Michael Moorcock’s Genius & NaNoWriMo

Michael Moorcock is a genius, and several years ago I came across an amazing article in which he outlined how to complete a novel in three days.

I shit you not.

Since this is NaNoWriMo (for the non-author folks, National Novel Writers Month) I am sharing, as I do occasionally, a link to a condensed version of the article.

Moorcock is not just prolific—his books are actually really wonderful. If you have not delved into the Elric of Melniboné books, what is wrong with you?

In any event… go read the article. It’s not JUST for those who want to blow through a book. The tips and formula are very pluginable for all genres and deadlines.

One day I really AM going to do a retreat weekend using this as a guide.

Here:  http://www.ghostwoods.com/2010/05/how-to-write-a-book-in-three-days-1210/

Happy Places – Writing the Funny is FUN

Tonight I pulled in the driveway and sat outside with the interior light on jotting things into my notebook. I taught my Writing the Funny workshop tonight, and the second week proved even better than the first. So many ideas come roaring to life during classes and after-class discussions, I can’t get home fast enough (and it’s just a 5 minute drive) to get them down on paper. My group is just fantastic, and I’m having a blast.

Lou, the fearless leader of our program, came down the hall to my classroom at the end of the night to announce we’d been wonderfully disruptive. Everyone in the building could hear the shouts, laughter, and even spontaneous applause. He grinned at me and said “you must be doing something right.” To be honest, I know I can make people laugh, but a lot of the credit goes to my group. (I hesitate to call them students—they’re fellow warriors in the quest for the gut-buster.) Being around great people is such a gift, I almost feel guilty taking money for this job… almost. I will hate to end this session, and it will end far too soon.

Revision Hell, Delays, and Final Successes

For over a year I have been announcing, postponing, and struggling with the release of the first novel written under my own name. If readers have been frustrated, I apologize from the bottom of my heart. You have no idea how frustrating it has been for ME. But I’m really happy to FINALLY announce that it will be available in both print and ebook in time for Christmas.

The book was written over a year and a half ago, and nearly went live a year ago. The first delay was due to a serious illness striking the wonderful woman I had hired to do my editing and formatting. The second was due to my own health concerns, and then it all went to hell in a handbasket. CRY UNCLE is book 1 in a series that has a minimum of 3, but will most likely keep going as long as I’m still breathing to write it.  My protagonist, Maggie Gallagher, is a special agent for the FBI who returns home to solve a murder mystery she’s been obsessed with since childhood. It’s a very dark story with very light—or, at least, heavily humorous—elements. Unfortunately the first book sets up those to follow,  and changes in the Catholic church in my area—where the book is set—made a very careful re-write absolutely vital to avoid problems in future books. Maggie has a brother who is a priest, and the third book involves a mystery with Father Jordan, so my church facts had to line up.

The changes made in the past few years by the Boston Archdiocese actually gave me BETTER plot movement. The re-writes actually helped me, having been away from the manuscript for a long time, notice other issues that I wanted to tweak. CRY UNCLE (and the books to come) has a strong first person perspective that breaks the fourth wall, and I think this requires a delicate hand. Done well, it builds intimacy between narrator and reader. Done poorly, it strips away the willing suspension of disbelief, becomes campy, and leaves the book in rubble.

So, with apologies to those of you who have been SO KIND to email me, show support and interest, and give me your patience, we’re getting our baby! A much better book is coming your way, just in time for the holidays.

Thank you so much for bearing with me.

Where My Plots Thicken

The first time I came across the term “plot book,” I was reading the afterward, or “author’s note” at the end of a romance. I want to say it was by Jude Devereaux, but I could just be cramming her name into the memory because she was my first “favorite romance author.” My memory does ascribe this to her.

What I know, for a fact, is that I had a literal AHA moment, shouting out with glee to discover another human being was scribbling ideas for stories, novels, poems, or anything else down on the pages of a journal for future use. I’d been convinced something was terribly wrong with me. I’d been keeping journals that didn’t count as “diaries” for years—since grade school, in fact—but never wasted these precious pages on my day to day experiences. Why bother? I’d already had them. No, I would purchase empty journals in bulk at discount stores, keep them handy, and jot down phrases that might be song lyrics, ideas for stories, even character sketches.  I have stacks of them. I never throw them away. Somewhere in England, unless it became kindling, is a leather-bound collection of notes on castles, with diagrams and frantic margin-notes outlining the use and name for different sections: inner and outer bailey, donjon, barbican, and battlements. I left it behind out of dire necessity and still wonder about it like a long lost kitten.

Oh, like you’re not weird. Shut up.

In recent years I have been delighted to find a lot of writers keep plot books and similar. My writing group even has “plot swaps,” where we throw our unused plots into a pot and bargain for them.  If you’ve never done it, you really must.

What’s interesting, at least to me, is that the projects I have been finishing and publishing are out of old plot books.  Whether my current, active journals will yield as much in future years, I can’t say. What I know for a fact? I will never be without one. If nothing else, they provide a place to empty the chatter and fizz in my over-active imagination.

Oooh—that gives me an idea…

Support Should Be Supportive

It’s been a while since I got a weepy or shrill email or private message from a person complaining about former stomping grounds. But I did wake up to one this morning. The blissful silence I’d come to enjoy on this front was disrupted, and I have to say, it made me grateful, once again, to be well out of the minefield of “support” groups.

TIP:  support groups should be supportive.

Believe me when I say that I am a survivor. I even still belong to groups, though they have dwindled to a very small few with specific focus.  Two social groups, four or five charities, one writing support group that has very little online presence and absolutely no online participation outside of an email loop that is strictly dedicated to WRITING. Chit chat is welcome at the bi-monthly meetings during the nibbles and potable hour.

If you belong to a group that is supposed to support you, find that attending meetings or visiting the web forum, or reading the emails is leaving you sad, miserable, doubting your talent, angry—pick one—you need to get out.

NOW.

Support groups may make you feel concerned for your project. They may make you re-think your behavior. They may challenge and even upset you, but these feelings should be occasional rather than constant. You should have a residual sense of a slight pain that is healing, not of a deep wound that won’t. And if you are feeling either marginalized or depressed often, you are not getting support. Support can sting now and then, but not all the time.  Support lifts you up, even the tough kind.

This doesn’t mean your group is populated with demons and evil doers. It doesn’t mean your mom was right and everyone is jealous of you. It means you’ve either outgrown this collection of individuals and their methods, or were never a good fit to start with.

Wish everyone well, keep in touch with those who were helpful, and GET THE HELL OUT. Anything that is taking time away from your efforts, does not promote or encourage them, and weighs them down in negatives without any positive solutions, is poison.

YOU Are No George Martin… Neither Am I

His novels are plagued with rambling, endless, page-upon-page exposition. He tells. He rarely shows. He uses imagery so heavily it weighs on the brain like iron. He has characters with identical or incredibly similar names, often within the same family. He jumps from character to character between chapters, and often fails to link the transitions.  He beats foreshadowing themes to death with an anvil-weighted fist.

Every once in a blue moon we get a George: a brilliant, unique, and enthralling writer who has the chops to take a big ole dump on the rules and wipe his backside with pages torn out of Shrunk and White.

He’s a freaking genius.

You aren’t him. Neither am I. But I’m finding a lot of fledgling fantasy authors, and even some NY pimped know-better-level authors, emulating his style to their—and the genre’s—great detriment. Every once in a blue moon we get a George: a brilliant, unique, and enthralling writer who has the chops to take a big ole dump on the rules and wipe his backside with pages torn out of Shrunk and White. These are rare exceptions, and almost always result in very poor imitations.

Nora head-hops. Nora is Nora… LA Nora, by gawd. You aren’t Nora. I’m not Nora. I’m not George. I’m not Jo Rowling, either.

I suppose those who ape their betters make room in the sales rankings for those too smart to fall into the trap, but it does break my heart to pick up title after title, read two or three pages, and quit.  Ah. Yes. Somebody trying to be the next…

Just be the current you.  If you’re a genius you won’t be breaking the same rules, anyway. The mad genius is too caught up in his or her own fever to wonder if they sound like someone else.

/rant

AmWriting… ish?

We all do it. I do it. You do it. Stop pretending you don’t do it. In stead… think about maybe doing it less.

I’m talking about goofing off.  I tend to decompress and chill out by goofing. I DO multi-task, but most of the time if I’m dorking around on facebook or twitter I’m unwinding, waiting for my groove to kick in, or wasting time in between appointments on the road. You can do an amazing amount of dorking in waiting rooms.

What I have managed to do since last spring is write more and dork less.  Even the last six months—during which I was buried in more care-taking than ever before in my life, and hopefully will not see the like ever again—I did more writing and less dorking. I’m not perfect, and I still waste time. But the amount of time I’m wasting has seriously diminished and the amount of work I’m finishing has quadrupled.

Today a good friend complained to me about a forum and, in the same email, complained she was getting nothing done. The same friend has never missed her regional RWA conference. Never. She belongs to about five online forums for writers. She is a really cool gal. I told her straight up to check this blog in half an hour to see me make fun of her.

I’m talking to YOU, Maria. You have three fantastic novellas sitting on your hard-drive. PUBLISH THEM. Then go back to hammering queries for the novel. You’re a good writer. You’re just a very-very-very part time writer.

Less dorking. More writing. Love you.

It Must Be Nice (for writers everywhere)

It Must Be Nice
Though not precisely fraught with strife,
there are plenty of barbs in a writer's life.
Late night edits, rewrites, too—
rejection letters (just a few).
Friends who try, but never quite get
the reason we are so beset
with doubt, angst, frustration, fear,
and on occasion, angry tears.
"It must be nice to work from home;
and just relax, no need to roam.
It must be nice to sit and type.
I have a REAL job— not to snipe."
It must be—in that fantasy
you've dreamed up as your view of me.
Please, call or drop by— just feel free
to interrupt what you can't see.
Those pages? Those are sheets of pain
torn from my tired, laboring brain.
And if I run, and if I hide
in some cafe for peace to write?
"It must be nice to have the time
to sit and sip and and blow a dime."

But it IS nice. Sometimes that's true.
Sometimes there's joy in what I do.
I labor, weep, self-flagellate
despise the work, languish in hate
for every word that isn't right,
for every miserable sleepless night.
Then something clicks. The words, the pace,
the tumblers grumble into place.
Then SHE said this; then HE said that;
then their eyes met, and... and... then... DRAT!
No! Wait! I've got it! Then, she fell
and THIS— YES! There! That works quite well!
That stupid grin you spy me flash
as you drive by my cafe-crash
and spot me sporting in my seat?
It's not a facebook fun-time treat.
That joy, that rise, that breaking through
is what the suffering we do
is all about— this sweet, wild drug
of inspiration's endless tug,
becoming THIS NEW THING WE MADE—
becoming something we won't trade
for better hours, and understanding,
and tolerance, and hopes of landing
that next account, or that next raise,
and being given endless praise.

Am I rich now? You ask and smirk,
it's not as if I really WORK.
Don't writers make a million? More?
Can I have a copy? Three or four?
Signed? I'll share with all my friends
this labor of your endless ends.
You must be so proud of what you did—
hey, since you're home, my dog, my kid,
my ass-or-elbow for the night—
could you be so good, while you write?
Oh, I don't read much. Not my thing.
But since you're the new Steven King
and won't be busy, just with writing,
(and all the movie offers biting),
I'll drop off junior, you don't mind,
With all that writey-time you find.
Eight dollars? Wow, that seems a lot
for just one BOOK, I hope you got
a big advance like JK Rowling.
Oh, we just can not stop extolling
how clever you are! How worth that price!
The writer's life... it must be nice.
                          ©Chrissy Olinger

Waffling

Lately I have been waffling a lot. Like… if they had an Olympic Wafflers Team I’d captain that sucker. But it isn’t so much my own indecision as a fear of jumping guns, missing opportunities, or misreading a market that is changing so fast you’ll be left in the dust if you take a single day off. Seriously, skip one day of Publisher’s Weekly updates on twitter and you’re an antiquated, clueless boob.

Not long ago local book stores may have invited me to do signings or readings. As of this month, Books A Million and Barnes and Noble want nothing to do with me and my dirty Create Space cooties. Smaller indie stores are spinning in chaos, trying to make their way to the eye of the hurricane to survive at all. Many reviewers have become blatantly hostile toward independently published works. With My Boyfriend’s Back and the titles I have out under my sooper-seekrit pen name, I have dodged a lot of bombs. My Amazon reviews are consistently 4 or higher, averaging 4.3 for MBF and 4.5 or there-abouts for my other titles. All of those reviews were unsolicited. I did well elsewhere too-- some with bloggers, others on goodreads or similar sites. I made a conscious decision not to submit or query, but I may change that with Cry Uncle.

I’ve even re-delayed release while I figure it out. And do I go SELECT, or not? Do I thumb my nose at BN? I’ve never been able to figure out sales or actual rankings on their site. Amazon seems to be my ground zero, but there are readers who won’t download a Kindle app, and the soft cover won’t be cheap to produce. Do I price it fairly, or underprice it to drive traffic to an ebook that gets me more money per download? If so, can I afford to ignore Smashwords and BN? And if I go THAT way, how do I…

*sigh*

I don’t know. It seems like publishing is in a free fall. I’m loving how fast it’s changing as much as I’m wigging out with dizzy disorientation. It’s a wild ride, and I LIKE that it’s wild. I’ve always been a roller-coaster gal. I’ve never been one to spin sedately on a merry-go-round. But at some point we have to hit bottom, and the details do matter. Parachute or big, fluffy pillow? Bungee bounce or big, wet splash? The rules keep changing, and it’s not wise to be in mid-air while they sort themselves, no matter how exhilarating the fall may be.

Can I at least get some whipped cream on my waffles?

Crashed… Lyrics from a Song Within a Story

I’m working tonight on a short story written a few years ago that I would like to put out sometime in the next year as a free read.  The other stuff was making my brain mushy.

In the story, a woman uses songs she sings in a little pub to bare her heart to her husband.  I was looking through old lyric notebooks from the days when I wrote and sang with friends (loooong ago).  Then I thought about that adorable line Ahmed gave a friend, who asked him “when did you fall for her?”  He answered “I didn’t fall, I crashed.”  It has always stayed with me.  I’ve stolen it for the following song.

Crashed

Frame the question in your heart:
was it worth the sacrifice?
Second chances, second starts...
Second leases on a life.
If I had the chance to change
or to start it all anew
take a second shot-- it's strange,
but I'd run right back to you.
It's been rough and it's been tangled
but the twists have made a shape
that, while bruised, and torn, and strangled
it's an ache I can't escape.
Light casts shadows on the pain,
but the curves rise from the lows
and time lifts most of the stains
and time softens all the blows.
It's been coming-- we both knew
there's a choice we'll have to make
twisted, tiny, but it grew--
beat the odds-- found roots to take.
Sad and fragile-- weak and pale,
but it's yearning for the light
and the light may dim and fail
but there's hope where there's a fight.
Would you stay, and fight with me?
Will you give this thing a chance?
Will you look for light with me
in this tumbling, crazy dance?
Out of chaos comes-- I don't know
something worth the fear and pain.
And if we can't try now I don't know--
if I can ever try again.
Let it live. Let it breathe.
Let it struggle toward the sun.
Take my hand. Just don't leave.
Fight that tremor. Stay. Don't run.
We're a tide. Ebbing, flowing...
sometimes high and sometimes low.
And I know my fear is showing,
that I'm so scared you're gonna go.
Like the waves upon the shore,
scattering treasures where they've dashed
from the fear came something more
babe, I didn't fall, I crashed.

© Chrissy Olinger … last line stolen from Ahmed El Anjanar  :)

Publish or Perish in 2012

As I entered 2011 I made a promise to myself to stop messing around.  2011 was my most productive year as both a writer and a language forensics specialist, though it may not be immediately obvious.  2012 is, to put it bluntly, going to be my bitch.

At the Christmas get together for my much beloved writing group, the unanimous decision was to push EVERY member of the group to publish in 2012.  And the thing is… there’s no longer an excuse.  With the explosion of direct publishing, no writer can languish in the endless circular battle of submission and rejection.  While indie is not the way for all of us to go, and while it may not be the final word for each writer, it completely destroys the wall between writer and reader.  So even those of us still targeting New York (I’d hazard to guess this is still the majority) have made a pact to put SOMETHING out.  Short stories, novellas, collections, poetry… pick one.  If you are a member of SSMAWriters, you’ve got a book coming out this year.  The vote was unanimous.

I’m SO behind the idea that I’m challenging my non-SSMAW friends to join us.  Crawl under your bed, dig out that manuscript nobody wanted, workshop the SHIT out of it, and publish the damned thing.  Publish your angsty poetry.  Publish your senior thesis on Dickens and Anti-Semitism.  Publish the quirky collection of essays you still have from your stint as a college newspaper columnist.  PUBLISH SOMETHING.  If you are a writer, you have bins overflowing.  If it wasn’t good enough make it good enough.

Keep submitting.  Target your dream deal.  But publish.

The gauntlet is at your feet.

An End to the Truant Pen in 2012

I was away for a few weeks, and I’m only sorta-back. Know what I discovered? Writers have gone nasty.

My return was marked by endless snark, shots fired across many a bow, and more amazon-is-evil, indies-have-no-talent-or-clue, NY-is-the-devil, and cetera.

Is this the best we can do? Jesus Christ on a Cracker, I hope not.

In general I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. In the past I have, trying to be funny, submitted a yearly list of demands. (I know… I’m adorable.) This year I am going to get resolute for a change. And I’m challenging all my friends who are writers to join me:

SHUT UP AND WRITE IN 2012

Waddaya say, friends? 2011 saw the rise of the direct publishing movement; it saw the death of Borders; it saw Nook-Kindle wars; and it saw the end of some friendships for me. Why? Because it became a daily rant from one writer or another about why publishing free books was either incredibly smart or incredibly stupid, but nobody was supposed to say so. We got passive-aggressive “here is why the opposing opinion is utter crap, but please understand, I don’t mean to say it’s crap.” We got “indies have no right to use the term indie, no offense, but they aren’t real indies, WE are the real indies, and everyone else is an asshole, but we’re going to use the term ‘misguided’ to avoid saying anything we actually think.” We got “I am an editor at X house and therefore know more than you, so here is why NY is not afraid of you at all, little direct publishing sillies, which is why we harp on how unimportant you are every fucking day, hahahaha, why would you think I’m nervous, you insignificant creature?” We got “NY publishing will be gone by 2012 and here are fourteen reasons; I should know, I sold a bajillion copies of the following book you’ve never heard of on Smashwords.”

We got full of ourselves, wrapped up in bullshit, and really off the goddamned track, katz n kittenz.

So my plan for 2012, once I heal from the latest surgery and get my galleys back from the formatter I (reluctantly) hired… is to SHUT THE HELL UP AND WRITE. Take it away, Sir Phillip.

But words came halting forth, wanting Invention’s stay;
Invention, Nature’s child, fled step-dame Study’s blows;
And others’ feet still seemed but strangers in my way.
Thus, great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,
Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite—
“Fool!” said my Muse to me “look in thy heart, and write!” --Sir Philip Sidney

Night, and Her Train of Plot Bunnies...

In a completely desperate move, I knocked myself out with sleeping pills last night. I hate them, so the scrip usually expires before I use them all. But in my drug-induced sleep, I had one of those really weird dreams that's part memory, and woke up remembering this novella I'd written on a retreat weekend back in my college days. My memory is vague on the process. I believe I tapped out most of it on an Alphasmart under a flowering chestnut tree in Scotland... but it would have been around 1992-1994, so that seems unlikely.

Crawling out of bed, I took a wild shot.

I'll be damned.

Crammed between some old term papers I refuse to throw away was a red folder with a label too worn to read. Opening it, I found the story I'd dreamed about. The title is ESCAPING HOME. I had no memory of it prior to the dream last night, and only a sketchy memory of it even as I opened the folder. Basically I knew it was a young adult novella about an abused girl who leaves home, lives on her own, but is forced from one place to the next through a series of tragedies. The only constant in her life is a desire to escape poverty and cruelty and to somehow attain an education.

But there it was... complete an nearly pristine inside a ratty red folder. Since I am trying very hard to get back on track with NaNoWriMo I have no time to give this story. Still... it has earned some love. So next year, when I get a small gap, I'll be paying some sucker to type it into a word file, and will give it a home via CreateSpace. Survivors should always stick together.

P.S. Art nerds got the title. :)

The Zombie Zone

Lately my life has been all about the zombies. Unlike vampires, zombies are still lingering in the fringes of publishing, though they have really started to take off. How long the trend will last remains to be seen, though Natalie Portman starring in Pride and Prejudice and the Zombies may be a contributing factor.

Like all things I get stuck on, I stumbled on the zombie thing accidentally. I've always kept a plot book-- crammed with ideas that may be brilliant or crap, depending on both perspective and mood. I was reacting negatively to a discussion of the zombie trend when the idea for my current WIP hit me. This happens to me a lot. I start to mentally prepare a criticism of something and realize I would like it, IF... and IF takes over.

One of the things I have done, as I enter the zombie zone, is research the serious side of zombies. No, really. I interviewed an actual Santeria priestess to get the facts from her perspective. I also talked to a funeral director at a family owned funeral parlor. I have about ten pages of notes.

Because once I know the rules, I can break them. Responsibly, I hope, but breaking them is the fun part. I like to anticipate every objection and answer it before it gets loose. So when zombie fans read my work and say to themselves "no, he wouldn't be decomposing yet," they are forced to put on the breaks the second one of my characters explains, patiently and clearly, the reason this preconceived notion is incorrect... at least in my newly created world.

So how do you create rules in a fictional world? And where do you stand on zombies? Frankly, I avoid standing on the ripe ones. They tend to go annoyinglyh smushy. :)

NECRWA Check In

I must say I am really enjoying the NECRWA Conference in Framingham this year. Not just because both of the events I attended (with both Lisa Gardner and Jessica Faust, both were astonishing), but because I've gotten a great sense of the spectrum of other authors, how they work, and where I fit in. I think a smaller conference is the best choice for me. I don't feel lost, nor do I feel particularly conspicuous.

So far Team Diva has done really well, each of us getting (at least) a request for our work. But the best part for me has been spending time with these wonderful women, some of them from far off, exotic locations like Washington State. I'll cherish these few days.

See you soon!

Jason Stephan Tattoo Magic

Oh my holy skinart moments of wonder... I just found Jason Stephan in International Tattoo Art magazine and fell instantly in LUST with this tattoo, which appears on his website, JasonStephan.com

Wow. Just... wow.

Angela James at Romance Divas

Angela James, editor extraordinaire, is coming to Romance Divas for a 3 day class on Epublishing! Come join us Jan 13-15 and ask her anything.

Everything You Ever Needed to Know About Epublishing (and some things you didn't know you should know)

Why doesn't epublishing offer advances? What are some of the pros and cons of publishing my manuscript via epublishing? How do I research publishers? Can I really make money in epublishing? What exactly is POD? Can you give me a snappy comeback for people who say that epublishing isn't real publishing?

Epublishing has evolved and grown, especially in the last 5 years, but with growth comes pitfalls and problems, and trusting an epublisher with your baby might seem like a risky proposition. We'll cover the basics of epublishing, from choosing an epublisher and contract details to methods of ebook and print distribution to reasons why you might not want to epublish your manuscript.

Bio:

In 2005, Angela James joined Samhain Publishing, Ltd, a small press company focusing on digital publishing, as its executive editor, where she has played an instrumental role in building the company from the ground up. In her executive position at Samhain, Angela is responsible for managing the publisher's editorial services division. Her responsibilities include the management of editorial staff, quality oversight, networking and marketing efforts at regional, national and international writing conferences to promote the electronic publishing industry as well as Samhain.

In addition to her administrative duties, Angela continues to edit more than 50 authors including national bestselling authors Lucy Monroe, Lilith Saintcrow and Deidre Knight.

The Netbook Revolution

In spite of all the nay-saying that met the first Asus EEE mini, which I only this morning sent off to its new home, netbooks are not going away. Originally they were more commonly known as "mini pc's." First users were intended to be children, but like the Alphasmarts before them, nerds and writers quickly took over and embraced them for new purposes. Before the manufacturer's knew what had happened demand completely shifted focus. We wanted the tiny size but better keyboard, screen, memory.

That original mini was, for me, the first 7 inch Asus EEE with only 512mb and a teenie screen and keyboard. Both the smaller screen and keyboard were fine for me, but I discovered my dependence on the portability grew steadily, and before I knew it I was hungry for more RAM, speed, space, and options. Enter the Lenovo s10 netbook, which was only 2 ounces heavier, but came with a full screen and keyboard, plus a full gig of ram. Not only that, but 180mhz makes this little model blazing fast.

Rated just a hair behind the MSI Wind, largely thought to be the best netbook, I prefer the Lenovo simply because it's light, was very inexpensive, and leaves a smoke-trail behind it that none of my full sized laptops could ever match. If I could redesign it the only features I'd change would be the location of the CTRL key, longer battery life (though it hasn't yet been an issue... we all want batteries to last for 8 hours), and a less smudgy surface. If only they'd had it in pink! I got the only model in my state and it was black.

My baby really does take good care of me. This may be the coolest gift EVER.

Honestly, if you are a writer you need a netbook. Why? It weighs barely more than 2 pounds, so you can sling it into your purse. Ideal for surfing, writing, and light tasks, these little work-horses almost force us to write rather than goof off. They require USB or SD storage, since they have no floppy or CD/DVD drives, also saving space and weight.

For serious... they should come with "best seller in progress" printed across the lid.