#1 New York Times Bestselling Author & TV Producer
A bunch of my friends have new and out-of-print books that have just been released on the Kindle.
Bill Crider's classic westerns RYAN RIDES BACK and MEDICINE SHOW are out and cheap, too.
Doug Lyle has brought back his Samantha Cody books, including DEVIL'S PLAYGROUND.
And James Reasoner, Bill Crider, and Mel Odom have teamed up under the pen name "Colby Jackson" on RANCHO DIABLO, an original series of westerns, that kicks off with SHOOTER'S CROSS.
Check'em out!
Tonight, the Mystery Bookstore had their farewell party. It was a bittersweet event. It was great to see so many mystery writers and fans in one room…but sad to see a legendary, independent bookstore close down.
The owners and employees, in their good-byes, observed that they've never met a nicer, more supportive group of people than mystery writers and what a pleasure it was just having the chance to get to know them all.
They're right. As I was looking at all those faces, and talking to all those writers, I was struck by what an incredibly friendly, warm, and out-going group they are…and how much I like them.
Unlike TV, where there is a real class system…you don't see showrunners hanging out with staff writers and treating them as equals… that isn't the case at all among mystery novelists. Everyone mixes together. The superstars like Michael Connelly and Robert Crais are as friendly, approachable, and supportive as the least-known mid-list writer. They don't just hang out with other writers in the bestseller list. Everyone treats one another with mutual respect. Sure, there are a few in the biz who don't, but those are the exceptions.
The Mystery Bookstore was like our home, the place where all of us could get together several times a year, like a family gathering for the holidays, and talk shop and catch up with one another. Losing the store is like losing our home. I wonder now how often we'll all get together under one roof now that we've lost the store…my fear is that it will be hardly ever.
The loss of independent bookstores, which are really so much more than just places that sell books, is one of the real, and painful, downsides of the success of the Kindle.
(Pictured: Lee Goldberg, Dick Lochte, Thomas Perry)
This was, far and away, my best month ever for sales of my out-of-print backlist on the Kindle.
I sold 3075 books and earned $6624.40 in royalties. My biggest seller was THE WALK, which sold 1083 copies and earned $2230.98.
I also did nicely on Createspace with the trade paperback editions of my books, earning $483.94 but not-so-well on the Nook, earning just $211.46 (though I am told B&N was having accounting problems this month and may be adjusting those numbers upwards, as they did in December).
The grand total in royalties for January, not including Smashwords (Apple, Diesel, Kobo, Sony) or Amazon UK sales, is $7319.80.
By comparison, in January 2010, I sold 536 copies and earned $775 in royalties.
Unbelievable.
(My poorest selling books are the four JURY titles, formerly known as the .357 VIGILANTE series. I blame that, in part, on the negative reviews they've received due to sloppy proofreading. No matter how many times I've gone through the books, errors still seem to slip past me. So the books are now in the hands of a professional copyeditor…when she gets them back to me I will relaunch the books, give way free copies for fresh reviews, and update the product descriptions).
Two rave reviews for MR. MONK ON THE ROAD just came my way, both from long-time fans of the books. Debra Hamel at Bookblog says, in part:
Goldberg’s books aren’t only about the crimes. More important are the series’s wonderful characters. The development of Monk and Natalie’s relationship over the series makes for many sweet moments, but in this outing the focus is on Ambrose’s interaction with Monk and Natalie and with the world at large. As usual in the series, there is some very funny dialogue. Usually this is centered on Monk’s abhorrence of all things unsanitary, but Ambrose’s social ineptitude also makes for some funny lines. I really enjoyed this one and the series as a whole, and I’m hoping the books never stop coming.
Ed Gorman liked it for a lot of the same reasons. He says, in part:
Lee Goldberg has cast the new and extremely enjoyable Monk book as a picaresque adventure.[…]I’ve given up trying to rank the Monk books. I’ve read them all and think they each have different pleasures to offer, which is a tribute to Lee’s savvy as a writer. But I have to say that putting both the Monks in a RV with Natalie-take-no-crap-Teeger has got to be the funniest premise yet. A truly hilarious read with a surprise shout-out to the movie “Duel” coming out of nowhere. Among many other surprises.
Thank you Ed and Debra for the great reviews and the continued support!
I want to share with you a Kafka-esque conversation I had today with a representative at Wells Fargo Bank.
But first, some background.
Back in December, my accountant pointed out that I'm apparently paying twice, through automatic withdrawals, for online banking each month. One payment is for $14.95 and is clearly listed as a Wells Fargo online banking fee…the other fee for $15.95 and is listed as an "Online Bill Payment Services Fee."
I called the bank and questioned them about the charges. They said that the ""Online Bill Payment Services Fee" wasn't from them. When they called the number associated with the account, they got "middle eastern music." So I had them put a stop payment on the withdrawal, effective immediately. They did that, said they would investigate the matter, and told me to call back in a couple of weeks for more details on who was taking my money.
So that's what I did. But when I called back, with my claim number and everything, the agent had no idea what I was calling about. I gave him the back story.
"Some entity calling itself 'Online Bill Payment Services" has been withdrawing fifteen dollars a month from my account," I said.
"That is correct. We have stopped that transaction. It won't happen again."
"That's great. Who are they?"
"A bank," he said.
"Your bank?" I asked.
"Another bank."
"Which bank?"
"I can't tell you that information," he said.
"Why not?"
"I can't answer that question," he said.
"Why not?"
"Because that's not my department," he said. "You will need to speak to another department."
"The department that answers questions?"
"I don't appreciate the tone of your voice," he said. "I will send the department a request. They will get back to you in three days. Or maybe more."
"With the name of the bank," I said.
"They might," he said. "Or they might not. They may not know, either."
I took a deep breath. "Okay. Is there anything stopping this other bank from just withdrawing a different amount of money from my account next month? Say, $15.97 or $1500?"
"No, there isn't"
"Can't you put a stop to any automatic withdrawals from my account from that other bank?"
"No, because it's not the bank that is withdrawing the money, but rather a person or business who has an account with them."
"Okay, now we're getting somewhere," I said. "Can you tell me the person or business that is that is taking my money?"
"No," he said.
"So how do I stop this person or business from making withdrawals from my account?
"You have to call Wells Fargo customer service and ask them to put a stop payment on all withdrawals from the person or business."
"But you won't tell me the name of the bank or the person or the business that is taking my money!"
"That is correct," he said. "You don't have to yell."
"I am closing my account," I said.
"It would be easier to put a stop payment on the person or business that is withdrawing your money."
"BUT YOU WON'T TELL ME WHO THEY ARE!"
"That is correct. Can I be of any more service to you today?"
UPDATE 1/25/2011: After that infuriating call, I took a "time out" and called Wells Fargo again. I spoke to a different representative, who was only slightly more helpful.
She was pleased to tell me they were reversing $47 in charges paid to whoever was taking my money. That's only a fraction of what I've lost, but okay, it's a step forward.
She went on to say that the withdrawal is coming from New York Clearing House on behalf of Mid-Peninsula Bank (which a quick web searched revealed was taken over by Wells Fargo in 2007).
She said that, short of me closing down my account, there was nothing they could do to help me prevent future unauthorized withdrawals from Mid-Peninsula Bank. Nor were they willing to help me figure out who at Mid-Peninsula Bank was withdrawing my money, nor were they willing to give me any information I could take to law enforcement to try to figure out who was taking my money.
So I closed my checking account and opened a new one. But because all of our other accounts are at Wells Fargo, and I didn't want the hassle of starting anew at another bank, I ended up staying there.
I went down to my local branch and had a new checking account in about ten minutes. Even so, I am not happy customer.
My brother Tod did an interview with the Association of Writers and Writing Projects blog about his approach to running the low residency MFA program in Creative Writing & Writing for the Performing Arts at the University of California, Riverside. This brief excerpt pretty much says it all:
Caleb J Ross: You said something at last year’s AWP which stuck with me. Paraphrased, of course, you said that you teach your MFA classes like an instructor of any trade program might, with the end goal of providing financial opportunities for the students. This seems like a radically different approach than most MFAs which may instead focus on non-definable, creative signposts to gauge student success. First, am I expressing your idea correctly? Second, how is this goal compromised by a low-residency program, if it even is?
Tod Goldberg: Pretty close. Essentially my philosophy is that if you’re in an MFA program, your goal isn’t to become the most well-read person on earth with a handful of literary quotes at your disposal at all times, it’s to be published. It’s to be produced. Graduate programs in creative writing are some of the few that seem entirely esoteric because they don’t seem to be training you for anything tangible, apart from maybe being a particularly enlightened barista, because, well, that’s frequently the case. But I think that has to change. Being a professional writer is a job. And if you want to write books, or write screenplays, or write poetry, simply for personal edification, you certainly don’t need an MFA program to do that. But if you want to become a professional writer, I think an MFA program can and should be a clear stepping stone in that direction. Most aren’t. Most entirely eschew the idea of life after the MFA — in fact, most programs tend to herald your acceptance into the program as the “making it” part of your writing career, which is silly. It’s school. It’s what you do afterward that makes a difference…
This is a dramatization of an actual event.