In the 1930s, a charitable trust built London's New Era estate to provide affordable housing to working class residents.
In 2014, that estate has been sold to Westbrook Partners who have openly declared their intention to refurbish the entire estate and then raise the rent to 'market' rates. This is likely to treble the cost.
Many of the current residents will leave because they will not be able to afford to stay. They are unlikely to find anywhere else at a similar rent in a similar location. And so groups of friends, family members, social circles - an entire community - will be broken apart.
Some may end up homeless. Some of them will be rehoused by the local council. Some will not.
The story is explained very clearly here.
None of this is illegal
You might think something in the above story should be against the law. It isn't. Westbrook are perfectly entitled, in law, to act in this way.
Anything else would be unfair encumbrance on the free market. And we wouldn't want that, would we? Where would it end?
(Anyone saying 'Scandinavian levels of equality, social care, health care, civilised values and bleak television dramas' can award themselves an extra point.)
Enough of being flippant
Protests to Westbrook Partners are pointless. They exist in order to buy up stuff that they think is undervalued and then sell it on for a better price. They're not breaking the law. They're acting in the interests of their clients. Why should they give the current residents a break - and thereby give a smaller return to their own employees, shareholders and investors?
But maybe protests to the investors would work better.
According to the article in The Guardian, two investors in Westbrook Partners are the 'New York State Teachers Retirement System' and the 'State of New Jersey'.
Do you want your pension to be funded from mass evictions of working class families?
Has anyone asked that question of New York State teachers?
Sure, not all of them will care. But some of them will be horrified. Some of them would accept a very slightly smaller pension to avoid causing misery to others.
And some of them will work to ensure that Westbrook Partners leave the residents of the New Era Estate alone - and don't go looking for similar targets elsewhere.
And if they can't achieve that, some of them will try to stop their pension fund from investing in Westbrook at all.
I don't have the resources
I don't have the resources to track down every pension fund and private individual who invests in Westbrook Partners. But, with a bit of media exposure in the USA, some of them might even step forward.
And if the lost business becomes large enough, if the bottom line starts to smart, maybe investment houses will think this sort of speculation is not worth the trouble.
U-Turn
In my last post, I argued against a boycott of Amazon on the grounds that using the principle of the free market to try to encourage morality from a company was likely to lead to a resurgence of Roman-style entertainment. (Perhaps I got a little carried away, but I did state that I thought my analogy was clumsy.)
And yet here I'm recommending using the free market to try to alter a company's behaviour by pressure from its customers.
Some might call this a u-turn. I prefer to think of it as looking for an approach that might make a difference.
Feel free to argue the point - here, on Twitter, on street corners if you prefer but I might not turn up.
Thursday, 4 December 2014
Playing into their hands
Since I last wrote about my objection to a boycott of a certain well-known web retailer, the situation has changed. The British government is proposing a change in the law to prevent some 'tax efficiencies' from being used. It remains to be seen whether that will help, or whether a new loophole will be discovered.
This, of course, leaves the other objection about treatment and pay for their staff.
Don't get me wrong
I am no apologist for companies trying to get away with paying staff as little as possible while reducing their tax liability as far as possible. But I fail to see why anyone would expect them to act any differently.
Yes, I'd like people to be paid an decent wage for a day's work.
No, I don't think that ludicrously low wages should be propped up by tax credits from the state - because that's effectively the state subsidising the profits of large multinational companies by making it possible for their employees to work for starvation wages.
If a human being needs to earn a minimum salary in order to buy food, clothes, and shelter then why on earth would the 'minimum wage' be any less than that?
If a company can't operate by paying proper wages then its business model is fundamentally flawed and it should be allowed to go bankrupt rather than relying on state handouts.
But it's not that, is it? They just want to make more profit and they can. So the minimum wage needs to go up. The profits can either come down - or they can charge more for their goods or services.
Anything else is market distortion. And we wouldn't want that, would we?
Market distortion is a good thing
Of course it is. And this is why a boycott is wrong.
If we, the great unwashed, the plebs, the salt of the earth, decide that we can change the behaviour of a large company by boycott then it means we have accepted that the free market has all the answers.
It means that we accept that change can only come about because of where the money goes. If it stops going to one company, that company will work out why people don't like it any more and try to change.
Which means that governments can wash their hands of any responsibility for looking out for the interests of its citizens. Don't like the actions of company A? Don't buy anything from them and the free market will do the rest.
No.
The role of a government is to look out for the interests of its citizens. And if something is being done which is against the interests of the citizens of a country (e.g. paying starvation wages, propping up your business model with state handouts, reducing your tax bill to near zero) - it is for the government to step in and fix laws and regulations so they work in the interest of the majority.
In other words, the government must distort the market. Because the alternative is unthinkable.
The boycott wouldn't work anyway
Sure, you might deprive a company of a million or two. But that's hardly going to be an incentive for them to start paying hundreds of millions more in tax and salary. Sorry.
Silly analogy - or a clumsy attempt to show why laws are better than market forces
Company D decides that they'll make a television programme in which random people are punched in the street - and their reactions captured in slow-motion high-definition.
Should we wait to see if anyone watches it? If so, the revenue from advertising will prove that the market approves - and a small amount of the profit could deal with the lawsuits and medical bills.
Or should the government stop them, perhaps by enacting a law forbidding that sort of violence, coupled with a law enforcement mechanism, perhaps including a police force, a judiciary and some prisons?
This, of course, leaves the other objection about treatment and pay for their staff.
Don't get me wrong
I am no apologist for companies trying to get away with paying staff as little as possible while reducing their tax liability as far as possible. But I fail to see why anyone would expect them to act any differently.
Yes, I'd like people to be paid an decent wage for a day's work.
No, I don't think that ludicrously low wages should be propped up by tax credits from the state - because that's effectively the state subsidising the profits of large multinational companies by making it possible for their employees to work for starvation wages.
If a human being needs to earn a minimum salary in order to buy food, clothes, and shelter then why on earth would the 'minimum wage' be any less than that?
If a company can't operate by paying proper wages then its business model is fundamentally flawed and it should be allowed to go bankrupt rather than relying on state handouts.
But it's not that, is it? They just want to make more profit and they can. So the minimum wage needs to go up. The profits can either come down - or they can charge more for their goods or services.
Anything else is market distortion. And we wouldn't want that, would we?
Market distortion is a good thing
Of course it is. And this is why a boycott is wrong.
If we, the great unwashed, the plebs, the salt of the earth, decide that we can change the behaviour of a large company by boycott then it means we have accepted that the free market has all the answers.
It means that we accept that change can only come about because of where the money goes. If it stops going to one company, that company will work out why people don't like it any more and try to change.
Which means that governments can wash their hands of any responsibility for looking out for the interests of its citizens. Don't like the actions of company A? Don't buy anything from them and the free market will do the rest.
No.
The role of a government is to look out for the interests of its citizens. And if something is being done which is against the interests of the citizens of a country (e.g. paying starvation wages, propping up your business model with state handouts, reducing your tax bill to near zero) - it is for the government to step in and fix laws and regulations so they work in the interest of the majority.
In other words, the government must distort the market. Because the alternative is unthinkable.
The boycott wouldn't work anyway
Sure, you might deprive a company of a million or two. But that's hardly going to be an incentive for them to start paying hundreds of millions more in tax and salary. Sorry.
Silly analogy - or a clumsy attempt to show why laws are better than market forces
Company D decides that they'll make a television programme in which random people are punched in the street - and their reactions captured in slow-motion high-definition.
Should we wait to see if anyone watches it? If so, the revenue from advertising will prove that the market approves - and a small amount of the profit could deal with the lawsuits and medical bills.
Or should the government stop them, perhaps by enacting a law forbidding that sort of violence, coupled with a law enforcement mechanism, perhaps including a police force, a judiciary and some prisons?
Thursday, 27 November 2014
Hitting where it hurts
Yesterday, on Twitter, a well-known author was advocating a boycott of a well-known internet retailer.
The story about the boycott is here. The well-known author is Mark Haddon.
Let me make it absolutely clear that I have nothing but respect for Mark Haddon. However, I'm not convinced that a boycott is going to help here.
After his initial tweet:
The Xmas anti-Amazon campagin is gathering momentum. They stand to lose £500,000 http://www.theguardian.com/books/2014/nov/20/amazon-anonymous-campaign-veto-christmas …
I responded with this:
Potentially much collateral damage on this one. Marketplace sellers, self-published authors to name but two categories.
He said:
No one is suggesting not buying any presents just buying them elsewhere.
Which, I hope you'll agree, I wasn't suggesting that anyone was suggesting. So I pointed out:
I wasn't suggesting that anyone was suggesting not buying presents. Just pointing out that boycott hurts more than just Amazon
He countered:
as does not boycotting amazon. but there is a good reason for resisting amazon before they eat everyone up.
And I wrote:
which is all very well if you have a publishing deal. self-published independent authors might feel differently
To which he replied:
amazon has a near-monopoly on the self-publishing market. so authors who self-publish feel feel more warmly about them.
that doesn't stop them being terrible employers & tax cheats who try & destroy anyone who stands in their way.
I felt the first of those was a little cheeky so I wrote:
it's difficult not to feel more warmly to an organisation that will help in your career than to those who ignore or condescend
...and mainstream publishers are very good at acting as though theirs are the only works of quality. amazon more open.
sure, their salaries are low and their tax is very 'efficient' - but that applies to a good chunk of the high street too
which is not to condone, merely point out that the competition doesn't exactly smell of roses either
And he finished with:
we should perhaps leave this subject for now. i'll be writing a lot more about it later in the year...
And me (too desperate for the last word):
I already had! I think you're one of the good guys. Just be careful where you wave that boycott stick.
Writing a lot more about it? If you want to write it as a debate, I hereby volunteer to put the argument for the defence.
I don't think he'll take me up on the challenge
...which is a shame because I think his position is deeply flawed.
And, simply because he's written a number of excellent and well-received books, doesn't mean that he should have more of a chance to influence the public perception of the state of retail than the next person (i.e. me).
But it sounds like he'll have the opportunity to write 'a lot more' about his view.
So I hereby repeat my challenge. Bring it on. Tell me how boycotting one company is going to help anyone at all in any way. And let me answer, point for point.
Here's a taster of some of the counter-arguments
You're going to have to accompany the boycott with a list of which retailers are acceptable and which ones aren't. We can't get everything from John Lewis, you know.
And I don't want to start rating companies for how well I think they treat their staff and whether their tax efficiencies are more or less aggressive than any other company's.
Retailers don't owe anyone anything
And it's a rather tired argument to suggest that any company should pay any more tax than it's legally obliged to. I'm not defending the position - but the change must come from government. You can't expect a company whose duty is to its shareholders to pay a penny more in either tax or salary than it needs to in order to comply with the law.
Some might do so. That's up to them.
Here's the cheeky bit
The boycott has to cut both ways, of course. If any author feels so strongly that they want to boycott a retailer - and wants to persuade others to do the same - let that author pull his/her own work from that retailer.
Otherwise, how can we take them seriously? If you expect customers to shop less conveniently and (perhaps) more expensively, then lead from the front.
P.S.
I don't mind whether you buy my books from Amazon, from me - or from any retailer you like the look of. All readers welcome and appreciated.
http://www.petertarnofsky.co.uk
The story about the boycott is here. The well-known author is Mark Haddon.
Let me make it absolutely clear that I have nothing but respect for Mark Haddon. However, I'm not convinced that a boycott is going to help here.
After his initial tweet:
The Xmas anti-Amazon campagin is gathering momentum. They stand to lose £500,000 http://www.theguardian.com/books/2014/nov/20/amazon-anonymous-campaign-veto-christmas …
I responded with this:
Potentially much collateral damage on this one. Marketplace sellers, self-published authors to name but two categories.
He said:
No one is suggesting not buying any presents just buying them elsewhere.
Which, I hope you'll agree, I wasn't suggesting that anyone was suggesting. So I pointed out:
I wasn't suggesting that anyone was suggesting not buying presents. Just pointing out that boycott hurts more than just Amazon
He countered:
as does not boycotting amazon. but there is a good reason for resisting amazon before they eat everyone up.
And I wrote:
which is all very well if you have a publishing deal. self-published independent authors might feel differently
To which he replied:
amazon has a near-monopoly on the self-publishing market. so authors who self-publish feel feel more warmly about them.
that doesn't stop them being terrible employers & tax cheats who try & destroy anyone who stands in their way.
I felt the first of those was a little cheeky so I wrote:
it's difficult not to feel more warmly to an organisation that will help in your career than to those who ignore or condescend
...and mainstream publishers are very good at acting as though theirs are the only works of quality. amazon more open.
sure, their salaries are low and their tax is very 'efficient' - but that applies to a good chunk of the high street too
which is not to condone, merely point out that the competition doesn't exactly smell of roses either
And he finished with:
we should perhaps leave this subject for now. i'll be writing a lot more about it later in the year...
And me (too desperate for the last word):
I already had! I think you're one of the good guys. Just be careful where you wave that boycott stick.
Writing a lot more about it? If you want to write it as a debate, I hereby volunteer to put the argument for the defence.
I don't think he'll take me up on the challenge
...which is a shame because I think his position is deeply flawed.
And, simply because he's written a number of excellent and well-received books, doesn't mean that he should have more of a chance to influence the public perception of the state of retail than the next person (i.e. me).
But it sounds like he'll have the opportunity to write 'a lot more' about his view.
So I hereby repeat my challenge. Bring it on. Tell me how boycotting one company is going to help anyone at all in any way. And let me answer, point for point.
Here's a taster of some of the counter-arguments
You're going to have to accompany the boycott with a list of which retailers are acceptable and which ones aren't. We can't get everything from John Lewis, you know.
And I don't want to start rating companies for how well I think they treat their staff and whether their tax efficiencies are more or less aggressive than any other company's.
Retailers don't owe anyone anything
And it's a rather tired argument to suggest that any company should pay any more tax than it's legally obliged to. I'm not defending the position - but the change must come from government. You can't expect a company whose duty is to its shareholders to pay a penny more in either tax or salary than it needs to in order to comply with the law.
Some might do so. That's up to them.
Here's the cheeky bit
The boycott has to cut both ways, of course. If any author feels so strongly that they want to boycott a retailer - and wants to persuade others to do the same - let that author pull his/her own work from that retailer.
Otherwise, how can we take them seriously? If you expect customers to shop less conveniently and (perhaps) more expensively, then lead from the front.
P.S.
I don't mind whether you buy my books from Amazon, from me - or from any retailer you like the look of. All readers welcome and appreciated.
http://www.petertarnofsky.co.uk
Wednesday, 26 November 2014
It's like Tony Jordan's "Hustle" is coming true - without the good guys
In 2004, Hustle began on BBC1. Slipping down a treat, close enough to plausible, stuffed with charismatic actors - thoroughly enjoyable, in other words.
In the very first episode, in the first few minutes, Robert Glenister's character rolls himself over the bonnet of a car driven by a man on the phone, not watching where he's going. (You might recognise where this is going, given my last blog post.)
In fiction, that driver might change his ways. In the real world, they go speeding around nattering and tweeting with impunity. Where is Ash Morgan when you need him?
The classic setup
Many of the stories used the wonderful trope that you can't con an innocent man (or something like that - I assume they weren't referring to the Billy Joel song).
So there would be some dodgy geezer operating barely inside the law, greedily going for self-enrichment regardless of the impact on others - and therefore being caught by the gang of fraudsters who dangle an offer that turns out to be too good to be true, before swindling him/her out of a significant sum of money. Or valuable object. Or something.
Sometimes, Robin Hood style, the proceeds would end up with the injured party from the beginning of the story.
Here's one of theirs
Greedy property magnates buy up housing estate in opaque circumstances. They then proceed to evict decent working-class folk who live there, tart up the estate and rent out at vastly increased rates. With no regard, naturally, for the previous residents.
Hang on - that's actually happening. And, what makes it even better, one of these magnates even lives in the sort of house that his fictitious counterparts used to have.
Here's the juicy part of the story.
Which sting would be the most appropriate?
If this were happening in the world of fiction (because clearly I'm not suggesting or condoning real-world crime), how would Mickey's gang take them down?
And, in the real world, without Mickey's gang, what hope is there?
In the very first episode, in the first few minutes, Robert Glenister's character rolls himself over the bonnet of a car driven by a man on the phone, not watching where he's going. (You might recognise where this is going, given my last blog post.)
In fiction, that driver might change his ways. In the real world, they go speeding around nattering and tweeting with impunity. Where is Ash Morgan when you need him?
The classic setup
Many of the stories used the wonderful trope that you can't con an innocent man (or something like that - I assume they weren't referring to the Billy Joel song).
So there would be some dodgy geezer operating barely inside the law, greedily going for self-enrichment regardless of the impact on others - and therefore being caught by the gang of fraudsters who dangle an offer that turns out to be too good to be true, before swindling him/her out of a significant sum of money. Or valuable object. Or something.
Sometimes, Robin Hood style, the proceeds would end up with the injured party from the beginning of the story.
Here's one of theirs
Greedy property magnates buy up housing estate in opaque circumstances. They then proceed to evict decent working-class folk who live there, tart up the estate and rent out at vastly increased rates. With no regard, naturally, for the previous residents.
Hang on - that's actually happening. And, what makes it even better, one of these magnates even lives in the sort of house that his fictitious counterparts used to have.
Here's the juicy part of the story.
Which sting would be the most appropriate?
If this were happening in the world of fiction (because clearly I'm not suggesting or condoning real-world crime), how would Mickey's gang take them down?
And, in the real world, without Mickey's gang, what hope is there?
Thursday, 20 November 2014
Solving serious problems (and other clickbait)
Some would say that my choice of title is inadvisable if I want readers. We'll see. (Statistics available on request.)
Regular readers of my work will know that I have a pet hate of people who drive inconsiderately, dangerously or with an overactive sense of entitlement. I wrote about it here. And I also touched on the subject in a few places in this rather attractive book.
You can probably imagine my opinion of people who make phone calls while driving.
However, seeing the number of people texting or tweeting or updating their Disgracebook status or (for all I know) watching something on Netflix while driving - that makes me long for the days when they were just talking - you know, distracted but still fundamentally looking where they were going.
This week, the police tweeted a new campaign. Here's the poster:
And what an absolute waste of time, money and typography that is.
I'm going to stick my neck out here and suggest that this poster will do absolutely NOTHING WHATSOEVER to reduce the problem of idiot drivers not looking where they're going.
This poster will appeal to those who like to solve a puzzle.
They (We?) will look at it, consider it, work it out, feel slightly smart, get a tiny pleasure rush in that bit of the brain that likes to feel it's doing good work - and then carry on with their (our?) day.
Most people will see a lot of words, not bother to read past the first line and certainly won't read the tiny print at the bottom. Did you even notice it?
Utter rubbish. Could I do better? Of course I could. So could you.
I can't draw very well so forgive the crude sketch which I have literally drawn on the back of an envelope.
Clearly a more skillful illustrator might have included a steering wheel and made the sight line more obviously going to the phone rather than to the world outside. But I think it's direct, hard-hitting and clear.
And yes, we can wonder why the child has no knees and is wearing a cardigan. Alternatively we could press for campaigns that are more eye-catching.
It has been done before. In fact, a direct approach was used to tackle a similar problem - that of teenagers getting distracted by their phones and forgetting basic road safety.
One example looked like this:
And, horrible as it is, the poster is eye-catching and its message is very clear. I was trying to show the moment before - they went straight for the moment after.
Pointless without enforcement
But the best campaign ever in the history of campaigns is destined to fail if there is no enforcement. I have never seen (or heard of) anyone stopped (let alone punished) for driving while staring at a screen.
They're not hard to find. I pass at least ten offenders while walking to and from school. They pootle along the road, staring at their screens, prodding them with their fingers and occasionally glancing up to check that the traffic in front is still moving.
Clearly they feel that what they're doing is fine, that they're entitled to do it and that they are safe drivers, oh yes.
Stop them, fine them, revoke their licences. It wouldn't take many before word got around.
Let's not wait until it becomes normal to stare at screens while driving - and unfashionable to complain about people doing it - and some morons say that any attempt to stop it would be a war on motorists. In the same way that going after people driving way over the speed limit is, apparently, a war on motorists.
There's only one war against motorists
And that's the one being waged by other motorists. Trying to get people to drive safely and within the law is not an example of the nanny state.
Go on - argue with me. I dare you.
Regular readers of my work will know that I have a pet hate of people who drive inconsiderately, dangerously or with an overactive sense of entitlement. I wrote about it here. And I also touched on the subject in a few places in this rather attractive book.
You can probably imagine my opinion of people who make phone calls while driving.
However, seeing the number of people texting or tweeting or updating their Disgracebook status or (for all I know) watching something on Netflix while driving - that makes me long for the days when they were just talking - you know, distracted but still fundamentally looking where they were going.
This week, the police tweeted a new campaign. Here's the poster:
I'm going to stick my neck out here and suggest that this poster will do absolutely NOTHING WHATSOEVER to reduce the problem of idiot drivers not looking where they're going.
This poster will appeal to those who like to solve a puzzle.
They (We?) will look at it, consider it, work it out, feel slightly smart, get a tiny pleasure rush in that bit of the brain that likes to feel it's doing good work - and then carry on with their (our?) day.
Most people will see a lot of words, not bother to read past the first line and certainly won't read the tiny print at the bottom. Did you even notice it?
Utter rubbish. Could I do better? Of course I could. So could you.
I can't draw very well so forgive the crude sketch which I have literally drawn on the back of an envelope.
And yes, we can wonder why the child has no knees and is wearing a cardigan. Alternatively we could press for campaigns that are more eye-catching.
It has been done before. In fact, a direct approach was used to tackle a similar problem - that of teenagers getting distracted by their phones and forgetting basic road safety.
One example looked like this:
Pointless without enforcement
But the best campaign ever in the history of campaigns is destined to fail if there is no enforcement. I have never seen (or heard of) anyone stopped (let alone punished) for driving while staring at a screen.
They're not hard to find. I pass at least ten offenders while walking to and from school. They pootle along the road, staring at their screens, prodding them with their fingers and occasionally glancing up to check that the traffic in front is still moving.
Clearly they feel that what they're doing is fine, that they're entitled to do it and that they are safe drivers, oh yes.
Stop them, fine them, revoke their licences. It wouldn't take many before word got around.
Let's not wait until it becomes normal to stare at screens while driving - and unfashionable to complain about people doing it - and some morons say that any attempt to stop it would be a war on motorists. In the same way that going after people driving way over the speed limit is, apparently, a war on motorists.
There's only one war against motorists
And that's the one being waged by other motorists. Trying to get people to drive safely and within the law is not an example of the nanny state.
Go on - argue with me. I dare you.
Friday, 24 October 2014
Is it that time of year already?
No. Of course it isn't.
But tomorrow it will be exactly two months before Christmas and so, clearly, that must mean that smug people will start telling everyone who will listen that they've already done their Christmas shopping.
I'm not saying buy my books because they'd make excellent Christmas gifts. But only because you already know that so there's no point in telling you.
Just as you know that you should order them from me and get them signed and blah blah price match blah blah free shipping (UK only).
But maybe buy something from an independent craftsman or a local author or a market. Something made by the person who is selling it to you. Something that will definitely be different to every other gift the lucky recipient will, er, receive.
Maybe here if you're in south London. Or, for a little more money but a whole load of beautiful craftsmanship and design, how about one of these items?
Or recently (and lovingly) reprinted classics by a once famous Scottish writer?
Any other suggestions? Send them in and I'll add them.
But tomorrow it will be exactly two months before Christmas and so, clearly, that must mean that smug people will start telling everyone who will listen that they've already done their Christmas shopping.
I'm not saying buy my books because they'd make excellent Christmas gifts. But only because you already know that so there's no point in telling you.
Just as you know that you should order them from me and get them signed and blah blah price match blah blah free shipping (UK only).
But maybe buy something from an independent craftsman or a local author or a market. Something made by the person who is selling it to you. Something that will definitely be different to every other gift the lucky recipient will, er, receive.
Maybe here if you're in south London. Or, for a little more money but a whole load of beautiful craftsmanship and design, how about one of these items?
Or recently (and lovingly) reprinted classics by a once famous Scottish writer?
Any other suggestions? Send them in and I'll add them.
There's little point in pointless point-scoring
...but why not do it anyway?
For all those who wondered what it was like to wait several months and then receive something crushingly disappointing, I present to you...
A review from a proper literary professional!
It's about Timestand - my most successful children's book. Loved by literally many children and definitely plenty of adults too, even if you discount some of them as needy authors hoping for reciprocation. (I don't discount them like that. Too much cynicism is unhealthy).
It's probably not fair to name the publishing house or the editor so I won't. I've also removed one sentence which would identify them. However, I will comment on the review...
**** REVIEW BEGINS ****
I had a chance to look at this and wasn’t quite overwhelmed by what was here. I think the premise is really cute, but I have to admit, the synopsis really confused me, and I was disappointed that Tim’s dad played such a big roll (sic). I would have wanted Tim to really have another kid sidekick. I also didn’t understand quite understand (sic) Henry’s role.
I must say, though, my biggest concern came from the sample pages – I just didn’t feel like there was a strong voice there. Tim’s character wasn’t pulling me along and I didn’t feel like I knew him at all, which struck me as worrisome.
*** REVIEW ENDS ***
And this is what I think of that review
Firstly, I accept that the synopsis may well not be perfect but that is hardly a reason to reject a book - either it's worth reading or it isn't and the potential purchaser would never even see my attempt to reduce my whole book to a page.
Secondly, the main character does have a sidekick - in fact he has two - and they are both mentioned and named and described in the synopsis. Hmm - are you sure you actually read the synopsis which you're criticising?
Thirdly, why didn't you understand Henry's role? He's a fairly classic unhelpful shapeshifter type character whose motivation is left hanging in order to increase dramatic tension. It all comes out by the end and is reasonably spelt out in the synopsis.
Fourthly, the year 7 class which read the book LIKED the fact that the father had a role in the story. He's not a major character but he is there and, unlike Harry Potter, he's not dead. Do fathers have to be dead in YA fiction? Really? (And by the way, it's "role", not "roll".)
Fifthly, there is no come-back to a vague criticism about whether the voice was strong enough, nor is it possible to 'fix' this 'problem'. Does this mean that my whole writing style is no good and that I should find another career? If so, why not tell me that straight?
In conclusion - I know, it's petulant and childish to have a go at someone who bothered to provide more than a form letter and yet... Are these the people judging our work? No wonder all we seem to get are vampires and footballers' memoirs. I never said my book was a work of art or the best work of YA fiction ever written - but I have no difficulty saying it's no worse than a lot of drivel that's out there. With the backing of a publishing house (i.e. advertising), I reckon it would sell enough to at least pay for the advertising.
And it would make an excellent Christmas present too.
Yes, why not make up your own mind about it?
Order from the author - get it signed, free shipping (UK only) and price-matched with Amazon. Or get the e-book if you'd rather (but I won't be able to sign it).
For all those who wondered what it was like to wait several months and then receive something crushingly disappointing, I present to you...
A review from a proper literary professional!
It's about Timestand - my most successful children's book. Loved by literally many children and definitely plenty of adults too, even if you discount some of them as needy authors hoping for reciprocation. (I don't discount them like that. Too much cynicism is unhealthy).
It's probably not fair to name the publishing house or the editor so I won't. I've also removed one sentence which would identify them. However, I will comment on the review...
**** REVIEW BEGINS ****
I had a chance to look at this and wasn’t quite overwhelmed by what was here. I think the premise is really cute, but I have to admit, the synopsis really confused me, and I was disappointed that Tim’s dad played such a big roll (sic). I would have wanted Tim to really have another kid sidekick. I also didn’t understand quite understand (sic) Henry’s role.
I must say, though, my biggest concern came from the sample pages – I just didn’t feel like there was a strong voice there. Tim’s character wasn’t pulling me along and I didn’t feel like I knew him at all, which struck me as worrisome.
*** REVIEW ENDS ***
And this is what I think of that review
Firstly, I accept that the synopsis may well not be perfect but that is hardly a reason to reject a book - either it's worth reading or it isn't and the potential purchaser would never even see my attempt to reduce my whole book to a page.
Secondly, the main character does have a sidekick - in fact he has two - and they are both mentioned and named and described in the synopsis. Hmm - are you sure you actually read the synopsis which you're criticising?
Thirdly, why didn't you understand Henry's role? He's a fairly classic unhelpful shapeshifter type character whose motivation is left hanging in order to increase dramatic tension. It all comes out by the end and is reasonably spelt out in the synopsis.
Fourthly, the year 7 class which read the book LIKED the fact that the father had a role in the story. He's not a major character but he is there and, unlike Harry Potter, he's not dead. Do fathers have to be dead in YA fiction? Really? (And by the way, it's "role", not "roll".)
Fifthly, there is no come-back to a vague criticism about whether the voice was strong enough, nor is it possible to 'fix' this 'problem'. Does this mean that my whole writing style is no good and that I should find another career? If so, why not tell me that straight?
In conclusion - I know, it's petulant and childish to have a go at someone who bothered to provide more than a form letter and yet... Are these the people judging our work? No wonder all we seem to get are vampires and footballers' memoirs. I never said my book was a work of art or the best work of YA fiction ever written - but I have no difficulty saying it's no worse than a lot of drivel that's out there. With the backing of a publishing house (i.e. advertising), I reckon it would sell enough to at least pay for the advertising.
And it would make an excellent Christmas present too.
Yes, why not make up your own mind about it?
Order from the author - get it signed, free shipping (UK only) and price-matched with Amazon. Or get the e-book if you'd rather (but I won't be able to sign it).
Thursday, 16 October 2014
Paul Daniels and me - a brief history
Last night, I saw Paul Daniels & Debbie McGee performing at the Millfield Arts Centre Theatre in Edmonton as part of his 'Back... Despite Popular Demand' tour.
I went with S and N. The show started around N's bedtime and ended, clearly, far too late for her. But try telling her that. Gazing at the stage in wide-eyed wonder and talking about the show all the way home. (So much for sleeping in the car.)
I started watching Paul Daniels on television at about her age. I'm going to call him Paul from now on. Saves on the typing.
At the time, I didn't fully appreciate that most magicians worked in theatres and clubs, travelling around the country, taking their well-honed show to place after place, only needing new material when they started their next lap. Whereas Paul needed a new show every week.
No, I didn't think about that. My thoughts were more along the lines of "Wow!" and "How did he do that?" (more on that later) and "Can I buy some (all?) of his tricks from the toy shop?"
Yes, Iwas am a fan.
I still have the tricks - still in pristine condition (not because they haven't been used - believe me, they have been used - but because they're well made). But now they belong to N - although maybe I borrow them back occasionally.
First encounter
I think it was 1981. I've got the programme somewhere. Prince Of Wales Theatre in London's West End. I can't tell you about the whole show but I clearly remember the moment when my father was invited up on stage. (Maybe 'compelled' would be a better word.)
Paul asked my dad who he had come with. And then Paul mentioned my name. And, when you're eight or nine, that's utterly fantastic.
(Many years later, I discovered that was no accident. We know someone who slightly knew Paul (I forget how) and he wrote him a letter. I've seen a copy - it's with the programme that I've got somewhere. Part of it read something like "I'd be grateful if you could give him a mention because he spends so much time mentioning you".)
And after mentioning me, he then made my father leap out of a chair as though he'd been stung. And then he stuck him to it.
Second encounter
About ten years after the Prince of Wales theatre experience, Paul's television magic show finished. I can't imagine I was best pleased but I understand it must have been something of a relief for him.
(It would be interesting to know how many illusions and tricks he'd performed on television, compared to the number that most magicians perform over their entire career.)
And, about ten years after that, in 2003, I was in Edinburgh for the festival. And Paul was performing again - a smaller show, taking questions in the first half and performing magic in the second.
When he invited me to join him on stage I was so convinced he was talking to the person in the row in front, it took me a several moments to reply.
And he proceeded to make me leap out of a chair as thought I'd been stung. And then he stuck me to it.
How did he do it? More on that later.
Third encounter
At Penn & Teller's show, at the Hammersmith Apollo earlier this year, Paul was sitting a few seats away from me, in the same row. He actually came over to check with me about the seat numbers because they were small and faint and it was dark in there. I think he said something like "I didn't go to night school so I can't read the numbers."
I stupidly thought he'd come for the show and didn't want the attention so I just told him the numbers (I hope in a friendly way) and left him alone. He was then besieged before the show and in the interval by people wanting pictures, autographs or a chat - which he provided. If he wasn't enjoying that attention, you couldn't tell.
Incidentally, I wrote about that show earlier this year (see this page, scroll down a little).
Fourth encounter
Last night, Matt leapt out of a chair as though he'd been stung and was then stuck to it. And why not? He's performing his greatest hits, together with some new material and plenty of hilarity too.
He sat on the edge of the stage and performed a close-up trick that felt like it was just for three of us. (Yes, we were in the front row.)
And I hope he's enjoying performing the shows as much as he says he is. The audience was certainly enjoying watching him last night.
He missed the chance to get someone from a third generation of my family on stage.
But he asked N her name, got her to pick Matt and signed her programme afterwards. (Because he and Debbie came and sat in the foyer after the show for photographs, autographs and chats. A bit like Penn & Teller, as described here.)
Yes, yes but how does he do his tricks?
In his programme, Paul calls himself an actor who appears to defy the laws of physics and science. He calls the show a theatrical experience.
In Penn Jillette's book, he describes magicians who guard the secrets of their tricks being like people guarding an open and empty safe. He says we all know how the tricks are done.
So telling people that you know how the tricks are done is about as relevant as saying that it wasn't really Macbeth on stage - it was just an actor - and he didn't really kill anyone.
Penn also says that tricks are done in the only way they can be done. (For example, David Copperfield can't fly. So he must be on a wire. But how does he hide it?)
But the artistry isn't even really in the concealment - since, deep down, we normally know what's being concealed (e.g. he's dangling on a wire).
The 'trick' is to make an entertaining show that can make an audience gasp and applaud.
So, to answer the question, how does he do his tricks? Paul Daniels does his tricks using decades of practice and experience and a fast, sharp (but not cruel) wit.
Long may it continue. Thank you, Paul, for a great night out.
I went with S and N. The show started around N's bedtime and ended, clearly, far too late for her. But try telling her that. Gazing at the stage in wide-eyed wonder and talking about the show all the way home. (So much for sleeping in the car.)
I started watching Paul Daniels on television at about her age. I'm going to call him Paul from now on. Saves on the typing.
At the time, I didn't fully appreciate that most magicians worked in theatres and clubs, travelling around the country, taking their well-honed show to place after place, only needing new material when they started their next lap. Whereas Paul needed a new show every week.
No, I didn't think about that. My thoughts were more along the lines of "Wow!" and "How did he do that?" (more on that later) and "Can I buy some (all?) of his tricks from the toy shop?"
Yes, I
I still have the tricks - still in pristine condition (not because they haven't been used - believe me, they have been used - but because they're well made). But now they belong to N - although maybe I borrow them back occasionally.
First encounter
I think it was 1981. I've got the programme somewhere. Prince Of Wales Theatre in London's West End. I can't tell you about the whole show but I clearly remember the moment when my father was invited up on stage. (Maybe 'compelled' would be a better word.)
Paul asked my dad who he had come with. And then Paul mentioned my name. And, when you're eight or nine, that's utterly fantastic.
(Many years later, I discovered that was no accident. We know someone who slightly knew Paul (I forget how) and he wrote him a letter. I've seen a copy - it's with the programme that I've got somewhere. Part of it read something like "I'd be grateful if you could give him a mention because he spends so much time mentioning you".)
And after mentioning me, he then made my father leap out of a chair as though he'd been stung. And then he stuck him to it.
Second encounter
About ten years after the Prince of Wales theatre experience, Paul's television magic show finished. I can't imagine I was best pleased but I understand it must have been something of a relief for him.
(It would be interesting to know how many illusions and tricks he'd performed on television, compared to the number that most magicians perform over their entire career.)
And, about ten years after that, in 2003, I was in Edinburgh for the festival. And Paul was performing again - a smaller show, taking questions in the first half and performing magic in the second.
When he invited me to join him on stage I was so convinced he was talking to the person in the row in front, it took me a several moments to reply.
And he proceeded to make me leap out of a chair as thought I'd been stung. And then he stuck me to it.
How did he do it? More on that later.
Third encounter
At Penn & Teller's show, at the Hammersmith Apollo earlier this year, Paul was sitting a few seats away from me, in the same row. He actually came over to check with me about the seat numbers because they were small and faint and it was dark in there. I think he said something like "I didn't go to night school so I can't read the numbers."
I stupidly thought he'd come for the show and didn't want the attention so I just told him the numbers (I hope in a friendly way) and left him alone. He was then besieged before the show and in the interval by people wanting pictures, autographs or a chat - which he provided. If he wasn't enjoying that attention, you couldn't tell.
Incidentally, I wrote about that show earlier this year (see this page, scroll down a little).
Fourth encounter
Last night, Matt leapt out of a chair as though he'd been stung and was then stuck to it. And why not? He's performing his greatest hits, together with some new material and plenty of hilarity too.
He sat on the edge of the stage and performed a close-up trick that felt like it was just for three of us. (Yes, we were in the front row.)
And I hope he's enjoying performing the shows as much as he says he is. The audience was certainly enjoying watching him last night.
He missed the chance to get someone from a third generation of my family on stage.
But he asked N her name, got her to pick Matt and signed her programme afterwards. (Because he and Debbie came and sat in the foyer after the show for photographs, autographs and chats. A bit like Penn & Teller, as described here.)
Yes, yes but how does he do his tricks?
In his programme, Paul calls himself an actor who appears to defy the laws of physics and science. He calls the show a theatrical experience.
In Penn Jillette's book, he describes magicians who guard the secrets of their tricks being like people guarding an open and empty safe. He says we all know how the tricks are done.
So telling people that you know how the tricks are done is about as relevant as saying that it wasn't really Macbeth on stage - it was just an actor - and he didn't really kill anyone.
But the artistry isn't even really in the concealment - since, deep down, we normally know what's being concealed (e.g. he's dangling on a wire).
The 'trick' is to make an entertaining show that can make an audience gasp and applaud.
So, to answer the question, how does he do his tricks? Paul Daniels does his tricks using decades of practice and experience and a fast, sharp (but not cruel) wit.
Long may it continue. Thank you, Paul, for a great night out.
Friday, 10 October 2014
Two ill-advised signs
But on a shop selling ladies' clothing? Forgive the sweeping generalisations but don't women often go clothes-shopping in groups? (Often, not always, of course.)
How long do you give them?
The creator of this one thought:
1) Under 16's have trouble with small print
2) The elderly like to receive instructions from a pirate.Thursday, 2 October 2014
Oh, there's money in self-publishing all right...
Self-publishing? It's an industry awash with cash - right there for the taking. No, not there... there! No, not quite, left a bit.
And I'm not talking about 50 Shades Of Grey. Or 50 Sheds Of Grey. Or the one that clearly illustrates fifty shades of the colour grey by printing fifty pages using progressively more ink.
No. Don't get the money from the readers because they're discerning and always looking for a bargain (i.e. trying not to pay).
Get the money from the writers. Yes, the writers. The ones with the gleam in their eyes and the fervour in their souls and the fever on their brows.
In the good old days
In the good old days, an author would send the latest manuscript to a publisher who would rapidly thank him for his consideration, order a print run and send him a large cheque.
Obviously that never happened. But the truth was closer to that wondrous fantasy than to today's reality.
In the bad new days
Publishers don't want to hear from writers. (Except vanity publishers. I'll come on to them. Probably best to pretend it's all one word, vanitypublisher, since they're really NOT the same as publishers.)
Publishers want to hear from literary agents.
But some literary agents don't want to hear from writers. They want to hear from creative writing course tutors.
Yes, for only £££ or $$$ or €€€, an academic institution near you will give you the keys to... er... a room (actually you don't get the keys) where a (probably non bestselling) author-tutor will encourage you to write a bit better by... er... thinking more about your writing and discussing it with other authors-in-training.
And doing a lot of reading so you find out what proper writing looks like. (You know, the sort that gets printed by proper publishers, which must be good because it sells. Well, it sells better than books that don't get printed, or that don't get printed by publishers who have access to shops.)
Then, once the years of training have passed, and the fees have been paid, the agents may well read your work.
Money-go-round
Sometimes publishers themselves - or literary agents themselves - run the creative writing courses! Happy days for all concerned.
Except the writer. Will someone think of the writer? Or the reader - because I don't see their views particularly represented here either.
Yes, I know that writers are readers. But most readers aren't writers.
But how else can people learn how to write?
An excellent question.
It's lucky that these courses exist now because, until they all started a decade or two ago, there wasn't anything half-decent to read.
It was all populist claptrap like Jeffrey Archer and Charles Dickens and William Shakespeare and Jonathan Swift and Douglas Adams and David Lodge and John Irving and stuff like that.
You see, if Kazuo Ishiguro and Ian McEwan hadn't attended the University of East Anglia, they would never have amounted to anything?
Or would they? Actually, I think they would.
I suspect that what they learned on the course was how to do the sort of polishing that a good editor at a publishing house would have previously provided as part of the service. But how much more juicy to get the author to pay to learn to do the work himself rather than expect the publisher to include it in the service offered in return for a hefty share of the profits in perpetuity.
And anyone who needs to learn how to do much more than that isn't going to get anywhere anyway. So, all of a sudden, you're selling the service to far more people. I think the word to use here is kerching.
Vanitypublishing
Not a typo. As I explained above - it's all one word now.
The old fashioned way to extract money from authors. Get them to buy a job-lot of copies of their book which probably won't sell but, hey, the money (and profit) is banked up-front by the vanitypublisher. If it sells a few as well then that's more money in the bank, a small dribble of which will be paid on to the creator of the book. You remember him - the person who laboured for years to arrange all the right words in the right order.
Radio 4's 'You and Yours' yesterday carried a piece about an American vanitypublisher who appeared to have perfected this process.
According to the programme, the authors paid for a service that wasn't entirely delivered and the royalties weren't passed on either. Fortunately for the company in question, they decided they didn't have to be bound by British law (against, presumably, something like theft, fraud, deception, incompetence, etc) and so just ignored a judgement against them. Come sue us in America was, I assume, their retort to these undeserving writers. Yeah, cos that's going to happen.
You can hear it for yourself here: http://t.co/XIwF36iWQu
Join me
In keeping with the modern style, I hereby announce my own creative writing course. At a cost of merely (to be determined), I will allow all members of the course to meet up at a time of their own choosing in order to read each other's work and comment on it.
Occasionally I'll swan in and say things like "show don't tell" and "that not which" and "active not passive" and, if you're really lucky, I'll give a short symposium on the correct placing of apostrophes. All coursework will be based on my own writing to be read from the special edition luxury hardback editions available only through me at a cost of merely (to be determined).
You h'eard it here first.
Don't get mad, get bitter.
UPDATE - 10 October 2014
I've just been reading the long and detailed programme of events and courses and seminars offered by one publisher.
Forgive me - I'm not going to name them. It might impact on me later in my professional life. Clearly nothing I'm writing here is actionable so it's not fear of the legal process.
On the other hand, who cares? They're Chicken House.
It's £50 to get started. Then, if your work is of sufficient merit, it's £150 for the next bit, then £375 or £100 or £250 for the third. Then there's a menu of courses for various prices.
I assume that everything they tell you is honest and helpful and constructive. Why wouldn't it be?
But...
Let's back up a little here.
A publishing house should be publishing books. Clue's in the name. This means finding new writers and encouraging writers they already know. There is no point in taking on a writer unless they are confident that there's an audience for their work. I don't think there's anything contentious in this paragraph.
If they think the author's work has legs then they should put their company's money where its mouth is (if you'll excuse the metaphor mixing). If the work will be successful then the publishing house will do very nicely from the sales. Why soak the author upfront? Will these fees be subtracted from the publishing house's margin on the eventual sales? No? Thought not.
And if they don't think the author's work has merit then they're simply running a creative writing course with no promise of anything else. There's nothing wrong with running a creative writing course with no promise of anything else. I'm not suggesting false pretences.
(Although wasn't the original £50 supposed to weed out those authors whose work wasn't good enough?)
But by implying that there's some selection, some control over who is allowed to attend the course, especially when the company is a publisher, the author may have expectations that this is going to go somewhere.
Overall, the author is being shown the cake. But he can't have it or eat it. The publisher is going to eat it for him. In front of him.
Or her.
And I'm not talking about 50 Shades Of Grey. Or 50 Sheds Of Grey. Or the one that clearly illustrates fifty shades of the colour grey by printing fifty pages using progressively more ink.
No. Don't get the money from the readers because they're discerning and always looking for a bargain (i.e. trying not to pay).
Get the money from the writers. Yes, the writers. The ones with the gleam in their eyes and the fervour in their souls and the fever on their brows.
In the good old days
In the good old days, an author would send the latest manuscript to a publisher who would rapidly thank him for his consideration, order a print run and send him a large cheque.
Obviously that never happened. But the truth was closer to that wondrous fantasy than to today's reality.
In the bad new days
Publishers don't want to hear from writers. (Except vanity publishers. I'll come on to them. Probably best to pretend it's all one word, vanitypublisher, since they're really NOT the same as publishers.)
Publishers want to hear from literary agents.
But some literary agents don't want to hear from writers. They want to hear from creative writing course tutors.
Yes, for only £££ or $$$ or €€€, an academic institution near you will give you the keys to... er... a room (actually you don't get the keys) where a (probably non bestselling) author-tutor will encourage you to write a bit better by... er... thinking more about your writing and discussing it with other authors-in-training.
And doing a lot of reading so you find out what proper writing looks like. (You know, the sort that gets printed by proper publishers, which must be good because it sells. Well, it sells better than books that don't get printed, or that don't get printed by publishers who have access to shops.)
Then, once the years of training have passed, and the fees have been paid, the agents may well read your work.
Money-go-round
Sometimes publishers themselves - or literary agents themselves - run the creative writing courses! Happy days for all concerned.
Except the writer. Will someone think of the writer? Or the reader - because I don't see their views particularly represented here either.
Yes, I know that writers are readers. But most readers aren't writers.
But how else can people learn how to write?
An excellent question.
It's lucky that these courses exist now because, until they all started a decade or two ago, there wasn't anything half-decent to read.
It was all populist claptrap like Jeffrey Archer and Charles Dickens and William Shakespeare and Jonathan Swift and Douglas Adams and David Lodge and John Irving and stuff like that.
You see, if Kazuo Ishiguro and Ian McEwan hadn't attended the University of East Anglia, they would never have amounted to anything?
Or would they? Actually, I think they would.
I suspect that what they learned on the course was how to do the sort of polishing that a good editor at a publishing house would have previously provided as part of the service. But how much more juicy to get the author to pay to learn to do the work himself rather than expect the publisher to include it in the service offered in return for a hefty share of the profits in perpetuity.
And anyone who needs to learn how to do much more than that isn't going to get anywhere anyway. So, all of a sudden, you're selling the service to far more people. I think the word to use here is kerching.
Vanitypublishing
Not a typo. As I explained above - it's all one word now.
The old fashioned way to extract money from authors. Get them to buy a job-lot of copies of their book which probably won't sell but, hey, the money (and profit) is banked up-front by the vanitypublisher. If it sells a few as well then that's more money in the bank, a small dribble of which will be paid on to the creator of the book. You remember him - the person who laboured for years to arrange all the right words in the right order.
Radio 4's 'You and Yours' yesterday carried a piece about an American vanitypublisher who appeared to have perfected this process.
According to the programme, the authors paid for a service that wasn't entirely delivered and the royalties weren't passed on either. Fortunately for the company in question, they decided they didn't have to be bound by British law (against, presumably, something like theft, fraud, deception, incompetence, etc) and so just ignored a judgement against them. Come sue us in America was, I assume, their retort to these undeserving writers. Yeah, cos that's going to happen.
You can hear it for yourself here: http://t.co/XIwF36iWQu
Join me
In keeping with the modern style, I hereby announce my own creative writing course. At a cost of merely (to be determined), I will allow all members of the course to meet up at a time of their own choosing in order to read each other's work and comment on it.
Occasionally I'll swan in and say things like "show don't tell" and "that not which" and "active not passive" and, if you're really lucky, I'll give a short symposium on the correct placing of apostrophes. All coursework will be based on my own writing to be read from the special edition luxury hardback editions available only through me at a cost of merely (to be determined).
You h'eard it here first.
Don't get mad, get bitter.
UPDATE - 10 October 2014
I've just been reading the long and detailed programme of events and courses and seminars offered by one publisher.
Forgive me - I'm not going to name them. It might impact on me later in my professional life. Clearly nothing I'm writing here is actionable so it's not fear of the legal process.
On the other hand, who cares? They're Chicken House.
It's £50 to get started. Then, if your work is of sufficient merit, it's £150 for the next bit, then £375 or £100 or £250 for the third. Then there's a menu of courses for various prices.
I assume that everything they tell you is honest and helpful and constructive. Why wouldn't it be?
But...
Let's back up a little here.
A publishing house should be publishing books. Clue's in the name. This means finding new writers and encouraging writers they already know. There is no point in taking on a writer unless they are confident that there's an audience for their work. I don't think there's anything contentious in this paragraph.
If they think the author's work has legs then they should put their company's money where its mouth is (if you'll excuse the metaphor mixing). If the work will be successful then the publishing house will do very nicely from the sales. Why soak the author upfront? Will these fees be subtracted from the publishing house's margin on the eventual sales? No? Thought not.
And if they don't think the author's work has merit then they're simply running a creative writing course with no promise of anything else. There's nothing wrong with running a creative writing course with no promise of anything else. I'm not suggesting false pretences.
(Although wasn't the original £50 supposed to weed out those authors whose work wasn't good enough?)
But by implying that there's some selection, some control over who is allowed to attend the course, especially when the company is a publisher, the author may have expectations that this is going to go somewhere.
Overall, the author is being shown the cake. But he can't have it or eat it. The publisher is going to eat it for him. In front of him.
Or her.
Sunday, 28 September 2014
On not knowing how to say 'no' now
For this sunny Sunday, I offer you a brief tale of supplication and mild disrespect
22 October 2013
Wrote to literary agency to ask if they would like to represent me in my ongoing
Not an arbitrary pick of an agency from a Google search. Oh no. Not one bit.
Targeted. Oh yes. My work has been favourably compared with the writing of someone they already represent. And that favourable comparison was by a proper literature professional.
Included samples of work, potted history of my writing career - its ups, its downs, its smiles, its frowns. Well, mainly the ups and the smiles.
Bigged up the link to their current client.
Website
1 January 2014
Wrote again. Said this:
I sent a couple of extracts from my writing a little while ago. We're a little bit over the six weeks suggested by your website.Maybe I should have waited till 2 January.
But I know these things take time and I'm not trying to rush you.
It's just a gentle enquiry to check that my work ended up on the right desk and to ask whether you'd like me to send anything else.
Best wishes and happy new year,
8 January 2014
Received first reply:
Thank you for your email. I apologise for the delay, there is always a little bit of a backlog over the Christmas period but you should expect to hear very soon.
13 September 2014
Okay, I took my eye off the ball on this one. I probably should have chased it sooner. But I think my sin of failing to chase up is lesser than their sin of [I can't decide - pick one for yourself and insert it here].
I wrote this:
I sent some samples of my writing last October. And, in January, I wrote to check they had found their way to the right person.
A long time has passed since then!
I'm not impatient - as long as you can reassure me that someone will consider my work at some point, that's fine. But I'd hate to think that it had been lost and never read.
If you need me to resend anything, please let me know. Otherwise, I hope you can give me at least a guess of when I might hear back from you.
(Okay, there's a lie in that email. Did you spot it? It was the bit where I wrote "I'm not impatient".)
I'd love them to write back and say that...
- they had prepared a letter offering representation and setting out terms!
- that the letter must have been lost in the post!
- here's one by email instead!
Really, I would.
But, if that's not the case, they really just need to say 'no' now.
If I don't get a reply by 22 October 2015 (our two year anniversary - gifts are cotton or paper depending on whether you follow the US or UK customs), I will name them.
It's not much of a threat, is it?
UPDATE - 3 October 2014
No reply yet.
Tomorrow will be three weeks since a polite request for them to even acknowledge that their response is very overdue.
Monday, 8 September 2014
Jacqueline Wilson without sour grapes
I haven't criticised J K Rowling and I'm not going to criticise Jacqueline Wilson either. They've both encouraged children to read and, not that it's any of my business, both seem to be thoroughly decent people.
Right - now that's out of the way, there's no excuse for anyone to misinterpret anything that follows as sour grapes, envy or any other sin (deadly or otherwise).
There's an exhibition right now at the V&A Museum of Childhood (in London) called "Daydreams and Diaries : The Story of Jacqueline Wilson".
I've been. I enjoyed it.
It only runs till 2 November 2014 so bear that in mind if you're reading this on 3 November 2014 or later.
An excellent and well-loved author providing material for a (free) exhibition about her life and work which will, I suspect, encourage more children to read. This is all good.
Sure - she'll sell a few more books through the gift shop. But why not? (See above comment about encouraging reading.)
But.
I'm not going to retract or recant anything I've already written. And I'm not (only) talking about myself here.
There are countless children's authors who could use that sort of exposure. And JW certainly doesn't need it.
Then again - why should a (free) museum run a (free) exhibition about the life and work of an unknown author? How many people will it welcome through its doors? How much merchandise will it sell? How many pots of tea?
JW isn't the main beneficiary here - it's the museum that will boost its visitor numbers (does that help with funding?) as well as sales of food, drink and knick-knacks.
Is there any answer to this one? Maybe not.
Sure, the museum or JW could pick a lesser-known author and exhibit them alongside. How crushing would that be for the chosen one - getting a career start via a ride on some generous (and effective) coat-tails?
Some would still take the humiliation. How much humiliation would a typical author (what's that?) take in order to actually get their work into the hands of more than a handful (ouch) of readers?
Maybe more than you'd think. I would. No, really.
Okay, from this point on I'm definitely only talking about me.
I never said I was writing the greatest literature. But I've always maintained that while better books are published to great acclaim, so are a distressingly large number that are hideously rubbish. And, as such, my books have as much right to prominence as any book with a mainstream publisher's logo on its spine.
I wouldn't say that my books are better or worse than JW's - I'll leave that to others.
The problem I have is marketing - a lack of disposable funds to spend on advertising, a lack of ability to gain traction in word-of-mouth.
But I'd have no problem with increasing sales through exposure via a leg-up from a celebrated author.
If I didn't think my books were good enough, I'd be uncomfortable doing so. But if I didn't think my books were good enough, I wouldn't still be writing about them. I'd be rewriting them.
Right - now that's out of the way, there's no excuse for anyone to misinterpret anything that follows as sour grapes, envy or any other sin (deadly or otherwise).
There's an exhibition right now at the V&A Museum of Childhood (in London) called "Daydreams and Diaries : The Story of Jacqueline Wilson".
I've been. I enjoyed it.
It only runs till 2 November 2014 so bear that in mind if you're reading this on 3 November 2014 or later.
An excellent and well-loved author providing material for a (free) exhibition about her life and work which will, I suspect, encourage more children to read. This is all good.
Sure - she'll sell a few more books through the gift shop. But why not? (See above comment about encouraging reading.)
But.
I'm not going to retract or recant anything I've already written. And I'm not (only) talking about myself here.
There are countless children's authors who could use that sort of exposure. And JW certainly doesn't need it.
Then again - why should a (free) museum run a (free) exhibition about the life and work of an unknown author? How many people will it welcome through its doors? How much merchandise will it sell? How many pots of tea?
JW isn't the main beneficiary here - it's the museum that will boost its visitor numbers (does that help with funding?) as well as sales of food, drink and knick-knacks.
Is there any answer to this one? Maybe not.
Sure, the museum or JW could pick a lesser-known author and exhibit them alongside. How crushing would that be for the chosen one - getting a career start via a ride on some generous (and effective) coat-tails?
Some would still take the humiliation. How much humiliation would a typical author (what's that?) take in order to actually get their work into the hands of more than a handful (ouch) of readers?
Maybe more than you'd think. I would. No, really.
Okay, from this point on I'm definitely only talking about me.
I never said I was writing the greatest literature. But I've always maintained that while better books are published to great acclaim, so are a distressingly large number that are hideously rubbish. And, as such, my books have as much right to prominence as any book with a mainstream publisher's logo on its spine.
I wouldn't say that my books are better or worse than JW's - I'll leave that to others.
The problem I have is marketing - a lack of disposable funds to spend on advertising, a lack of ability to gain traction in word-of-mouth.
But I'd have no problem with increasing sales through exposure via a leg-up from a celebrated author.
If I didn't think my books were good enough, I'd be uncomfortable doing so. But if I didn't think my books were good enough, I wouldn't still be writing about them. I'd be rewriting them.
Tuesday, 1 July 2014
On criticism, gratitude and grace
Recently, I sent paperbacks of my two short story collections to a reviewer. He regularly writes for a major journal. (Unless he tells me otherwise, I'll assume he'd rather not be named here.)
And late last night he sent me an email. (Simply by doing this, he is in the upper echelons - you'd be appalled by the number who never respond.)
My books weren't to his taste and he wouldn't be looking to review them. Fair enough. Clear, polite, to the point. Not leaving me hanging. You can't please everyone, etc.
But then he wrote feedback. Long, generous feedback. Questions and thoughts and suggestions and advice. This is beautifully generous and I am grateful.
Had I thought about...? Why had I chosen that structure? Why slow the story down with ... when it should be quickened with ...?
I have answers to all of these questions. Sometimes I had thought about that very point when constructing the story. Sometimes I didn't but I still prefer the way I wrote it. Sometimes I agree entirely.
But who cares? He's not trying to 'beat' me. I don't have to try to 'win'. My 'answers' to his questions are utterly and totally irrelevant. He's not telling me to rewrite the book.
He's helping me to write a better book next time. He still might not like it. And that would be fine - because you can't please everyone, etc.
And the big, heartening point I take from all of this is that he felt it was worth his time. So I'll extrapolate from that to infer that he doesn't think I'm wasting my time. Or that reading my books wasted his.
Thank you. (If you read this, you know who you are.)
Elsewhere
Recently, I finished reading NW by Zadie Smith.
I wanted to like it. I tried to like it. Really I did. There was something compelling but, I have to admit, an awful lot that I found deeply irritating. I finished it though. (Didn't like the ending much.)
Maybe I only like the odd ones (the luminous White Teeth, the fabulous On Beauty).
But I'm not trying to write a proper review here. (Just as well.)
The outside cover, the inside cover, the opening pages - they're all plastered with as many reviews as anyone could want. (All positive, of course. Maybe it takes a different sort of author to promote books with the negative ones.)
And there, in the centre of the back cover, is A. N. Wilson's opinion. Just after he compares her to Dickens, he writes...
I find this hilarious in any number of ways. I have read some books I have enjoyed immensely and yet I've never felt it hard to imagine that in the ten years that follow, I might read something I enjoyed more.
If you spot him waxing lyrical about any other book before 2022, perhaps try to ask him whether he has to retract his NW review yet.
And late last night he sent me an email. (Simply by doing this, he is in the upper echelons - you'd be appalled by the number who never respond.)
My books weren't to his taste and he wouldn't be looking to review them. Fair enough. Clear, polite, to the point. Not leaving me hanging. You can't please everyone, etc.
But then he wrote feedback. Long, generous feedback. Questions and thoughts and suggestions and advice. This is beautifully generous and I am grateful.
Had I thought about...? Why had I chosen that structure? Why slow the story down with ... when it should be quickened with ...?
I have answers to all of these questions. Sometimes I had thought about that very point when constructing the story. Sometimes I didn't but I still prefer the way I wrote it. Sometimes I agree entirely.
But who cares? He's not trying to 'beat' me. I don't have to try to 'win'. My 'answers' to his questions are utterly and totally irrelevant. He's not telling me to rewrite the book.
He's helping me to write a better book next time. He still might not like it. And that would be fine - because you can't please everyone, etc.
And the big, heartening point I take from all of this is that he felt it was worth his time. So I'll extrapolate from that to infer that he doesn't think I'm wasting my time. Or that reading my books wasted his.
Thank you. (If you read this, you know who you are.)
Elsewhere
Recently, I finished reading NW by Zadie Smith.
I wanted to like it. I tried to like it. Really I did. There was something compelling but, I have to admit, an awful lot that I found deeply irritating. I finished it though. (Didn't like the ending much.)
Maybe I only like the odd ones (the luminous White Teeth, the fabulous On Beauty).
But I'm not trying to write a proper review here. (Just as well.)
The outside cover, the inside cover, the opening pages - they're all plastered with as many reviews as anyone could want. (All positive, of course. Maybe it takes a different sort of author to promote books with the negative ones.)
And there, in the centre of the back cover, is A. N. Wilson's opinion. Just after he compares her to Dickens, he writes...
"it's hard to imagine a better novel this year - or this decade"
I find this hilarious in any number of ways. I have read some books I have enjoyed immensely and yet I've never felt it hard to imagine that in the ten years that follow, I might read something I enjoyed more.
If you spot him waxing lyrical about any other book before 2022, perhaps try to ask him whether he has to retract his NW review yet.
Wednesday, 25 June 2014
Basic economics ~OR~ what sort of world do you want to live in?
Scenario 1
You're driving. Around and around. You don't want to be driving. You want to be parking because you're late (you're late, for a very important date, etc).
And there's a space. It's a good one. Not too much traffic so you can reverse parallel park and whoosh you're done. Snug against the kerb but not squashing your tyres. You get out of the car. You're fumbling for coins for the meter...
Man in a car far more expensive than yours pulls up alongside your car. He leans out of the window.
"Hey buddy," he calls. "I'll give you fifty quid for the space." He has the fifty pound note in his hand.
Well, there'll be another space eventually. And that'll pay for dinner. Thanks very much.
And harm done here?
San Francisco has just banned a smartphone app that allows people to auction off their parking spaces and wait for the 'winner' to arrive before they pull out. Here's the story on the BBC news website.
In the original scenario, you were offered a cash incentive to give up your place in a (chaotic) queue. Presumably the fifty pounds is utterly trivial to the man who paid it - but you're sufficiently tempted. Would San Francisco view that as akin to an 'auction of public land'? Or does it only become illegal when a third party tries to organise it for you?
What's the problem? It's only queue jumping for the rich. Except it slightly destroys the whole idea of a queue. And, being British, I clearly could write a (very boring) book on queuing.
Scenario 2
Penn & Teller put on an excellent, entertaining, funny, surprising, warm-hearted and hugely enjoyable show at the Hammersmith Apollo last week. In my opinion. But I was there so my opinion is valid...
Unless they've extended the run, they were due to perform five shows. I think the house was full - and I assume it was full every night. That's about 18,000 people in those audiences. They could have performed ONE night at the Dome (you can call it the O2 arena if you like) because it has a capacity of 20,000.
That way they can 'service' the same audience more 'efficiently' and take the other four nights off.
Or they could charge twice as much. If we (arbitrarily) assume that makes it too expensive for about a third of the audience, they could then perform three nights at Hammersmith, make about the same amount of money, and have two nights off.
They don't do either of these things because (and I'm making an assumption here) they LIKE THEIR AUDIENCE. You can tell this by the way that they run outside the theatre after the show and stand on the pavement for ages and ages and ages chatting to people.
They don't want to put people off by charging more, or give people a worse view by performing in a huge venue.
Last time Barbra Streisand appeared in London, she performed at the Dome. Wasn't it for one night? Didn't the tickets cost between £100 (for a seat a long, long way away) and £500 (for a seat near enough to be sure it's actually her)? (I'll correct those if someone can give me the right numbers.)
Which act do you think enjoys performing? And which is just trying to milk the richest fans for as much as they can get away with?
Scenario 3
A busy day at Legoland. You're standing in a queue for a ride. You've been there about an hour, gradually shuffling forward. You've paid well over £100 to get your family into the park, even with a voucher that you got off a packet of detergent.
You're nearly at the front but then... Nope, you're in the next batch because fifteen people have just arrived at the front of the queue with a machine they bought that guarantees them as much queue-jumping as they like. That machine cost them more (per person) than the entry to the park. But, for them, this is a trivial amount of money.
Is this a fair way to run a park? Legoland took the money but you're expected (required?) to let them have your space.
Let's go back to scenario 1. The rich man gives his fifty pound note to a policeman who orders you to move your car. How do you feel now? Isn't that what Legoland is doing?
Waiting used to be the big equaliser. Doesn't matter who you are or how rich you are, there are certain places where you just have to wait your turn. Not any more.
You might argue that I've given trivial examples. In areas where it matters (e.g. healthcare), the rich have always been able to throw money at the situation and be seen almost immediately by the physician of their choice.
And what's so important about waiting your turn anyway? Maybe because a culture of entitlement, where the people with the deepest pockets and the sharpest elbows get what they want while the rest get nudged to one side - maybe that's not something I feel our species should aspire to.
But what sort of world do you want to live in?
You're driving. Around and around. You don't want to be driving. You want to be parking because you're late (you're late, for a very important date, etc).
And there's a space. It's a good one. Not too much traffic so you can reverse parallel park and whoosh you're done. Snug against the kerb but not squashing your tyres. You get out of the car. You're fumbling for coins for the meter...
Man in a car far more expensive than yours pulls up alongside your car. He leans out of the window.
"Hey buddy," he calls. "I'll give you fifty quid for the space." He has the fifty pound note in his hand.
Well, there'll be another space eventually. And that'll pay for dinner. Thanks very much.
And harm done here?
San Francisco has just banned a smartphone app that allows people to auction off their parking spaces and wait for the 'winner' to arrive before they pull out. Here's the story on the BBC news website.
In the original scenario, you were offered a cash incentive to give up your place in a (chaotic) queue. Presumably the fifty pounds is utterly trivial to the man who paid it - but you're sufficiently tempted. Would San Francisco view that as akin to an 'auction of public land'? Or does it only become illegal when a third party tries to organise it for you?
What's the problem? It's only queue jumping for the rich. Except it slightly destroys the whole idea of a queue. And, being British, I clearly could write a (very boring) book on queuing.
Scenario 2
Penn & Teller put on an excellent, entertaining, funny, surprising, warm-hearted and hugely enjoyable show at the Hammersmith Apollo last week. In my opinion. But I was there so my opinion is valid...
Unless they've extended the run, they were due to perform five shows. I think the house was full - and I assume it was full every night. That's about 18,000 people in those audiences. They could have performed ONE night at the Dome (you can call it the O2 arena if you like) because it has a capacity of 20,000.
That way they can 'service' the same audience more 'efficiently' and take the other four nights off.
Or they could charge twice as much. If we (arbitrarily) assume that makes it too expensive for about a third of the audience, they could then perform three nights at Hammersmith, make about the same amount of money, and have two nights off.
They don't do either of these things because (and I'm making an assumption here) they LIKE THEIR AUDIENCE. You can tell this by the way that they run outside the theatre after the show and stand on the pavement for ages and ages and ages chatting to people.
They don't want to put people off by charging more, or give people a worse view by performing in a huge venue.
Last time Barbra Streisand appeared in London, she performed at the Dome. Wasn't it for one night? Didn't the tickets cost between £100 (for a seat a long, long way away) and £500 (for a seat near enough to be sure it's actually her)? (I'll correct those if someone can give me the right numbers.)
Which act do you think enjoys performing? And which is just trying to milk the richest fans for as much as they can get away with?
Scenario 3
A busy day at Legoland. You're standing in a queue for a ride. You've been there about an hour, gradually shuffling forward. You've paid well over £100 to get your family into the park, even with a voucher that you got off a packet of detergent.
You're nearly at the front but then... Nope, you're in the next batch because fifteen people have just arrived at the front of the queue with a machine they bought that guarantees them as much queue-jumping as they like. That machine cost them more (per person) than the entry to the park. But, for them, this is a trivial amount of money.
Is this a fair way to run a park? Legoland took the money but you're expected (required?) to let them have your space.
Let's go back to scenario 1. The rich man gives his fifty pound note to a policeman who orders you to move your car. How do you feel now? Isn't that what Legoland is doing?
Waiting used to be the big equaliser. Doesn't matter who you are or how rich you are, there are certain places where you just have to wait your turn. Not any more.
You might argue that I've given trivial examples. In areas where it matters (e.g. healthcare), the rich have always been able to throw money at the situation and be seen almost immediately by the physician of their choice.
And what's so important about waiting your turn anyway? Maybe because a culture of entitlement, where the people with the deepest pockets and the sharpest elbows get what they want while the rest get nudged to one side - maybe that's not something I feel our species should aspire to.
But what sort of world do you want to live in?
Friday, 6 June 2014
Joke workshop
Challenge for the weekend: tweak the wording of this joke to make it hilarious. Instead of just being very funny as it is now.
Life is like working on the Crossrail project. Most of it is boring. Occasionally you get to step out for some fresh air and you wonder where you are. And how you got there.
Life is like working on the Crossrail project. Most of it is boring. Occasionally you get to step out for some fresh air and you wonder where you are. And how you got there.
Tuesday, 20 May 2014
Tumbleweed
Some of you will have become accustomed to enjoying this blog in the first part of the week.
And some of that some of you might be wondering why I so rarely write anything here in the second half of the week.
But you might feel let down that nothing appeared yesterday. And today's entry is so short.
Rest assured - no calamity has befallen me.
I've been working. Real, proper (paid) work. And I still am.
Given that this is taking me less than five minutes to knock up (and I'll make up the time this evening, honest), I don't think we need to worry about my professionalism.
If you kind people would have a whip round and pay me my usual day-rate (price on application), I'll consider jacking in the other writing and entertaining you here full-time.
But, until that happy day comes, there will be days off. Like this one.
And I'm not explaining why I so rarely blog in the second half of the week. Those who know me will know already. And, for the rest of you, sorry!
P.S. If several hundred million of you you click on the ads then I might be able to eke a living from just writing this. Why not try it as an experiment?
And some of that some of you might be wondering why I so rarely write anything here in the second half of the week.
But you might feel let down that nothing appeared yesterday. And today's entry is so short.
Rest assured - no calamity has befallen me.
I've been working. Real, proper (paid) work. And I still am.
Given that this is taking me less than five minutes to knock up (and I'll make up the time this evening, honest), I don't think we need to worry about my professionalism.
If you kind people would have a whip round and pay me my usual day-rate (price on application), I'll consider jacking in the other writing and entertaining you here full-time.
But, until that happy day comes, there will be days off. Like this one.
And I'm not explaining why I so rarely blog in the second half of the week. Those who know me will know already. And, for the rest of you, sorry!
P.S. If several hundred million of you you click on the ads then I might be able to eke a living from just writing this. Why not try it as an experiment?
Wednesday, 14 May 2014
Rubbish, trash, detritus and journalism
I was sitting in the waiting room. The dentist would see me next.
Another man was waiting. He was reading The Daily Rubbish. (I know, it's juvenile. But I've stopped giving links to lousy news outlets.)
All of a sudden - and I'm not sure if he was addressing me, the receptionist or himself - he declared that using a mobile phone for more than [who cares?] minutes per day can triple the risk of cancer.
Triple! That's bad - right?
Maybe.
I asked for the numbers. I confess, I engaged.
He didn't have them.
So we don't know the odds. Say the odds are one in a billion, give or take, er, one. Three times the risk would be three in a billion give or take three. I don't see the trebling as a problem.
If the odds were, say, one in ten - becoming three in ten - then I'd be concerned. But if that were genuinely the case, I'd expect to have seen more people keeling over by now.
Without the actual odds - with just the number the odds have been multiplied by - we have learned NOTHING. Sorry for shouting.
And, unless the survey included everyone who's ever lived on the face of the planet (which I think we can assume it didn't), then the numbers were calculated by choosing a group of people and assuming everyone's pretty much like them, on the whole. More or less.
Which means that there's some wiggle room in how accurate the numbers are. If the wiggle room is bigger than the number, then the number is MEANINGLESS. Sorry for shouting.
And if you don't know the numbers, the size of the wiggle room or the size of the group of people then all you know is how much bigger one MEANINGLESS number is than another MEANINGLESS number.
That's probably just going to give you a third meaningless number. You know, like that the risk of getting cancer from something has trebled.
Unemployment
There's a headline to excite people. (What follows is an example. These are not real numbers but they are broadly plausible and, with any luck, might be instrumental in making an interesting point.)
A survey has told us the percentage of people who work part-time but aren't looking for any more working hours. It's 68%. Is that a good statistic?
In my example scenario, one million people work part-time. And 68% of them don't want to work any more hours. Would you be pleased about that 68% figure? It's probably a high enough score to get a first-class honours degree.
But it would mean there are 320,000 people who are short of money because they don't have enough work.
Still think it's okay?
There's a time and a place for percentages. But when we're talking about suffering or financial instability for people, it's good to know just how many of them are being whacked round the head (figuratively, naturally).
End of maths lesson
But keep it in mind. Next time you see statistics, percentages and big numbers being wafted about as if they're important, try to work out what they actually mean. Often the answer is very little.
Another man was waiting. He was reading The Daily Rubbish. (I know, it's juvenile. But I've stopped giving links to lousy news outlets.)
All of a sudden - and I'm not sure if he was addressing me, the receptionist or himself - he declared that using a mobile phone for more than [who cares?] minutes per day can triple the risk of cancer.
Triple! That's bad - right?
Maybe.
I asked for the numbers. I confess, I engaged.
He didn't have them.
So we don't know the odds. Say the odds are one in a billion, give or take, er, one. Three times the risk would be three in a billion give or take three. I don't see the trebling as a problem.
If the odds were, say, one in ten - becoming three in ten - then I'd be concerned. But if that were genuinely the case, I'd expect to have seen more people keeling over by now.
Without the actual odds - with just the number the odds have been multiplied by - we have learned NOTHING. Sorry for shouting.
And, unless the survey included everyone who's ever lived on the face of the planet (which I think we can assume it didn't), then the numbers were calculated by choosing a group of people and assuming everyone's pretty much like them, on the whole. More or less.
Which means that there's some wiggle room in how accurate the numbers are. If the wiggle room is bigger than the number, then the number is MEANINGLESS. Sorry for shouting.
And if you don't know the numbers, the size of the wiggle room or the size of the group of people then all you know is how much bigger one MEANINGLESS number is than another MEANINGLESS number.
That's probably just going to give you a third meaningless number. You know, like that the risk of getting cancer from something has trebled.
Unemployment
There's a headline to excite people. (What follows is an example. These are not real numbers but they are broadly plausible and, with any luck, might be instrumental in making an interesting point.)
A survey has told us the percentage of people who work part-time but aren't looking for any more working hours. It's 68%. Is that a good statistic?
In my example scenario, one million people work part-time. And 68% of them don't want to work any more hours. Would you be pleased about that 68% figure? It's probably a high enough score to get a first-class honours degree.
But it would mean there are 320,000 people who are short of money because they don't have enough work.
Still think it's okay?
There's a time and a place for percentages. But when we're talking about suffering or financial instability for people, it's good to know just how many of them are being whacked round the head (figuratively, naturally).
End of maths lesson
But keep it in mind. Next time you see statistics, percentages and big numbers being wafted about as if they're important, try to work out what they actually mean. Often the answer is very little.
Tuesday, 13 May 2014
Raiding the archive
It has recently come to my attention...
I was going to erase that opening but then I thought it was mildly amusing that my default setting this afternoon seems to be that of deputy headteacher about to hand out punishments for some crime or other.
Let's start again.
Being narcissistic, I was reading my recent articles, er, recently. And I noticed that, if you look at them on an Apple tablet, none of the embedded youTube videos work.
They don't tell you that they haven't worked. They just appear as a completely empty blank space as though the author was sent to sleep by his own writing and his head slumped on the 'return' key.
I can assure you that has not happened yet.
No, not yet. Here's what I think happened. Google has embedded the video as little boxes of Flash (you know, the saviour of the universe). And Apple has decided that it doesn't like Flash because, er, I've forgotten and who cares anyway. It was something about it crashing a lot and making their machines look bad.
Surely if I want to run rubbish software (which, incidentally, doesn't crash a lot on my PC or make it look bad), that's up to me? Maybe put a little bubble next to it saying "This is rubbish. We advise you not to use it. If you do and it's horrible, don't blame us."
But no. You can't have it. They know best.
Charlie Brooker
Charlie Brooker's excellent and generally wonderful series "Weekly Wipe" uses the cheeky device of pretending it's a six-episode series but then pulling a switcheroo and making episode six a compilation of the best bits of the previous five. You know, for those who've forgotten what they saw about a month ago and really want to watch it again now.
In tribute to him, here's an article I wrote about four years ago (get that, Charlie? YEARS! not weeks - YEARS!) about how Apple writes control-freak software.
I called it "Why Apple's iTunes is a demented butler who won't let you poach salmon in your dishwasher".
At about the time I wrote it and hawked it around a journal or two (actually it was one) who didn't want to publish it, Charlie himself wrote a (slightly) (all right, not very) similar article about Apple. I can't remember his. I'm not saying he copied me. Of course he didn't. He wouldn't have even seen mine.
And I joined Twitter to tell him about the hilarious similarity. Because, back then, I thought that was how Twitter worked.
That, in itself, slightly terrifies me. But I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.
No, that wasn't a typo. It was simple plagiarism. A prize to the first person who can tell me where I stole it from and who can promise that they didn't just look it up on Google.
I was going to erase that opening but then I thought it was mildly amusing that my default setting this afternoon seems to be that of deputy headteacher about to hand out punishments for some crime or other.
Let's start again.
Being narcissistic, I was reading my recent articles, er, recently. And I noticed that, if you look at them on an Apple tablet, none of the embedded youTube videos work.
They don't tell you that they haven't worked. They just appear as a completely empty blank space as though the author was sent to sleep by his own writing and his head slumped on the 'return' key.
I can assure you that has not happened yet.
No, not yet. Here's what I think happened. Google has embedded the video as little boxes of Flash (you know, the saviour of the universe). And Apple has decided that it doesn't like Flash because, er, I've forgotten and who cares anyway. It was something about it crashing a lot and making their machines look bad.
Surely if I want to run rubbish software (which, incidentally, doesn't crash a lot on my PC or make it look bad), that's up to me? Maybe put a little bubble next to it saying "This is rubbish. We advise you not to use it. If you do and it's horrible, don't blame us."
But no. You can't have it. They know best.
Charlie Brooker
Charlie Brooker's excellent and generally wonderful series "Weekly Wipe" uses the cheeky device of pretending it's a six-episode series but then pulling a switcheroo and making episode six a compilation of the best bits of the previous five. You know, for those who've forgotten what they saw about a month ago and really want to watch it again now.
In tribute to him, here's an article I wrote about four years ago (get that, Charlie? YEARS! not weeks - YEARS!) about how Apple writes control-freak software.
I called it "Why Apple's iTunes is a demented butler who won't let you poach salmon in your dishwasher".
At about the time I wrote it and hawked it around a journal or two (actually it was one) who didn't want to publish it, Charlie himself wrote a (slightly) (all right, not very) similar article about Apple. I can't remember his. I'm not saying he copied me. Of course he didn't. He wouldn't have even seen mine.
And I joined Twitter to tell him about the hilarious similarity. Because, back then, I thought that was how Twitter worked.
That, in itself, slightly terrifies me. But I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.
No, that wasn't a typo. It was simple plagiarism. A prize to the first person who can tell me where I stole it from and who can promise that they didn't just look it up on Google.
Monday, 12 May 2014
What's in a name?
Following on from my acclaimed previous blog post (What's in a word?), I proudly present to you What's in a name?
Let's pretend, for a moment, that there's a truly great, prolific, much-loved, award-winning and popular author called Archibald Flange.
(A quick Google search suggests that I'm safe to do what I like with this name. However, if it is your name and you feel offended by what follows, then let me know and I'll come up with something even less likely.)
Archibald Flange
For reasons that are no one else's business, Archie has got fed up with the whole writing circus. He's simply not going to write any more. He's earned enough to make himself comfortable and his back catalogue continues to sell well enough to keep him in food, wine and spirits.
He's looking for mischief.
He's going to do the exact opposite of J K Rowling.
Fast forward
Let's go forward a couple of years. Without his usual blaze of publicity - anecdotes on chat shows, readings at book signings, shaking hands with the Pope, etc - Archie has a new book out. (It's really mine but don't tell anyone.)
He blames new hips for his reluctance to venture out.
The sales are great.
Maybe the numbers aren't as high as for his previous few books.
The critics note a change in style, a new direction. The fans buy it regardless. Some of the less fervent fans decide to sit it out and wait till they can get it from the library or borrow it from a friend or hear at least three of their mavens tell them they just have to buy it, darling.
I offer to pay Archie a percentage. He laughs and tells me not to be so stupid. He asks me when the next one is coming out. He hasn't told anyone. Even his agent doesn't know.
Of course, this means that I have to be paid by Archie but that's no problem for him. Means I get a bit less because he's in a higher tax bracket but I'd rather have 60% of the royalties for my book with his name on the cover than 100% of the royalties for my book with my name on the cover.
How about my place in history? Ask me in ten years.
Would I be that mercenary?
Yes.
Anything else?
Dear Reader, would you feel cheated if you thought you'd bought Flange and got Tarnofsky? Even if you liked it?
What are the rules of adopting pen names? There must be plenty of examples of authors who genuinely have the same name - and someone must have accidentally adopted a famous pen name at some point.
It must be to do with the intention.
Maybe so - but why is misleading someone any better if you didn't know you were doing it?
I've been told that my short stories are reminiscent of the work of bestselling author Etgar Keret.
I would not do this
If I republished my short stories under the pen-name Etgar Keret (I really WOULD NOT do this) - and people bought them, and liked them, and thought that he'd written a really super collection of stories, then what harm has been done?
Plenty, clearly. Deliberate misleading of readers, potentially tarnishing Mr Keret's blameless and hard-earned good name.
It just feels wrong. But who has been harmed? People buying short stories that they thought they would like got short stories that they liked.
But I still wouldn't do it. It would feel like cheating.
What ever happened to Polaroid?
Was that too sudden a change in direction? Stay with me. I'll draw it together.
Polaroid was a world-famous, well-respected company for many years. They made instant cameras. (If you're under 25, you may wonder what I'm talking about. Try Wikipedia.)
Digital photography killed off their core business and the company was in various death throes for a while. It still hasn't died but its name has been sold off to be used on all sorts of ventures.
I have in my hand the box of a Polaroid light bulb. It says 'Polaroid' on the box and has their logo and contained one of the worst built light bulbs that I personally have ever had the misfortune to put into a light fitting. Yes, it came apart. You really don't want that from a light bulb.
A company which has been making high quality stuff for many decades - you'd trust them to know how to make a good light bulb. I mean - a light bulb! How hard can it be to churn these out? They're not exactly new technology. And this one was an old-fashioned hot bit of wire in a glass shell. The sort that Thomas Edison would have recognised.
His might have been better than this one.
But a company you've never heard of - would you buy their bulb? Instead of Phillips or Osram? Really?
I guess that's why they bought the right to use the word Polaroid.
I'm not accusing anyone of wrongdoing. They bought the name - they're entitled to use it. But maybe, just maybe, some people don't quite get what they're expecting.
So if I did the thing I said I wouldn't do...
...then I certainly wouldn't be the first. Hey Etgar - what percentage would you want? I'll have my people talk to your people.
(Suggestions for future episodes in the series are welcome. At the moment, I can only think of What's in a packet of crisps? - which, I think you'll agree, is unlikely to be of the same standard.)
Let's pretend, for a moment, that there's a truly great, prolific, much-loved, award-winning and popular author called Archibald Flange.
(A quick Google search suggests that I'm safe to do what I like with this name. However, if it is your name and you feel offended by what follows, then let me know and I'll come up with something even less likely.)
Archibald Flange
For reasons that are no one else's business, Archie has got fed up with the whole writing circus. He's simply not going to write any more. He's earned enough to make himself comfortable and his back catalogue continues to sell well enough to keep him in food, wine and spirits.
He's looking for mischief.
He's going to do the exact opposite of J K Rowling.
She used the pen name Robert Galbraith to see whether her writing would sell without her real name on it. Turned out it did. Not in earth-shattering numbers, but very respectably for the genre. (Of course, then the cat tore its way out of the bag, at which point some serious print runs were needed.)Archie is going to allow me to use his name for my next book. Thank you, Archie.
Fast forward
Let's go forward a couple of years. Without his usual blaze of publicity - anecdotes on chat shows, readings at book signings, shaking hands with the Pope, etc - Archie has a new book out. (It's really mine but don't tell anyone.)
He blames new hips for his reluctance to venture out.
The sales are great.
Maybe the numbers aren't as high as for his previous few books.
The critics note a change in style, a new direction. The fans buy it regardless. Some of the less fervent fans decide to sit it out and wait till they can get it from the library or borrow it from a friend or hear at least three of their mavens tell them they just have to buy it, darling.
I offer to pay Archie a percentage. He laughs and tells me not to be so stupid. He asks me when the next one is coming out. He hasn't told anyone. Even his agent doesn't know.
Of course, this means that I have to be paid by Archie but that's no problem for him. Means I get a bit less because he's in a higher tax bracket but I'd rather have 60% of the royalties for my book with his name on the cover than 100% of the royalties for my book with my name on the cover.
How about my place in history? Ask me in ten years.
Would I be that mercenary?
Yes.
Anything else?
Dear Reader, would you feel cheated if you thought you'd bought Flange and got Tarnofsky? Even if you liked it?
What are the rules of adopting pen names? There must be plenty of examples of authors who genuinely have the same name - and someone must have accidentally adopted a famous pen name at some point.
It must be to do with the intention.
Maybe so - but why is misleading someone any better if you didn't know you were doing it?
I've been told that my short stories are reminiscent of the work of bestselling author Etgar Keret.
I would not do this
If I republished my short stories under the pen-name Etgar Keret (I really WOULD NOT do this) - and people bought them, and liked them, and thought that he'd written a really super collection of stories, then what harm has been done?
Plenty, clearly. Deliberate misleading of readers, potentially tarnishing Mr Keret's blameless and hard-earned good name.
It just feels wrong. But who has been harmed? People buying short stories that they thought they would like got short stories that they liked.
But I still wouldn't do it. It would feel like cheating.
What ever happened to Polaroid?
Was that too sudden a change in direction? Stay with me. I'll draw it together.
Polaroid was a world-famous, well-respected company for many years. They made instant cameras. (If you're under 25, you may wonder what I'm talking about. Try Wikipedia.)
Digital photography killed off their core business and the company was in various death throes for a while. It still hasn't died but its name has been sold off to be used on all sorts of ventures.
I have in my hand the box of a Polaroid light bulb. It says 'Polaroid' on the box and has their logo and contained one of the worst built light bulbs that I personally have ever had the misfortune to put into a light fitting. Yes, it came apart. You really don't want that from a light bulb.
A company which has been making high quality stuff for many decades - you'd trust them to know how to make a good light bulb. I mean - a light bulb! How hard can it be to churn these out? They're not exactly new technology. And this one was an old-fashioned hot bit of wire in a glass shell. The sort that Thomas Edison would have recognised.
His might have been better than this one.
But a company you've never heard of - would you buy their bulb? Instead of Phillips or Osram? Really?
I guess that's why they bought the right to use the word Polaroid.
I'm not accusing anyone of wrongdoing. They bought the name - they're entitled to use it. But maybe, just maybe, some people don't quite get what they're expecting.
So if I did the thing I said I wouldn't do...
...then I certainly wouldn't be the first. Hey Etgar - what percentage would you want? I'll have my people talk to your people.
Sunday, 11 May 2014
What's in a word?
Last week, the Daily Mirror proudly trumpeted the footage it had obtained of Jeremy Clarkson using language so abhorrent that, apparently, he should be sacked. I'm not going to link to the article because I don't want to give their website the hits.
He was using the old nursery rhyme that begins 'Eeny meeny miney mo, catch a...', except he mumbled the second line, except his mumble wasn't mumbly enough so the next word was all too obvious.
(The word begins with 'n' and is an anagram of 'ginger'.)
This footage was never broadcast. The team at the BBC (including the possibly reproachable Jeremy Clarkson) decided that (a) it wasn't funny and (b) the unmentionable word was too clear. So they reshot it with him not mumbling and this time saying 'catch a teacher by the toe'.
It's still not funny but clearly a better choice by a hugely vast margin.
Sadly for all concerned, the unused out-take was leaked to the Daily Mirror. Or, to put it another way, it was stolen and passed on to another company for them to (a) make a profit by selling newspapers and (b) cause great damage to a rival institution. It's currently unknown whether the thief was paid.
It strikes me, in my opinion (and other opinions are, of course, valid and worthy) that there are two interpretations of this footage.
1) Mr Clarkson is a hideous racist who thought it would be hilariously funny to hide inflammatory language behind a thin veil of mumbling, as though the BBC hadn't suffered enough already from the mumbling in Jamaica Inn.
2) Mr Clarkson is a cheeky chap who likes to push at the boundaries. But, when he tried pushing this particular boundary, he found out how far he was prepared to push and it simply wasn't that far. So they binned the idea, shot something else and forgot about it.
Personally, I'd go with option 2.
I'm not defending the use of this sort of language. But I'm not defending the theft of footage either. And I'm not impressed that someone can decide not to do something that's rude but still be castigated for considering and rejecting it. This was never broadcast. This was never meant for broadcast.
Just imagine this for a moment...
Imagine you're writing a document at work. Someone has annoyed you. So, in the middle of one of the paragraphs that you think no one will ever read, you write something unspeakably rude about them. You look at it. Turns out it's not particularly funny anyway. There's still a chance that someone will read item 497.23 in the terms and conditions. So you erase it. No harm done.
Next day you've been sacked because someone managed to obtain a copy of the document at just the wrong moment. You're not sure how they got it. Maybe the computer automatically backed it up onto the company's server and they grabbed it at that point. It only existed for a moment. It should never have gone any further than your PC. But, you're told, that's irrelevant.
Other than the fact that the story about Jeremy Clarkson contains some of the most inflammatory language one can use (and yet which Quentin Tarantino freely sprinkles over so much of his films' dialogue), is this situation significantly different?
He was using the old nursery rhyme that begins 'Eeny meeny miney mo, catch a...', except he mumbled the second line, except his mumble wasn't mumbly enough so the next word was all too obvious.
(The word begins with 'n' and is an anagram of 'ginger'.)
It's still not funny but clearly a better choice by a hugely vast margin.
Sadly for all concerned, the unused out-take was leaked to the Daily Mirror. Or, to put it another way, it was stolen and passed on to another company for them to (a) make a profit by selling newspapers and (b) cause great damage to a rival institution. It's currently unknown whether the thief was paid.
It strikes me, in my opinion (and other opinions are, of course, valid and worthy) that there are two interpretations of this footage.
1) Mr Clarkson is a hideous racist who thought it would be hilariously funny to hide inflammatory language behind a thin veil of mumbling, as though the BBC hadn't suffered enough already from the mumbling in Jamaica Inn.
2) Mr Clarkson is a cheeky chap who likes to push at the boundaries. But, when he tried pushing this particular boundary, he found out how far he was prepared to push and it simply wasn't that far. So they binned the idea, shot something else and forgot about it.
Personally, I'd go with option 2.
I'm not defending the use of this sort of language. But I'm not defending the theft of footage either. And I'm not impressed that someone can decide not to do something that's rude but still be castigated for considering and rejecting it. This was never broadcast. This was never meant for broadcast.
Just imagine this for a moment...
Imagine you're writing a document at work. Someone has annoyed you. So, in the middle of one of the paragraphs that you think no one will ever read, you write something unspeakably rude about them. You look at it. Turns out it's not particularly funny anyway. There's still a chance that someone will read item 497.23 in the terms and conditions. So you erase it. No harm done.
Next day you've been sacked because someone managed to obtain a copy of the document at just the wrong moment. You're not sure how they got it. Maybe the computer automatically backed it up onto the company's server and they grabbed it at that point. It only existed for a moment. It should never have gone any further than your PC. But, you're told, that's irrelevant.
Other than the fact that the story about Jeremy Clarkson contains some of the most inflammatory language one can use (and yet which Quentin Tarantino freely sprinkles over so much of his films' dialogue), is this situation significantly different?
Thursday, 8 May 2014
Don't be boring - you'll start us snoring
Yesterday an actor playing Nick Clegg
Was shrunk to the size of a clothes peg
And looked just like a silly old prat
When chased around by Socks the cat.
But hang on, wait a minute here,
Why do you patronise us, dear?
A party political broadcast
Should nail its colours to the mast.
That satire wasn't even funny
I'd rather know what you'd do with our money.
What are your plans for the NHS?
How will you extract it from this mess?
More austerity? Less income tax?
Are benefits tests too strong? Too lax?
The roads, the buses, the bikes, the trains -
Do they get funding? How about planes?
And what do you plan to do with schools?
Free schools run by any old fools?
With more red tape till teachers down tools?
I'm not averse to a bit of mirth
But saw your film and thought 'what on earth?'
You chose not to tell us what you'd do
And pretty much just said 'Clegg's a poo'.
I apologise - not for my wonderful verse, but for giving more attention to this pathetic attempt at a 'funny' political broadcast.
Regardless of your political views, wouldn't it be refreshing if politicians could actually debate the issues? An approach like this video makes me long for the halcyon days of people just throwing meaningless soundbites at each other.
Would it be boring to make a video in which a personable speaker explained the issues and said what his/her party was going to do about it?
Was shrunk to the size of a clothes peg
And looked just like a silly old prat
When chased around by Socks the cat.
But hang on, wait a minute here,
Why do you patronise us, dear?
A party political broadcast
Should nail its colours to the mast.
That satire wasn't even funny
I'd rather know what you'd do with our money.
What are your plans for the NHS?
How will you extract it from this mess?
More austerity? Less income tax?
Are benefits tests too strong? Too lax?
The roads, the buses, the bikes, the trains -
Do they get funding? How about planes?
And what do you plan to do with schools?
Free schools run by any old fools?
With more red tape till teachers down tools?
I'm not averse to a bit of mirth
But saw your film and thought 'what on earth?'
You chose not to tell us what you'd do
And pretty much just said 'Clegg's a poo'.
I apologise - not for my wonderful verse, but for giving more attention to this pathetic attempt at a 'funny' political broadcast.
Regardless of your political views, wouldn't it be refreshing if politicians could actually debate the issues? An approach like this video makes me long for the halcyon days of people just throwing meaningless soundbites at each other.
Would it be boring to make a video in which a personable speaker explained the issues and said what his/her party was going to do about it?
Wednesday, 7 May 2014
Look at this! It's extraordinary and, er, great and, well, something else
Look at me! Look at me! Look at my work! Derive entertainment, damn you!
It's difficult to get attention. You knew that already. I need to come up with something better or you'll go away.
Some of you didn't even get this far.
How about insults? I could be unnecessarily rude about someone famous in the hope of grabbing some attention.
I sorta tried that except (1) it wasn't unnecessarily rude and (2) it didn't get much attention and (3) I didn't gain from it spiritually, morally or financially.
More positive approach
I've been writing thoughts inspired by the news recently and some people are definitely clicking on them.
I don't know if people are reading them. Are you?
No one is commenting (even when I suggest easy comments they could make) or emailing me with thoughts. (Or buying my books but that's a whole other thing.)
I'm not writing anything that might make anyone cross or litigious. Mostly because I don't feel that way. But yes, there's a little bit of fear of consequences thrown in. There's all sorts of scary stuff in the news (especially outside the UK) and even my reasonable, liberal, live-and-let-live views would probably wind someone up. I wouldn't want that. They might be mean.
I'd insult the British government but where's the sport in booting something into their open goal?
So how do I get attention? How do I expand my readership?
Who are you and why are you reading this now? How many people do you know who might read it too? TELL THEM! OR TELL ME!
Give me comments after the article. Tell me there's someone there.
Or I'll start randomly criticising semi-famous people again.
P.S.
Since writing the above, I was unnecessarily rude to an abstract concept! I successfully teased a playful rejoinder from a real celebrity - yes, I got my name into a whole tweet from Gareth Malone OBE.
With any luck, that won't be the only such tale I'll be telling my grandchildren if and when they bother to turn up. Here is the exchange in all its glory:
Weekend Kitchen @WkndKitchen This weekend on #weekendkitchen @SteveJones & @Lisa_Snowdon will be joined by @GarethMalone @Palomafaith & chef @AngelaHartnett
Peter Tarnofsky @PeterTarnofsky @WkndKitchen @GarethMalone @SteveJones @Lisa_Snowdon @Palomafaith @AngelaHartnett Singing guests outnumber cooking guests. Need new title.
Gareth Malone OBE @GarethMalone @PeterTarnofsky @WkndKitchen @SteveJones @Lisa_Snowdon @Palomafaith @AngelaHartnett Yes but I'm a demon with a garlic press.
Peter Tarnofsky @PeterTarnofsky @GarethMalone @WkndKitchen @SteveJones @Lisa_Snowdon @Palomafaith @AngelaHartnett Tell us something we couldn't have guessed.
...and there,sadly, the wit and repartee ended. If a late reply turns up I will, of course, add it to this blog post.
It's difficult to get attention. You knew that already. I need to come up with something better or you'll go away.
Some of you didn't even get this far.
How about insults? I could be unnecessarily rude about someone famous in the hope of grabbing some attention.
I sorta tried that except (1) it wasn't unnecessarily rude and (2) it didn't get much attention and (3) I didn't gain from it spiritually, morally or financially.
More positive approach
I've been writing thoughts inspired by the news recently and some people are definitely clicking on them.
I don't know if people are reading them. Are you?
No one is commenting (even when I suggest easy comments they could make) or emailing me with thoughts. (Or buying my books but that's a whole other thing.)
I'm not writing anything that might make anyone cross or litigious. Mostly because I don't feel that way. But yes, there's a little bit of fear of consequences thrown in. There's all sorts of scary stuff in the news (especially outside the UK) and even my reasonable, liberal, live-and-let-live views would probably wind someone up. I wouldn't want that. They might be mean.
I'd insult the British government but where's the sport in booting something into their open goal?
So how do I get attention? How do I expand my readership?
Who are you and why are you reading this now? How many people do you know who might read it too? TELL THEM! OR TELL ME!
Give me comments after the article. Tell me there's someone there.
Or I'll start randomly criticising semi-famous people again.
P.S.
Since writing the above, I was unnecessarily rude to an abstract concept! I successfully teased a playful rejoinder from a real celebrity - yes, I got my name into a whole tweet from Gareth Malone OBE.
With any luck, that won't be the only such tale I'll be telling my grandchildren if and when they bother to turn up. Here is the exchange in all its glory:
Weekend Kitchen @WkndKitchen This weekend on #weekendkitchen @SteveJones & @Lisa_Snowdon will be joined by @GarethMalone @Palomafaith & chef @AngelaHartnett
Peter Tarnofsky @PeterTarnofsky @WkndKitchen @GarethMalone @SteveJones @Lisa_Snowdon @Palomafaith @AngelaHartnett Singing guests outnumber cooking guests. Need new title.
Gareth Malone OBE @GarethMalone @PeterTarnofsky @WkndKitchen @SteveJones @Lisa_Snowdon @Palomafaith @AngelaHartnett Yes but I'm a demon with a garlic press.
Peter Tarnofsky @PeterTarnofsky @GarethMalone @WkndKitchen @SteveJones @Lisa_Snowdon @Palomafaith @AngelaHartnett Tell us something we couldn't have guessed.
...and there,sadly, the wit and repartee ended. If a late reply turns up I will, of course, add it to this blog post.
Tuesday, 6 May 2014
Presumption of guilt and disproportionate punishment
According to the Guardian last Saturday, someone nearly ended up with a criminal record over accidentally paying 55p too little for a train fare.
Here's the article.
None of this is particularly new. Stories like this about railway companies are fairly common. But get a load of the comments after the article...
A good proportion of them assume intent (and therefore guilt) - and some of them go on to assume that this person has been doing it for a prolongued period of time and, clearly, would have continued to defraud the railways if they hadn't been caught. All those 55ps can add up, you know.
I didn't reach that conclusion myself. But, hey, we're all entitled to our own opinions.
It reminds me of my jury service
No, officer, stand down, there's no need to arrest me for contempt of court. Nothing I have written or am about to write concerns what happened in the courtroom or in the jury-room.
Before I turned up on my first day, a line from some comedy (don't ask me which one) went through my head. "If he's not guilty of that, then he's probably guilty of something else so stick him in prison anyway."
That is, naturally, not the way I behaved. I believe I served the judicial process to the best of my ability and blah blah blah (insert whatever else it is one is supposed to write about the whole business).
Back to trains
Many years ago, I regularly bought a season ticket for my train journey to work. Normally they lasted for a month. That's a calendar month. (Is there another sort?)
If the ticket was due to expire on a Friday and I was certain I wouldn't need to travel over the weekend, I'd ask for the next ticket to begin on the Monday. Maybe the two days would be more useful at the other end of the month.
One time, despite clearly asking for this, the man at the ticket office issued a ticket which started the next day. In other words, he accidentally deprived me of two potential days of travel bliss. At the time it was probably worth about £15.
I pointed that out to him. He refused to change it.
Goodness me, we're down the rabbit hole now. It's moved from accidental to deliberate. This man is in a whole different league from the 55p traveller.
I was young, I was in a hurry, I thought I probably wouldn't use the two days at the other end of the month either - to be honest, I can't remember why I didn't insist. Maybe life just felt too short. Anyway, he finally grudgingly offered me a concession.
He took out his biro and wrote "ADD TWO DAYS. STAN." on the back. (His name wasn't Stan but, for some reason, I'm allowing him a pseudonym. Maybe I'm afraid of being sued for libel, bearing in mind the legal fees, removal of any meaningful form of legal aid, etc.)
I didn't try to use this as a rail ticket beyond the printed date. I think we can guess what would have happened.
But if you decide to give it a go (and I'M NOT SAYING YOU SHOULD OR THAT IT'S A GOOD IDEA OR THAT STAN IS THE RIGHT NAME), try writing something like that on the back of your ticket. Let us know how you get on.
Let the punishment dramatically exceed the severity of the crime
The 55p person was allowed the generous settlement of £31 to make the whole sordid business go away. The punishment, in other words, was about sixty times the size of the accidental shortfall.
Bearing that in mind, my railway company should pay me £900.
Hey, First Capital Connect - how about it?
In Roman times, the story goes that if anyone in the empire killed a Roman citizen, ten people from the local village would be executed. (They probably would have said that making it 60 would have been unreasonable.) As far as disproportionate punishments go, even a low factor of 10 is pretty good and would certainly discourage people from attacking anyone who looked like they might wear a toga at home.
(I should point out that I learned that from an episode of the West Wing so it might not be entirely historically accurate. But the principle stands.)
Perhaps we could have a less proportionate system of retribution built into the justice system. Stayed five minutes too long in a parking bay? Have a £120 fine for non-payment of £4.
Oh. Seems it's already happening.
Staying with motoring, how about... Been driving at 75mph in a 70mph zone? Well, 5x60=300 so we'll fire you out of a cannon at 375mph and see how you like it.
Sorry - was that silly? Sillier than messing up someone's entire life with a criminal record over a debt of 55p?
Here's the article.
None of this is particularly new. Stories like this about railway companies are fairly common. But get a load of the comments after the article...
A good proportion of them assume intent (and therefore guilt) - and some of them go on to assume that this person has been doing it for a prolongued period of time and, clearly, would have continued to defraud the railways if they hadn't been caught. All those 55ps can add up, you know.
I didn't reach that conclusion myself. But, hey, we're all entitled to our own opinions.
It reminds me of my jury service
No, officer, stand down, there's no need to arrest me for contempt of court. Nothing I have written or am about to write concerns what happened in the courtroom or in the jury-room.
Before I turned up on my first day, a line from some comedy (don't ask me which one) went through my head. "If he's not guilty of that, then he's probably guilty of something else so stick him in prison anyway."
That is, naturally, not the way I behaved. I believe I served the judicial process to the best of my ability and blah blah blah (insert whatever else it is one is supposed to write about the whole business).
Back to trains
Many years ago, I regularly bought a season ticket for my train journey to work. Normally they lasted for a month. That's a calendar month. (Is there another sort?)
If the ticket was due to expire on a Friday and I was certain I wouldn't need to travel over the weekend, I'd ask for the next ticket to begin on the Monday. Maybe the two days would be more useful at the other end of the month.
One time, despite clearly asking for this, the man at the ticket office issued a ticket which started the next day. In other words, he accidentally deprived me of two potential days of travel bliss. At the time it was probably worth about £15.
I pointed that out to him. He refused to change it.
Goodness me, we're down the rabbit hole now. It's moved from accidental to deliberate. This man is in a whole different league from the 55p traveller.
I was young, I was in a hurry, I thought I probably wouldn't use the two days at the other end of the month either - to be honest, I can't remember why I didn't insist. Maybe life just felt too short. Anyway, he finally grudgingly offered me a concession.
He took out his biro and wrote "ADD TWO DAYS. STAN." on the back. (His name wasn't Stan but, for some reason, I'm allowing him a pseudonym. Maybe I'm afraid of being sued for libel, bearing in mind the legal fees, removal of any meaningful form of legal aid, etc.)
I didn't try to use this as a rail ticket beyond the printed date. I think we can guess what would have happened.
But if you decide to give it a go (and I'M NOT SAYING YOU SHOULD OR THAT IT'S A GOOD IDEA OR THAT STAN IS THE RIGHT NAME), try writing something like that on the back of your ticket. Let us know how you get on.
Let the punishment dramatically exceed the severity of the crime
The 55p person was allowed the generous settlement of £31 to make the whole sordid business go away. The punishment, in other words, was about sixty times the size of the accidental shortfall.
Bearing that in mind, my railway company should pay me £900.
Hey, First Capital Connect - how about it?
In Roman times, the story goes that if anyone in the empire killed a Roman citizen, ten people from the local village would be executed. (They probably would have said that making it 60 would have been unreasonable.) As far as disproportionate punishments go, even a low factor of 10 is pretty good and would certainly discourage people from attacking anyone who looked like they might wear a toga at home.
(I should point out that I learned that from an episode of the West Wing so it might not be entirely historically accurate. But the principle stands.)
Perhaps we could have a less proportionate system of retribution built into the justice system. Stayed five minutes too long in a parking bay? Have a £120 fine for non-payment of £4.
Oh. Seems it's already happening.
Staying with motoring, how about... Been driving at 75mph in a 70mph zone? Well, 5x60=300 so we'll fire you out of a cannon at 375mph and see how you like it.
Sorry - was that silly? Sillier than messing up someone's entire life with a criminal record over a debt of 55p?
Wednesday, 30 April 2014
Mystic powers or just coincidence?
I've been reading Stewart Lee's book How I Escaped My Certain Fate.
From previous experience of blogging about comics, I want to be careful not to upset anyone by making my opinion look like it's a declaration of fact, thereby implying that anyone who disagrees with me must be somewhat lacking in intelligence.
So I won't say it's a great book. I'll just say it's very much to my taste and I personally derived a great amount of enjoyment from reading it. Other tastes may vary.
Buy a copy. Read it. If you enjoy it then you can be reasonably confident that you have similar taste to me when it comes to books written by comedians.
But that's not what I want to write about.
On pages 277-8, he mentions a folk singer called Sally Barker. At the time I was reading it, she was a finalist on the BBC1 programme The Voice.
Personally (here we go again), I found her singing was very much to my taste. But I liked Jermain Jackman (who eventually won) too. And the other finalists. It was a happy programme to watch - thinking that all of the finalists were excellent singers, they all appeared to be great people and that, therefore, an excellent singer who was a great person was bound to win.
Some days later, I watched an episode of Lilyhammer. It stars Steve Van Zandt, guitarist with the E-Street Band and actor. That very night, I reached page 316 of Stewart's book, in which he mentions Steve Van Zandt.
But what does it all mean?
(a) nothing - it's just a coincidence
(b) Stewart (or, perhaps, a spirit residing in his book) has mystic powers and I should open the book at random in order to receive guidance at any point in my life. (This will be tricky since it's a library book and, if the spirit only resides in this copy, then in another week I will have to make my way without guidance since I can't keep renewing it indefinitely.)
Why not vote? Send me a message with 'a' or 'b'.
Before you rush to vote 'a', consider this: faiths have been established on flimsier premises. But none that I'm brave enough to name.
And before you rush to vote 'b', consider that fact that I just randomly turned to page 122 and couldn't fathom how any of it could help me with my day. Perhaps I just need someone more spiritual to help me interpret.
From previous experience of blogging about comics, I want to be careful not to upset anyone by making my opinion look like it's a declaration of fact, thereby implying that anyone who disagrees with me must be somewhat lacking in intelligence.
So I won't say it's a great book. I'll just say it's very much to my taste and I personally derived a great amount of enjoyment from reading it. Other tastes may vary.
Buy a copy. Read it. If you enjoy it then you can be reasonably confident that you have similar taste to me when it comes to books written by comedians.
But that's not what I want to write about.
On pages 277-8, he mentions a folk singer called Sally Barker. At the time I was reading it, she was a finalist on the BBC1 programme The Voice.
Personally (here we go again), I found her singing was very much to my taste. But I liked Jermain Jackman (who eventually won) too. And the other finalists. It was a happy programme to watch - thinking that all of the finalists were excellent singers, they all appeared to be great people and that, therefore, an excellent singer who was a great person was bound to win.
Some days later, I watched an episode of Lilyhammer. It stars Steve Van Zandt, guitarist with the E-Street Band and actor. That very night, I reached page 316 of Stewart's book, in which he mentions Steve Van Zandt.
But what does it all mean?
(a) nothing - it's just a coincidence
(b) Stewart (or, perhaps, a spirit residing in his book) has mystic powers and I should open the book at random in order to receive guidance at any point in my life. (This will be tricky since it's a library book and, if the spirit only resides in this copy, then in another week I will have to make my way without guidance since I can't keep renewing it indefinitely.)
Why not vote? Send me a message with 'a' or 'b'.
Before you rush to vote 'a', consider this: faiths have been established on flimsier premises. But none that I'm brave enough to name.
And before you rush to vote 'b', consider that fact that I just randomly turned to page 122 and couldn't fathom how any of it could help me with my day. Perhaps I just need someone more spiritual to help me interpret.
Tuesday, 29 April 2014
Tell Andrew the position has been filled
...at least I think that's his name. He's Uncle Albert's dog - you remember, the guy who's floating around, bumping into the ceiling and laughing.
Much as I hate to turn away readers, the wonderful Mark Kermode implies that I should do just that to anyone who doesn't pick up the reference. Here's why:
So this is what should happen. If you advertise a job or run a competition or one of those other things where a small number of people get something they really wanted while a large number of people leave with nothing - then tell everyone when the position has been filled.
There's a growing trend in recruitment to (a) not give a start date, (b) not give a closing date for applications, (c) not give a date for interviews and (d) not give a damn about anyone who might be waiting to find out whether they've got through or not. The months roll by. Is the process taking ages or has the lucky new employee already met everyone and started working on something really interesting?
I'm not saying give everyone feedback in minute detail. Just make a list of all the email addresses and tell them all when the position has been filled. Or when the competition has a winner. Even if you think they're as insignificant as a dog.
Do HR departments want everyone phoning up to ask? I'm sure that would take longer.
That's not exactly relevant
I recently entered (yet another) short story competition. Did you know I'd written two books of short stories? (They All Die At The End and Everything Turns Out Just Fine). Well, the short story didn't come from either of them.
I wasn't short-listed. But what was interesting (to me) was that I'd actually forgotten about it for ages. When I finally bothered to look it up, I found out the short-listing and the champion-crowning had happened long ago.
Wouldn't it have been nice if they'd sent an email to all entrants to tell them that the winners had been announced?
Sour grapes alert
I read the winning entry. And the two runners-up. And I didn't rate any of them. I'm not saying they're rubbish. Of course I'm not saying that. I'm saying that they're not to my taste. They're not for me. I disagree with the conclusions but I do so with respect for the opinions and tastes of others.
However, it showed me that the short stories I write are not the short stories that these "short story experts" rate. I neither want to write nor read stories written in that style.
So if you think you don't like short stories, maybe you should read mine because I don't like what's conventionally thought to be well-executed short stories either.
I eagerly await the avalanche of sales.
Don't forget you can order signed paperbacks from my website.
http://theyalldieattheend.wordpress.com/buy-the-book/
http://everythingturnsoutjustfine.wordpress.com/buy-the-book/
http://www.petertarnofsky.co.uk
Shocking
Sorry. I don't normally use this blog for blatant self-promotion. Normal service will be resumed the next time I think of something to write about. I often comment on the news but I find today's news really depressing so I'm taking refuge in fiction.
Really
I've decided to always put the word really in italics because if an adjective has earned the modifier really then it probably should be stressed. Feel free to argue the point since it is, by far, the most trivial point mentioned here.
P.S.
If I don't get at least a few hundred hits on my website and at least, literally, one or two sales from this article then there's no justice in the world.
Wait... what? There isn't?
Sunday, 2 March 2014
Maybe it wasn't intended as sour grapes but...
Lynn Shepherd wrote this:
http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/lynn-shepherd/jk-rowling-should-stop-writing_b_4829648.html
Yes, she really said that J K Rowling had had her turn and should now retire to leave the way clear for other writers. When I first read about it on the BBC's news website, I thought it couldn't be true. I assumed they had misrepresented her. I shouldn't have doubted the BBC. But feel free to make up your own mind.
Before I go on, let me state this as clearly as I can. I don't think that J K Rowling should stop writing, or having her books published, whether under her own name or under any pseudonym that takes her fancy.
(And if she wanted to write under the name 'Peter Tarnofsky', I wouldn't stop her as long as she didn't make it clear which ones were hers and which ones were mine. Yes, I'd shamelessly take a leg-up, ride on coat-tails, etc.)
She has brought joy and wonder to millions. I liked some of her books. I've enjoyed the films. Yes, I'd like a little success too - but wouldn't expect someone else to back down so I could have it.
She enjoys writing and people enjoy reading what she's written. Long may it continue.
Surely that's not all this article is going to say?
Funnily enough, no.
I think the fault, if there is any fault, lies with the media.
"Successful, much loved author writes successful, much loved book" is not really news.
"Author you've never heard of writes great book that deserves wide audience" is definitely news.
Maybe we could have more of the latter and a bit less of the former. It's not that J K Rowling is removing the oxygen from the room - it's the media that's bagging up all the oxygen and delivering it to her house unbidden.
So I'm taking potshots at the media instead? Is that any better?
A little better but not much. Newspapers need readers and they get more website hits (hence advertising revenue) by writing about authors that people want to read about. In other words, there's a financial advantage in their writing about J K Rowling rather than someone less well-known (like Peter Tarnofsky, for example).
Why should they act to their own detriment? They don't owe me anything. They're trying to run a business here.
This doesn't entirely excuse the printed media, which does not depend upon advertising click-rates but, if they constantly ignore the interests of their readers, they simply sell fewer copies.
But if there's any blame, it's with the media for over-reporting the latest thoughts and releases of well-established writers - at the expense of giving a few more column inches to upcoming authors who could really do with a little more exposure.
But, as far as I'm concerned, J K Rowling is entirely blameless in this matter.
Obligatory plug
If this makes you want to read some of my work, it would be silly of me not to make it as easy as possible:
Short stories for adults:
http://everythingturnsoutjustfine.wordpress.com/buy-the-book/
http://theyalldieattheend.wordpress.com/buy-the-book/
Novels for children:
http://petertarnofskybooks.wordpress.com/buy-the-books/
http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/lynn-shepherd/jk-rowling-should-stop-writing_b_4829648.html
Yes, she really said that J K Rowling had had her turn and should now retire to leave the way clear for other writers. When I first read about it on the BBC's news website, I thought it couldn't be true. I assumed they had misrepresented her. I shouldn't have doubted the BBC. But feel free to make up your own mind.
Before I go on, let me state this as clearly as I can. I don't think that J K Rowling should stop writing, or having her books published, whether under her own name or under any pseudonym that takes her fancy.
(And if she wanted to write under the name 'Peter Tarnofsky', I wouldn't stop her as long as she didn't make it clear which ones were hers and which ones were mine. Yes, I'd shamelessly take a leg-up, ride on coat-tails, etc.)
She has brought joy and wonder to millions. I liked some of her books. I've enjoyed the films. Yes, I'd like a little success too - but wouldn't expect someone else to back down so I could have it.
She enjoys writing and people enjoy reading what she's written. Long may it continue.
Surely that's not all this article is going to say?
Funnily enough, no.
I think the fault, if there is any fault, lies with the media.
"Successful, much loved author writes successful, much loved book" is not really news.
"Author you've never heard of writes great book that deserves wide audience" is definitely news.
Maybe we could have more of the latter and a bit less of the former. It's not that J K Rowling is removing the oxygen from the room - it's the media that's bagging up all the oxygen and delivering it to her house unbidden.
So I'm taking potshots at the media instead? Is that any better?
A little better but not much. Newspapers need readers and they get more website hits (hence advertising revenue) by writing about authors that people want to read about. In other words, there's a financial advantage in their writing about J K Rowling rather than someone less well-known (like Peter Tarnofsky, for example).
Why should they act to their own detriment? They don't owe me anything. They're trying to run a business here.
This doesn't entirely excuse the printed media, which does not depend upon advertising click-rates but, if they constantly ignore the interests of their readers, they simply sell fewer copies.
But if there's any blame, it's with the media for over-reporting the latest thoughts and releases of well-established writers - at the expense of giving a few more column inches to upcoming authors who could really do with a little more exposure.
But, as far as I'm concerned, J K Rowling is entirely blameless in this matter.
Obligatory plug
If this makes you want to read some of my work, it would be silly of me not to make it as easy as possible:
Short stories for adults:
http://everythingturnsoutjustfine.wordpress.com/buy-the-book/
http://theyalldieattheend.wordpress.com/buy-the-book/
Novels for children:
http://petertarnofskybooks.wordpress.com/buy-the-books/
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