Well done ... er ... almost done!

Do you ever feel guilty about those unfinished projects?  We all have them … the room half-painted, the basement almost-cleaned, the closet still packed, floor to ceiling, with too-tight pants, ‘80s-era shirts, and scuffed-up, time-worn shoes … oh, so many shoes.

“By golly, tomorrow I’m going to clean this all out!”

Tomorrow never comes.

An abbreviated Bounty

Many years ago, when we first started going to the cottage together, Cindy and I worked on a model ship – the HMS Bounty.  We successfully glued its bow and stern, stowed the lifeboats, hoisted its masts and ran the rigging. 

For three years, during our two-week stays there, we dutifully pulled out TV tables, unpacked the box and laid out the instructions. Each summer we had to purchase a new tube of glue; the prior year's had dried up.  But we were determined to finish it.

Never did. 

It sat in the cottage with most of its sails unfurled – heck, not even attached – for about 30 years until I brought it home last October in the front passenger seat of the truck.  The truck carried other remnants of the vacated cottage – Dad’s old chair, the fireplace mantle he built, the Sunfish sailboat, the banged-up Weber ….

We unloaded it all into our third garage, where it still sits; the model ship, which is fragile, rests again in dry dock, though in the downstairs bedroom.

Occasionally comes the guilt about the mess in the garage.

“By golly, tomorrow I’m going to straighten this all out!”

Yeah, right.

An unfinished beauty

It’s part of the human condition, sure, to begin something but delay or never complete it.  And I guess sometimes half-finished is finished enough.

A number of composers left splendid but unfinished symphonies – Schubert and Beethoven, to name two.  Good company, there!

And there are glorious cathedrals still undone. Perhaps the most famous is the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. Started in 1882, it won't be finished until 2026 if they're lucky.  But who’s to deny it isn't beautiful right now?

Anyway, one of the projects I feel most guilty about is a quilt I’m making.  Readers of this blog know that part of my job is publishing books on how to quilt.  So two years ago, I took up the challenge of actually making one. 

It’s the fool who sees in a mountain only a modest hill.

Some day ... some day

I posted an update of my project on our quilting blog, Pickledish.com.  Feel free to check it out. 

Unless, of course, you’re busy finishing up something else.  Far be it from me to stop or delay you … to give you reason to say, “I’ll get back to that in a minute.”  We all know that minutes turn to hours, then to days and weeks. Maybe years.

Said Benjamin Franklin, “Well done is better than well said!”

Jeez … Ben was such a “get-it-done-guy." 

He makes me tired.

Bookworms on the march

We’re sitting back in the sunroom today, the dogs, Sky and me.  That’s because the sun is out … a blessing following heavy snows a couple of days ago, with another half-foot predicted for tomorrow.

The sunroom's book bank

So the sun’s rays warm the room and heart while Sky chats on and the dogs sleep.

For you bird watchers, Sky continues to do just fine, thank you.  Such a loudmouth.

This is where I like to read sometimes.  Here, and in front of the fireplace.  There are books everywhere here … ones we’ve read, many still to read.  I spot some of Cindy’s books she received for Christmas. 

This is her book bank of sorts.  Like money, she pulls a book out, then later puts it back in, where it sits waiting to enrich someone else’s life.  Often mine.

I should also mention that we looked at Nooks last night.

Oh, and Zach is now a blogger.

All three things – our book bank, the Nook, Zach’s literary debut – tell volumes about the state of the writing and reading business these days.

That it’s my business doesn’t necessarily make me an expert.  But I’m certainly an interested observer.

We’re witnessing the implosion of the book-publishing business, much like how the music world got turned on its head.  The fact is, it’s never been easier to write for an audience.  And it’s never been easier to read what’s written.

It’s all good. Really.

First, to the writing.  My son Zach has always been a student of music … literally and figuratively.  He plays a mean bass guitar and enjoys writing tunes. But he, like so many of the young, also soaks up music tracks – both popular and obscure – like a thirsty camel.

Zach likes "How I Got Over"

So when Zach decided he wanted to do some literary writing, he chose music as his topic.  And thus his blog “finallymoving … like spinning plates.”   Check it out.

Writing for the public for the first time can be nerve-wracking, especially when what’s shared is so, well, personal.  Zach, however, showed little trepidation with his first post. I think that’s because his generation shares so much already, through social networks and the like. 

As I write this, at this moment, BlogPulse says there are about 156 million operating blogs, with 75,000 new ones started each day.  Meanwhile, Google Books has estimated that there have only been about 130 million books published in all of modern history!

Sure, blogs and books are not apples to apples.  But then again, as measured by authors, perhaps they are.  Each day, 75,000 new authors or groups of authors take to the literary stage.  Their individual audiences may be just one or two people in the front row.  But they’re up there, shouting their own “To be … or not to be!”  Sharing a small piece of their world.

Wanting the world to listen.

Yes, blogs are not books.  One’s electronic, the other historically is in print. But that gets us to the Nook. For those who don’t know, the Nook is Barnes & Noble’s noble attempt at an e-reader.  You can download electronic books in full color.  It’s smart, fast … a nifty device, like Amazon’s Kindle or Apple’s iPad.

Cindy is interested in buying a Nook to try it out.  I’m waiting for the next-generation iPad.

The Nook

It’s common knowledge that e-readers were the hot Christmas item last month.  Barnes & Noble admitted as much at every store, shoving aside its entry-way table usually stacked high with the latest books, and replacing it with a massive Nook display, fully staffed.

So it’s a given that e-readers are making book reading easier, more accessible, even more affordable.

What most folks don’t know, though, is that this electronic convergence is also making it easier and more affordable for anyone to publish their own book. In fact, there are some services out there that can grab all of my posts on this blog and convert them to Word files or other common formats. 

I can then upload those files to companies like Amazon’s Create Space or Lulu.com, which will turn them into my own e-book. And … get this … at no charge! Not only that, they’ll put my book up on their store sites.

So, now, blog does equal book!

And it gets better: They’ll actually print my book for those who want a printed version … again, at no charge to me.  And provide distribution to bookstores, libraries and other outlets!

Oh … and when my book sells?  They pay me.  A pretty good chunk, really.

How’s this possible?  It’s really a fairly simple business model.  E-book technology has some fixed costs but no variable expenses, like paper and ink.  New page-printing techniques, meanwhile, allow these companies to print a book on demand.  So they don’t print a copy of your book until they sell a copy of your book.

Picture a giant Xerox machine, but one with high-quality paper and binding capabilities.

Once they sell a copy, they split the revenue with the author.

It’s a business model that makes book publishers nervous.  As with the music industry, the middleman is at risk.  Bands don’t need big-label music companies to make a splash anymore, nor do authors need a Simon and Schuster.

Yeah, there are caveats here. Big publishers provide heavy marketing, which helps, although even that advantage is shrinking as social networking grows. And you’ll want your self-published book to look good … not amateurish.  So you might need to spend money on design help, especially the cover.

Finally, there are limits on the kinds of books that Amazon and Lula can print – only softcover, with set dimensions and page counts.  Not like the large, color-rich hardcover books that we tend to publish in my job.

But that, too, will change.

Thick as a brick

Which gets me, finally, to our sunroom’s book bank.  I love printed books … love to hold them, to smell them, to feel the texture of the pages, to hear the pages turn.

As with newspapers, there will always be printed books.  And, over time, I’m sure we’ll begin to see some self-published authors in our book bank.  Maybe even a book by Zach one day.

But I’m itching for change.  Right now I’m reading Ken Follett’s marvelous “Fall of Giants,” the first book in his much-anticipated trilogy.

It’s a great book.  It’s also a big book … heavy as a brick and awkward to hold and read.

I predict when I start Follett’s Part II, I’ll still be here in the sunroom, or by the fireplace, with the dogs afoot.

But I plan to have on my lap an iPad.

I also hope to still have a job.