of PDF and Kindle, showing that they were at least paying attention to the market for the last two years. For the younger generations (almost beings born with smartphones in hand) in order to fit in with the trendy devices being purchased, eBooks apparently must transcend static text on digital paper in future. However, until a one-size-fits-all format can be decided on and implemented the industry is kind of hovering around the door, waiting to be invited in to the Hall of Progress. Now that ebook sales/ebook app use has doubled for some, tripled for others and are up on many a company cavorting across the sprawling fields of the Web, the creation of a single format may not be as far-fetched an idea as once thought. The money is certainly there to make it happen.