"Dating Advice From Aristotle" In Mental Floss

On newsstands now: Mental Floss has a two-page excerpt from my book, Great Philosophers Who Failed at Love, titled "Dating Advice From Aristotle." Just in time for Valentine's Day!

Lisbeth Salamander

Everyone's favorite amphibian with the dragon tattoo!

(via CurlingFarFar)

The New York Times Gives Shit Advice Sometimes

I get it, I get it -- you don't want to read the novel I'm working on. You don't have to rub it in, though, New York Times. Jerk.

Your Career's Not Over Until You Say It's Over

Holly Robinson, author of the amusingly titled memoir, The Gerbil Farmer's Daughter, writes in the Huffington Post about her experience publishing the book with Random House:

I didn't get a huge advance, but a reasonable one. Apparently, though, the publishing house paid me too much. I still haven't earned back a penny on that advance, despite selling more books than I ever dreamed possible. That was okay, though. I figured I could build my platform from there and do better with the next book.

However, Random House wasn't interested in her second book, a novel. Her agent shopped it to other publishers, who all turned it down. "These days, if your first book doesn't earn out, that's probably the end of your career," Robinson writes. She decided to self-publish her novel. I'm not sure who told her that her career was over after her first book failed to "earn out" its advance. Random House? Her agent? Other writers? The idea that a writer's career is "over" after a single unprofitable book is far-fetched, and I would caution writers against accepting such proclamations as gospel.

There are many reasons a publisher may not pick up a second book after their first book doesn't earn back the writer's advance. In Robinson's case, for instance, the troubles she ran into may have had less to do with her first book's performance and more to do with the fact she's jumping from one genre to another. The markets for memoirs and novels are very different, and what worked in one genre might not work in another. Readers may not follow a writer from one genre to another. It's almost like starting again from square one. The "platform" that Robinson talks about building must be rebuilt, to a degree. If Robinson's second book had been another memoir or work of nonfiction, would publishers have shown more interest?

Every writer's career takes twists and turns, but no two take the exact same path. I signed a contract for my second book (due out spring 2013 from Harper Perennial) before my first earned out; I personally know several writers who have signed contracts for second (and third) books before their first has even hit the shelves. Even if one reason Robinson couldn't find a publisher for her second book was that she didn't earn out the advance on her memoir, it doesn't prove that her experience is universally true for all writers.

I'm glad Robinson didn't accept defeat and has continued writing. The only time when your career is truly "over" is when you are sleeping in a pine box six feet underground. Even then, your career doesn't have to end: Look at the continued success of Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, et al., hundreds of years past their own exit from the land of the living.

What Is the Point of Writing a Book If You Have No Online Presence?

In a post titled, "What Is the Point of Writing a Book If You Have No Online Presence?", someone (or something) called "Bubble Cow" writes:

Let’s face it, [these days] writers need a strong online presence. In a world where self-publishing is a realistic option, and big publishers are telling us that having an online presence is essential to getting a book deal, writers are left with little option but to embrace technology and start building. 

If you're comfortable with social media and the Internet, it certainly can't hurt. But don't think it's necessary. If you've written the next To Kill a Mockingbird, no publisher is going to reject your manuscript because you aren't on Twitter or don't have a website. Such thinking is absurd. If you go the "traditional publishing" route, your publisher will almost certainly create a page for you on their own website. Such a presence is sufficient for many authors. (For example, type in JonathanFranzen.com, and you'll be redirected to http://us.macmillan.com/author/jonathanfranzen.) Sure, you may leave yourself open to parody as an aging dinosaur in a world of mammals. But you need to be true to yourself, and not to what you think publishers (or the public) expect.

As for the question, "What is the point of writing a book if you have no online presence?", the answer should be obvious: The point of writing a book is the same as it's always been. Authors wrote books for hundreds of years before the Internet was invented, and they will continue to. Writing is like robbing a bank: Some do it for the money. Some do it for the thrill. And some do it because they can't do anything else.

(via BubbleCow.net)

Martha Stewart, Nicholas Sparks, and Koalas With Chlamydia

Welcome to my 2011 Year In Review special edition blog post!

Things started on a high note last January, when Harper Perennial released my debut, Great Philosophers Who Failed at Love, as a paperback and e-book. The New York Times Book Review called it "cheeky," while Martha Stewart's Whole Living recommended it as the perfect Valentine's Day gift book. Meanwhile, Amazon reviewers called it "funny but shallow," which perhaps sums up my personality.

After my east coast book tour wrapped up in February, I sat down to work on my second nonfiction book, tentatively titled Literary Rock Stars: A History of Wayward Writers (due out spring 2013 from Harper Perennial). It's shaping up to be a fun, but cautionary, look at the lives of writers who went overboard with alcohol, drugs, sex, and self-destructive behaviors.

In May, I started a Twitter hashtag called "SparksFacts," including such gems as "Nicholas Sparks once delivered a woman's baby during a reading, then signed the baby." Sparks replied, saying that many of the facts, while not true, were "quite funny."

During the spring and summer, I took time off from my manuscript to attend BookExpo America, the RT Booklovers Convention in L.A., and the Romance Writers of America annual meeting in New York. I had so much fun, in fact, that I'll be hitting the same conventions in 2012! If you're there, flag me down and we can grab coffee.

In June, Neil Gaiman smacked me down on Twitter after I asked him to assist me in my attempt to educate koalas, who are dying in epidemic numbers due to chlamydia, in safe-sex practices. "You do realize the chlamydia they're dying of is a form of pneumonia and not an STD, right?" he said. I hid from Twitter in shame of my ignorance.

In November, I once again attempted to write a novel in 30 days during National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). My book, a werewolf romance called "The Very Hairy Sheriff," stalled out about halfway through at 30,000 words. It was total garbage, and went straight into my Macbook's trash bin. My hats are off to the novelists out there who have the patience to see their books through to the end. Writing a novel is still on my bucket list, but I think I'll stick with nonfiction for now.

And, lastly, if you have a copy of Great Philosophers Who Failed at Love on your bookshelf, please kindly cross that line out of the bio that says that I live with my wife in Iowa, as that's now outdated. We divorced last year; my ex-wife kept the house and the dog, while I moved to Kentucky. It sounds like a country and western song, doesn't it?

How was your 2011? Any significant life changes I should know about?

-------------

Andrew Shaffer

Twitter: @evilwylie / @andrewtshaffer

NYTimes: Authors Who Don't Tweet "Vulnerable To Parody"

Anne Trubek wrote an essay for the New York Times this week about "Why Authors Tweet."  The story is worth a read, and I'm not just saying that because Trubek namechecks my alter-ego, Emperor Franzen. She begins with the image of authors as aloof, distant presences:

Since the 19th century, the common conception of “the author” has gone something like this: A young man, in his garret, writes furiously, crumpling up papers and throwing them on the floor, losing track of time, heedless of the public, obsessed with his own imagination. He is aloof, elusive, a man whom you know only by his writing and the portrait in his book. Writers themselves have sustained this myth, asking readers to keep their distance from authors, who should remain enigmatic. [But] with the digital age come new conceptions of authorship.

Emperor Franzen in his enigmatic cloakWriters are using Twitter, Facebook, and other digital tools to connect directly with readers. However, some authors, such as Jeffrey Eugenides and Jonathan Franzen, eschew social media interaction and cling to the centuries-old image of the hermetic author. "Their personae [...] are vulnerable to lampooning on false and parody accounts, like ­@EmperorFranzen, that commandeer an author’s voice," Trubek writes.

Read the essay at the New York Times website!

A New Holiday Classic: "F*ck! (Christmas Is Just One Week Away)" (VIDEO)

I tweeted yesterday that if I wrote a holiday song right now, it would be called "Fuck! (Christmas Is Just One Week Away)." And the venerable Neil Shurley read this as a challenge, and actually wrote the song. Which is hilarious: (by Neil Shurley, @thatneilguy on Twitter)

Why Barnes and Noble Is Doomed, In One Screenshot

UPDATE: 2pm ET 12/14/11: After taking their search functionality down for an hour or two this afternoon, Barnes and Noble released a tweaked algorithm that now provides more relevant results – at least for the search term "Lincoln."

The other day, my mother told me that she was looking for a new book on Abraham Lincoln, though she couldn't remember the title, the author, or even the subject. But she'd heard about it on television and had a vague idea that it was a current bestseller. So she visited BarnesandNoble.com and typed in "Lincoln." This is what she got as the first result:

In contrast, here's what she found when typing in "Lincoln" at Amazon.com:

The book she was looking for was, of course, Bill O'Reilly's Killing Lincoln, a current New York Times bestseller. Guess which website she ended up ordering from?

If she had walked into a Barnes and Noble, or into any independent bookstore, the salesperson could have directed her to O'Reilly's book in thirty seconds. I've been a longtime supporter of Barnes and Noble -- they were the only bookstore in the city I grew up in, so they were all I knew for a long time -- but they've had fifteen years to play catch-up to Amazon in the cashgrab for customer money online. This just illustrates how little Barnes and Noble understands online customer behavior. 

Anthony Bourdain's Disturbing Krampus Christmas Tale (VIDEO)

The Travel Channel cut this from his show, No Reservations. Was it the licking demon or the dismembered body-parts that made them squeamish?

(via Gawker)