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And now I have to reroof with a fresh wound. In my palm. Grrr.
Bad Puppy. Don't let that guilty look fool you. He was playing Alpha Meanie this morning. No treats for him. I'm going to have to give him to Nora for boiling.
Just a quickie before I run out to the new job to make sure the dumpster guy doesn't ruin the homeowner's lawn....
THE BEST performer from last night's American Idol was...
PAULA ABDUL
who was just awesome in her sloshed ability to critique a second song that hadn't been sung. Yeeha.
Will answer posts from yesterday's later. And hey, my Outlook Express blew up and I lost emails from the whole of April. If you sent me anything and I haven't replied, please re-email. OTOH, I can always ask Paula to find those lost emails in cyberspace for me.
I'm loving your power struggle stories from yesterday's contest. Spread the news, keep the entries coming in, or if you haven't been able to think of one yet, you have till the end of this week (SUNDAY) to do so.
And now. I want reactions. Your honest opinion. There are no words to describe the following link:
Jude Deveraux K & B
Safe for work. Not safe for sanity. Cackle away and share your pain.
*****
Good news. I won a roofing bid! That means, food for the Mutant Poms and the Low Home. It also means I'll be busy for the coming week. Reroofing is a horribly tiring and dirty job at my age.
Sylvia Day gave me two copies of each, and I'm keeping a set for myself. I love the covers, don't you? Want a shot at owning these two books?
Well then (rubbing hands), all you have to do is give us a story about a power struggle with your loved one--you know, that quarrel that you always fondly remember. Who won? ;-)
Oh, by the way, for those who emailed me expressing horror that I was pretending to be Marjorie Liu and telling everyone she's forty...ummm...it was a JOKE, folks. Honestly, look at the above photo again. Do you really think she's forty? Sigh. Marjorie knows I was just funning.
Anyway, that's all the RT stuff, folks. Hope you got a better picture of the convention and all its activities. It's going to be in Orlando, FL. next year! Come, if you can, because I'm going to be there again, wearing my Marjorie Liu badge.
I wanted to do the last recap but am braindead. The Muse paid a visit today and gifted me with twenty pages! I am in awe at myself and very happily tired out. So, please excuse the inability to write a recount of the Book Fair at the Romantic Times Convention last week. I'll leave you with a nice picture, though.
See? Don't need to be all nekkid torsos to look niiiice, right?
Okay, tomorrow, pics from the signing and the Mr. Romance Contest. But wouldn't you rather have me hooting about writing another 20 pages? No? Heh.
Oh, before I go, here's something to grin about:
Ranger Buddy and Power Point in class. Hahahahahaha. He didn't know how to work it, but his speech went something like this:
"Nobody in both political parties seem to want to deal with the important issue of illegal immigration. The media are ignoring it. The debates don't focus on it. So I guess it's all up to me and my puny little power point to show you real numbers."
You have to be there to watch the ten-minute mini-lecture assignment. The man was from the notorious173rd "The Herd" Airborne Rangers. He could crawl into a hole and hunt the enemy. He could jump from the side of a roof onto a nearby branch without a second thought. He wants to run with the bulls this summer.
But he sweated like a little yelpy dog in the summer heat preparing for a silly little public speech. And his power point demo? A disaster. Ah, that was sweet.
The PA system was so loud, I think my eardrums burst in the middle of trying to eat dessert. When I looked up at the screen and saw a transvestite on stage humping the Frankenstein, I picked up a huge raw spear of broccoli and tried to commit suicide by stabbing my forehead with a sexy vegetable. Sitting not too far from me, a male writer was sawing his wrist with a butter knife.I was then carried out of there by my table (yes, my table was running away) into the foyer where half the crowd had already escaped, nursing their eardrums with alcohol. I joined in.
The night's Tail ended here.
I awoke on Day Two with the taste of plasterboard in my mouth. It's something I'm familiar with AT A JOBSITE, not in a hotel, gah. I listened to my roomies move around the room before forcing myself to get up. I don't do mornings well.
Gargling helped get rid of that awful taste. Then I looked at the program to see what's happening downstairs.
That chart in the middle of the program? The. Most. Awful. Mess. Evah.
For one thing, the days didn't go consecutively! I had a tough time figuring what went where during which hour, and the schedule for Saturday was sort of merged with Friday's, so I was quite confused, and it wasn't even 10am yet. So I did what an author would do.
I went down to the bar.
Ah. Nothing like an early morning pick-me-up to figure out where to go next. I went to Club RT and hung out there a bit to meet with friends and fans. It was a fun thing for me because I registered late and many people didn't know that I was coming, so I was like a surprise to those milling around.
"But you're not in the program!"
"I didn't know you were here!"
"No, you aren't Gennita Low!"
Heehee. I love making surprise entrances.
If you read my earlier posts, lunch featured a staged hanging. It was actually part of a reading and skit of the first chapter of Helen Rosburg's book, Blaze of Lightning, Roar of Thunder. It was like dinner theatre, only that it was lunch. And it was also the beginning of experiencing the PA system of Death.
I had to leave early because of an appointment, mainly with a group of fantastic authors that included Anya Bast (and her husband, James, and beautiful baby), Lauren Dane, Megan Hart, and Jeri Smith-Ready. Yes, I ate another meal ;-), at Palamino's, which was just across the street from the Hilton Ghetto. Lots of mirth and happy clanking of glasses. Lots of talk about books and favorite themes. Lots of interesting gossip about the bithnez. And I'm so going to one day imitate Lauren's very funny act. It's a mix of Dr. Seuss and 1950s movies upper-class drawl (just imagine Eva Gardner holding a glass of champagne and looking down her nose and going "dah-link") and a mezzo-soprano singsong:
"I will NOT write brothers in bed TOgethah. No, no, NOooo. I will NOT have InCESt. I will NOT have that Mess. I will NOt, no...never, ever, not for meee, it's not SExee, not at all, no, no, nononononoNO! Now BRING me my HOOKah!"
Heehee. You just have to see it to enjoy the act. Lauren is so going to kick my ass when she reads this.
Later that day, I went to a panel with three very different and prolific authors, Barry Eisler, Heather Graham and Alexandra Sokoloff called Die For Me. These authors showed us all the different ways to write about killers and killing. It was quite a fun session, especially when Barry, a martial arts expert, stood up and demonstrated how to kick a door down. Wooh baby. That was hot. I assure you all the attending ladies approved of the technique.
He then sat down, a bit embarrassed, and added, "of course, writing about killing is like writing about brain surgery--one isn't really a killer or a brain surgeon." To which, some smartass chica named Gennita chimed in, "Unless, of course, you're staying at the Holiday Inn." I don't know why I did that. It just came out....
Later that evening was the Underwater Faerie Ball. I wore a gown the color of the ocean, and brought along a cape in case the waters got cold.
Who did I spy first?
It was the tall nymph, Marjorie Liu. She just arrived earlier that day, so her human glamor still clung to her.
The ballroom decor was absolutely beautiful, with appropriate lighting. It felt like we were all moving in an underwater realm. Especially when all around, we saw:
mischievous sprites,
fairy queens and love slave (heh, that's just Sly, a good friend)
and here's Queen Christine Feehan herself, holding court. She hosted a speakeasy after the Ball. Many Australian friends didn't understand what a speakeasy was and I had to explain about illegal gambling and drinking during the 20s. She didn't get the connection with the fairy ball, so I told her magical beings love to gamble and carouse, LOL.
Here's me with one of the magical beings. Damn, on second look at the pic, I'm going to have to contact Marianne Mancusi and Liz Maverick to check this out. MY BOOBAH HAS ALSO BEEN GRAZED! Is this a male thang? See Liz's similar experience at http://www.rebelsofromance.com/.
Here's another one of my favorite magical beings, the immortal John de Salvo. He came over while the other guys were gambling and charmed my cape off.
Maybe it was the magic potion, courtesy of Queen Feehan:
CF H2O brew, the stuff that makes a night powerfully magical.
The night ended with a lovely chat with Hank, his companion, and Kayla Perrin, who tried to spoil it by telling everyone I was an evil shapeshifter. She chased away Barry Eisler (check out his live blogging on the RT forum) by boa-ing him to death. Wait till I get her to send me the pic. Barry will never live this down. I'll have to demonstrate this boa-ing technique the next time he's in a "murder" panel.
Bedtime before 3am....(I'll update this post as soon as I get more photos from friends)
I'm back home. Yup, went on the roof today. Chased after a couple of inspectors. Sigh over some permits. Oh...yes, it was toolbelt time. How I long for yesterday....
I'm going to give a recap of my RT 08 experience day-by-day, so bear with me as I resize pics, cut out odd shots, and brighten-n-contrast.
Like I said, the hotel room was just horrendous. It smelt of sawdust and plaster and like I told you, I developed an allergy on the last day of the conference. A side of my face was red with some kind of weird looking rash and my throat was feeling scratchy.
But let's not go there yet...we're at the beginning, when everyone was getting started. And where do authors start their conference? Why, at the bar, of course.
Ro my right is Jill Smith (RT reviewer) and to my left, Jackie Kessler (Road to Hell).
Sitting across from me was the very talented Caitlin Kittredge (Night Watch) and Jeanne Stein (The Watcher).
Also across from me was Cheyenne McCray (Shadow Magic) and Barry Eisler (Requiem for an Assassin).
All these photos are courtesy of Mark Henry (Happy Hour of the Damned). Also present was Michelle Rowen and Richelle Meade. We were all thirsty and noisy, and I was so happy to be among so many talented authors.
Then I met with my roomies, Jeri Smith-Ready and Ann Aguirre, and we giggled at how to fit the extra bed in our tiny room. We finally decided to send that away and push the two beds together to make one huge one for all three of us. There were suitcases and boxes of books strewn all over the room as we chatted away, still kind of in shock at the state of the hotel and that we were all Internet-less. I felt horribly lost without it and vowed to look for the Vortex of Internet Connectivity in the lobby.
But first, we must go to the Ellora's Cave party. Why? Well....
It is not the beginning of RT without a welcome by the Ellora's Cavemen, you know.
The theme for the night was Hollywood. The EC authors all have their own Hollywood Walk Star. Those in costume came as a Hollywood icon.
Here is the lovely Heather Graham, dressed as Carmen Miranda. I look like a dowdy grandma beside her.
The fans were having fun too, as you can see from the above shot.
On the dance floor, sexay Lauren Dane made flirty eyes as she boogied.
I was hugged left and right by friends I haven't seen for a year. Here's me and Mark with his friend.
Here's my good friend, Rodney, Mr. Romance 2006. He was my "speech trainer" in 2003 and we've been great drinking buddies since.
Yes, I didn't need no steeenkin' Hollywood costume to get hugged by Rodney, nyah nyah. I shared a few drinks with Michelle Buonfiglio, who cracked me up with her earthy sense of humor. She taught me the secret of lip gloss and camera ;-).
The EC party got quite wild. There was some eyebrow raising moments. Some ladies swooned at the gyrating bodies. Others were watching with big grins on their faces. Let's just say, the EC Cavemen lived up to their name ;-).
Later in the night, way past innocent bedtime, not to be out-danced, some of the Mr. Romance contestants took over the stage and showed the girls some of their own moves too. As you can see, they weren't shy at all.
Yes, the roofing world was far, far away....
Day Two Recap tomorrow.
I'm in between planes, and suffering from Hotel Hilton Sawdust/Plaster Inhalation and Rash, so I'm jotting down these Romantic Times moments because I know I'll be braindead and sick by the time I reach home.
THRILLER AUTHOR BARRY EISLER is no longer an RT Virgin.
I SPIED ON J.R. WARD
I SPIED FABIO GRAZING A BOOBAH
The hand. The smirk. Heh. For this story, you'll have to read it at Liz Maverick's and Marianne Mancusi's Rebels Of Romance blog. Liz and Marianne write some of the most innovative books (Dorchester's Shomi line) and I love the videos of RT they've been filming together. Check out Day One and get a taste of the Goody Room. And of course, check out how Fabio grazed Liz's boobah.
MEETING GREAT AUTHORS
I want to put down the names here before I forget. It was such a pleasure to meet the following authors up close over meals and drinks:
1) Anya Bast, her wonderful husband and her beautiful baby
2) my dahlink Lauren Dane who was as scintillating in person as online
3) Cheyenne McCray, prolific and magnificent, with new trademark shoe (grin)
4) Mark Henry, who writes twisted books about zombies, who is just as killer witty in person
5) Sasha White, a quick hug
6) Judith Rochelle, another quick hug
7) Jeri Smith-Ready, my patient roommate who tolerated my dropping stuff in the room at night
8) Ann Aguirre, my other patient roommate who tolerated my kicking her in bed at night
9) Samantha Kane, whom I tried to kill when I found out she won the raffle ticket to SIT NEXT TO ADRIAN PAUL at a dinner function
10) Caitlin Kittredge, debut author (Night Life), with four or five books coming out, who made me feel my age when she announced that she just turned 22. Arghhh. :::headdesk:::
That's all I remember right now but these authors and many more made the whole week so much fun.
I'm also thankful for all the readers who made RT such a great experience (I have photos later). Wow, wonderful costumes this year, folks. Thank you, especially, to those readers who came by my spot during the Book Fair, helping me almost sell out all my books! Meeting happy readers and booksellers is always my most favorite thing at RT, and to have them come to me to talk about my books and demanding more, made my whole week of HOTEL HELL worth it. And yes, answering questions about His Jedness all four hours is always fun ;-).
Lastly, meeting up with good friends: Marjorie Liu (that awesome author with 2000 books out), my drinking buddies Jill Smith (RT reviewer) and Michelle Buonfiglio (Romance B(u)y The Book blogger), Kathy Love (who has an entire rock and roll band as her entourage, how 'bout that for awesome?), Bonnie Vanak, Stacey Agdern, the best New York bookseller who shared Cambodian Food Orgasms with me on the last day at RT, Su, my RBL sweetheart whose crazy sexiness captured John de Salvo's eye, J.R. Ward, Kayla Perrin, Rosemary Potter (all the way from Australia!), my dancing partner, the sexay and lethal Cherie, over whom I have a total girl-crush, and so many more.
Awesome, awesome memoments (my new word). I hope to write more about the whole RT shebang when I'm back home in one piece, hopefully with most of my brain intact. Thank you, Romantic Times, for organizing a great convention. I always have a great time being author, reader, and amazed observer through the whole week. I heart RT.
And so, Glow Peeps, how was your week?
Traveling today.
But here is a awwwww moment.
Ewan is myLifetime.com's cameraman (Michelle Buonfiglio's wonderful Romance B(u)y The Book). It was his wife's birthday yesterday but he had to miss it. When his interviewee, FABIO, heard about it, he made Ewan give his wife a call and got on the phone:
"Hi, I'm Fabio. I'm sorry Ewan is missssing your birthday. It's all my fault. I apologize. I hope you're not tooooo angry. I want to wish you Happy Birthday."
Awwww. A call from Fabio on your birthday. I think Ewan is forgiven ;-).
I leave you with that as I'll be running after airplanes all day today. It's back to Bad Puppy and my Mutant Poms. I heard Bad Puppy has been refusing to eat without me. Awwwww.
P/S I've discovered that Michelle Buonfiglio is my long lost evil twin. Which means, she gets me into trouble a lot.
The day went downhill after staring at the video of Warhol (at the Warhol Museum) videoing another artist painting with a brush sticking out of naked butt. It was...memorable, and much too deep a subject for me. And the picture of the artist on the wall, smiling benevolently behind his brushes sticking up in the air. One cannot help but wonder whether that's really sanitary....
And then, there was last night. Oh. The. Horrorh.
My ears are still bleeding.
The effects of last night's Vampire Ball show is still haunting me. The PA system was so loud, I think my eardrums burst in the middle of trying to eat dessert. When I looked up at the screen and saw a transvestite on stage humping the Frankenstein, I picked up a huge raw spear of broccoli and tried to commit suicide by stabbing my forehead with a sexy vegetable. Sitting not too far from me, a male writer was sawing his wrist with a butter knife.
I was then carried out of there by my table (yes, my table was running away) into the foyer where half the crowd had already escaped, nursing their eardrums with alcohol. I joined in.
Never did get back in there to watch the "vampire band" whose lead singer's name was SUNNY. I did hear him shouting into the PA of death, "ARE WE HAVING FUN YET, PITTSBURGH???!"
To which the crowd yelled back, "NOOOOooooo!" Now that was classic funny. An honest rock-n-roll crowd.
"Oh, comeon, you're supposed to say "YES!"" the lead singer admonished. "Now, are you having FUN YET, PITTSBURGH????!"
"NNOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooo!"
I think that about summed up the how hysterical the whole thing was. I gulped down another brew of forgetfulness, and the rest of the night was a blur. I do remember someone singing "Hotel California." There were walking monsters all around me, some still in pain. Very apt.
Oh, the horror. The HORROR.
***********************
Even scarier was Hotel Hiltonia. The news of the day was that one of the elevators fell almost three stories. Argghhhh.
Some woman stepped on a puddle of paint in her new shoes. Argghhhh.
Someone told me Obama was at this hotel a few days ago (trying to find rest before the debate), Ummm. Dude. Wrong hotel. I heard he left soon after. I don't blame him.
*********************
Today is the Book Fair. I'm sure it's going to be a noisy, wonderful affair of booklovers squeeing and talking at the top of their voices. It's always fun but exhausting. Come, if you're nearby!
You know we romance authors love our lives of luxury. Below are our glamorous abode, the Hilton Ghetto.
This is the hallway that leads to the dungeon. It's partially wallpapered. If you look up, you can see the beautiful lighting.
Closeup of the lighting that is so essential for our beauty and writing. Notice the hole in the wall.
No
Hair
Dryer.
NO COFFEE POT.
This is getting serious now and I can't bitch about it on the Net long because the Vortex for Internet Connectivity only lasts for a few minutes and then it disappears until proper supplication of cursing is given.
And let's not mention the drilling and construction pounding coming from outside our windows in the morning. It makes me feel...quite at home. Sigh. There is no wallpaper on half the hallway. And need I mention the paint splatters from the speed they finished the rooms so arriving guests can have them. This is a crazy hotel--and I've been to some doozies--and very close to taking the prize for the Worst Convention Hotel of All Time.
Overheard last night, which I thought--at that moment--was extremely hilarious. You might just think I was being bitchy. But hey, you got to be there to see the facial expressions.
I was shooting the breeze with Andre, Mr. Romance 2005 and Cherie, my Australian girlfriend at the end of the party, just talking, because I've known Andre since his competitive days. He's a very down-to-earth, quiet kind of guy, very sweet, and very well-traveled.
Enter newly published author, with big news about her book, and a bit drunk.
"Hi, I'm ******** and my book is coming out *****! And my publisher is sending me on a book tour to Europe!"
"Great!" I said.
"Oh, how cool. I live in England now."
Author basically ignored us and beelined to Andre. "So, where are you from?"
"Malta," Andre said.
"Oh, I just drove by there."
Andre's expression was priceless. "Uh--I don't think so."
"I did, I did! I've been traveling cross-country the last eight weeks! I'm sure I passed by your town. Where is it exactly?"
"In the middle of the Mediterranean," Andre deadpanned.
Cherie and I nearly died. It was hard not to laugh and of course, we didn't do it in front of the woman, but wow! It's got to be embarrassing to be smacked down by a male model.
My RT adventures continue. I wish I could show you guys pics, but this connection is slower than DRYING MY HAIR WITHOUT A HAIRDRYER. Hope you guys are behaving.
This Hilton Hotel sucks. It has no Internet because of construction. They have "hotspots" that are barely warm at best. The hotel blames construction. Yeah, so that's why there's no wallpapers outside the rooms and the rooms have no toilet paper, clock, or hairdryer. No coffee pot. Did I say no wireless? They're going to have 1000 very pissed-0ff women for the next few days....
I enjoyed the following joke precisely because it is exactly HOW logical IRS forms are:
The following short quiz consists of 4 questions and will tell you whether you are qualified to be a professional. The questions are NOT that difficult.
1. How do you put a giraffe into a refrigerator?
Correct Answer: Open the refrigerator, put in the giraffe, and close the door. This question tests whether you tend to do simple things in an overly complicated way.
(IRS Instructions: See the box in the middle of nowhere? Put this amount in this box, of course)
(Me: Putting that number in the box in the middle of nowhere)
(IRS Next Instruction: Now, put this number on another form and attach it with this other form. Why? Because this form will support that form)
(Me: Oh.)
(IRS LOGIC: You may ignore Page A. Go to page B. Put all the other numbers there)
(Me: What other numbers?)
(IRS red flag: The ones from the previous page)
(Me: But you told me to ignore Page A!)
(IRS: Silence)
(IRS: You can use these deductions, but only if it's 2 percent of net, no, gross, no, net, no, gross income)
(Me: But last year you said I can you these Other Deductions)
(IRS logic: We don't remember last year's rules)
(IRS: Sorry, you're out of money again. We have apartyMEETING to go to now because you actually worked! Better luck next year)
I'm really getting Turbo-rized now. Humor me. Because I'd rather be doing something else than stuck with numbers.
Tell me what you're reading and how you like it.
If you need some recommendations, have you seen this LIST? I bet you'll find something on this page.
;-)
Back to work.
So what do you do when you can't sleep because your mind is full of numbers and now commandos are running around in there ordering/demanding you to give them their plot?
http://www.procreo.jp/labo/flower_garden.swf
Left click, and run the cursor all over the black screen. Over and over. Oh wowwwww, man. Let me get some coffee because I need to finish writing....
This evening, I ran with the Alpha Male. Or rather, he hobbled-ran and I gave him a head start ;-). His leg is definitely much better since the second operation but we think the surgeon cut an inch or two off his thigh muscle because he still can't bend his leg all the way because the muscle's shrunk (imagine your thigh pulled to its limit as you try to go further than 80 degrees). The insurance has just cut off the therapy sessions so CV (Crash Victim) will have to pick up the slack by hitting the machines more.
Also, the hospital had helped him to rent a special leg-bending device--it acts like a medieval rack. He has to put his leg in it and using screws at the side and a nut and bolt crank system, slowly crank his leg to 90-degrees, and then he has to sit like that for 30 minutes. He said the first 20 minutes are okay, but the last 10 minutes are sheer torture as it slowly stretches that shortened muscle. He screams like a tortured soul the last few minutes. The mutant dogs all howl along.
All this and taxes. And trying to make the writing work in between the math and screaming. HeeeeLLLP!
Writing, taxes, all the numbers stuff.
Today's form is:
Form 1099ZIP.
Yes, a zipped file indeedy.
More later.
Moses.
Ben Hur.
El Cid.
Michelangelo.
The lone survivor on Planet of the Apes.
Mark Anthony.
Soylent Green.
Sir Thomas Moore.
John The Baptist.
Thomas Jefferson.
And let's not forget That Voice of his.
So many larger than life roles. An unforgettable actor and man.
I have many fond memories of watching The Ten Commandments in school every year. My teenage heart couldn't make up her mind who to like most--you or Yul Brynner--and I felt wicked liking the bad Pharoah. You two were my first fixation with my noble man vs bad boy dilemma.
As the years passed, I enjoyed many of your movies, the "extra" something you brought into each legendary role. No one has played so many legendary characters and made them so memorable. Every other Moses and Ben Hur paled in comparison after that. Thank you for the pleasure.
Charlton Heston has passed away, with his wife of 64 years by his side. Rest in peace, Mr. Heston.
Yes, it's that time of the year, and yes, I'm starting early. There's a whole mess of paperwork to untangle and I'd better be a good girl and load the TurboTax programs. Of course, the first evening is all about updates. The damn programs take hours to update whatever it has to update.
You guys know what to expect in the next week or two, right? Pictures of Forms. You know the drill. The more unhappy I am with my tax forms, the more I replace them with my kind of forms here.
Remember these? (COVER YOUR EYES VINCE!)
Form 1040NKED:
FORM 1040BDSM:
See? So much easier to comprehend. Definitely gets my full attention. Makes doing Business Taxes a scream. Or two. Wish I can do that with real life males ;-).
Yesterday, while cleaning out boxes and looking for receipts FOR DEDUCTIONS, I found the notes to my wunder-speech at the Colorado Romance Writers' conference. I reread it. It was quite good! It was titled Desperation Is My Hungry Friend. What Is Yours? I think I might retype it into my A Writer's Block blog because it might be useful to other writers too. The speech contained elements of everything I've told you about myself here and there--how I got where I am, my editor who called me, how I became a roofer, the little Jenn in Malaysia. It's quite long, so I'm not sure any of you would be interested, but perhaps it will help another writer continue his/her quest. Besides, if I type it out, I'll have a place to get a speech for my next gig :::grin:::: instead of me looking everywhere for the dusty notebook.
Damn, I'm good at procrastinating, aren't I? How did looking for deductions morphed into a silly speech about myself?
Ha.
Hahahahahahahaha. Thought that'd would get your attention.
Billary released their income tax information, including 2007's, to the public. Since both of them are published authors, I was curious about their book income deets.
Hilary made $10,457,083 for two books: Senator Clinton's book income is comprised of earnings for Living History ($10,267,895), including an $8,000,000 advance, and It Takes a Village ($189,188).
President Clinton's book income is comprised of earnings for My Life ($23,280,525), including a $15,000,000 advance, and Giving ($6,300,000).
For those unfamiliar with terms, advance means money that's paid out immediately (or sometimes divided in stages of a book, but I doubt this is so with Billary) after signing the book contract. Just so you can make a comparison, most authors' advances fall between the $5000 to $10000 area. Then, they have to wait till the books earn out their advances before they see any royalties. Most authors have a printrun of 20,000-30,000, so with, let's say, a $5000 advance, said author will have to sell 10,000 books before she sees any kind of income. Let's just say that it is very hard to earn out an advance that is really high...like, let's say, $8,000,000. Heh heh. Doing some Saturday morning quick math, and without math genius RB around, Hilary's book sold, oh, about 2 million copies (2,000,000).
Sigh. I'm not greedy. I'd be happy at 500,000 copies. At 50 cents royalty per book, I can forget about roofing for a while, yes? And not scrounge around to make sure all the bills are paid before buying that air ticket to Pittsburgh, yes? (The ticket, btw, was so ridiculously priced, I had to get it. It's CHEAPER to fly than to drive there, can you believe it?)
Well, there you have it. There are no starving artists among the elite, not with an $8 million advance...heck, I could take off a whole year to write a book then, huh? ;-)
You can see more of this natural phenomena at http://www.hatsofmeat.com/. They even have an annual conference, if you're a meathead. And, if you ever bet on anything and attached, "... or I'll eat my hat!" to it, you know what you have to do if you lose that particular bet.
MAY 07
