Venture Capitalists Turned Publishers - It's All About Scratching Your Own Itch

Traditional publishing is in a state of turmoil. As the Chinese say, though, in chaos there is opportunity. To this end, I recently sat down with author, venture capitalist Brad Feld to talk about his new venture Foundry Group Press.



Q: You and your partners recently dove into an entirely new market as early stage venture capitalists: book publishing. What led you to spin up FG Press?
A: Well I wouldn't say the market is new to us. All of us at Foundry Group - Jason Mendelson, Seth Levine, Ryan McIntyre, and I - are authors, soon-to-be authors, and voracious readers. I have published five books and am currently working on two more. For my first five books, I worked with a traditional big publishing house. The people were great but the process and the overall experience was disappointing. What do you think working with a publisher means? I used to think it meant quality editing, both developmental and copy, a marketing powerhouse, and digital expertise. Through my first couple books, I learned it was just piles of red tape and on the other side of that red tape, misaligned incentives between the author and the publishing staff. While the team that I worked with tried hard, they were shackled by a system that I decided was completely broken.



Q: So, at a high level, what's the different way?
A: Realignment of economics, digital first, data transparency, and a direct relationship between author and reader.

Q: Tell me more.

A: The realignment of economics stems from my perspective as an author. Instead of paying out an inconsequential advance and using that as a negotiation point for royalty splits, which is traditionally somewhere around 85/15 in favor of the publisher, we start with a 50/50 split. Hugh Howey recently put out a great piece explaining why this should be the case which you can find on authorearnings.com. The author community response to this has been overwhelmingly positive.



Q: Let me jump in here. Of course the response is positive, you're effectively paying them more. How do you guys stay in business compared to a big publisher?

A: This ties in with the idea of digital first. The traditional publishers have a ton of overhead both in terms of personnel and cost associated with printing books. By going digital first and creating quality e-books before physical books, we keep the process lean.



Q: Now that FG Press has been live for a month, I have to ask: How are things going?

A: Our first title, Uncommon Stock by Eliot Peper, launched as a top 10 book in its Amazon category, just under some Tom Clancy books. We are close to releasing our second book, Sleep Your Way To The Top and Other Myths About Business Success by Jane Miller. We've got a great pipeline of stuff coming and we're loving the experience of working together as an extended author / publisher team.



Q: I've had a chance to read Uncommon Stock. It's a good read but the genre is...unique. Care to comment on that?

A: We call it "startup fiction" and Eliot did a dynamite job with it. We're going to try to do for startup fiction what John Grisham did for the legal fiction genre. I've long thought there was a huge demand for this genre, but have been surprised that it never really emerged beyond cyber thrillers.



Q: What's next for FG Press?

A: Books, authors, and readers. We have a number of titles lined up and I can't wait to get them in the hands of readers!

Jane Goodall blames 'chaotic note taking' for plagiarism controversy

Scientist revises her book Seeds of Hope after allegations 12 sections were lifted from other websites

Leading primatologist Jane Goodall has blamed a "hectic work schedule" and her "chaotic method of note taking" for a plagarism controversy surrounding her reissued book.

Speaking ahead of the publication of a revised edition of Seeds of Hope, first published in August 2013, Goodall, said she had learned lessons following reports in the Washington Post last year that at least 12 sections of the book were lifted from other websites including Wikipedia.

A Plea to Book Designers: InDesign Is Not a Linotype Machine

Reasons to Be Happy: Interview With Katrina Kittle

Katrina Kittle is the author of four books for adults -- Traveling Light, Two Truths and a Lie, The Kindness of Strangers, and The Blessings of the Animals -- and one novel for tweens, Reasons to Be Happy. The Kindness of Strangers was the winner of the 2006 Great Lakes Book Award for Fiction. The Blessings of the Animals was an Indie Next pick and chosen by the Women's National Book Association as one of ten Great Group Reads for National Book Group Month (October 2010). Kittle teaches creative writing workshops from the third grade to retirement communities, and is currently teaching at Word's Worth Writing Center in Dayton, OH.



Loren Kleinman (LK): You were a John E. Nance Writer-in-Residence at The Thurber House in Columbus, Ohio in October 2013. What was that like? Talk about how you snagged that opportunity?



Katrina Kittle (KK): The gift of uninterrupted time is such a gift to a writer, and that Thurber House residency was just amazing. They offer two residencies a year, so I encourage other writers to check it out and apply. To apply, I had to submit pages from the manuscript I hoped to be working on if I were lucky enough to get chosen. It was a bit nail-biting because my current work-in-progress is a real departure from my other work, and it was in such early stages at the time of applying that I wasn't sure anyone would see the potential in it. Fortunately, they could, and I had four weeks where I could totally immerse myself in the novel-in-progress and didn't have to worry about anything else--no home maintenance, no heading off to the job-that-pays-the-bills, no split focus with any other commitment at all. There's no way to sustain that kind of focus all the time, but knowing it was temporary, I was able to just "live in" the novel and get an amazing amount of writing done. The staff was supportive and fun, and the house is very haunted. The ghosts there made themselves known, but they were friendly and welcoming, not malevolent at all. I'd always wanted to live in a haunted house, so I finally had my chance and loved every minute of it. The house also influenced the work-in-progress, though: there's a ghost from the 1918 Spanish flu pandemic in the story, and I think the Thurber House ghosts highly approved.



LK: You've held some pretty interesting positions: a house cleaner, a veterinary assistant, a children's theatre director, a costumer, and as case management support for the AIDS Resource Center (formerly AIDS Foundation Miami Valley). How have these past lives (if you will) contributed to your writing career? Talk about working at the AIDS foundation? What did you learn? What did you find harrowing?



KK: I find it interesting that I spent most of my life longing for the ability to write full time, and only when I was able to write full time did I realize the seed for every single one of my novels had been planted by an experience in a non-writing-related job I'd had. Julia Cameron has a wonderful quote I adore: "In order to make art, we must first make an artful life, a life rich enough and diverse enough to give us fuel." I've learned there's actually a danger in being privileged enough to sit alone in a room all day -- there's no material, no "fuel," for my stories in that empty room. Or maybe I'm just rationalizing the fact that I have to go out in the world to make a living? But, seriously, I was led to the AIDS Foundation because of losing friends to that disease. First, I was a volunteer, then, over time, I was actually employed by them. I saw such bravery, creativity, and resilience in the people who made up the staff and the client roster, but the coverage of the disease at that time (the early 90's) tended to be harsh and judgmental. My experiences working there -- and trying to reconcile what I heard other people saying about HIV and AIDS with what I saw to be true about HIV and AIDS -- led to my first novel Traveling Light. I know my work with that organization added detail and authenticity to that story. These days, rather than grumbling about having to go to work (other than writing), I try to remind myself: "It's all material. It's all 'fuel.'" That's the real beauty of the writing life to me: we use everything. Anything I see or experience, no matter how random or trivial, might just become a piece of "the story behind the story."



LK: Let's talk about your novels, specifically Reasons to Be Happy, which is about a protagonist that struggles with bulimia. I'm so happy you discuss eating disorders in this book. So many novels focus on mental health such as depression with minimal representation of characters that struggle with eating disorders. Why bulimia? What do readers learn from this story?



KK: All of my stories have begun with a social issue I care deeply about (and because I'm such a sucker for comeback stories, second chance stories, and phoenix stories, those issues tend to be tough ones). I've written about AIDS, addiction, divorce, marriage and same-sex marriage, child abuse, body image and eating disorders, but I don't really choose the topics based on how dark or tough they are. I'm fascinated by human resilience. One of my favorite quotes is from Ernest Hemingway. He said, "The world breaks everyone. And, afterwards, some are strong at the broken places." I just love that. All of my stories are in some way or another about people becoming stronger at their broken places. Because, let's face it, life kicks us all in the teeth at some point or another. Some people don't just survive, but go on to thrive after their struggle. I think every novel I've ever written shares that theme. I'm far more interested in the "stronger at" part of that quote than the "broken" part. I don't choose tough topics to drag readers to dark places. I choose them for the redemption and hope at the recovery and outcome.



Reasons to Be Happy is my first novel for the tween audience and it came from my experiences as a middle school teacher. I grew so disheartened by a particular phenomenon I saw unfold over and over again: bright, bold, curious girls -- strong and confident in their abilities --would hit the wall of self-doubt in sixth or seventh grade. They'd lose all sense of their own unique identity, stop taking any risks, and retreat into approval-seeking behaviors that made them all seem like watered-down clones of each other. Because I taught where the high school was on the same campus, I'd get to see my former students as they grew up and evolved, so I knew that mid-high school, most girls came through this on the other side, regaining their "personhood" and courage. But why did they have to go through it at all? Why were a few exceptional girls strong enough to withstand this challenge while others (who seemed equally exceptional) were not? And why was body image still such a huge part of this identity crisis? I'd studied classical ballet very seriously when I was younger, so I'd seen firsthand some varying levels of eating disorders. Then, when I was teaching middle school and high school, I had the experience of working with therapists and parents when my students fell into such behavior as well. I've long been fascinated with all kinds of addiction, and, really, an eating disorder is a kind of addiction. Like all addictions, the only way to stop it is to truly examine and explore why it began and what the person is getting from it. Until you recognize the source, or the need it fills, treatment will be very ineffective. It's necessary to find something else to fill that same need...but that's not possible until you know what it is. Eating disorders are just that: disorders. It's very complicated psychology. It struck me that I'd rarely seen that aspect of eating disorders dealt with in young adult or tween books, and so I thought that might be my twist on an eating-disorder story, which is what also led to the parallel story with Hannah's father's alcoholism. The other twist, I believe, was setting three fourths of the novel in Ghana in West Africa. I plunk a bulimic from LA down into a culture where she has no idea what's even considered beautiful.



LK: How is the main character in Reasons to Be Happy beautiful? Is finding ourselves considered beautiful, or is it the journey?



KK: What I hope readers take away from the book is that our authentic selves are so much more interesting and beautiful (and less maintenance!) than anything we manufacture to please others. It takes Hannah being completely removed from every cultural thing she knows, for her to be kind to herself and accept her own body. We all spend so much time comparing ourselves, judging ourselves against that teensy percentage of women who are supermodels (airbrushed supermodels, thank you very much) instead of accepting our imperfections and embracing our own unique beauty. Hannah discovers that what she perceived as an imperfection is actually one of her strengths. I personally believe that passion and happiness are the greatest beauty enhancements out there. When someone is doing what they truly love to do, they are more beautiful than someone holding themselves back from doing what they love because they fear disapproval from others.



LK: Talk about "working your ass off to be a full-time writer." What does that mean? Tell me more about this. What sucked? Share your victories.



KK: It's an odd thing, really. When I was a full-time teacher, I worked harder as a writer than I have since. I moved to live four minutes from my school, to cut down my commute and give me more writing time. I rose at five each morning, to put in two hours of writing before I left for school. I was focused and on fire. I dreamed about being able to write full time one day...and I'm thrilled to say I managed to pull that off. Okay, okay, so I only pulled it off for about two years, but I did it, and it felt like a monumental accomplishment. My third novel, The Kindness of Strangers, won the 2006 Great Lakes Book Award for Fiction and did well enough for me to leave my full-timing teaching position. For two full years I lived on book money alone, and during those two years I embarked on my Year as a Gypsy, where I put together my own frugal version of Eat, Pray, Love, living and writing in different places (several months in a tiny town in the Litchfield Hills of Connecticut, several months in a loft in Park Slope, Brooklyn). But it's very difficult to live this way. Book money is not money you can count on, and you really only get paid twice a year (and you have no idea how big those checks will be). I realized I valued more security, which is a good thing to learn about yourself. I'm still not full-time anywhere other than my writing office, but these days I do teach creative writing a great deal, from middle school gifted programs, to university classes, and writing conferences, and I have a fantastic part-time job with the Miami Valley Fair Housing Center...which is giving me loads of material for my next novel. But my biggest triumph is that I was able to create the work day that works for me -- I'm able to keep my best, most productive writing time (mornings) for myself and put together days that feed my creativity instead of draining it.



LK: I read you always wanted to be a vampire. Ever consider taking the plunge if that were a reality?



KK: I'm still a lover of vampires, zombies, and all things creepy. I read King's Salem's Lot when I was probably far too young to read such a book and became fascinated by vampires. I even took the screen out of my bedroom window (unbeknownst to my poor parents) in hopes that if a vampire showed up floating outside my window like they did in Salem's Lot, I could invite it inside and get it to make me one, too. Obviously, I hadn't thought this through -- I was simply attracted to the idea of getting to live forever. I knew, even at a very young age, that I would never be able to squeeze into one lifetime all the stuff I hoped to accomplish. I completely failed to consider the whole drinking-blood-only-going-out-at-night-losing-everyone-I-love aspect of this prospect. I think it's safe to say I would not take the plunge if offered today, but I will always have a soft spot in my heart for the idea. And taking the screen out of my window? That did not end well. I did get a fanged visitor, but it was not immortal or undead -- it was a very live possum. I'm not going to spoil anything here because that story is used in Reasons to Be Happy. I'll just say again, "my poor parents."

The 'Bada Bing' of a Novel

I occasionally read a novel in which there are many references to popular culture in the storyline. This is particularly true in James Hynes's hauntingly disturbing and must-read novel, Next. Among other popular cultural references, Next reads:

"...so he orders an iced tea.

"With legs?" says the golden blond, absently pressing a key on the register.

"Pardon?" Starbucks is like its own country, you have to know the silly argot.

"To go?" says the fortysomething woman, in a rising Texas singsong. "'With legs' means 'to go.'"

Dina Tartt's beautifully-written novel, The Goldfinch is replete with popular references. Early in the novel, the narrator's mother says to Theo:

"Upper Park is one of the few places where you can still see what the city looked like in the 1890s. Gramercy Park too, and the Village, some of it. When I first came to New York I thought this neighborhood was Edith Wharton and Franny and Zooey and Breakfast at Tiffany's all rolled into one."

For me, the value of pop-culture references is their ability to make the novel come alive, providing the social and cultural backdrop for enriching the read. I can relate to ordering in a Starbucks or browsing online at Amazon. These references link me tightly to the novel's characters and situations, and draw me deeper into the reading experience.



Popular culture references can be a shorthand way of conveying vivid images. In their own unique way, they can enrich the read, if they're not over-used. Incorporating the names of people, products, films and television shows within the story can bring immediacy to the narrative.



We all know what comes to mind when we read recognizable names. They're already embedded in our consciousness.



If a character says, "Bada Bing," we think of The Sopranos; "Yada Yada," we're back watching a Seinfeld episode. "You're fired!" we see Donald Trump. If a protagonist is being patted down by a TSA agent at an airport, we relate immediately. The images and situations provide more than atmosphere; they place us in the contemporary novel.



An older reference to an earlier time can provide a sense of nostalgia. If you say a particularly evil woman reminds you of the Wicked Witch of the West, doesn't that conjure an instant image? Imagery is crucial. It's what opens the eyes of the reader's imagination.



Bada Bing fits perfectly When the Moment is Right.



--



Mark Rubinstein is the author of Mad Dog House and Love Gone Mad

What's New On Netflix In April 2014: 'House,' 'Mean Girls' And More

That Viral UNC Student Athlete's Final Paper Was Actually Plagiarized

In an ESPN report on academic scandal at the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill involving student athletes, the world got a look at an example of a lackluster final paper submitted by a student who reportedly received an A- as his final grade.



The paper went viral as the Internet reacted to how simple the short essay on Rosa Parks was. But it turns out the paper was actually plagiarized.



A reader sent along a photo of the first page of a children's book called "Rosa Parks: My Story," by Parks and Jim Haskins. It's unmistakably similar:







And here's the image of the student athlete's paper from the ESPN report:







Julius Nyang’oro, the former head of UNC’s African-American studies program, faces criminal charges for allegedly receiving payment for classes that never met. The university said earlier this year it would conduct an independent review of academic irregularities, in addition to any ongoing investigations by law enforcement into potential criminal aspects.

On English Folklore

Sometimes people ask whether England has any folklore. Scotland has plenty, and Wales, and of course Ireland -- but England?



I must admit that we have very few fairytales, no national costume, and most of our legends and customs are local rather than nation-wide, but look how colourful, and often quite gloriously silly those legends and customs are! Mostly, we don't know when or why they started, but we keep them going, adding new bits to fit the new times we live in. They are crazy; they are fun.



The Folklore of Discworld available from Anchor Books




Take, for instance, the Haxey Hood Game. In January every year a crowd of several hundred men representing two rival villages gathers on a muddy field in Lincolnshire. A man dressed as a Fool gets up on a rock and makes a speech, while straw is set alight all round him. Then the 'hood' is flung into the crowd and all the men hurl themselves onto it in a mighty scrum. The idea is to carry it into one or other of the two pubs which are the goals of the game, but the heaving and shoving is so strong that this may well take all day.



The 'hood' is actually a thick piece of rope covered in leather, but the story goes that way back in the Middle Ages a certain Lady Mowbray's hood blew off on a windy day. Thirteen farm labourers went chasing after it and brought it back, and she gratefully gave them half an acre of land each, provided they and their descendants chased the hood every year for ever.



Or consider the Hunting of the Mallard at All Souls' College, Oxford. It began in Tudor times as an annual custom, but later was just once every hundred years, being held in 1801, 1901, and 2001. A mallard is a kind of duck. According to legend, workmen found one in a drain when they were laying the foundations of the College in 1437, but it escaped and flew away. So the College decided to hold a 'Mallard Night', with a long and lavish dinner for all the dons. At midnight they set out in procession, carrying lanterns and torches, hunting for the lost bird all over the building, from cellar to attic, and singing the Mallard Song. The chorus goes:



Ho, the Blood of King Edward!

By the Blood of King Edward!

It was a swapping, swapping Mallard!



Nobody has any idea which of the various King Edwards is meant, or indeed why a king is mentioned at all. It's all quite daft, but good traditions usually are.



There have been a few changes over the centuries. People don't now clamber out onto the roof, as they once did. Originally a real live duck would be their quarry, and when they caught it they would bite its head off and drink its blood. This little detail was quietly dropped in 1801, and now a wooden duck is used instead. But on the whole the College still does what it has done for a good 500 years.



As for folktales, I absolutely love our local legends, of which there are hundreds, all over the country. Some are horrific, others funny, others merely odd, but all are in some way tied to real places we can visit any day. Within just ten miles of where I live I could show you these: a bottomless pool where a dragon used to live, till a local lad poisoned it; a clump of trees where, if you run round seven times, the devil appears and gives you a bowl of soup; a grave where a man is buried head down, and another, shaped like a pyramid, in which a man is sitting at a table with a bottle of port beside him; a gash in a hill, dug by the devil till he was tricked and driven off by an old woman; a secret tunnel leading to a pot of gold, but guarded by huge snakes; a church whose finest bell was stolen by Vikings, but it sank their ship, and now lies under the sea, still sometimes ringing; a tree under which there are skeletons, which come out to dance at midnight on Midsummer Eve. All that in one corner of Sussex!



Other counties are just as rich in stories about features in their landscape. Where there are large scattered rocks, you get tales of giants hurling them at one another, or at churches. Stone circles? Those are said to be groups of girls, or members of a wedding party, who were turned to stone for the terrible sin of dancing on a Sunday. A dramatic bridge? The Devil built it, on condition he could kill and carry off whoever was first to cross it, but was cheated when a clever man sent his dog across. There are hollow hills where sleeping heroes lie; secret tunnels, down which some fiddler went, and never returned; roads patrolled by supernatural black dogs with fiery eyes; phantom coaches, headless horsemen, ghostly white ladies, will o' the wisps, assorted bogies and hobgoblins . . .



Other tales are about people and events of the past, rather than places. Often they are about some long-dead member of a local landowning family, either a hero who established the family fortunes by a gallant deed (e.g. killing a monstrous boar or even a dragon), or else a wicked murderer and tyrant -- in which case, he may well haunt his old domain. Such ghosts are described in dramatic detail. There is Black Vaughan, a wicked medieval knight in Herefordshire, who appeared as a huge bull, but was eventually driven down into a snuffbox, and laid in a pond; and Lady Howard, who lived in Devon in the seventeenth century, but still drives along a certain route every night, in a coach made of human bones and topped by four skulls, because (they say) she murdered three of her four husbands.



The Victorian folklorists who first collected these old legends assured their readers that many local people still seriously believed them. Now nobody does, but they still make very good, dramatic stories, which we can admire and enjoy even if we are telling them just for fun.

Darren Aronofsky's Poem 'The Dove', Written At Age 13, Is What Started It All (Full Text)

Darren Aronofky's film 'Noah' is on its way to box office success with $44 million in box office sales in its first weekend. The road to the movie's opening has been a long one including over ten years in development; but the genesis for the film goes back far further.



When Mr. Aronofsky was 13 and attending Mark Twain Intermediate School 239 in Brooklyn, he penned a poem for his 7th grade teacher Mrs. Vera Fried called 'The Dove.' The poem, based on the Genesis story of Noah, was submitted by his teacher for a contest at the UN where it won a prize for its theme of peace; a message still needed today: "Evil is hard to end and peace is hard to begin but the rainbow and the dove will always live within every mans' heart."



Here is a copy of the original poem:







J.H.S. 239

January 13, 1982



Aronofsky, Darren



7A-115-S-4



The Dove



Evil was in the world. The laughing crowd left the foolish man and his ark filled with animals when the rain began to fall. It was hopeless. The man could not take the evil crowd with him but he was allowed to bring his good family. The rain continued through the night and the cries of screaming men filled the air. The ark was afloat. Until the dove returned with the leaf, evil still existed. When the rainbows reached throughout the sky the humble man and his family knew what it meant.



The animals ran and flew freely with their new born. The fog rose and the sun shone. Peace was in the air and it soon appeared all of man's heart.



He knew evil could not be kept away for evil and war could not be destroyed but neither was it possible to destroy peace.



Evil is hard to end and peace is hard to begin but the rainbow and the dove will always live within every mans' heart.

Why Your Dialogue Is Terrible

I'm pretty sure your dialogue is terrible.



Most novelists aren't hugely enamored of dialogue, and I say that with a mixture of acceptance and confusion, because I love it. Dialogue is usually my favorite part, and I often have to force myself to write less of it.



I'm not completely positive good dialogue writing can actually be taught, but since that would invalidate the entire point of this article I'm going to try and explain some of what makes that dialogue of yours bad, and what you can do to fix it.





The dialogue doesn't follow basic logic.

This is going to sound incredibly dumb and obvious, but here is how conversations are supposed to work. Person A -- we'll call him Bob -- says something. Person B -- Cindy -- says something that is in response to what Bob said. Then Bob responds to what Cindy said, and off we go, having a proper bit of dialogue.



Here's the problem. Writers have specific information to convey through dialogue, and sometimes we forget that the characters don't care what our agenda is. That leads to conversations like:



Bob: Let's go to dinner.

Cindy: There was a fire when I was a child.



Cindy isn't listening to Bob, Cindy is listening to the author trying to introduce a plot point.



To get to Cindy talking about the fire we're going to have to find a way for Bob to say something that will lead Cindy there. It should not be easy, but if we do it right we can make the conversation and Bob and Cindy more interesting.



Characters are being treated as plot devices.

Sometimes characters are so underdeveloped it feels like their only purpose is to give more important characters a way to express themselves. This is also known as the best friend of the female lead role in every romantic comedy ever. Here's Bob and Cindy:



Bob: What was that thing about your childhood that you wanted to tell me all about?

Cindy: The fire!

Bob: Why don't you talk about it now?

Cindy: Okay.



This is what happens when we know we have to direct the conversation -- my first point -- but are still cheating, because Bob has no kind of existence outside of who he is to Cindy. In other words, Bob is here to make Cindy's monologue look dialogue-ish.



To get out of this trap we need to embrace the notion that every character in our story thinks they are the main character, with lives outside of the plot. We don't need to know anything about those lives, but we have to write characters that do know.



It's too on-the-nose.

On-the-nose writing is what we call it when a character says exactly what they are feeling, and the reason it's always awkward and terrible is that in the real world nobody knows exactly what they are feeling, ever.



Cindy: It's hard for me to love you because of the fire that happened when I was a child, which killed my family.



Generally speaking, people aren't this self-aware, and even if they were they wouldn't articulate things about themselves this simply and clearly. Far worse, this is just boring and lazy writing. This is the kind of character feature that should be demonstrated, but once it's spoken aloud it loses all of the impact it could have on the overall story.



Remember that sometimes the most interesting part of dialogue is what isn't being said. Reticence, avoidance, subject-changes, awkward laughter, mood swings, these are all the things that characters are built out of, and they are more about what isn't being articulated. On-the-nose writing deprives us of all of this.



There's an overload of exposition.

It's possible we are trying to convey too much information in the dialogue.



Bob: Your family died?

Cindy: Yes, they were trapped in the attic of the house on the day of the big fire. They were hiding there because of hurricane Camille, unaware of the serial arsonist who had just escaped from the mental institution.



There are ways to deliver exposition in dialogue, and it's even possible for one person to give what amounts to a prepared speech, but it needs to be treated exactly like that. It can't just appear in the middle of a conversation. There are very few compound sentences in real dialogue, and it's unusual for one person to speak more than two or three sentences before the other person is given a chance to reply.



Another thing to keep in mind when dealing with expository dialogue is that it will work better if both speakers discover something together through their conversation, rather than one person delivering all the facts to the other person.



You've been using clichés.

Sometimes we don't fully realize we're using clichés while we're writing them -- or worse, we think this is how dialogue is supposed to go.



Bob: Let's get one more drink for the road.

Cindy: You bet your ass.



We know -- I think -- people don't actually talk like this. But when writing fiction we are often putting characters into situations we have never been in ourselves, and sometimes this means referencing the only familiarity we do have, which is other works of fiction. So if writing a scene involving a gunfight, when the hero is saying stuff like "here goes nothing" and "we've got company," this is the writer drawing from their own experience. Unfortunately, that experience was in a movie theater.



When I have uncovered clichés in my own work (in edits -- hopefully none have escaped out into the world) it was a consequence of my not entirely paying attention to the conversation. That is, I wasn't thinking about the words, only the message.





That's probably the biggest takeaway from all of these points: pay attention. Bad dialogue is often just lazy dialogue, written as a means to an end rather than an end unto itself. (This might be a cliché. I'm sorry.) I can't teach you to love dialogue, but if you respect it and pay attention to the above points, you can perhaps learn to not hate it any more.





G Doucette is the author of the just-released Sapphire Blue, and (as Gene Doucette) the author of Immortal, Hellenic Immortal and Fixer.

So, You Want to Write a Book?*

(*Awesome. I'm always looking for good books to read.)



Recently, I've had a spate of people contact me, looking for help writing a book. Not editing or grammatical help, thank god, but help more along the lines of: "I wasn't an English major...can I write a book?" Questions like this make my inner obnoxious teenager want to roll her eyes and say, "I don't know, can you?" Listen, you're the one who wants to write a book; why do you need my, or anyone's, permission? Your human experience is valid. What you have to say is as valid as what anybody else has to say. Get to work. Also, as you probably know, the best writing comes from confidence: You're the author, take charge!



But the more I coach, the more I understand that empty, so-called "motivational" phrases aren't helpful, and in actuality, can cause a great deal of anxiety to people who have something important to say, but are still developing the confidence to believe in themselves. With those good people in mind, here's some steps to help you get started writing. (When you thank me in the credits page of your best seller, please remember to spell my first name with one "T.") Good luck!



1. Tell a story you care about. I personally am not interested in genres; I'm interested in characters who are believable and interesting stories. I'm interested in ideas. I know I'm not the only one who feels this way, and who buys books, accordingly. If you want to write a paranormal romance, or whatever, instead of speaking to ten different "book coaches," and asking them if there's a market for your work, i.e. asking strangers for permission, realize there's always a market for good writing. Alternatively, if you decide you're only going to write something "trendy" or a sure-fire hit...what exactly would that be? Not to mention, for every classic that changed people's lives, there's a million other people out there who roll their eyes at the same book. Can't please everyone. But if you care about your story, you'll present it in a way that makes other people care. Give people some credit: trends come and go, but good writing always finds an audience.



2. Make a commitment to write every single day. If nothing else, set the egg-timer for 15 minutes, turn off your phone, Facebook, Pinterest, silence all beeping devices and write. You can read a thousand and one books about how to write a book...or, you know, you could set aside 15 minutes in the morning or evening, depending on your writing personality, and start writing paragraphs. Paragraphs lead to pages. Pages lead to chapters. Get enough chapters and oh my goodness, what do we have here? You wrote your first book. (You're welcome, America.)



3. You have to make the time in your life for this book TODAY. Life won't wait. It drives me crazy to hear people say, "Well, one day, I kinda want to write a book." One day when? If it's hard to write a book today, why on earth would you think it'll be easier in a year or three? No, the longer you wait, the harder it'll get. The less confidence you'll have. If you want to write a book decide that SOMEDAY is TODAY, and set aside 15 minutes today, RIGHT NOW, and start writing. Tell fear to get fucked, and commit to your better angels. Write an outline, write the first paragraph, write a title page. Write something and make your book become a little bit more alive. It's a process. But you have to get started to begin the process.



4. Write more, ask for permission less. If you feel you're not qualified to write a book until, for example, you graduate from the Iowa Writers' Workshop, understand that what you're really doing is giving yourself an excuse to not write. How likely is it that you'll get accepted to some prestigious workshop, or get an agent? Thus, how likely is it you're going to be able to avoid writing the book inside of you? Listen, you're not cheating anyone but yourself. But I think you deserve better.



5. Don't worry about being published, getting an agent, or anything like that. Just. Write! If you decide that you're not going to write your book because, well, Carlota, the publishing industry is in tatters, and um it's really hard to get published, and hey is that my phone ringing, I gotta go...Listen, you don't owe me any excuses. It's not my dreams you're destroying. You're just hurting yourself, and the people who might have loved your writing. Before you decide that you can only write if William Maxwell is your editor, how about you just simma down and start writing. If you can only do something if you're 100 percent sure it'll work out perfectly...how do you get up in the morning? How do you live your life? There are no guarantees in this weird, messy, frenetic, heartbreaking, marvelous world of ours.



Relationships come and go, friends drift away, people we love die, we age and life, inexorably, continues. For every published author's book you see in the stores, you know how many other unpublished, unreadable, failed manuscripts he might have in a box in the basement? Maybe he had to write all those books to get to the book that worked. Does that mean that the other books were failures? No, failure is giving up, or even worse, never starting. The other thing, that thing about trying again and again, that's called life. You're going to have to believe in yourself, and the importance of your story and commit to that. You're going to have to accept that no, not everyone will like your book, but there will be readers who will stay awake all night to finish your book, feeling a little less alone in the world. What a triumph that would be!



True story: when I was 17, I wrote a one-act play that went on to win the 1991 Young Playwrights Festival, and be produced off-Broadway, under the direction of Mark Brokaw. I wrote a one-act play about characters that interested me for me. The play is about two men in prison, so clearly it did not arise from my personal experience. It came from reading (almost) every play in the New York Public Library, and writing about people who interested me. Then, with my playwrighting teacher's help, I submitted the play to the Festival and won. If I had written a play to be popular, or if I had decided that well, I'm 17, what the hell valuable do I have to say, I would have lost out on some life-changing experiences. Start writing and stop censoring yourself! (Get to work. Seriously.)



Finally, I urge you to write the book(s) inside of you, because if nothing else, that process, and the confidence, hope and pride it brings is bound to change at least one person's life...yours.



If any of these hints helped you get started writing, I'm truly thrilled. If you have your own hints, awesome, please tell me in the comments, or, if you're feeling shy, don't hesitate to email me at carlotazee@gmail.com!

Prison books row: justice secretary could face legal action, says lawyer

Leading human rights lawyer Geoffrey Robertson QC intervenes against Chris Grayling as Nick Clegg backs book-sending ban

Campaigners fighting the Ministry of Justice over a ban on books being sent to prisoners on Monday threatened to take their battle to the courts.

The leading human rights lawyer Geoffrey Robertson QC, who has offered his services for free, said legal action could be taken against the justice secretary Chris Grayling for acting "unlawfully and irrationally".

Prison books row: justice secretary could face legal action, says lawyer

Leading human rights lawyer Geoffrey Robertson QC intervenes against Chris Grayling as Nick Clegg backs book-sending ban

Campaigners fighting the Ministry of Justice over a ban on books being sent to prisoners on Monday threatened to take their battle to the courts.

The leading human rights lawyer Geoffrey Robertson QC, who has offered his services for free, said legal action could be taken against the justice secretary Chris Grayling for acting "unlawfully and irrationally".

Enter the Guardian children's fiction prize 2014

Submissions are now open for publishers to enter the Guardian children's fiction prize 2014. The closing date is midnight Tuesday 6 May 2014

The Guardian children's fiction prize was founded in 1967. It is awarded annually to fiction written for children aged eight and above, and is the only children's fiction award selected by fellow writers.

Previous winners of the prize include Mark Haddon for The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, Northern Lights by Philip Pullman, How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff, The Illustrated Mum by Jacqueline Wilson and Frank Cottrell Boyce for The Unforgotten Coat and Rebecca Stead with Liar for Spy.

Nikolaj Coster-Waldau Says Jaime Lannister Of 'Game Of Thrones' Is A 'Monogamous Man'

A lot has changed for Jaime Lannister over the past three seasons of "Game of Thrones," but one thing remains the same: he's a one woman kind of man.



As the HBO series enters its fourth season this Sunday, April 6, we'll find Jaime back at King's Landing, but as an almost completely changed man. He's rugged beard and long hair have been swapped for a clean-shaven look, and from the many Season 4 trailers, he's a bit bitter toward Cersei, his sister and lover.



Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, who plays Jaime, told Entertainment Weekly in an interview that Jaime and Cersei's relationship will be different than before. "He’s been wanting to get back to this woman for the duration of his trip," Coster-Waldau said. "You want to just go back to the way it was. But it’s not that easy."



And what about Brienne? An unusual tenderness grew between the badass blonde warrior and Jaime last season when they both saved each other's lives, so is an affair bound to happen? “I don’t think he’s aware of any romance,” Coster-Waldau told EW. “On a fundamental level he respects and cares for this woman. I don’t think he’s thought of it.” The actor also added that Jaime's not the type to juggle two women. "He’s a monogamous man," he said.



We guess we're in for a lot more incest, with a touch of added tension.



"Game of Thrones" Season 4 premieres on HBO on April 6.

Paper vs digital reading is an exhausted debate

Tim Waterstone's claim that ebooks are in decline isn't persuasive and there are far more urgent matters for readers to discuss

The digital revolution is going into a decline, Tim Waterstone told the Oxford literary festival. Well, it's an attention-grabbing statement, ideally suited to our culture of assertive headlines, but it's probably not true. That's not to say that the rapid growth of digital will necessarily continue, either, certainly not in markets that are already saturated with handheld devices.

Geek the Library -- Literally

Libraries across the country are participating in a nationwide campaign called "Geek the Library" which seeks to spread awareness about the vital role libraries play in their communities and how they are funded. Throughout the campaign, library patrons, community leaders, and politicians are all lining up in droves to have their pictures taken to share what they "geek" --i.e. what they are passionate about and have a heightened interest in.



At Coffee County Lannom Library in Tullahoma, Tennessee, a masked library supporter, TK-7693, simultaneously wished to help spread library awareness and lay to rest the rumors that all stormtroopers are one-dimensional-brainless-sith-lord-followers-who-can't-shoot-straight.



Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present, "The Stormtrooper Geeks!"



































And last, but most certainly not least...





To learn more about Geek the Library, and to help spread awareness of how libraries are funded, visit http://ift.tt/OUl85s

Actually, I'm Not at All Sorry I'm Not Sorry

Plenty of undesirable words have worked their way into my vocabulary. "Like" certainly slips out more than I care to admit, I'm quite sure I've obnoxiously said things along the lines of "BRB" out loud and I routinely use curse words as nouns, verbs and adjectives (sometimes all in the same sentence). But over the years, no word has become such a stubborn but undesirable addition to my lexicon as "sorry."



At some point, I began using "sorry" as a synonym for "excuse me." It came to mean, "I didn't see you there and you startled me!" and "I have a question" and "I'm carrying so many things that I'm taking up more space on the subway than usual." It rarely meant, "I made a poor decision or did something wrong and it impacted you negatively. I recognize this and feel bad about it and would like to make things better between us."



I'm certainly not alone in the habit. Report after report show that women overuse "sorry," and my own ad hoc research confirmed this. For a couple of weeks, I took notes on when people told me they were sorry. Women offered apologies all the time, and hardly ever for reasons that merited one: They were washing a dish in the office sink while I waited to fill my water bottle; their food was in a microwave I'd tried to use; they nearly bumped into me walking out of a room I was trying to walk into. Men, on the other hand, were apt to say things like, "Sink's all yours!" And, "Let me get that out of your way." And, "Excuse me, go ahead." None of these things are any less polite than a submissive "sorry."



I decided it was time to cut it out: no more frivolous use of "sorry" for me. I could be a polite and effective communicator without apologizing for things I had every right to be doing.



This was far more easily said than done. I don't know at what point I learned this behavior, but it is deeply ingrained -- and proved very difficult to unlearn.



In the first few days, I was hyper-aware of my urge to say that I was sorry, but that didn't necessarily mean that I said it any less. Some sentences just didn't feel complete without it. I'd squeak out a friendly "excuse me, please" from the back of a crowded elevator when it hit my floor, but it just didn't seem like enough. By the time I had shuffled my way out the doors, I'd given in and added a "sorry" to all the people I had brushed past. What was I apologizing for? That's literally how elevators work: They fill up with people, they stop at floors and people get off of them. Sometimes the people who get on first also get off first, and the other elevator riders have to spend approximately four seconds of their day stepping aside for them. It's a pretty basic social contract, and certainly nothing I could control.



Another repeated challenge: asking questions, particularly at work. How was I supposed to start a conversation, whether in person or over Gchat, with someone who was engrossed in their own work without kicking it off with "Sorry, but can I ask you something..."? Again, I had to wonder: What was I sorry for? For not knowing something? There's no shame in that. For wanting to know something? I have every right to seek out information that is not only relevant to my work but that would arguably make me better at it. For interrupting -- or, god forbid, bothering -- someone? That's a more legitimate concern, but I decided that instead of starting the interaction with an unnecessary apology, it would be just as good -- no, better -- to say thanks for their time, attention and knowledge.



What I realized is that there's a subtle -- and yet, very important -- difference between acknowledging being involved in inconveniencing someone and taking the blame for it. If terrible traffic makes me late to meet someone, I'll give them a heads up as soon as I can, recognize that waiting sucks and thank them genuinely for their patience. Maybe I'll buy them a cup of coffee as a sign of appreciation. I will not act as if I'm at fault for the three-car pile-up that caused miles of gridlock. If I'm walking along a narrow sidewalk toward someone else, and that person stops to let me pass, I'll smile and thank them and pick up my pace. I will not say "sorry," as if I've made some error in judgment by taking up space in a public place.



That's not to say I don't screw up sometimes. I do. Royally. I can be impatient and impetuous and insensitive, and all sorts of other things that lead me to make mistakes. And when those mistakes happen, I say -- and really mean -- "I'm sorry." This isn't about not holding myself accountable for my actions; it's about no longer reflexively blurting out an apology I don't really owe. It's about changing my default setting from unnecessary guilt.



"Sorry" had become a crutch for me -- and for many other women, I'm sure. Saying it was a habit, and one that seemed pretty harmless, as far as habits go. But overusing "sorry" is a lazy way of communicating that comes with a lot of baggage. These off-hand apologies may have implied that I was polite, friendly and respectful, but they also indicated a host of other attributes, including that I was meek and felt inadequate. Those last two traits are not part of the image I want to project -- and most importantly, that's not how I want to feel.

An Open Letter to Hannah Horvath About the MFA

Dear Hannah,



I hear you've been accepted to the prestigious Iowa Writers' Workshop. USA TODAY reports that, while that MFA program's director found your acceptance "a complete surprise," she "mentally added [you to] the list of people to call" as she talks with incoming students. Some people doubted your writing talent and seriousness, but you've shown those naysayers. Congratulations!



Now, though, the University of Iowa on the whole doesn't actually want you around. You probably understand concerns that you would be a distraction -- sometimes you probably like being a distraction -- and, yes, you might portray the university inaccurately. This rejection may lead you to think about whether an MFA is right for you and, if so, which program is the best fit. These are matters that any MFA applicant should think through, and you may want to look around.



Apply to MFA programs for reasons that match what an MFA can offer.



Creative writing is a discipline of practice, of doing. If you want to write, a couple of years in an MFA program may be a great choice. If you want to push yourself beyond what you can already do and are willing to hear criticism and revise your work, then you're probably ready for an MFA.



If you want to be a writer but don't really want to write a lot -- as in, pretty much every day -- then you should probably hold off on graduate school. If you just want to hang out with writers because we're the cool kids, you'll be wasting your time and ours.



If you think that an MFA and a teaching assistantship lead to a cushy job as a professor, rethink your decision because most of the few tenure-track creative writing jobs out there every year require a published book to get hired. Then, once you land the job, in addition to continuing to publish and teach, the job requires advising, committee work, and other tasks not directly related to writing. I'm happy being a professor, and you might be too, but a teaching assistantship is primarily designed as minimal financial support to help you during the MFA.



Sure, a TA-ship is teaching experience, but if teaching is your goal, consider K-12 certification, which also offers summers off for writing. If you don't really want to teach, look at programs with competitive fellowships or scholarships that don't require teaching -- a good gig, probably better than scraping by in New York City.



Apply to MFA programs that are a good fit for you.



The Iowa Writers' Workshop was the first and is still considered the best MFA by many. But if you want to write creative nonfiction -- and, Hannah, nonfiction may be your strength -- that's not the place for you. A lot of programs, including Iowa's workshop, cover only fiction and poetry, and many require you to decide and stick with your genre from the get-go. Others, like my own Chapman University in Southern California, cover more genres and a wide array of aesthetics and allow students to work across these areas. Look at the professors at different programs and see what they're up to in their published work and in their teaching because neither faculty or programs are cookie-cutter versions of each other.



In fact, though numerous programs are likely a good fit for a given student, differences among programs can matter. Iowa State University, near where you've been accepted, has a two-year program focused on environmental writing and writing about place, for instance. The Northeast Ohio MFA is a three-year consortium program in which students can take courses at four universities. Low-residency programs like at Warren Wilson College or Wilkes University would allow you to continue to live in New York City while completing your MFA in short residencies and via correspondence with mentors. If you didn't look at AWP's Guide to Writing Programs, you missed a lot of options.



Use the MFA in ways that work for you and for the program you attend.



Not all published writers earn MFAs. In fact, if you include all editorially reviewed writing that's published, my guess is that the vast majority of writers don't earn an MFA. Not all MFA students go on to publish either, and only a small percentage eventually publishes mainstream books. I know you want to publish your book, but move that goal out of the top-priority position for your MFA years and, instead, focus on learning the craft more deeply and becoming more aware of your choices as a writer and the results of those choices -- from decisions about point of view to word choice in a given sentence.



The time you spend writing in an MFA program and the guidance you experience there can shape your life in ways that lead to publication. But you should also take advantage individually of opportunities to read intensely and discuss what you read with other writers, to hear and talk with visiting writers, and perhaps to work on a literary journal, do archival work with literary texts, or develop skills in print and digital production. Create options for yourself that would be difficult or impossible without the context of an MFA program. Make friends with others who write; hanging out is part of how creative people share and nurture ideas. Build a writing life. Invigorate culture.



Hannah, once you've thought through your options, you'll make a good decision. And if the University of Iowa doesn't want you, another good MFA probably will. As you cast a wider net, consider advice that's out there about the application process, from Cathy Day's blog to the recent piece in Inside Higher Ed.



On The Daily Show, John Irving said that the Iowa Writers' Workshop saved him time -- that's all. But that's everything to a writer who knows how to spend it.



Sincerely, Dr. Anna Leahy

Ted Hughes estate withdraws biographer's access

Jonathan Bate, working on private records for some years, has had permissions to quote blocked 'out of the blue'

The contested life of one of Britain's best-loved poets has erupted into controversy once more, as the estate of Ted Hughes has stopped cooperating with his latest biographer.

Ted Hughes estate withdraws biographer's access

Jonathan Bate, working on private records for some years, has had permissions to quote blocked 'out of the blue'

The contested life of one of Britain's best-loved poets has erupted into controversy once more, as the estate of Ted Hughes has stopped cooperating with his latest biographer.

A Brief Interview With Emma Donoghue

Brief Interviews is a series in which writers discuss language, literature, and a handful of Proustian personality questions.



Emma Donoghue is the author of eight novels and four short story collections, in addition to a number of dramatic productions. Her 2010 novel Room was nominated for the Man Booker Prize. Her latest book, Frog Music [Little, Brown, $27.00] , publishes on April 2.



Where do you like to read?

I couldn’t care less. I leave my body behind and live only in the words, whether that’s reclining on a pillow with Jane Austen or huddled over my phone in the back of a dark taxi. How I like to read is uninterruptedly. (I’m about to head off for weeks of touring, and the airport security queues may be tedious but I know at least I’ll get hour after hour after hour of glorious reading time.) But I take what I can get, even if that’s a snatched paragraph at a time at the kitchen table, in between answering my kids’ questions about the logistical arrangements of the Tooth Fairy.



What did you want to be when you grew up (besides an author)?

I longed to be a ballerina, because of the Veronica at the Wells series of children’s books, and because of my serious, exquisite, inspiring ballet teacher, who died suddenly when I’d only been studying for two years. (One of my big sisters cruelly broke it to me that I would have been too tall, anyway.) Writing was very much Plan B. Which is funny, because I really had no particular talent for dance; I was just seduced by the feminine and tragic mystique of it all.



What's the best thing about being a writer?

Getting to indulge yourself in your own obsessions. You can sit around for hours on end, daydreaming about whatever floats into your head, and googling it, and then claim ‘I worked hard today’! Writing is self-expression at its most satisfying: expression not only of what you’ve ever lived or thought but what you can imagine. (For instance, I put a bitch character in every book: one man or woman who gets to voice all the nasty things I’d never let myself say in real life.) It offers the tiny, reliable pleasures of any craft – forming the grand design, fitting the pieces together, polishing and polishing again. As well as being, let’s face it, an ego-trip of the highest order. My most thrilling moments are when readers write to me about my characters as if they are real people. Then I feel like a Dr Frankenstein who’s managed to make new life out of scraps.



What are the most important elements of a good story?

The reader has to care. The books that fail, for me, are the ones in which all sorts of cleverness are displayed, along with great eloquence about many things, but I just don’t give a damn what happens to any of the people. The stakes must be high, which doesn’t mean it has to be Pompeii the day before the eruption, just that your characters have to have a great deal invested in what happens – be it ever so subtle or microcosmic - if you expect your readers to do the same.



What books might your readers be surprised that you enjoy?

Genres that I could never attempt myself, I suppose. Whimsical fantasy – I own everything by Discworld-spinning Terry Pratchett – or tough-guy stuff at its best, such as the impeccable Jack Reacher thrillers of Lee Child. (No, I didn’t see the movie; I was offended at the very idea of sprightly little Tom Cruise pretending to be Jack.)



What bothers you most about the English language today?

The fact that so many people use and generate text in English all day online… but end up with no time to actually read a book. I couldn’t care less whether books are on paper or audio or screen; the important thing is that they’re written by people who know what they’re doing with words, and so can offer you sustained pleasures and excitements that no website can.



What's your favorite word? Why?

Today, it’s limpid. So onomatopoeic: it makes the tiny, moist sound of an insect landing on water, then springing away.

Name Generator: What Would Your Victorian Pen Name Have Been?

No, Binge-Reading Isn't The New Binge-Watching

For a long time, the word binge generally meant one thing in American conversation: eating way too much in one sitting. The word connotes overindulgence, unhealthy excess; when I have two Oreos, I'm having dessert, but when I eat the whole sleeve and half of the next, I'm binging. Afterward, I feel less satisfied than uncomfortably, overly full and a bit queasy.



Thus, this word did seem appropriate to attach to the new trend of watching many episodes of a TV show in a row. After letting Netflix nudge me through 11 straight episodes of Parks and Recreation, House of Cards, or (forgive me) Say Yes to the Dress, I also feel uncomfortable and a bit queasy; rather than savoring the episodes and feeling satisfied by them, I feel a pervading sense of shame over the lost hours and wish I'd just stopped after two. Binge-watching perfectly captures the sense of self-indulgence and excess that follow a full day spent in bed with the laptop open and Netflix set to autoplay.



Proud binge-watchers were quick, however, to recast the term as a hip new activity. Where's the shame, they asked, in devoting several consecutive hours to a finely crafted drama like Orange Is the New Black? Binge-watching simultaneously exhibits a sort of flawed relatability and an aspirational appreciation for culture; there's just something so likable about it. We all binge-watch, and we're all happy to soothe our consciences with the arguable artistic merits of the shows we're gobbling up, or even by celebrating our taste in trash TV as a sign that we're down-to-earth. Binge-watching has become the in thing to do.



Soon, well-meaning booklovers decided TV shouldn't get all the binging. It was time for reading to become a binge activity as well.



Sorry guys, that's where I draw the line. Here's why: Reading is not a binge activity. Reading for long hours at a time is mentally engaging, surrounds the reader with an aura of productivity, and does not leave one with a sense of remorse and embarrassment. No one says, "I was so lazy this weekend. All I did was sit around and read Swann's Way. And then when I finished... I started Infinite Jest! I know, I know, I have a problem."



Besides, the idea that spending several hours with a book needs a new term is an absurd concept. It's called reading. The activity of sitting down with a novel for the afternoon is not a trend; it's just how reading has almost always worked.



TV is a form of entertainment that had, until now, always been limited by the mode of delivery. Each show would air one new episode a week, meaning 30 minutes to an hour of bliss. Even if you were watching on your DVR or Hulu, the situation militated against binge-watching. To save up enough episodes to binge-watch, you had to consciously stockpile episodes. To binge-watch an old show, you had to rent the DVDs. These barriers meant that most of us watched no more than a couple episodes at a time, so that, barring aimless channel-surfing through reruns and infomercials, TV viewing was something enjoyed in relatively brief, contained sections of the day. Just enough for satisfaction.



Netflix, of course, changed all that, first by making it easy to watch old seasons of shows, and then by producing their own content, which they began to dump on the site a season at a time. Suddenly, there was nothing standing in the way of people gulping down shows five to 10 episodes at a time rather than one to two. A trend was born.



To be fair, books haven't always been consumed in full-length form, and like TV shows, they have a proud history of serialization. Books, especially new hardcovers, aren't exactly cheap now, but they were once considered luxury goods, and resources like libraries and cheap paperbacks were not widespread. By printing a new book in monthly or weekly installments, a magazine or newspaper publisher could bring literature to less affluent readers at an affordable price.



Charles Dickens famously published many of his novels in serial form, creating a Breaking Bad-esque sense of anticipation as his stories approached their climaxes. As his story The Old Curiosity Shop neared its conclusion, Dickens received passionate letters from readers begging him to spare the life of the heroine, Little Nell, and there were famous reports of fans mobbing the dock to greet the ship bringing the final installment, calling out to the crew and passengers, "Is Little Nell dead?" Surely these readers would have "binged" on the story of Little Nell had there been a Netflix option for books at the time.



Serialization of books, however, has dwindled significantly in the past hundred years. As printing technology improved and cheap paperbacks began to proliferate in the mid-18th century, readers were increasingly able to find reading material without following a serial in the newspaper. And as the 20th century approached, new media options emerged. If you just wanted a quick bit of entertainment after dinner or a running soap opera to follow, it became easier to tune in to a regular radio drama or, later, TV show.



However, for many decades, radio and TV shows were only available at specific times, on specific channels. If you wanted to catch the next episode, you needed to tune in to the right channel at exactly 8 pm on Thursday. If you didn't care for anything that was being broadcast that night, you were out of luck. Books increasingly filled another niche -- reading a book was an activity that could be done at will and for extended lengths of time. Reading a book could fill a brief wait in the dentist's office, but also a leisurely afternoon at the beach. Back when TV was a rationed commodity, a book was something relatively limitless, a form of entertainment that only needed to end once we finished the whole thing ourselves. The timeframe was up to us.



A recent New York Times article argued that publishers are encouraging binge-reading by releasing books in a series increasingly quickly -- months apart, rather than years. But true binging requires a seamless transition; we're not "binging" on House of Cards because we watch two seasons several months apart, but because each episode in the season is viewed in swift succession. A book, like a season of a TV show, is complete in itself, though it can also be part of a larger story. Reading one book, then the next in the series five months later, does not constitute a particularly meaningful difference in how we read, though it may be a good response to readers' impatience in waiting for series to unfold.



People who cared to read books quickly or in large quantities have long had the ability to do so; I'm sure I'm not the only kid who would burn through stacks of YA novels over weekends and reread favorites so often the bindings fell apart. Recently I've been spending long Sunday afternoons with books like The Goldfinch and Americanah, eagerly churning through the chapters, unable to tear myself away for hundreds of pages at a time because I long to know what happens next. This is not a trend; it's how we read. That's always been the beauty of books.



The push to make "binge-reading" a thing arises from a wonderful impulse. In the age of prestige TV dramas, book lovers want to reaffirm the value of reading. Awkwardly tying books into the binge-watching trend is a valiant attempt to make reading just as hip as watching the first two seasons of Game of Thrones in less than a week. But in 2014, the phrase "binge-reading" seems as redundant as "ATM machine," not to mention an unintended insult to books and reading. The joy of reading has always been its ability to transport us, to not only occupy a quiet Saturday but to stimulate our minds and hearts. A day spent reading is never a day wasted. And it's also not a day spent binging.

Poem of the week: Never Entered Mind by Tom Raworth

This avant-garde poem fizzes with a splintering energy that keeps the reader asking questions and constructing possible meanings

There are no daffodils or pagans dancing in this week's poem, by Tom Raworth, but it bursts on the senses with a spring-like ferocity, closer to Stravinsky than Wordsworth. "Bubble" in line three is suggestive. Language here becomes a series of word-bubbles: some connect, some don't, but perhaps it doesn't matter. This is poetry as linguistic Big Bang, where word-forms are still being born, and are not yet oppressed by the need to bond in logical communities. Of course, this is illusory: the words are laden with histories, some of which coagulate (to steal an idea from the last line). But even as old denotations are recalled, the signifiers assert unusual independence. The title, Never Entered Mind, might be a clue.

On Offence review a 'coolly thoughtful analysis' of the politics of indignation

Richard King's timely study shows that insults have never had such potency, while legislating for hurt feelings is not the answer

Freedom of speech, we are often told by those with access to a dictionary of quotations, does not extend to the right to shout "fire" in a crowded theatre. Sensible-sounding stuff, you might think, if a little hackneyed. Well. The remark is originally credited to the supreme court justice Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr and, says Richard King, "given the analogy's provenance, its ubiquity is hard to fathom": "The case on which Holmes happened to be ruling when these words found their way through his imperial moustache had nothing to do with shouting fire but with a Yiddish-speaking socialist who'd distributed an anti-conscription leaflet to military draftees in 1919. The socialist was being sent to jail not for causing a stampede on Broadway but for protesting against US involvement in the first world war!"

It's a good caution against leaning on "common sense" or, worse, on something so seductively simple as a metaphor, when considering the way we police public debate. There's wide agreement that incitement to violence is a no-no. Where things get fuzzier is when it comes to so-called "hate speech". Is calling somebody a "nigger", a "kike" or a "fag", say, a coded incitement to violence? Or is it an act of symbolic violence (violence against the identity) that civilised society should regard as intolerable?

Harry Potter spin-off Fantastic Beasts to be movie trilogy

Project that began as a Comic Relief book to evolve into three-part 'megamovie' prequel to the Potter series

JK Rowling's Harry Potter spin-off Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them is to be a film trilogy, according to comments made by the head of Hollywood studio Warner Bros.

Kevin Tsujihara broke the news in a profile in the New York Times over the weekend, the newspaper describing the film as "three megamovies".

The 100 best novels: No 28 New Grub Street by George Gissing (1891)

George Gissing's portrayal of the hard facts of a literary life remains as relevant today as it was in the late 19th century



Robert McCrum introduces the series

New Grub Street is the first novel in this series explicitly to address, in a realistic narrative, the contemporary working conditions of a new class, the professional author. George Gissing, born the son of a chemist in 1857, was breaking important new ground, as well as responding to significant cultural change in the literary generation after Dickens (David Copperfield) and Thackeray (Pendennis).

By contrast, the eponymous hero of David Copperfield (No 15 in this series) is a writer, of course, but Dickens's focus is chiefly on Copperfield's childhood, not his career as a novelist. He never delves as painfully as Gissing does into the threadbare texture of Victorian literary life.