Barnes & Noble and Book Business

I went to the DC area to visit family for Chinese New Year celebrations.  We went on a side trip to Inner Harbor at Baltimore, MD.  While they explored the ships and aquarium, I had a grand time checking out the Barnes and Noble there.

Converted from the old power plant, the massive building was impressive at first sight, with the Hard Rock Cafe guitar logo stationed right above.  I just love the way the shelves were decorated around the old smoke stacks (I think they were the original ones) and there were so many books!  I'm happy to say that the romance section was well-represented and not hiding in some corner, like in most of BN box-like buildings nowadays.

Have you ever been there?  I believe the old style big book stores are going away, especially with Borders heading for bankruptcy. BN is closing some of its buildings and concentration on their online presence, especially now that its Nook and self-publishing division, Pubit, are becoming more popular with consumers.

Personally, I do think that, in spite of the rising popularity of ebooks, there is still hope for bookstores, especially new-and-used independents that had been going through some tough years.  There are still readers who love browsing for paperbacks and used books; also, many still love the fact that, unlike ebooks, which aren't transferable, their books are actually theirs to resell and exchanged, if they wanted.

My friend's new-and-used bookstore is doing well.  Although the majority of her readers are older (being in the Sunshine State), she's seeing an influx of younger readers, those who had graduated from Harry Potter and Twilight, looking for new YA books.  One of the ways I help my friend is to introduce her to new authors from books I've gotten from RWA, so she could order the ones she feels her readers would enjoy.  I'm surprised and happy at the new younger readers and during my convention visits, I shall look for YA books for them.

My friend has always encouraged me to open a similar bookstore like hers for my retirement (yeah, rooferauthor here is getting old) and I've always resisted because of my schedule and also seeing so many small bookstores going out of business.  However, I'm beginning to think that there is a way to make a living with a new-and-used independent bookstore, with the right location and small overhead. 

Many readers don't hoard books like I do (at least, that's how I see it, from looking at my friend's customers); they buy new books and return them for credit to get the back list of authors they enjoy.  One thing that doesn't change, though--they're all avid readers. They drop by at the store with one or two loads of books and leave with that many.  Now that there are younger readers doing the same, there's hope for the business!

So maybe one day, and it's not as far off as I'd like, you'll find the rooferauthor is now rooferbookstoreownerauthor. :-P  As some of you know, I'm a packrat, with multiples of many favorite things.  It'll be interesting to see how hard it is to part with some of my collection!

Do you have a historic or interesting book store (BN or independent) in your area? Any bookstore owners out there?

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Doing RT The Untraditional Way: My Book Family Meets Up With My Other Family, or, You Know Jenn's Going To Be A Headless Chicken

Nope. Didn't fly. I'm protesting the stupid Airline Bundling Program in my little way. Hey, Airlines-Looking-For-Revenue, I'm a customer, not a package you have to delivered. I'm someone looking to go somewhere in the easiest, most relaxing way possible, and right now, YOU ARE NOT IT. And I'm not a hassle to your BUSINESS. Not a piece of stinky meat you have to pass on. Not some group of strangers you can trapped in an airport or a tarmac for three hours because you think we're animals wasting your fuel. I REFUSE. So, I'm driving. And taking my own sweet, relaxing time. Eff you.

Ahem. Rant Button Off.

I spent most of yesterday and most of last night driving to Ohio. It dawned on me last night, while careening through the dark mountains in Virginia and West Virginia, that I've never driven through the Appalachians in the dark. It's always been breathtaking scenery and wonderful mountain driving. Umm. Not in the dark. There was fog and crazy, intense truck drivers, with none of the view, which perhaps, was a good idea, since, everything seemed to be hurtling past at a near-uncomfortable speed, even though I wasn't speeding. Mountain curvy roads in the dark--chalk that experience for a future commando scene!

At the rest stop, I was the only little car there and there were many big burly truck drivers stamping their feet and stretching out inside the facilities. Me not skeered. I bravely donned my Florida hunting jacket and marched inside to get me a candy bar. IT IS WINDY COLD at night in the mountains! Whoa, my poorh Floridah Butth.

Quickie memories from daylight:

***Strangest sight was watching this huge mosque loomed up out of the blue while listening to Christian channels sermonizing and singing. It was very pretty but gave me an unexpected laugh because I was just fiddling the radio stations, which jumped from one Christian gospel thing to another--which was fine, only I was getting tired and wanted something more peppy--and then I looked left and the sight of the huuuuge golden dome amidst local bluegrass music woke me up. I won't forget that too soon.

***I got a kick out of listening to the West Virginian weather lady on some channel. Her accent was totally mesmerizing. She sounded as if she was putting the accent on the wrong syllable. Kinda like me, to many people, heh heh. Anyhow, she came on faithfully every fifteen to twenty minutes, and I loved her for making repeated weather patterns of the coming 24 hours seemed so exciting.

***Taking a side trip to my university. It's still the same, down to the same two pubs I hung out in--The Pub and Pawpurrs. Down to the SAME table with my scratched lover's name in the corner. I loved the windy roads that shouldn't be able to fit two cars at the same time. I checked out the woods where I threw away the ring my first boyfriend gave when he broke up with me, and had a good laugh because man, that was a gold ring, bought when gold was $300 an ounce. Gold is over $1000 now. Shoot. Damn. Pooh. I peeked into the library that I'd loved so much (8 storys of books!!!). Of course, I bought an over-priced teeshirt. Gah. Tricked by sentiment again.

Anyway, I'm staying overnight at my sister (yes, I have many, many siblings and we have invaded many of the states). My two nephews just came home and they're these TALL GAWKY teens. When did they grow that tall? Also, the Chinese just don't call their relatives "cousins" or "aunts" or "hey," we actually have designated names that tell each other where we stand in relation to age and which side of the family. Only, I've kind of forgotten. Usually, it's my sisters introducing me to the kiddies all over again and then they mouthed the proper respectful term. But my sis is at work. So the two TALL GAWKY teens, used to being to nudged by my mom, just stood there looking at me to prompt them and I...blanked. Was I the "YeeMah" or "KuMah" or "KuChieh" or "Tai-something-other?"

They stood there and stared. I stared back. Awkward silence ensued."

Finally, I said, "Hey."

LOL. I'm very traditional, can't you tell?

This is the start of my weeklong adventure. Romantic Times Convention meets family stuff. Romance models meet siblings attending signings. Crazy costumes vs well-bahaved author. Oh, boy.

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Eulogy To My Miracle Girl

Mira (left) and Temper (right), both of whom love to mug for the camera

Thank you, everyone, for all the outpouring of love and condolences today. I'm feeling a little numb but I'm doing okay. You know I go through this at a lot more these past few years what with the original six being up there in years. Their father had been with me since I started roofing! And Mira Girl, as I called her, was special because she wasn't supposed to make it as a baby and I nursed her all night by rubbing her nose and chest with wintergreen. That was over 13 years ago, and yeah, she lived up to her name.

I'd like to share a "reworked" poem sent by another reader to comfort me.

ON LOAN FROM GOD
by Carla Baker

God promised at the birth of time,
A special friend to give,
His time on earth is short, he said,
So love him while he lives.

It may be six or seven years
Or twelve or then sixteen.
But will you, till I call him back,
Take care of him for me?

A wagging tail and cold wet nose
And silken velvet ears,
A heart as big as all outdoors,
To love you through the years.

His puppy ways will gladden you
and antics bring a smile,
as guardian or friend he will,
be loyal all the while.

He'll bring his charms to grace your life
And though his stay be brief,
When he's gone the memories
Are solace for your grief.

I cannot promise he will stay
Since all from earth return,
But lessons only dogs can teach
I want you each to learn.

Follow his lead and gain a life
Brim full of simple pleasure,
Whatever love you give to him,
Returns in triple measure.

Enjoy each day as it comes,
Allow your heart to guide,
Be loyal and steadfast in love
As the dog-child at your side.

Now will you give him all your love,
Nor think the labor vain,
Nor hate me when I come to call
To take him back again.

I fancy each of us would say,
"Dear Lord, thy will be done,
For all the joy this dog shall bring,
The risk of grief we'll run.

"We'll shelter him with tenderness,
We'll love him while we may,
And for the happiness we've known,
Forever grateful stay.

"But shall the angels call for him
Much sooner than we've planned,
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes,
And try to understand."

*****

My dogsitter was kind enough to bring the last remaining sibling, Temper, to see her sister so that she won't wonder about her partner-in-crime. She told me Temper went and sniffed Mira and gave her a final kiss on the nose. I'd probably have bawled my eyes out if I were there.

My Chinese New Year celebration ended on a sombre note. Family get-togethers and family parting-of-ways. But that's what life is all about, isn't it?

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Family Too

I really need to set up a web cam system in my house. I get so worried about my furbabies when I'm away these days because of the two Grand Dames. This morning my dogsitter called and told me Mira wasn't breathing right and I wish I was able to switch my puter on and quickly look at her to see for myself, you know? Anyway, she's at the emergency clinic and I'm walking around here pretending to pay attention to what everyone's talking about while my mind is on my furbaby.

My family, being Chinese, has never been into pets. Not the same way we do here, anyway. So, their understanding of our emotional ties to our furbabies is almost nil. I remember when my first dog died, I cried my eyes out, and my parents thought I was crazy.

So, needless to say, my sisters here aren't treating the situation the same way I do, because you know, that's just a dog being sick, not a kid. I obviously don't see it that way ;-P.

Anyway, I'm hoping that Mira will get better. She's 13 and is an obstinate old lady. Can't wait to be home so I can have her in my arms. Some good healing vibes and prayers, if you can spare some, please!

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Blame The Good Book!

I'm in D.C. with my sisters. Four sisters and one brother in one house. With spouses and kids. Snow outside. Oh boy. I think I'd better start buiding my secret stash of snowballs.

I almost didn't make it out of Daytona today! There I was, with an hour fifteen minutes to kill, so I pulled out Ava Gray's SKIN GAME and started reading. The story is about a grifter heroine and an assassin sent to kill her. You're damn right that's a Big Conflict right there.

So there I was, happily reading the beginning of a long con, enjoying the sexual tension between the two newly-met characters, and...and...a tap on the shoulder. I looked up, dazed.

"Excuse me, Miss, are you going on Flight ****?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Umm. Everyone's boarded and we're closing the plane door in one minute, Miss."

WHAT?

WWWWWWWHHHHAT?

But I just started reading! I looked at the book and realized that I had absorbed quite a number of pages already. I mumbled some apolog, picked up my carry-on, and rushed into the plane. So much for congratulating myself about being early and having plenty of time.

So, anyway, I arrived safe and sound. My sister is already threatening to bury me in that mount of snow in her backyard. Everyone's talking all at once. Me, I'm going curl up in the corner and read a few more pages of Skin Game.

What good book have you read lately? Do you get as lost in it as I do?

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Post #2: Squee! Bumped Into A Goddess On A Delta Flight!

Tired, yo. But I'm now in waiting hell. So, of course, out comes the IV. Drip, drip, drip, some puter juice please.

Guess who was sitting in the first class of my plane? The sweetness and not-so-light Dark Huntress, Sherrilyn Kenyon! She looked totally fab and relaxed, unlike someone else with straggly hair and tired eyes. She waved to me and told me to come up to say hi later, so a couple of hours later, I strolled up from the tuna seats to the goddess to ask her about her new book, you know, the one coming out at midnight about some dude named Acheron.

She complained that even she wasn't allowed a "real" copy of the book, that was how tightly the street date was enforced. There was just going to be one grand book launch and that's it till Tuesday morning when the rest of us masses can get our hands on it. Boo.

So did she relent and give me a few secrets about the book? Like, oh, who the heroine was? I leaned closer and was getting the goodies when a burly guy tapped me on the shoulder.

"Sorry, you aren't allowed up here," he growled disapprovingly.

Alas, I was forced out of first class, back to tuna class, just when I was getting the most delicious detail of all. I'm sorry. I didn't fancy being tied up by security for the next few hours for disobeying orders. So I flopped back among my fellow tunas and we tossed left and right till half an hour ago.

If things magically run smoothly (meaning no delay), I should be home before midnight EST. That will, yes, make me an extra tired tuna.

And then...yeeha! My Very Own Bed. No more sharing space with seven other women. That was a first for me; I don't think I have had seven roommates since my dorm days in college, and you know what? The experience hasn't changed one bit from those days either ;-). Only, instead of spending our free time wining and sharing secrets, most of us seem to opt to be a bit too literal about our "slumber" parties.

Before I post off, I thought I'd let you enjoy one more pic of Cindy Gerald and me doing a plotting workshop:

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I Need Your Uber Help

My feet feel as if they have grown into elephant size. Walking on pavement is so not like walking on a rooftop. And on heels! Arghhhhhhh. How do y'all do it everyday? My feet are killing me.

All my fault, of course. I went exploring and shopping after my meeting with my editor. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Fifth Avenue jewelry and clothes. All the way to Broadway to see whether I wanted to catch a show this time. Decided not to. Took the subway to Chinatown. Walk, walk, walk while I munched on everything I have been hankering after. I started limping after about three hours of shopping and had another foot massage again ;-). This time, the woman had just come from China, so I got to pseudo-interview her for a future book's material while she pressed down on all these pressure points on the bottom of my feet.

Refreshed, I stomped all the way back to Grand Central to say goodbye to Stacey Agdern. I treated her to some traditional Malaysian "cakes" that I've bought in Chinatown. She bought me a New York cheesecake that melted in my mouth. I guess the walking around is good in the sense that I get to walk off all the calories I put into me!

Anyway, I declare this short trip very successful and enjoyable. I love my agent and my editor, the two most important people in a writer's world. When you get the right ones, it's an unbeatable feeling!

Here's the update on the e-book I want to give to you through eharlequin. My editor says that she's still talking to the PTB about it and so far, doesn't have an answer. She thinks that it's a great promotional idea and really wants to help me do it, but the publisher, like every other publisher, is all about meetings and going through various departments and feedback.

My editor says that it would really help if I can get her PAPER feedback from my readers so she can keep them in a file which she can use to show her PTB during her meetings with them. E-mails are easily lost or deleted because no one prints them, but all snail mail is filed. If you can help me out by sending two snail mails about how you are enthusiastic about an e-book from me, one to the NY HQ and one to the Canada HQ, then, when they have their video conference about me, they will all have a copy of your feedback in their respective files ;-).

Here are the addys:
Gennita Low's Editor
c/o Keyren Gerlach,
233 Broadway, 10th Floor,
New York, NY 10279

Gennita Low's editor
225 Duncan Mill Road,
Don Mills, Ont. M3B 3K9
CANADA

Thank you so much for doing this. I know I can just simply give away a book from my site, but I think if I do it through my publisher, it'd be more professional and simpler. They have the net tools all set up and of course, I represent them and vice-versa, so everything would look good.

You would think that it would be so simple when I'm giving this e-book for free, wouldn't you? Apparently not! ;-P Nothing is simple when there are levels of inter-departmental redtape, I suppose.

Okay, now I rest for a few hours before catching my cab at 5am. Wahhhhh. Watch me turn into a bitchy elephant in the morning. I don't. do. AM.

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On The road Again

I made it to New York City without a hitch! You guys would have been proud of me. I took the rail from Newark, NJ into NYC without ending up in Pennsylvania ;-). Most of the time, when I take the plane into Newark, the cab fare cost about $60, so this trip, after talking to a fellow passenger, I decided to try to get to NYC with the rail link for $15, a big reduction in cost! The rail goes all the way to Penn Station, NYC, and from there, I can get a cab to my hotel.

The dangerous part was that there was another Penn Station in New Jersey, so I was warned not to get off there, OR, if I didn't pay attention, I'd end up in Pennsylvania, possibly. LOL.

But I arrived safe and sound in good old NYC. It was the first time I went into the tunnel under the river, which was a mind-boggling experience, even after jumping out of an airplane recently ;-). I mean, from the sky, I could see below me, but under the earth? It's like...um...yikes, what if the tunnel leaks? I think I understand how those Feehan Carpathian brides felt like when they were forced to go to sleep underground by their dumb Alpha Jerkosaurus mates ;-).

I am trying a new hotel and so far I really like it. For a reasonable price right in Midtown, it has a room bigger than most NYC cubby-holes, and it's equipped with free Internet (Yay! As you know, most charge $10 a day) and a new flat panel TV! Pretty good, huh? And it comes with free continental breakfast (which I'm having right now). There's a rooftop bar that's partially open air, and the bartender is a cute guy who doesn't know how to make Toasted Jenn Almond.

But a great little gem of a hotel, I have to say, with quite a few French businessmen and tourists entertaining my ears and eyes. I'm patting myself on the back for this find.

Yesterday, I walked to Grand Central Station for my signing at Posman Books, and finally met Stacey Agdern, who's, by the way, the RWA Bookseller of the Year for the NYC chapter. She's a fabulous woman, with lots of energy, and I'm so glad I got to meet her. Watching Stacey handselling books to each customer was such a pleasure. She was knowledgeable, enthusiastic, and each customer walked away from the romance corner of the book with more than one book, including mine, which she recommended to many new readers. I am in awe at her smooth and magnetic persuasiveness!

After the signing, Stacey and I decided to head off to Chinatown to eat at a Malaysian restaurant. This is the part where we got lost ;-). We walked from the subway and I saw this sign advertising foot massages for $7, so I told her we needed one. She agreed.

That was the strangest experience ever. It seemed that, for $7/10 minutes, you could have ANY part on your body massaged! It's a body-part massage place! And it was all done in semi-darkness publicly, bed-by-bed, with other strangers, mostly MEN, lying there having their backs or necks massaged! I guess that was why it was so darn cheap! LOL.

We went for it, anyway, and you could hear Stacey moaning with pleasure as the Chinese women pounded and rubbed and squeezed and knuckled the bottom of our feet. Boy, they were good! $7 for $10 minutes a foot? We were ready for more walking after that! Stacey called it the salad-bowl massage parlor, heh.

We then went off to look for our restaurant, made a wrong turn and walked all the way to almost a dead-end, where many Chinese people were standing around dressed in black in front of a doorway with traditional lanterns. It turned out to be a funeral parlor, with ceremonies for the dead being held right then.

I turned to Stacey and said, "I don't think we'll be finding a restaurant at this end!" We turned around and it was kind of eerie, with the quietness of that particular street, since a few minutes ago, everything was so festive around us. When we turned the corner, we were back on the main happy part of town, and I remarked, "Hey, see how fun I am? First I take you to a body part place, then I took you to a whole dead body place!" That cracked Stacey up so hard, she just said, "Awesome!" LOL.

We finally found the Malaysian restaurant and I treated her to some good satay, wonderful Hainanese Chicken Rice and FANTASTIC nasi lemak, a special curry and rice concoction. Stacey and I ate and ate and ate in between marvelous conversation about books, favorite authors, and publishing in general. We had rambutan drink, a fruit juice. The rambutan is a hairy red fruit, and in Chinese, we called it "red-haired thing." Inside is opaque-white sweet fruit, with a pit in the middle.

We sort of rolled out of the restaurant after that and walked the calories off up and down Canal Street, looking at different wares for sale. I pointed out the longan fruits, which meant "Dragon Eyes" in Cantonese but didn't buy any. Not tonight! Too full.

When we finally parted ways, I walked all the way up to Fifth Avenue just to get some NYC atmosphere, smell the night garbage in the air, and then headed back to the hotel, just in time to see the NY Yankees end their season. So solly, Yankee (coughSQcough) fans!

Deciding to have a congratula...commiserating drink, I went up to the rooftop bar I mentioned earlier. It was a humid night and the little breeze at that height felt so good! I ordered Toasted Jenn Almond and watched in amusement as the young man made a concoction that had none of the drink's ingredients. He kept looking at me for some kind of confirmation as he tossed in a shot of this and a shot of that, and being a good customer, I kept a straight face and didn't say anything as he squirted more stuff than I thought possible into one small drink. Hey, my room was just a floor below, so I figured there wasn't far to go if I got drunk on one little drink.

So I paid for it, sat down, watched the starless night sky and took a gulp. I knew he was watching me. I didn't even let out a cough as fire exploded behind my eyes, LOL. God, that drink was fabulously strong. I'm going to have to ask him to make another Toasted Jenn Almond his way again some time, heh.

I toasted the sky for another great day ahead. Watched it swim in front of my eyes. Thought I was skydiving again for a few secs as my head felt disembodied from the rest of me. Hey, another body part-related event!

Bade the bartender goodnight and headed back to my room. On the way, I saw a woman on the floor by the elevator, surrounded by her friends. She'd stumbled and hurt herself, cutting her nose and forehead with her spectacles. She looked woozy. I wondered whether she had drank two Toasted Jenn Almonds.

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From Workshop To Bodyshop

I'm here in Charleston to do a workshop about why BOOK TWO is, in some ways, more difficult and more important than BOOK ONE. My topic was roughly titled "second books and second contracts: why they are important to an author." It was fun talking to the writers who are at different levels of their career, giving insight on how the "second" manuscript wasn't just a second book, or a middle book, or a "set-up to the finale" book. It was also interesting to discuss about contracts because I feel many authors don't share the process enough and many newer writers are more or less in the dark when it comes to what is in a publishing contract.

Everything went super well and the trip has been very nice except for one detail. Someone keyed both sides of my beautiful Lexus convertible ;-(. All along the door and front fenders. It's going to cost me quite a lot of money, I'm sure, to get the scratches and repainted. I've recently changed insurance company, and sure don't feel like seeing my rates go up.

It's painful to look at my beautiful baby all scarred up too. The strange thing about this is, that was my reward to myself after getting my second contract with my publisher. Because the second contract meant that I was "established." That my publisher thought that I was good enough to keep in their stable. So I bought my dream car and loved it.

And now some walking piece of human garbage has decided that it was fun to run his keys along the sides of my car. Not one side. BOTH. I am angry. The words running in my head aren't exactly print-worthy, and since I'm not at home, but with other people at a beach house, I have to ruthlessly bottle everything inside. It's killing me! Because, if I were home, I would have screamed and cursed, and frightened all the mutant poms into hiding.

So this is what Jed must feel like, inside, if you're wondering.

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