Kerry Allen

di·plo·ma·cy: skill in handling affairs without arousing hostility *

tact: a keen sense of what to do or say in order to maintain good relations with others or avoid offense; implies delicate and considerate perception of what is appropriate *

cour·te·ous: marked by respect for and consideration of others *

rude: offensive in manner or action; implies ignorance of or indifference to good form; may suggest intentional discourtesy *

If I put my name on a statement, which I always do, rather than hiding behind a nickname or anonymity, it is in my best interest to be diplomatic. The questions I ask myself before committing to a negative comment, in the blogosphere as well as in real life, include:

“Do I feel strongly enough about this subject to potentially offend an audience with my opinion?”

“Is there another way to express my opinion that will come across as less offensive?”

“Is there anything to be gained by expressing an opinion that will potentially alienate an audience? Will I bring anyone around to my way of thinking? Will I receive an obscene amount of money? Will this statement have far-reaching sociopolitical ramifications that will bring about world peace?”

And perhaps most important of all:

“Will alienating this audience have negative consequences for me in the future?”

I recognize the power of words and their lingering effect upon those who hear and read them. I prefer to distribute them with purpose rather than squander them on less-than-worthwhile causes. I compose a great many emails, blog posts, and blog comments in the heat of the moment, which I subsequently delete without sharing because I recognize they are inappropriate.

I would no more visit a blog and insult the blog owner and other guests than I would enter someone’s home and say, “Ew, what is that stink?” It’s a matter of common courtesy, which, sadly, is becoming less common, particularly online.

Some will choose to portray diplomacy, tact, and courtesy as weakness in order to excuse their own lack of civility, whereas the better informed recognize these as traits possessed by those with successful interpersonal relations. It’s much easier to navigate the personal and professional seas when others don’t perceive you as antagonistic and inconsiderate. Presented with two individuals of comparable merit, one of whom has a pleasant demeanor while the other has a perpetually sour disposition, most people will choose to deal with the former.

I have enough to gain, and enough to lose, that I make a conscious effort to be the former.

That does not imply, however, that I cheerfully accept abuse. If you take up my bandwidth to be rude and obnoxious, I feel no further obligation to extend hospitality to you and will block you from commenting further on my blog.

Do feel free to devote as much of your own blog as you wish to your ill opinion of me. Use my name and link to me with abandon, as both contribute to my search engine visibility.

Which leads me to one final question I use to filter my actions:

Am I in any way, directly or indirectly, providing free promotional services for something I hold in low regard?

Now, I’m going to strive to make it to July without feeling compelled again to respond to anyone whose behavioral development ceased in preschool.

* Definitions courtesy of Merriam-Webster Online.

I had some time to read yesterday, and I knew exactly what I wanted. I was on fire to finish reading a particular book. I couldn’t remember why I’d ever put it down because it was so good, and I was going bonkers because I couldn’t find it anywhere. I freaked out because I thought it went in the donation box, and I couldn’t remember the title or the author to buy it again and now I’ll never know what happened…

Then I remembered it wasn’t a book. It was one of the entries in my GH judging packet.

I don’t get that excited about a lot of published books. That one has to final. Has to, or there is no justice in this world.

(And please, Santa, could I get the full manuscript to read? I’m jonesing here.)

Meg Cabot also would rather talk about things she likes than complain about things she doesn’t.

She also feels the need to include a disclaimer that she wasn’t paid to say something positive, for the benefit of those who don’t believe anyone could possibly have anything good to say about anything without being bribed to do so.

I almost feel sorry for people who hate life that much. Not quite, though, since they take such pains to drag everybody else down into the Pit of Pisandmone with them.

Even if you don’t read Meg Cabot’s books, I recommend reading her blog. She makes me laugh every time on a regular basis.

(Can’t say “every time” because her 9/11 story made me cry.)

I did a book purge, including a revisit of the Tower of Unfinishables (still unfinishable, even the two I forced myself to finish because I had quit more than halfway through them), and I believe I have discovered the source of my impatience with those books that frustrate, anger, and occasionally incite me to violent outbursts that damage the drywall.

At the beginning of 2007, which is when this heightened intolerance began, I turned a serious eye toward becoming published. This involved a lot of investigation into “What do they want?” and “What are they looking for?” and “What’s an instant turnoff?” and etc. (”They” being the agents and editors guarding the hallowed gates, and the answer to all those questions being “it varies, except when it doesn’t.”) Basically, I began trying to look at my own writing from more of an editor’s perspective.

Then followed a lot of cutting and tightening and reworking to strengthen those areas where my manuscript was clearly falling short. Not changing the story to make it fit a popular trend or to meet one particular person’s requirements, but ”this is a stronger starting point” and “less emphasis on this secondary character” and “this is unnecessary filler” kind of adjustments that made it even more the story I wanted to tell.

I can’t turn off the new reading style when reading for pleasure. Now when I read a book in which nothing happens in the first 50 pages or there’s idiotic chitchat (What year were you born?/1974./How old are you?—She can’t do the math? Why does she need his age, anyway? Is she filling out a freakin’ insurance form?) or there’s an intrusive amount of description or contradictory characterization (allegedly badass-warrior heroine stands around wringing her hands while her beloved sister is murdered five feet away) or any of the things I’ve had to work to weed out of my writing, I dismiss it as sloppy and lazy and don’t want to waste my time reading something the writer didn’t care enough about to shape up and the editor didn’t insist upon shaping up. I won’t invest my time when they didn’t, and I get grouchy that I invested my money.

It seems my enjoyment of reading has been permanently diminished. Which sucks, frankly. Used to be, every book I met was my friend, and now I view each one with distrust until it proves itself to me. But I feel better having Nancy Drewed the matter of one day at least liking 90 percent of what I read and the next day plummeting to half that, a threshold I can’t overcome.

It’s not you, Unfinishable Book That I Might Have Enjoyed Prior to 2007. It’s me.

But even though I may be judging you too harshly, I’ll still let the dog savage your carcass if you really piss me off, so watch your step…

That would be an awesome party game, but not really what I had in mind while coming up with another lame title.

What I had in mind was “Plagiarism = Theft” buttons for conference goers. Not that goers to certain conferences would want to make that statement when the OMG-her-shoes-are-an-embarrassment-to-us-all platform is available, but a few thousand authors wearing their protest upon their stricken breasts is a beautiful dream.

I hear there’s yet another author who has cut and pasted chunks of someone else’s writing into hers. I hear the excuse this time was something like “It’s research about the spotted pygmy thief rat. It’s not like I ripped off a real writer.”

I’m not going to get into the moral and legal wrongness of plagiarism, which is being done by people far more knowledgeable than I regarding morals and laws. I’m not going to protest for the poor guy who spent ten years of his life camped out in the godforsaken wildnerness studying the spotted pygmy thief rat, five years organizing the accumulated data into a comprehensible format, made $2 in royalties for fifteen years of work, and then gets slapped in the face because it’s okay to steal his work because he’s not an exalted writer of fiction.

Instead, I’m going to teach you proper note-taking technique. It’s easy. I learned it in third grade. There’s really only one rule you need to know.

Never copy a complete sentence.

Here is an example of some of my djinn research that I ultimately discarded because I didn’t like it or need it. (I’d love to show you the scribbly original, but my scanner doesn’t work with Vista.)

djinn (race) — djinni (one)

have tribes of 7 w/king — king controlled by angel — angel’s name torture to the tribe

controlled by humans — see Sulieman (scribbled on top of) Solomon — by magically binding to objects

to enslave — know name, have item or piece of djinn (hair)

There are lines shooting all over the place, linking miscellaneous related and contradictory snippets from a variety of sources. There isn’t a sentence to be found anywhere in this folder. In order to make any sense of it, I would have to write a sentence, all by myself, using at least several of my own words.

Now, if you want really advanced note-taking techniques, you use your own words even when jotting down the non-complete sentences that are your notes, and then when you compose a sentence based upon those notes, the chances of producing an Eerily Similar Sentence are astronomically low, and in that case alone, I might buy an “oops, it was an accident.”

Otherwise, there’s no excuse, it’s not okay, and you are a thief and should be punished accordingly.

I have received a complaint that my “reviews” are biased because I have nothing but good things to say about every book I “review.”

You got me. I am Kaiser Sose Harriet Klausner.

It takes time, thought, effort, and usually a second read to write anything about a book. If I feel like the first read was a waste of time, I refuse to devote more time to the book in question. I won’t even do it for books I merely like, of which there are many. If I’m going to spend more time with a book beyond the last page, it’s because it was so exciting, I want to read it again right away.

If you want bad reviews, there are hundreds of sites in which the reviewers apparently have never read a book they liked. I want to make it perfectly clear right now that this is never going to become one of those sites. The worst trash talk you’re going to get from me is a Reader Peeve or a visit from The Editing Police, either of which may be provoked by a certain book, but since the infractions are rarely unique, I’m still not singling out that particular book or author for ridicule.

Most review sites are a lot like the news. The snapshot presented is that everything is terrible and the world is going to hell, except substitute “all books published today” and “the publishing industry” for the topics under fire. All the focus is on the negative, and it paints a very gloom-and-doom picture that I strongly feel is inaccurate. It’s fine if you’re a “misery loves company” kind of person, but I, for one, have outgrown that phase.

I know the world is full of bad people, tragic events, and lousy books. I’d rather hear about the good all of the above for a change. Instead of complaining about all the negativity (which only adds to the negativity being complained about, a cause-and-effect many people don’t seem to understand), I have made a conscious and deliberate decision to introduce a positive element by sharing my appreciation of books I enjoyed reading.

In conclusion, this blog isn’t a review site. It’s not my job or my hobby to discourage anyone from buying a book I don’t like. I am aware that a book I consider to be a waste of a good tree may be someone else’s favorite book ever, and I’m not interested in challenging that person’s opinion, to which he or she is entitled, by enumerating what I perceive to be its flaws. There is nothing to be gained by anyone if I say, “I hated this book.”

On the other hand, if I think a book is exceptionally good and describe why I think so, someone may say, “Hmm, the things she mentioned make me want to read that book.” Then the writer sells a book, the reader hopefully finds a great read, and everybody benefits.

It’s my tiny little contribution to making the world a more pleasant place in which to live.