Monday

A call to arms...

An amazing thing is happening in the publishing world. Like many other terrorist regimes (no, I did not use the wrong word here, as you will see if you read on) it has finally begun to implode. Where once bookstore shelves were so crowded that new authors were relegated to the end of long lines and audaciously handed a pile of guidelines that read more like applications to the underworld, we now find...

Row after row of empty shelves.

If you don't believe me, I dare you to visit any bookstore of your choice and see for yourself. And let's look past the economy excuse. Please. It is the consumer that ultimately rules the economy, and they have finally spoken. Their verdict? "Not worth it." "Don't even bother." "And -- for heaven sake -- don't waste any money on it."

All death knells for any form of the arts. Yes, after two generations of eating garbage (both mentally and physically), diners have turned suspicious eyes toward the kitchen and decided to fire the cooks. Not because they are so moralistic or health-minded, either. It's simply because they are tired of feeling like crap. Which is what a steady diet of dead things (both mentally and physically) will do to you.

But don't worry. It is not the end of the world, yet. 

Only the regime. All those readers who are sick and tired of being scared to death, worried to death, and shocked to death, have simply got up and left the table. To go where? Hey -- this is not hoodoo voodoo, here -- everyone knows you cannot live without eating and thinking, and no one wants to revert to the Stone Age. No matter how much revived the planet would be if we did so. No, they are just off looking for a bromo. A little relief. Something to counter-act the nausea.

So, all of you good authors out there who have been bemoaning the fact that you cannot write the things you would really like to -- the things that make you feel good, or even just better -- NOW IS THE TIME. The doors are not only open, readers are wandering around outside looking for something like that. Anything. And for once, there are no waiting lines to get shelf space. 

This is the ultimate time and hour for you to give us your best shot, without any fear of what the terrorists (those who control through fear, dehumanization, and brutality) might think. Because if it is true that history repeats itself, booksellers might even be willing to go so far as to gamble at taking a chance on another book similar to the one they put a bet on , years ago. It was about some guy who was raised by apes but eventually came to the shocking but wonderful realization that he was not an animal. 

None of us are.

Which is why that single character not only worked out for them, but succeeded in pulling the whole industry through the Depression right along with them. Along with a very few others that you can probably count on one hand. Never mind that the author's facts about the particular country this character lived in were not "spot on." The readers voted. They not only reached into their pockets and paid the bills, they breathed the faith into that character that made him immortal. Yes, he's still on the shelves, even though so many others are not. Go ahead, check it out. And why is that? Because -- to this day -- he's still paying his way.  

Now, once again, the booksellers are in the same spot. And any moment, some poor, starving, battered reader is going to bravely approach the lord of the table and ask, "Please, sir, could I have some more?"

So... what will you do with your moment?


What's happening on the farm today: Triple digit heat, so, all the animals are waiting it out in patches of shade or under buildings. Even the babies have slowed down because it takes too much effort to play. Oh, yes -- and I have finally solved the snake problem in the goat barn. I simply knock and call out, "Housekeeping!" before I go inside. Haven't come face-to-face with one of them since.