Chip MacGregor .com

Some perspective as we head toward Christmas...

It seems like everybody has been touched by this lousy economy. I read a report yesterday that explained why this is by far the worst economic climate of our lifetimes. Not only is unemployment at more than 8%, but the world of work has changed considerably. Over the past decade, there were many more people who were working at home, working part time, telecommuting, and cobbling together a living. If you include all those people (who weren't "laid off," they simply no longer have freelance jobs available to them), the unemployment rate is something closer to 15% -- the worst since the Great Depression. We've certainly seen that in publishing. Every house has cut staff, most have trimmed the number of books they'll release. Borders is on the ropes, some publishers look like they may be in trouble, and even Scholastic (who made a fortune introducing the world to Harry Potter) appears to have some serious issues. There's carnage everywhere in publishing. And even though we know that books are recession-resistant, overall sales have been down. 

What does a writer do in this sort of economy? I'd like to make a handful of suggestions to you. 

First, while things in the world economy may be dire, a depression isn't just about the world. It's about your individual projects. So, if you don't mind, I'd like to suggest you take break from the unrelenting bad news heard on the mainstream media. And even the sidestream media. I mean it -- turn off the TV, don't listen to talk radio, and stop checking FoxNews.com. It's the Christmas season, so give up broadcast media for a while. Consider yourself on a "news fast." You might think it's silly, but if you try it, you'll soon realize the benefit of not having fear-mongers and outraged talk show hosts fill your head with bad news. Decide you're going to take from now until Martin Luther King's birthday and stay away from the news. See if your attitude doesn't improve. (And let me tell you how this works for me: While many agents are spending time whining about the lousy publishing economy, I just keep working on the projects my authors represent. And I find them selling. Maybe not as many as two years ago, and maybe not for as much as they'd have sold for one year ago, but I"m still doing deals for people. Even in this bad economy, there are book deals to be made. I've found this to be true with other agent friends of mine -- we just keep working.) So turn off the Chicken Little, World-Is-Coming-To-An-End types, assume somebody will tell you if something important happens, and focus on your writing. 

Second, I want you to consider recent sales. Because the contracts I negotiate for my authors generally have confidentiality clauses, I'm not going to reveal the particulars, but I can tell you this much: the majority of deals I've done in the past five months have been exclusive. In other words, the project was created with one particular publisher in mind. There was forethought put into what the project would be, and who it would be aimed at. The author really focused on the needs of a particular house, created it especially for that publisher, and we sold it to them. Of the last ten deals I did, eight of them were designed with ONE publisher in mind. Let me offer one example, since it shows some insight into the way this works... Gina Holmes runs the popular "Novel Journey" website. She has worked on that for years, meeting people, making connections, slowly building up a name that people in the industry would recognize. When she began writing, she didn't have one particular house in mind, but she knew she had a strong story that would work in the market. Over time, we began to target one publisher that would be a nice match for her story. 

I spoke to the editor in charge of fiction there, so she'd know Gina was working on a book for her. The two spoke, the editor offered ideas for helping improve the story. Over time, Gina created exactly the novel that publisher wanted. And because Gina wasn't in a hurry, she was able to create a much stronger book. In the end, they made Gina a great offer -- much better than she'd have received if she had simply banged something out. There's not any one factor in this, but several ingredients that came together -- Gina's platform, her story, her writing ability, the relationship with the publisher, the allotment of time to let the story build, the feeling of partnership that developed (since we all prefer to do business with people know and trust). In a lousy economy, that's how publishing still works. So think about creating a book that is ideal for one house. (And this would be a great place to mention that Gina's novel, CROSSING OCEANS, is releasing next summer. It's going to be great!) 

Third, even if there's financial discouragement around you, commit to write every day. It's what you are gifted at, and what you are called to do. Why give up your best gift and your calling at a time when things are tight? Fix a time in your schedule, sit down at the same place each day, and bang out those thousand words (or those five thousand, depending on how fast you work). Continuing to write is probably your best therapy when the rest of the world looks like it's falling apart. Besides, in a world that's struggling, there is still a need for books that will change us, inspire us, encourage us, spur us to action, offer us an entertaining escape, or cause us to live more effectively. 

Fourth, if you really are worried about your writing career in this lousy world economy, do something for someone else each day. I mean it. When you do something tangible for someone else, when you encourage them or make a point of complimenting or thanking them, it changes your attitude about the world we live in. In her wonderful book Making a LIterary Life, Carolyn See says the two essential elements in a writers life are to write a thousand words a day and to send someone a charming note each day. That's great advice. So if you're concerned about the world and the economy, then take eight minutes every day and send a thank you note to that editor who talked with you at the conference, or write a note of encouragement to that author whose book you liked, or tell your publicist how much you appreciate her. Sure, it's a great way to network. But that's not the reason to do it -- you do it because it's one of the few things you can do as a writer that will get you out of your own world and into the world of someone else. Aren't you always encouraged when, out of the blue, you get one of those nice "thank you" notes for something you did that you considered a small token? Hey, we've had some very tough things happen lately. A couple authors I represent are married to people who have lost their jobs. A couple folks have faced serious health issues. A couple authors lost a parent or father-in-law. Several are facing a serious financial crunch. One good buddy, a wonderful guy who is doing a series of books with Bethany House Publishers, lost his twelve-year-old son unexpectedly just a few months ago. He and his family are facing their first Christmas after a huge loss. People need encouragement, and that's one tangible thing you can provide.

Fifth (and get ready because I'm about to sound like Pastor Chippy), examine your faith in God. Our treasure isn't in this world. Our trust really isn't in our stock portfolio or our 401k's. Our trust is in God, and He wasn't surprised when this depression began. He isn't sitting in heaven, slapping HIs forehead in surprise and saying, "I sure didn't see THAT coming." The fact is, I don't care if you're one of those people who reads this blog for the publishing advice and doesn't really believe in God. I have full confidence that God is still in charge, and still paying attention to this world, even if it looks like it's all falling apart. He still cares about you, and will still take care of you, even in difficult circumstances. So learn to trust God, however you perceive Him to be. If you're finding it hard, commit to reading your bible a bit each day in order to build your faith, and take the time to talk with someone about your concerns. We're all in this crazy business together, and at heart, we all love it. Publishing can be fickle, and certainly has the ability to ruin a promising day, but the fact is, we all know that words still matter, and if God really exists, that means He is in charge of publishing just like He's in charge of everything else. End of sermon.

I hope you have a merry Christmas. If you've got a question for an agent, send it in, because next week we're going to do a series called ASK AN AGENT. You can ask anything you've always wanted to ask an agent, and I'll try to answer it briefly but completely.  

The Dumbest Thing I Ever Did

Okay, we've all made stupid mistakes. Done things in a hurry and later regretted them. I remember once, a couple decades ago, when I was working as an associate pastor at a church, and we had a puppet team come in to work with our youth group. They had those big foam Muppet-like puppets, and were training our kids how to use them to do inner-city puppet shows. The girls were all handling the girl puppets, the boys the boy puppets, and we were all doing our Muppet voices and acting dopey. So, when the woman in charge announced we were going to take a break, I happened to be standing next to one of the girl puppets. I picked it up, slid my hand into it (which meant sliding it under the puppet's dress), and said, "I'd like to see how one of the girls feels." 

Oops. The room suddenly got real quiet. "Um... that's not what I meant!" I ended up having to call all the parents of the kids to apologize. Yikes. Sometimes it's the little things that come back to bite us. 

I tell that story because it's a Saturday morning, and I woke up to discover that, last night, while racing to catch up on some work, I did the dumbest thing I've ever done in more than a decade of agenting. Some background: As an agent, you try and figure out which editor and publishing house is a fit for each project you represent. You put together a list, and you query people, checking to see if they would, in fact, like to look at the manuscript. 

I've got a great novel that I'm representing, from a fine author. I've been really excited about this one, thought it had broad appeal, and put together a nice list of editors. Last night I sat down with that list, opened the proposal... and then SENT EACH OF THEM MY QUERY LIST INSTEAD OF THE PROPOSAL. That means when each editor reads my email and opens the document, instead of looking at the author's words, they'll be looking at a list of other editors and houses who are also receiving this query. Good grief. I've never done anything like that before, and it's such a stoo-pid rookie mistake that... well, I was in shock when I woke up today, checked my email, and saw a note from an editor friend saying, "Uh, Chip, you sent me your query list." AAAAAACK!!!!

Some days, I know I'm a good agent. Over the last year, I've sold more projects than any other agent in the country. I represent great authors. I have an ability to recognize good writing. And then, other days... I do something SO bad it leaves me shaking my head, aghast. Yikes. I'd like to be able to say, "That'll teach you." Except I don't really know what it'll teach me. Not to be a bonehead, I guess. Or maybe to appreciate editor friends who can be honest with me, instead of rolling their eyes and refusing to ever read anything I send them again. Good grief. And the worst thing is that I rarely create a long send list any more -- the industry has changed considerably the last couple of years, so that the majority of projects we sell are actually only sent to one or possibly two houses, since we try and target publishers instead of querying a long list of people. In this case, with a new author... well, again, yikes. I am, indeed, a bonehead. 

You know, years ago, when I was working as an agent at another company, we had something similar happen. We were working with an author named "Elizabeth," and she had a great project that two publishers were fighting over. One of the editors at one of those houses was also named "Elizabeth." Uh, you know how your computer will sometimes fill in the name in the "send" line of your email if you just type the first few letters? Well, my assistant MEANT to send a message to the author, laying out our strategy. Instead, she accidentally sent that email to the editor... who was NOT happy to find out she was being played, and who immediately withdrew from the whole deal. 

Sigh... It turned out okay, I guess. We sold that deal to a great publishing house (in fact, that author is STILL publishing with them, ten years later). And the funniest part of the story is that my former assistant who made that mistake is now WORKING FOR ELIZABETH, the editor who withdrew from the proceedings. I guess people really do forgive mistakes and grace abounds after all. Let's hope.

Geez. What a lousy morning. I'll go apologize to the list of editors who are opening up their emails and wondering, "Has this guy lost his freakin' mind?!" But first, I need to go buy myself a Starbucks, so I'll feel better. 

What's with the changes?

I've had several people write to ask me what's up with the changes... You see, on Facebook and Twitter, as well as in a lot of personal communication, I've explained that I'm making some life changes. First, I cut out the news. I did this earlier in the year, when I stopped watching TV for Lent. Just seemed like I needed to have less negative crud filling up my mind each day. So I trimmed it from my life, found myself less stressed, and I've kept it up. (Yeah, I know that Ted Kennedy died. It's amazing how you still hear stuff.) Anyway, my second step was to get rid of my Blackberry. Frankly, I felt I'd given people permission to contact me any hour, day or night. In some ways that's okay (I'm friends with the people I represent, and we all call friends during times of trouble), but it had begun to feel like I was always on my Blackberry. My life had become email. So quit. I turned it in on a regular "candy bar" phone -- just a stick that you can talk on. I still get text messages, so if it's crucial, I can still be in touch. 

But you know what? Much of life isn't crucial. We work in an industry where you turn in a manuscript today, and it comes out in a year. Not much of what we're doing requires something be done RIGHT NOW. So I gave up my Blackberry, and I admit I like not seeing emails all the time. I'm more relaxed. 

Third, I decided to do emails once per day. So instead of sitting and checking emails constantly, I'm trying to sit down once and blow through them all, giving responses and getting stuff done. Then I'll go back tomorrow and see what more needs to happen. (Okay, I'll admit I've not mastered this part yet. I'm still peeking at emails regularly. But I'm taking steps...)

Fourth, I'm trying to do the same with online browsing. There's not that much stuff on the web that I really need to check (Facebook once a day is enough for me, and I do the various wandering to youtube, The Ooze, and other favorite spots every few days). To be honest, it seems like much of my time wandering through websites is wasted -- like watching mindless TV sitcoms. The fact is, I keep up with a lot of friends via email, and I don't want them to feel cut out of my life. But I also don't want to think my life has become JUST online relationships. I've felt a need to be in personal touch with my authors more, and to make sure I have breakfast with Mike, and dinner with friends, and that I meet with Sandra Bishop face-to-face regularly. I think a lot of those online relationships may not be real -- they just have a veneer of relationship, but don't require much investment, so they feel like business acquaintances instead of actual "friendships." (There's nothing wrong with having a lot of business acquaintances, but I also want to make sure I have people who know me, and who I help in the real world.) So all this "taking away" is being balanced by trying to "invest in." I'm hoping to invest in more people in my life, and take time to help them. 

Fifth,  we're moving to a small town. I have some reservations (I'm a city guy, and I like being able to walk to dinner and show), but there's something about the pace and quietness that sounds appealing. The town is on the Oregon coast, where it's gray a lot and pretty slow anyway (except on sunny summer days when Cannon Beach is having a sandcastle contest, or somebody is throwing a blues festival). We've also downsized, and have tried to cut back on all the stuff and toys. Okay, maybe in a year I'll be going stir crazy, and I'll come back and admit my mistake. But for now, we're going to give it a shot. 

Sixth, I'm trying to read more for pleasure. Understand, I read all the time in my job, but I want to read books for pleasure more, and not just to see what the authors I represent are producing. That means turning off the TV at night and cracking a book (okay, this isn't that big of a sacrifice for me, but it ALSO means cracking a book instead of "going back to do more work"). 

What's driving this? I want to lead a quiet life. I want to find more peace, live with less stress. Get up, run on the beach (even if it's raining), drink my coffee, and take care of the authors I'm lucky enough to represent. It's funny, but some folks really don't get this. I've gotten plenty of people writing to say I'm cracked, or to offer advice on how to do things better ("Don't give up your Blackberry -- just ignore it in the evening!" -- that sort of thing). And the truth is, they may be right. I still like cities, and still enjoy the rush of the business. I still love to travel, and there's nothing I enjoy more than talking books with people. I'm still driven to be the best agent out there. But I don't think I want to live for my work any more. I want to settle down and invest in some friendships. I want to be involved in more hands-on ministry with people, I think. I want to be debt free and live a simpler, less noisy life. And I want to have the time to learn to play the bass guitar and work on my crappy golf game just a bit. (Not a lot. Just a bit.) 

So now you know. And, starting tomorrow, we'll be back to answering your publishing questions. I've got a backlog of nearly 100 questions people have sent in -- I promise to get going on them, and to offer some advice as I can. Feel free to send in any questions about writing and publishing, and we'll get to them in the next couple weeks. 

-Chip

The Latest from the Dark Side

As an agent, you never know what you're going to get when you open your in-box. I've had screeds, odd ramblings, and notes from every conspiracy wacko imaginable (One person revealed to me that "Jimmy Carter is the antichrist!" Um... Jimmy Carter?). So I thought you'd appreciate hearing some interesting stuff. 

First, I would like everyone to know that I must be very important, since this week I was sent a proposal from (drumroll please...) the Archangel Gabriel! No kidding. A writer got in touch with me this week to say that she channels the Archangel Gabriel on a daily basis, and that he would be speaking to me that very night. Who knew? 

Second, and speaking of nutjobs, a good agent buddy revealed that HE had received a proposal about "how to have sex in space." Woo-hoo! I'm sure it's all the rage among those with a billion dollars in their pocket.

Third, I have a proposal on my my desk that "proves" Hillary Clinton is the antichrist. ("Do not be fooled by the bishops who teach otherwise," it warns. So I'm wondering if the Jimmy Carter supporters are to be believed. It's a neck-and-neck race at this point in the antichrist campaign, apparently.) 

All of this comes as a shock to me, since I've been fairly well convinced that Neil Diamond is the antichrist. He is, after all, the one who penned these words: "I am, I said. To no one there. And no one heard at all, not even the chair." (Those are deeply stupid words. And read backwards, at slow speeds, you can hear Neil moaning, "Kiss me, Satan!")

Fourth, there's hope for all you loser guys, since I am now in possession of "How to Make Out with Chicks" (and no, I'm not making up that title). I'm fairly confident the author is not old enough to drink, which means it's not from the same guy who sent me "How to Pick Up Chicks" a few years ago. And sorry, but I'm not going to loan this one out until I've done my own research. Thoroughly.

Fifth, if nothing else, THIS should prove to you that some people in the church are crazy:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=raCRSjnT0Wc

Okay, I'm going to go put some fresh aluminum foil on my head...

Chip

The Wisdom of the Ages

Tammy wrote in to ask, "When an editor at a newspaper or magazine hands you a topic and tells you to write a story, where do you begin?" The is closely related to Dave's question: "When writing a book, where do you begin to find your information?'

The easiest way, of course, is to simply make them up. Specifically, create a name and a bunch of quotes. Make sure the name sounds vaguely academic ("V. Pennington Longbottom" works better than "Dan Smith.") Stick in some phony facts, making sure to use "actual" numbers (saying "9482 people believe Hillary Clinton is really Ted Kennedy in a wig" is much more believable than saying "nearly ten thousand people believe...") If anyone questions your sources, immediately attack them as heretics.

Another thing that works well is to generalize: "EVERYBODY KNOWS that literary agents are more trustworthy than publishers." The goal is to try and make people who disagree feel stupid.

In a pinch, citing Bible verses also helps. For example, you can say, "As the prophet Fiorello says in Formica 2:2, 'Only the good die young.'" (Note to Biblicists: You can also simply misquote a verse, like the people in CBA who use "Publish Glad Tidings" on their stationery, as though it were a reference to publishing books in 21st Century America. That sort of establishes a link between you and God in the minds of the readers. Trust me on this.)

In addition you can make your quotes close, even if they aren't exactly correct. Or even germane. I once read a review of one of the 762 anti-DaVinci Code books that appeared on religious bookstore shelves in recent years, and the reviewer used these words: "As Jesus is claimed to have said, 'Be still and know that I am God.' If only his modern-day disciples would follow his advice." Ha! Yeah, it's a cute line. The only problem is that it's entirely stupid. First, Jesus didn't say those words -- that's a line from the Psalms, as any idiot with a bible and a concordance would discover if he put two minutes of research into his work. Second, the words have absolutely nothing to do with the topic at hand...but what should that matter to a writer who wants to get a cheap laugh? Actual facts mean nothing to, say, Michael Moore -- why should they mean anything to me?

Next, be sure to use the word "obvious" a lot: "When looking at the state of publishing today, it's OBVIOUS that Tim LaHaye is a better writer than John Steinbeck. What has Steinbeck written in the past ten years?"

Also, make sure to be as vague as possible. Cite big names but don't offer any details to actually support your facts. As Mark Twain once said, "I don't need facts if I have a dynamite story." (see? It works!)

I serendipitously suggest you use really big words. Even if you don't know their meaning. It will make you look antedilluvian.

You may want to claim you have supernatural powers. For Christians, the gift of prophecy is particularly helpful. If you can routinely end sentences with the words "...in accordance with prophecy," you've got a bright future in religious publishing. And if anyone doubts you, simply pronounce a curse on him or her.

Above all, feign shock whenever anyone questions your integrity. This has worked extremely well for Peter Popoff, Robert Tilton, Jimmy Swaggert, Benny Hinn, and numerous others. I once watched some of Brother Benny's boys take the arm of an elderly lady, move her to the front of the auditorium, and seat her in a wheel chair, all the while explaining, "Brother Benny feels the Lord wants you right down front...why look! There are no chairs left. Here -- just sit in this wheelchair until we find you a regular seat." They never found it, apparently...but Brother Benny certainly found HER, and during the show got her to stand up and dance in front of the crowd, who was fooled into believing the old gal had actually SHOWN UP in the wheelchair. They doubtless went home happy and blessed, knowing in their hearts that all was well in the world of snakeoil evangelism. (I got to ask Benny about it later. He couldn't BELIEVE such a thing had happened. In the spirit of Major Renault-- "I'm shocked, SHOCKED to find that gambling is going on here!" -- Brother Benny was shocked, SHOCKED to find that humbug was going on here. There were real people who had come in wheelchairs that night, by the way. They all sat to the right of the stage. Brother Benny never made it over to that side. Probably an oversight.)

Trust me, if anyone questions you, be SHOCKED. Michael Vick was SHOCKED to learn there was dogfighting going on at his home in Virginia. Barry Bonds was SHOCKED to learn the guys at BALCO were giving athletes steroids. Tim Donaghywas SHOCKED to discover his calls as an NBA referee would influence games and help gamblers. Alberto Contador was SHOCKED to learn there was blood doping going on at the Tour de France. Hillary Clinton was SHOCKED to find the supposedly lost Rose Law Firm records to be, um, in her own closet. It's an effective strategy.

There you have it -- the wisdom of the ages.

Manners and Bad Poetry

In my last post, I mentioned blogs and sites I like, and I even said I was bound to leave somebody off...so, of course, I left some people off. Brandilyn Collins runs a cool site for novelists called "Forensics and Faith," and my buddy Mary DeMuth runs her "RelevantBlog," which is good. Fortunately they were gracious about it and didn't call me names. But they did ask for chocolate.

I also had somebody ask if I was going to begin posting poetry -- for those not in the know, I'm one of those people who is poetry-immune. Every poet is basically trying to promulgate the same idea ("Look at me -- I'm sensitive"), and though I can spot great prose, I have trouble spotting great poetry. That said, I can write some fantastically bad rhyming couplets, which is even better now that I've been informed by a poetry professor that rhyming couplets are definitely on the outs with the literatti. That means we need to have a really bad poetry contest. I'll work on that. I might even award something to the winner...possibly an AUTOGRAPHED, FIRST EDITION copy of "The Y2K Family Survival Guide"!

Speaking of all this reminds me to mention that I like the fact people have been polite in their comments. We just seem to run into a lot of impolite types in this business. You know the type I'm talking about...

-First, there is the author who asks you what you think of her novel, says she really wants you to be honest...then acts offended if you're not in love with it. I recently sent a very gentle rejection to someone, and her response was to come back and accuse me of being "a phony -- just like all those other agents who rejected me." Oh. In other words, if you get rejected by a bunch of literary agents, they're all wrong and you're right. And my agreeing with them makes me a phony. Uh-huh. I'm sure she's got a huge future in publishing.

-Second, there's the weird guy who follows you around at a writing conference and acts too friendly. He always has a bad book idea, feels compelled to tell you about it every chance he gets, and doesn't understand the concept of personal space. It's like being chased by Dr. Weirdness and the Children of Doom.

-Third, there's the person who acts like you're her personal assistant. "Here's my novel -- do a review and tell me what you'd change." Um...I don't represent you. You just sent this in cold. Where does it state that I have to respond to your request? The fact that you're a writer and I'm an agent does not  automatically mean that I owe you my time.

-Fourth is the guy who insists on a face-to-face meeting. Merely sending you his proposal is not enough. Why is it bad writers always think their work is going to improve if they can explain it? Do they plan to visit each buyer of their book in order to explain their concepts in person? A while back I had a guy call several times and ask for a meeting, eventually mentioning one of my favorite restaurants in town. I agreed...basically because I wanted to eat at the restraurant. At the end of the meal, after listening to what clearly was an unsalable idea, he says to me, "So...shall we split this?" Um...no, we shall not. You called me. You asked for the meeting. You asked me to invest my time in order to get my perspective on your work. This was your meeting. So it's your responsibility to buy the food -- and you shouldn't have to be told.

There are others, but you get the picture. Politeness counts...which is an odd thought, coming from me, I suppose. I've certainly used up more than my share of being impolite. I'll sometimes be too blunt in an assessment and hurt people's feelings. I'm not doing that to intentionally would someone, but negative words can be hard to hear. I recently sent a cryptic email to a fellow agent who took it as a rebuke. I hadn't meant it that way; I was simply offering my thoughts. Email can be a tricky thing at times.

One of the place where agents and publishers have to force themselves to be polite is during contract negotiations. I'm used to simply handling this stuff as business -- I don't get terribly emotional about it. There are notes to work through and discuss, so I go through them, point by point. If, for example, I think an author is getting treated unfairly by a publisher because of some contract clause, I'll say, "This doesn't work at all" or "No other publisher is asking for this." And it'll be the truth. But I've noticed, particularly in CBA, some editors get personally hurt over negotiations -- as though my criticizing something in their contract is an idictment of them personally. It's dumb...but it happens. So I have to remind myself to be extra-nice, even though to me this is just a business discussion, not a reflection on anyone's character.

Anyway, politeness still counts. The successful editors and agents and authors have, by and large, figured this out. So thanks for being nice to me. And for allowing me to rant about this stuff on occasion. I promise to write you a nice poem as my way of saying thanks.

Why we should return to the middle ages...

Okay, I'll admit it: I stole that title. Back in the 80's, when George Will was known as a neo-con, and was writing a popular column about American culture, the  folks at the National Lampoon put out a fake newspaper, complete with a fake George Will column about our deteriorating values. They used "Why We Should Return to the Middle Ages" as their title, though I'll admit the title was funnier than the actual column.

But I have my own reasons for being regressive. I HATE COMPUTERS. Well, maybe not all computers. (My son tells me that a computer actually helps my car run and my high-def TV look nice, so those are GOOD computers.) I just hate the fact that my life depends on THIS computer. The one I own, which I'm typing on, and which is no doubt reading these words and thinking of ways to take retribution.

The fact is, if we returned to the Middle Ages, we would be able to live with computers. What a lovely thought. I could much more easily deal with Mongol hordes or church persecution than waste my time arguing with a stupid PC. 

Here's the thing: A week ago, my stupid computer just stopped working. I mean, I was in here at ten o'clock one night, answering emails and pretending I have a life (shuddup).  I walk down to my office the next morning, and nothing works. Not email, not the internet, not my Word files. Nothing. So I spend the day running virus scans and tweaking varous "help" menus. The next day I think I have it all working, only to find out that (SURPRISE!) I don't. Dang. So have to unbuckle the stupid thing, drive it to the Geek squad, who clean it and...well, do whatever it is geeks do to computers. (Change the oil and filter? Check the air pressure?) Then they tell me it's fine, and bill me a hundred buck. No viruses, no crossed wires, all is well. I'm happy it's fine, so I give the boy a firm handshake, pay him his money, and race home.  Only to find out that it's still not working.

I call, and Geek-boy tells me something like, "It's your ABBY wireless utility prompt. Just go to your network hyper wizard, click on 'pentroit,' then find your wired digital media JASC. That should do it."

Um...do what? I have no idea what he's just said. So I jiggled the wires and looked sternly at it for a while. Then I called somebody else -- a guy who makes house calls. He shows up, frowns, and -- poof! The computer gods smiled. Suddenly everything works. I asked him what he'd done (using as much techno lingo as I could muster), and he looked at me and said, "Nothing. It works fine. I won't even charge you." Problem solved.

You've got to understand, I have one of those jobs where I LIVE on my computer. I mean, my job consists of sending emails, working on manuscripts & proposals, and inserting words and figures into small electronic squares. So without my computer for three days, I got NOTHING done. Zero. Zip. Zilch. Nada. It even lost my BLOG, fer cryin out loud (I had created a short post that was wonderful -- insightful, witty, emotional...you'd read it and want to go speak in tongues. Trust me. And all lost. Sigh...) 

So sorry for not writing. I'm up and running once again, trying to catch up to everything I missed.  Please don't tell me how I need to get a Mac (I've already been told). And within the next 24 hours, I'll actually have something to say about writing. Promise.

Chip