One thing about the global economy…it’s January 31st in some places already. Barnes and Noble has the paper editions as well as the Nook version ready to go.
Meanwhile, Amazon is lagging behind, with just the Kindle version and it still is tagged as “preorder” . . . in the U.S. C’mon Jeff, don’t you want more money for your rocketship project? UPDATE: Amazon is up, in Kindle and Trade Paperback editions.
But you can download it from Amazon’s sites for the UK or India.
And it’s up at Canada’s Biggest Bookstore, !ndigo.
Have I got a game for you! You will master the ultimate algorithm, the one that conceals from you the books you love, the writers you want to see more from. This is your day, the day you will take command of the Amazon algorithm and make it do your bidding, release it from its subservience to major publishers and fake reviews, and bring unto yourself all the glory of the liberator.
Your secret weapon? The review.
If you want your favorite writers to succeed, by bringing their stories, information, or artistry (yes–graphic novels are books) to more readers, they need reviews.
Have you noticed, if you search for a book a friend has told you about, but it wasn’t a best-seller, that you had to work hard to find it? That’s because your friend’s recommended book didn’t have enough reviews. Amazon doesn’t like books without a lot of reviews. The great god Bezos promotes only those with at least a couple of dozen reviews. (The true trigger value is a secret, but statisticians tell us that roughly 25 is absolutely necessary to make it into search.) So tell your friend to write a review. Write one yourself.
It’s not hard.
Here are some qualifying reviews:
An actual review, from Smashwords
“I read this book. It was nice. It had characters in it and I liked some of them.”
“This is a useful book with information in it.”
“Shipped quickly and arrived in good condition.”
I know. Really? Really.
Algorithms do not care if you, the reviewer, have the time and energy to craft a New York Times Book Section Review. Besides, if you did that, the paper should pay you, right?
Click on “Edit” to pick a cute reviewer name
Are you shy? (I am, so I understand.) Did you know that in your Amazon settings you can give yourself a reviewer pseudonym? There’s a little Edit button right next to your name at the top of the review page.
Now that you’re ready, start with the easiest gift you can give that writer you like. Post a quick note that you read the book, you liked it (and no, you don’t have to give it five stars, but, please, don’t take off stars if the site you’re posting to had trouble shipping it or the bookseller sent a copy that wasn’t quite whole–that’s a job for the complaints desk, not the review box).
That gets you to Level 1 of Review, The Game. <Sparkling fireworks appear>
Wanna go to Level 2?
Help out your fellow readers. What will they enjoy when they try this book? Add a few sentences to your review to let others know what it was you liked and to give some hints about the content. Is it a wild, exciting adventure tale? A romance that made you cry? A self-help book that made a difference in your life? For fiction, if you’re going to reveal plot points, your fellow readers ask that you put such reveals below a simple message, “Spoiler Alert.” It’s OK to share spoilers, just let the sensitive ones know it’s time to skip.
This kind of review may end up being a paragraph or an essay, whatever you want.
OK, grab a fresh cup of whatever. You’re going to level up again. You’re hooked on this game, now, right?
This level’s easy. You’ve already written your review. Now, spread it around. Amazon isn’t the only place you go for books, right? Go to Barnes and Noble, find the book there, and post the same review. If you bought on Smashwords, do the same there (they want reviews only from their own buyers, but the price points are great if you like digital.)
The super-easy review page on Rakuten Kobo.
Visit Rakuten Kobo and connect with the international market! Did you know there’s a “Write a Review” button on Google Books? Have you an account on any other bookstore sites, like indigo.ca? You own your review; you can post it wherever you like–on your blog, or your Facebook page, or your Twitter feed, even.
DingDingDingDingDing! Level 3 Mastered. <Cascade of shiny shimmeryjewel-toned sprites>
Relax. You got this.
Go to Goodreads. If you are not already a member, now’s the time to find all the friends you never knew you had. Let yourself roam the stacks, build your virtual pile of books you have read, that you plan to read, that you’re currently reading. Once you come up for air, find the book you’re reviewing, and drop that commentary here. You have found your most appreciative audience. Note that on Goodreads, you can make your fav writer happy by just putting their book on your to-read list.
See? Goodreads lets fans announce they plan to read a book, or drop a happy five-star rating, or share their opinions and insights on the book in a review.
You are home. Stir yourself up a lovely cup of hot cocoa.
Bask in the warmth of Level 4. You have achieved nirvana. You no longer need . . .
Sure you do. <Tremendous fanfare of victory! Coruscating fusillade of fireworks! Thundering drumrolls! Rainbow confetti made of actual rainbows!>
Across your game screen, the following banner floats, surrounded by pink and purple and gold hearts and stars:
“Your Writers Love You Soooooo Much“
They really do.
Now, go read another book.
Oh, if by some chance it’s my book you’re thinking of reviewing, here are the links to go straight to the places I mentioned above:
Amazon (This takes you directly to the review form.)
Barnes and Noble (Scroll down until you see the Customer Reviews section, then click to add yours.)
Smashwords: (Smashwords wants you to purchase the book there. Scroll down to the review section to add a review.)
Rakuten Kobo (Just page down a bit to the Write Your Review button.)
There’s a theory about attending a science fiction convention. It starts with studying the program, noting who the guests are, and planning out a strategy to participate every day and not get too worn out.
Then there’s the practice of being immersed in a con.
There is some similarity. One can see the relationship between theory and practice. But they are by no means the same.
What is important to remember is that this is just fine.
Take, for example, BayCon 2013, the San Francisco Bay Area annual convention. This year is dubbed Triskaidekaphobicon. Largely because this event houses the highest concentration of people who already know what that means.
For an eager preregistered participant, the event began the day before, on Thursday night. Last Thursday night, to be precise. So, for starters, consider plan and execution for this simple task.
Time Frame
What the Plan was
What really happened
Thursday night
Go to Hyatt on the way home from softball, at around 8:30, and pick up badge
A phone call delayed departure for my weekly session of cheering for the NASA Ames softball teams. By the time Great America Parkway was my next freeway interchange, it was just about 6 oâclock. So took a detour & stopped off at the Hyatt, which is sort of on the way to softball. Was the TENTH person to pick up my badge. Cool. They planned to put the first thirteen in the newsletter, and asked if that would be OK. “Of course,” I said. Double-cool. Asked if they needed âgofersâ still, but the pick-up team didnât know & couldnât locate the Head Gofer person. (Hint about future: never did get signed up, and that was all for the best for Baycon and for the family Wray.)
BayCon participants embellished the welcome sign profusely.
In my previous post, I tried to explain how all those odd names ended up in my recently-published book and why I think it’s fun to play around with languages in the middle of a story.
So, what if you don’t really care about all that linquistic
nonsense, but just want a guide to pronouncing stuff in this particular story? In what follows, I’m going to share what I’ve
prepared for the person doing our audio book.
On the surface, it may look daunting, but, really, it all hangs together
with a few key elements:
Lots of the names end in a shortened “ay” sound I’ve tagged here as ei. It sounds almost like a long ay, but is cut short like you were going to pronounce a “y” on the end, but stopped yourself just in time, “say” without that teensy “eeya” sound that wraps up that word. Sort of like “sensei” as pronounced in Japan, or at least in anime and Japanese TV shows.
In names ending in e, the final e is always sounded–usually as that shortened “ay” sound.
The exception is “ere”, which is ayr-ee, wherever it happens to fall, so some names end with ayr-ee, while some have that in the middle or at the beginning.
Children (or adults being teased as if they are children) or intimate friends get their names shortened with a bit of a stop in the middle, so Ansegwe becomes An-s-wei, and Kantalare becomes K-a-la-rei
As an example of the “translated words” system: the “aunts” are “awnts”, Brit/Northeast/Southern style, rather than Midwestern style “ants”.
Digression: How come I like weird names? Well, jeepers, I’ve got one of my own, one
that often gets pronounced weird, though I don’t care, really, I’ve heard ’em
all. The “correct” way is
va-‘ness-uh ma-‘cla-ren-‘ray. There are
other pronunciations in use . . . but those are other Vanessas and other MacLarens.
OK, here we go. I’m not using really formal linguistic notation, but sound-shorthand that I think we all can follow. I put a single quote at the front of the stressed syllable in each word.
Our Main Characters
Varayla Ansegwe, Eskenyan Jemenga, Ensense Kantalare,
Varaylas Ansele and Adeleke, and Haillyen.
These all appear frequently, though it takes a while for Kantalare to
show up. See how what we call “last
names” (family names) come first, and “first names” (personal
names) come second.
Wary, indeed. Photo of sketch on wall, by Quinn Dombrowski, Berkeley, CA (CC BY-SA 2.0)
Varayla: Va-‘ray-la This
one’s pretty phonetic, the tricky thing, from listening to auditions for our
audio book, is that some people seem to read the “yla” as
“lya”. This reminds me of how
people read the second half of my last name as “Wary” instead of
“Wray”. Don’t let it worry
you, but if you prefer mispronouncing Varayla, just don’t go to Korlo.
In the bad old days, you could earn a set of cement overshoes for
mispronouncing that name to the wrong person.
Ansegwe: ‘ahn-seg-wei Our hero’s name is most likely to be mispronounced as on-‘seg-way, which is hilarious, as it makes me picture this enormous klutz trying to ride a Segway. The first syllable should be said relatively slowly, so the second two click together fast, so that you almost lose the sound of the “e” in the middle: ahns’gwei. It has a kind of Japanese flavor to it.
Eskenyan: ess-‘ken-yan It
sounds sort of like “a person from Kenya” (at least the way Americans
say it) plus “Ess” in front of it.
Jemenga: ja-‘meng-uh When
Jemenga is particularly pleased with himself, he really hits that middle
syllable, so it’s like Ja-MENG-ah!
The Varayla Syndicate’s above-board operations include space-based solar power satellites. (Not quite like this. This is NASA’s Solar-b satellite)
Ansele: ‘ahn-se-lei Tycoon
aunt #1.
Adeleke: a-‘del-e-kei Tycoon
aunt #2.
Haillyen: ‘hay-ul-lee-yen This is a “foreign” word to Ansegwe, so he’s basically phonetically “translated” it, the ‘y’ in the last syllable is a bridge sound you get when putting ee and en together between the ee and the en. Do ya get it? Yeah? The reader should get it about 100 pages before Ansegwe catches on.
Ensense: en-‘sens-ei You know, like, “sensei” with an “en” at the front.
Kantalare: kahn-tah-‘lahr-ei There’s a secondary stress on the first syllable. Just make it sound pretty in your head. Ansegwe is totally in love with her, so, whatever, hear her as beautiful
2. The people on the expedition
Some of these folks are only mentioned or quoted during the “expedition” chapters.
Tkonle: t-‘kawn-lei
Kulandere: koo-lahn-‘dayr-ee
Tekere: ta-‘kayr-ee
Tereinse: ‘tayr-ee-in-sei
Alekwa: ah-‘leek-wah
Nara: ‘nah-rah
Ensargen: en-‘sahr-gen It’s
a hard g, as in “gun”, not a soft one as in “generation”.
They don’t really use hard “g”
Korton: ‘kor-tun
Alawere: ah-la-‘wayr-ee
Tasegion: tah-‘seg-ee-on
Turame: too-‘rah-mei
3. People at home
Kateseo: ka-‘tay-see-oh
Kinshada: kin-‘shah-dah
Tumbal: ‘toom-bal
Erekulu: ayr-ee-‘koo-loo OK,
this one isn’t a person, he’s a domesticated animal, so his name is a little
goofy, meant to sound cute.
Tokal: toh-‘kahl
Ans’we: ‘ahn-se-wei This is
a nickname for Ansegwe, used mostly by Kantalare, but also used by his
expedition “friends” when they want to get on his case.
K’alare-: kah-‘lahr-ei This
is a nickname for Kantalare, used by Ansegwe.
Az-dyel: ahz-dee-‘ell Note
that this is another “foreign” word that Ansegwe has transcribed this
way, so it’s pretty phonetic, the three syllables have almost equal stress, I
hear just a little more on the last one, but you can feel more free to mess
around with this one–it’s the ONLY word in this language that appears at all.
Eskewere: ess-ke-wayr-ee
Ensense Halense: en-‘sen-sei hah-‘len-sei This is a member of Kantalare’s extended family that they happen to run into at some point.
4. List of authors.
About two-thirds of the way through, someone gives Ansegwe a
reading list, and the authors of the books are a mix of people from his world,
one from outside his culture, and one (the last) he’s going to spend a lot of
time with. I wouldn’t worry about these too much, but have fun with them. Yeah, uh-huh, that’s intentional.
Asvelan Kulumbu: ‘ahs-veh-lahn koo-‘loom-boo
Palawan Vejr: ‘pah-lah-wahn vee-‘yay-zher
Trjia Qwijlian: ‘trr-zhee-ah ‘kwizh-lee-ahn
Tsulander Tkonle: ‘Tzoo-lahn-der T’kawn-lei
5. People in quotes.
Yeah, this is one of those books where each chapter opens
with a quote from someone. I picture
these as remarks that people who know Ansegwe have made when interviewed about
the events in the story. Picture them
sitting across the desk on their version of The Daily Show, chatting with their
Trevor Noah. Most of the quoted
individuals made it into the final. A
few only get mentioned in these quotes.
These ones are mostly government officials. Make them sound stuffy, self-important, and
less-than-competent.
Insake Hailaware: ‘in-sah-kei hai-uh-la-‘wahr-ei (For fussiness, there’s
a secondary stress on first syllable in Hailaware. He will get all huffy if you
miss that and maybe will find some minor infraction to write you up for.)
Elesennen Haileski:
el-es-‘sen-en hai-uh-‘les-kee
Kinsala Tkerelon: kin-‘sah-lah T-‘kayr-ee-lon
6. Other words and place names.
The story takes place in a fairly limited set of
“alien” geographic locations.
But I do have some place names included and there are a few other
“thing” words that appear more than once.
The Kalinidor is something like this. Alexander Fleming’s Nobel Prize (1945) (Jemenga would discover penicillin if someone else hadn’t already.) Source: Science and Society Picture Library, London Museum of Science (CC BY-SA 2.0)
Korlo: ‘kor-low It simply
sounds like “core” “low”.
This is Ansegwe’s country.
Kalinidor: ka-‘lin-ee-dor This
is a person’s name that’s become an object name–sort of like the Nobel Prize, well,
actually, exactly like the Nobel prize.
Jemenga really really wants one of these.
Quazwallade: kwaz-‘wall-ah-dei This is a place name, just a foreign country,
one with some technological and cultural differences from Korlo.
Cignali: sig-‘nah-lee Let’s
say that probably this was originally a person’s name, but now it’s the name of
a famous university, think “Stanford”.
Utumwe: oo-‘tum-wei I told
you there were academics in this story.
This is another university, a medical school actually, one that Jemenga
lectures at, when they can get him.
Terende: ta-‘ren-dei Another place name.
Tule: ‘too-lei Yep, place
name. Doesn’t get much play, but even minor places count, says the writer who
lives in a town that isn’t a proper town, just a collection of farms, houses,
shops, and a gas station, that gets its own post office.
