Quote of the day: Cormac McCarthy

“I’m not interested in writing short stories. Anything that doesn’t take years of your life and drive you to suicide hardly seems worth doing.”

From a great interview with McCarthy in today’s Wall Street Journal.

First, self publishing. Then, self prize-giving.

Upset that your vanity-press-published book didn’t win the National Book Award? Fear not. Enter it in the National Best Books Awards. Authors published by vanity presses can now “win” vanity book awards.

Every winner and finalist — i.e., everyone who enters — can purchase gold medal-style stickers announcing the fact, which can then be slapped on the cover of the book, making it look deceptively similar to books that have won legitimate prizes like the Newbery Medal.

Like my son says with weary sarcasm, “Yay, everyone’s a winner.” Go on, pat yourself on the back.

Me, I’m currently making myself an Olympian Goldish Medal out of foil-covered chocolate coins.

Word of the year

The New Oxford American Dictionary has chosen its Word of the Year: Unfriend.

unfriend – verb – To remove someone as a ‘friend’ on a social networking site such as Facebook.

“’It has both currency and potential longevity,’ notes Christine Lindberg, Senior Lexicographer for Oxford’s US dictionary program.”

Most “un-” prefixed words are adjectives (unacceptable, unpleasant), and there are certainly some familiar “un-” verbs (uncap, unpack), but “unfriend” is different from the norm. It assumes a verb sense of “friend” that is really not used (at least not since maybe the 17th century!). Unfriend has real lex-appeal.”

Other words in the running included sexting, zombie bank, and tramp stamp (“a tattoo on the lower back, usually on a woman.”)

(Via GalleyCat.)

Editing continues

Editpalooza continues this week. My head is buried in the rewrite of my new novel, so it’s unlikely I’ll post long rants or elaborate links. I am concentrating on revision with laser-like focus. Yes, I’m concentrating, not distracted. Concentrating is what caused me to leave the stove on all day and let the house run out of milk. And vegetables. And dog food. Granted, at one point the Husband looked at me with concern and said, “Are you getting ditsy?” No! I’m having a fit of artistry.

In other news, my son Nate is recovering well from his surgery. He’s up and about and feeling well enough to horse around with his brother. This was comforting to me, right up to the point where Mark said, “Yeah, we were pretend-fighting and I sort of broke my front tooth.”

Pimp my novel: The Memory Collector British cover

Dana Jean writes: “I think you need to pimp The Memory Collector again so I can make comments about it.”

Okey-dokie. Look! It’s the cover for the UK paperback edition of The Memory Collector, which will hit British bookshelves after the start of the year.

Comment away.

However, I should note that, when asking me to pimp the novel, Dana Jean also asked, “Am I involved in monkey collisions?” This may be because she won the contest to be a character in the novel I’m currently writing, which features Jo Beckett’s tiny nemesis, Mr. Peebles. Or it may be an existential cri de coeur. The comments may tell.

Need resolution?

Ambiguous film endings resolved.

Thief confused about the difference between Santa’s elves, Robin Hood

Mall employee stole “To give Christmas presents.”

A 24-year-old employee of the Sears at Kitsap Mall was arrested Monday after admitting to stealing store merchandise, according to Kitsap County Sheriff’s Office reports.

The Belfair woman told deputies she had stolen clothes and video games, giving some to friends and mailing some to her family. She said she needed Christmas presents “as she doesn’t have the money to buy anything,” deputies wrote.

“The woman had also attempted to buy a $500 gift card using a credit card application a customer had filled out, deputies said.”

With stolen property, “It’s better to give than receive” doesn’t apply.

Today in popular science

The Onion is on the case: Super Monkey Collider Loses Funding.

See, I’m not ignoring the blog — I’m just going nuts editing the new book. And because it’s a Jo Beckett novel, it features run ins with Mr. Peebles the Capuchin. Yes, monkey collisions. Yes, I’m over the edge.

If you could go back in history…

Here’s a question posed by my daughter, Kate: What historical moment or event do you wish you could have witnessed personally?

But then, being my tricksy kid, she follows up: After answering, ask your high-school senior self the same question. Are the moments the same?

I told her that I grew up in the Cold War era — so, considering that its anniversary was 20 years ago yesterday, I’d say: the fall of the Berlin Wall. What a triumph of hope and determination. It would have been a thrill to witness people taking sledgehammers to the concrete.

In high school I was fascinated by both WWII and nuclear physics. Also by apocalyptic science fiction. And we Cold War Kids grew up under the shadow of The Bomb. So I might have said: the Trinity atomic bomb test at Alamogordo, New Mexico.

Seems I’m still most interested in 20th century history.

Weird Crime Roundup

I’m diving deep into the rewrite of my new novel, so blogging is liable to be short and sweet. To keep everybody entertained, here are today’s weird crime stories from around the world:

Man provides photo for his own wanted poster.

LONDON (Reuters) – A British man on the run from police sent a picture of himself to his local paper because he disliked the mugshot they had printed of him as part of a public appeal to track him down.

Police sicc attack dog on wrong man.

EUGENE, Ore. – A Eugene man fighting a home intruder to defend his mother and young children was bitten by a police dog after officers mistook him for the prowler they had been chasing through the neighborhood.

And, in today’s “Ripped From A Coen Brothers’ Movie” headline: Minnesota boss assaults construction worker with backhoe.

Please don’t, because I won’t… PS

After spewing all my annoyances in the previous post, I’ll now return to being a laid back Little Mary Sunshine. Don’t worry, nobody who comments here is the target of my ire. And I know full well that doctors, computer programmers, musicians, plumbers, lawyers, and carpenters likewise have to deal with dorks who expect them to provide their services free of charge. Thanks for putting up with Meggie’s little rant.

As you were.

Please don’t. Because I won’t.

Dear aspiring authors and random people I run into at Starbucks:

Please don’t:

Decide over the weekend that it’s finally time to look for a job — and that publishing sounds like a glamorous industry, so will I please call my publisher and get you a position as an editor? Because you know they’ll jump at the chance to hire you — you majored in English Lit.

Email me, attaching a 2.5 meg document, with the message: “This is my novel. I want to send it to Hollywood. How do you like it?”

Stick a 750-page manuscript in my mailbox, with a Post-it note that reads: “My cousin wrote this thriller but can’t get it published. I thought you’d be the best person to tell him how to fix it.”

Ask me to comment on the query letter you’ve written for your novel. Then, when I suggest strategies to strengthen it, grab it back and berate me for hurting your feelings, because every word and sentiment in the query is personal and precious to you.

Ask me to phone up Stephen King to see if he’ll donate money to your pet cause.

Ask me to forward bestial horror-porn jpegs to Stephen King.

Ask me to blurb your unpublished misery memoir. (“Could you please give me a few quotes on the scenes below? I plan to send the memoir to agents eventually.”) That’s right — ask me to provide review quotes for your half-finished project. Note: A single paragraph of description about your childhood home does not constitute a scene. Neither do two sentences that describe the trauma you suffered when American Airlines wouldn’t upgrade you to first class, even though you were having a really tough morning emotionally. (And I hate to tell you, I truly do, but “My divorce was epic” is an insufficiently compelling reason to believe publishers will rush 1 million copies into print.)

Send out a mass email saying, “Dear Betty Sue, Dahlia, Mimsy, and other special friends: I’m revising my C.V. Prefer job in publishing. Could you please write up a few sentences recommending me? I’ll add them as quotes on the resume. By Friday, please.” Note: You sent the email to forty-six “friends,” and forty-three don’t actually feel so special.

On your C.V., under “Publications,” list your novel-in-progress. Listing the “Jots on Tots” column you write for the pre-school newsletter, which alerts fellow parents when the snack schedule changes, is iffy enough. An unfinished project, which exists only as musings in a spiral-bound notebook, has not been published.

Please, just don’t.

And if you need to know why, that’s another post. But for now: rant finished.

Reading and Writing Podcast interview

Hear me speak! Yes, I can string two sentences together extemporaneously! You can listen to Jeff Rutherford’s interview with me, recorded at ThrillerFest in New York — talking about Stephen King, The Memory Collector, women who write thrillers, and other scintillating topics.

Reading and Writing podcast interview.

Miss Congeniality she ain’t

Miss England gives up crown over brawl.

LONDON (Reuters) – Beauty pageant winner Miss England gave up her title on Friday after reports she had been involved in a nightclub brawl with another beauty queen.

Rachel Christie, niece of former British Olympic gold medal sprinter Linford Christie, was arrested earlier this week after allegedly getting into a fight with Miss Manchester, Sara Jones, at a club in the northern English city.

No word whether they tried to strangle each other with their sashes, or slash anybody with their crowns.