August 20, 2009

Innovation in action

I’m going to pause my regular programming to tell you about Keith Blount. You may not know Keith, and—guess what?—neither do I.

But I love what he’s done.

Keith has created a software application called Scrivener, which is, sort of, an amalgam of a word processor and a project management tool.

Why is that important?

Because I used Microsoft Word to write The Net Present Value of Life and, as I was writing it, a few things came to mind.

The first was, no one writes a novel chronologically. At least I didn’t. No, the  fact is I jumped around a lot, writing a chapter that gave me an idea for another chapter. I’d then create a draft, based on that idea, that I’d later squeeze in somewhere between the book’s beginning and end.

Did I mention revisions?

I often made changes in one part of the manuscript (keeping a backup of the original file, in case I changed my mind), only to find, soon after, that my changes impacted on a later chapter that I had written much earlier.

Confused? Well, so was I, all because it really wasn’t an efficient way to work. Even worse, it was a process rife with minefields—I was always afraid, as I searched and edited blocks of text, that I’d delete, unnoticed, some crucial dialog, some character development, or something else entirely.

Which is why I kept backups. Lots and lots of backups.

The other thing I noticed? I was accumulating a big pile of supporting files containing research, weblinks, story-development ideas, statistical information, outlines, notions, mindless ramblings, and the occasional grocery list.

I kept backups of all that too.

It was, at times, hard to manage. And, as I look back, I’m puzzled that I never wondered whether there was a better way.

Which is why I’m thrilled to have, only recently, discovered exactly that—a better way. Scrivener truly is a one-stop, no-fuss-no-muss software application devoted to one simple task—writing.

Not only am I over the moon about Scrivener, but I’m equally impressed by Literature & Latte, the company that publishes it.

First off, let’s face it, Literature & Latte is an intriguing name for a software company. Turns out that Keith chose that name because he always wanted a bookshop/cafe. Hey! I love coffee. And I love books too. You see? A connection…

But that’s not the real reason I’m intrigued by the company.

What intrigues me (and what I identify with) is their history, and their philosophy.

The company’s history is right there, on their website. As it happens, Keith was (is) a writer who (like me) wasn’t thrilled with the available crop of word processors. Unlike me, though, he did something about it. He created Scrivener.

Now that’s what I call innovation in action.

As regards philosophy, they programmed Scrivener to work on Macs. Not Windows, just Macs. Why? Because the folk that work at Literature & Latte (both of them) prefer Macs. That’s it. No other reason. They like Macs.

Now how refreshing is that? A company creating something because that’s what they felt like creating? And not because some business metric like ROI (return on investment) or market capitalization suggested they do it. And certainly not because some focus group, or strategic-planning consultant, or leading-edge indicator implied that’s what they should be doing.

Then there’s the price point, which is much too reasonable—a steal in fact. Why is Scrivener priced so low? Because, as stated on their website, they “didn’t want to price out struggling writers.”

C’mon, how can you not be a fan of such a company?

There you have it. Scrivener. I’m a fan and I bet you will be too. So go ahead and try it. Right now.

But remember, you’ll need a Mac. Now how great is that?

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July 5, 2009

Can a guitar be like a book? The other way ’round maybe?

I was in Montreal yesterday, at the Salon de Guitare de Montreal, which, if you don’t read French, means the Montreal Guitar Show.

While walking up one aisle, then down another, ogling one intricate design after next, I got to thinking of the talent, imagination and artistry that goes into guitar-making. It’s sort of like writing a book, I guess (although, given I’ve never built a guitar, I really don’t know for sure. And, anyway, thinking back on my blatant ineptitude in high school woodworking class, you wouldn’t want to see me even attempt the task).

But after arriving home late last night and after collapsing into bed, I immediately approached that not-quite-awake-but-not-yet-asleep state, the one that had me slowly replaying images of those magnificent instruments. That’s when I knew for sure, just before drifting away. Yep, guitars are like books. Here, let me show you a few examples.

Daddy Mojo Guitar

Daddy Mojo Guitar

I don’t know about you, but this interesting work of art (and my best friend, Nino’s hands-down favourite) reminds me of an outlaw. And when I think of outlaws, I think of Elmore Leonard. I didn’t get to try this instrument, but I bet it plays just like one of his books reads—edgy, maybe a bit off-balanced, and always intoxicating.

Benoit Maillette

Benoit Maillette

A Benoit Maillette electic guitar–can you picture Gene Roddenberry writing about space travel, modeling USS Enterprise prototypes,  and somehow coming up with something like this? Well I can.

Fabrizio Alberico

Fabrizio Alberico

What this photo only hints at is the level of craftsmanship and the attention to detail that Fabrizio Alberico lavishes on his work. Every feature is carefully thought through, every component artistically crafted and lovingly assembled. If you’ve read David Adams Richards’ The Friends of Meager Fortune, you’ll know what I mean.

John Monteleone

John Monteleone

A  John Monteleone guitar is like an Ayn Rand novel, especially Atlas Shrugged. Big, bold and mysterious.

Peter Malinoski

Peter Malinoski

Hunter S Thompson. For sure.

——————

I’m out of town for about a week, away from computers, wi-fi, cell phones and the other accoutrements of modern living. I’ll report back soon. Thanks for reading my blog.

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June 23, 2009

Mr. Harwood replies

This is, uh, interesting. In a prior post, I explored what it was that made writers write. In that piece, I suggested money wasn’t even close to being a key driver in the writing process. I mentioned a bunch of other stuff too, self-expression, for example, and writers wanting to grab their readers’ attention. Anyway, if you read the post, you know what I mean. To support my case, I also made reference to a podcast in which Seth Harwood describes his own experience with the numbers side of the writing business.

And this is where it gets interesting. Amusing too, if I stop to think about it. Because my post about grabbing attention ended up garnering the attention of none other than Mr. Jack Wakes Up himself. Here is Seth’s reply.

“Here’s the thing: deep down we all want to be successful at what we do. Writers especially. And the world tells us being successful means rich. Or making good money. We want a big TV, a nice vacation, you know, all that stuff.”
“Here’s the other thing: the happiest I am as a writer is when I know people are listening to my work and enjoying it. It’s true. I do love to be heard/read. Having an audience, that’s the best. But, I want to be a writer ONLY, I want to make money from writing. I admit it: I want that to be my career–writer. It’s true. Been a goal for over 12 years. Now, I’m reaching that and it’s not all wine and roses (or vacations) but that’s when my expectations get beyond just the writing. When I focus on just writing, I stay happy. I’m fulfilled. Truth is, it’s a battle–between just writing/working and wanting the financial and major-success appreciation.”

“Still, is that too much to ask? To sit back at the end of the day and know the world appreciates what you’ve done? Shit, I sit back at the end of the day and I do know that. Problem is I sometimes get stuck on what a few people pulling strings in NYC think or what a few numbers say.”

Now imagine my reaction when I saw that in my inbox. Think that didn’t grab my attention? Once I got over the serendipitous surprise of his message, I also noted that Seth’s comments touched on something that my post overlooked; writers love to write because it makes them happy. Which, by extension, translates into the indescribable joy that we all get by reading a great book.

And enjoyment is exactly what you’ll find if you you do me a favor. Buy Jack Wakes Up. Trust me on this one, it’s a great read. You’ll love it.  No, don’t wait ’till later, don’t say you’ll do it after checking your emails, or grabbing another coffee. Just buy it, like right now. And here’s the other thing I’d like you to do. Buy it here or here or here (if you listened to Seth’s podcast you’ll know why).

Alright? Great. Well, thanks everyone, for, you know, visiting. See you later.

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June 19, 2009

Why do it?

Why write?

That nagging question’s been popping into my head for a long time. A really long time. I mean, I doubt there are many who write fiction for the money. If you don’t believe me, check out Seth Harwood’s tell-all podcast, The Truth in which he explains the numbers behind his blockbuster novel Jack Wakes Up. Go ahead, give it a listen. I’ll wait……

You’re back? what did you think? Pretty obvious that money’s not a driving force, isn’t it? So why do it?

Paulo Coelho had an interesting observation.  To paraphrase, he surmised that writers write in order to be read. That’s pretty obvious when taken at face value. But dig deeper and more meaning begins to tumble out of Coelho’s comment. Writers, I think, want to exercise self-expression, want to make a contribution, want to share opinions and feelings, and writers want to, I believe,  grab their readers’ attention. Depending on their motives, writers want readers to learn, to laugh, to cry or to just ponder a previously undiscovered  premise.

That last one is my motive for putting my book together (although getting people laughing would be pretty cool too). Oh, and there’s one other reason. I believe that when any of us tries something new, a door opens. Where that door leads is, of course, unknown–a complete mystery. But once it opens, it’s then our duty to walk through and find out what’s waiting on the other side.

And that’s something I can hardly wait for.

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