(Yeah, I see the errors being spit out by the Twitter API in the left column. I’ll look into it soon so all four of you will be safe from eyestrain.)

Considering the warranty is now null and void, I think I’ll just convert it to an Etch-A-Sketch and do without. The happy ending? (Well, more like a not-so-sad ending.) I installed the free Kindle app on my Android phone and as soon as I logged in I had access to all my books again. Woo hoo.

(Speaking of random illness, anyone who’s experienced a nasty inner ear imbalance can confirm the level of debilitation. The emergency room nurse opined that it’s the worst no-permanent-damage ailment that can happen to someone. Forget elaborate, Evil Overlord style plotting; any villain with the mutant power to tweak an opponent’s inner ear would win by default. Superman would remain curled in a fetal position if Lex developed an Inner Ear Pressure Alternator. Hell, Galactus would even puke up all the old planets he’s already devoured if someone just messed with his balance to that extreme. But I digress…)

New Year’s, with all its expectation of resolutions and new beginnings, seems like the perfect opportunity to hit the reset button. So, why not jump on the bandwagon? I’m writing, filming and recording with renewed vigor… even knee-deep in research for a new idea that has me excited again. In the immortal words of my VP chum Cath Schaff-Stump, I’m ready to “see my writing journey as more about being who I am, and less about being a goal-oriented freak.” Preach it, sister! I’m totally on board.

The New York Times recently published this article regarding retail price vs. the overhead of distributing an e-book. Eric from Pimp My Novel weighed in with some useful facts essentially showing that, while it is true that some publishing costs are less for an e-book, the price/profit ratio remains roughly the same as with a traditional print book.

The main problem with all of this back-and-forth price-point justification is that it’s based on a flawed assumption: that we are talking about two versions of the same product. An e-book purchase is in almost no way directly analogous to an ink-and-paper purchase. In fact, it’s closer to the idea of renting or streaming a film from Netflix rather than buying the DVD. When you purchase a book from your local bookseller — or through mail order — you are purchasing outright ownership of your copy of the work. When you make an e-book purchase — especially a DRM-restricted purchase, which is the overwhelming rule both now and in the planned future — you are merely paying for the right to view the work on a limited subset of devices under circumstances dictated by the licensing agreement. You cannot mark it up, take it with you wherever you go (without said device), loan it to your Aunt Martha or sell it used. Your own access to the work can be denied or restricted at any time, either intentionally (renegotiated contracts) or unintentionally (DRM servers go down). At best, you can engage in limited sharing, often after enduring accompanying finger-wagging and legal nags. In short, in many ways an e-book purchase presents far less value than a physical book purchase even when the content is the same in both cases.

How can we apply an existing price/overhead ratio to a new product with an entirely different value? Of course, the value of any product is merely what someone is willing to pay for it. The e-book is essentially a brand new product that must be evaluated on its own merits, not framed using traditional print criteria. I think the main reason that many consumers question existing and proposed pricing structures is that they perceive this difference. Comparing previous revenues from other distribution channels is not the way to win over the public pocketbook. Quite simply, in my opinion, e-books need to remain cheaper than physical books until the purchaser is given an equivalent value. DRM, by virtue of inhibiting a paying customer, devalues that product.

At least that’s how I see it.

The Julia Morgan Ballroom was a perfect place for a write-in, feeling a bit like a den with its dark wooden walls and roaring fireplace. (That’s “Warm Ye in Friendship” inscribed across the mantle.)

Writers were in attendance from all over the world, competing in 5, 10 and 30 minute word sprints. I gave up on those after the first 5-minute run; I’m convinced the winners’ plots involved quick brown foxes and lazy dogs.)

The food was insane. A candy table was piled high with marzipan, Japanese gummi treats and every other imaginable confection. There was also pasta, pizza and the capper: crazy candy-topped donuts from Psycho Donuts. I started to get the distinct feeling we were being fattened up for a Thanksgiving slaughter.

In the end I managed just under 4,000 words. Not a record-setter, but not bad considering the constant distractions of food, conversation and even author photos with amusing props. All in all it was fun, and probably salvaged my NaNoWriMo word count as I was beginning to bog down last week. Now I’m in pretty good shape for the home stretch.

An interesting brouhaha is brewing over Harlequin’s decision to start publishing slush for cash with their new Harlequin Horizons line. The move has been almost universally decried by writers and organizations alike, provoking harsh responses from the likes of SFWA and MWA as well as popular forums like Absolute Write. Now comes the interesting news that, in response to the backlash, Harlequin is changing the name of the imprint to preserve their brand name. Will it be enough to appease the angry mob? I suppose at least no poor writer will fall for the scheme just to claim being published by Harlequin.

And, on another tangent, it looks like I will be attending the official NaNoWriMo Night of Living Dangerously write-a-thon in San Francisco. It’s close — a BART ride away. I need the catch-up time and might actually write if sitting in a room with a bunch of other writers. And, judging from the forum responses, interesting people from around the world (!) will be in attendance. So, why not? We’ll see how it goes.

In unrelated news, I’m ready to declare the AMC remake of The Prisoner a crushing disappointment. The writer, director and most of the actors somehow managed to evade all of the wit and charm that made the original tick. Ian McKellen provides some entertainment — as he is wont to do — but Number Six is sorely lacking the calculated shrewdness that made him a worthy adversary for the Number Twos. The updated setting is interesting, and I was glad to see Rover bounce back, but I am sad to have lost two hours of weekend writing time for this.

OK, changing that last bit to nob sequitur was the last straw. I’ve switched to a real pc to finish editing this post. Happily, the phone did correctly save the draft to my blog so I could pick up where I left off. It’s a cool idea — and I suppose if I am lost in the wilderness and need to post messages to this site, the mobile app will come in handy. But posting from the phone takes about ten times longer than using a real keyboard and years of muscle memory QWERTY typing. I think Twitter length is probably the zenith for a tiny virtual keyboard.

Speaking of the arch-daemon, Twidroid is awesome. It was great to receive regular updates from fellow Viable Paradise stalwarts after we’d all left for home and I was out in the freezing, broadband-free Illinois wilderness during the second leg of my journey. And it continues to eat up a significant portion of what could be writing time. But it’s worth it, damn it!

I think those having the most problems are those who already write regularly. It’s hard to suppress the Inner Editor and just churn out words that may or may not have any redemptive value. For me it’s been an exercise in learning to Just Finish the Freaking Thing and retraining myself not to edit as I go. The result is a story that, thus far, consists of some interesting ideas stitched together by implausible events and laughably long expositional conversations. But the point is, I churned through the parts I haven’t quite worked out in my head and made it to spots of real inspiration. A lot of it will be thrown out, and a lot won’t.

But I won’t be shipping out query letters on December 1st.

Addendum: Forgot to add this tweet from fellow Fighting XIIIth squad member Lisa Morton. A perfect summation of writing by the pound…

“Thanks,” Gita said, realizing this conversation served no purpose in the plot. Gathering her things, she headed out to find it. #wip”