#19
February 6, 2003
From: Scott Clawson, gateway@hcpok.com

Hi Kelly:

I read Strings as a result of an email sent (and posted) to Nadja. Wow!!!!!!! Thanks for the taste. I can see Solitaire is next on my list.

Great work and website. Isn't it nice to be "riding high on the crest of public approval".

Aren't we all imprisoned by a means of our own device?

Scott

I'm very fond of Strings, glad you liked it. I'm assuming since you found the post on Nadja's website, that you also followed the trail to C.A. Casey's article at Strange Horizons (but here it is again for people who may not know about it). I enjoyed the article thoroughly and was jazzed that Nadja actually read the story.

Riding high on the crest of public approval doesn't suck, for as long as it lasts. The trick is not to turn it into heroin, because one day the fix just won't be there. Public approval is ephemeral, and contextual. Solitaire got a very strong response for a first SF novel, but that same response might be considered mediocre for a mainstream novel with same caliber of advance quotes and the same amount of pre-publication buzz. And if the critical approval doesn't translate into sales, well....publishing is a business, and they don't pay royalties on good reviews.

I don't know how much you know (or care) about the business of publishing, but what I'm waiting for now are the sell-through figures. I know how many books were printed, ordered and shipped to booksellers. If stores are going to return large quantities of the book (because they think they will never sell them, or they're tight on inventory space, or they have policies about turning inventory on a regular schedule), they will generally do so within about 6 months—in my case, by the end of February. It's nice when stores order lots of books, and bad when they return lots. At the end of all this, HarperCollins will look at the percentage of books that "sold through" (shipments minus returns) and use this to roll their numbers and determine whether the book has been a financial success for them.

At the same time, bookstores will have noted the individual store sell-through. When my next book is published, they'll go back to these records as a guide. The worst place a writer can find herself is on the downward spiral of "well, we ordered way too many last time, let's cut that order in half this time" (as opposed to, "wow, her last book did well for us, let's bring in a few more this time"). It's better in some ways to sell 90% of 100 books than 50% of 180 books.

In the meantime, I am not ungrateful! I'm delighted with the response. Happy writer. I like being approved of. And even though Solitaire certainly hasn't been universally praised, the criticism has almost always been intelligent and interesting. And really, the best part is the growing interaction I have with readers through this site. I even find myself answering Virtual Pint questions when I should be working on my new book (grin).

Sure, we're all prisoners of our own device (the Eagles said so, it must be true). That's what fear is. Solitaire was written on some level for anyone who's experienced the liberation of kicking down one of her own particular walls.

#18
January 30, 2003
From: John Young, vistasjy@adelphia.net

It seems strange that my first contact with the world of authors' sites would be after reading only two chapters of a writer's book (and nothing of her stories), but that is a sincere tribute to the person, the book, and the site. I'm looking forward very much to cozy nights in the pub exploring the worlds of Kelley Eskridge and Nicola.

I hope the virtual pub is comfortable and properly provisioned. I'm finding it pretty cozy myself, really enjoying it. And, of course, I hope you enjoy the book as well, and would look forward to any comments you might wish to share.

I'm curious about what brought you here after only two chapters. Please note, this isn't a veiled request for lots of ego strokes about marvelous writing or whatever, but rather a question about the psychology around the access made possible by the web and an individual website. Did something in the book make you curious about me specifically? Do you generally go out and look for more information about artists whose work interests you? What are your criteria for sticking with a site like this? This is an open question for anyone, really. Those of you who have read through the material on this site know that I'm interested in notions of access and connection. I know what kind I'm willing to grant—less than some, more than others—and I know what kind I hope for from people whose work I admire. But that's just me. I'm guessing that mileage varies wildly in this regard. If anyone wants to talk about this, I would find it interesting and instructive.

Your comment also got me imagining my dream pub. A neighborhood place, a little shabby from the outside with an entrance off the main road, so that the regulars can feel safe and just that bit smug about our good fortune. There would always a table free for me and mine, of course (grin). A main room with just enough bustle that never got too far on the wrong side of noise and crowd. A snug with soft leather armchairs and a lovely fireplace. Oranjeboom, Redhook, Fullers ESB and proper Dublin Guinness on draft. Decent champagne and brandy. A couple of startling and dramatic wines. A bartender who is a renaissance person with an extensive lending library and a genuine talent for making people feel welcome. Giant hamburgers with homemade buns and sautéed onions, and special handed-down-for-generations mayonnaise-based secret sauces. Fried zucchini and fried okra. Haddock and the best chips in the universe. Hummus with enough lemon, served with hot Greek pita. Vegetarian chili and cole slaw layered in pita bread (trust me). Sandwiches from the Boat Street Café here in Seattle (artichoke-heart-salad, or pate and cornichons, or poached chicken with roasted red peppers, all on crusty baguettes) and The Other Coast Café (amazing deli concoctions, also in Seattle, lucky us). Good music. Indirect lighting. A room at the back with pool tables for Nicola.

My local isn't Kelley's Dream Pub, but it's a great place. Good philly cheese steak sandwiches and imperial pints of Bass. A fireplace. My kind of music. They like us and take great care of us, although there's that tricky matter of not having my favorite table always waiting whenever I want it.... However, I've learned that one advantage of being a writer is the ability to visit the pub in off-hours and have the run of the place. We met a good friend there recently and parked ourselves in front of the fireplace for an entire weekday afternoon; Nicola took Official Virtual Pint Photos; and we all found that lovely drinking pace that maintains rousing good spirits without veering into conversational stupidity. A grand day. I'll take as many of those as I can get.