The Number of Books on Amazon

According to a recent report I saw, there are approximately 44 million book titles on Amazon right now. That's right. Two fours followed by six zeros. That's a lot of books.

Do all of them sell regularly? No.

Does it matter? Also, no.

Does it freak me out as a writer? Absolutely not.

But as a reader? The thing that bothers me is that I won't live long enough to read all of them.

Seriously.

The thing is reading trends come and go. What's hot today won't be hot tomorrow, and vice versa. Believe it or not, I love that this many books are available!

We live in a time of plenty. (Here it comes!) When I was a kid (TM), I was forced to read the same dang books over and over because there simply wasn't enough books available.

Now? Now, we're living in glorious abundance! We can find any subgenre of genre we could want. In the mood for a certain trope? It's there! Any older book you loved five, ten, fifty, one hundred years ago? You might be able to find it again! There's no limit!

So, who's complaining about the abundance? The authors who feel that readers owe them a living.

I've never really understood this.  In fact, there's a couple of well-known authors who have been and still complain about the tsunami of swill from those of us who started indie publishing from the beginning of the Kindle Age.

Here's the thing those authors don't get. As a reader, I've tried their books. They are not bad writers. It's just their stories aren't my thing.

And that's all right, too.

Just like I know my stories aren't probably their thing. It doesn't make my stories swill.

But with 44,000,000 books out there, it makes it harder for a voracious reader to read EVERYTHING.

At least in this lifetime.

You see, my idea of an awesome afterlife is a gigantic library. One where I can read as much as I want, where my tea is the perfect temperature and my plate is full of cookies. And by the time I finish the current 44,000,000 books, another 44,000,000 will have been written and ready for me to read.

Saving Readers from Bad Books...

...is probably the DUMBEST thing you can waste your time doing. Why? Because "bad" is such a subjective measure.

I know I say don't look at your reviews. What I looked at were the reviews given by a particular person who gave Zombie Confidential a one-star on Goodreads. And I laughed my ass off.

This person has weird criteria. If it's epic fantasy the book gets a five-star. If it's a classic, e.g. Pride and Prejudice or The Three Muskateers, it gets a two-star. If it has paranormal elements, especially vampires, they give the book a one-star.

Does this person have the right to their opinion? Sure!

However, there was no analysis. No foundation to this person's opinion. People who have given a written discourse while rating books in a similar pattern claim they are trying to save readers from what they deem to be "bad" books. If it's not what they love, then it has to suck.

But you can't make everyone love what you love. And someone isn't an idiot for loving something you don't.

I simply think it's sad people are wasting their finite time on this planet reading stuff they don't like.

The Spring Break Roadtrip

I've been kind of quiet online because Genius Kid and I did a roadtrip down to honorary Godmother's place in Nashville. Frankly for me, it was an experiment in pain management after the disastrous trip to Tampa last year where I could barely walk by the time we got home.

[Tip: A naproxen (Aleve) and acetaminophen (Tylenol) double-header does wonders! But please check with your doctor before combining any drugs.]

Heck, GK and I made it through the trip without any too much bickering. We both swore we'd behave. We bonded over Netflix.

Why did we spend our time watching Netflix while being in a beautiful, vibrant city?

We arrived late Wednesday afternoon after driving through rain the entire seven hours. While GK slept in on Thursday, I went to the local Panera to write. By Thursday evening, I wasn't feeling well. Chalking it up to travel fatigue, I went to bed after we got home from dinner.

By Friday afternoon, I was running a fever. Luckily, they had a marvelous thing called The Little Clinic nearby. The staff had me registered, tested, and checked in less time than I've spent in other doctors' waiting rooms. I actually had to wait longer for my prescriptions to be filled at the Kroger pharmacy. But once I had my antibiotics, I felt much better.

GK decided he needed the down time anyway. He's been carrying a full load of welding classes in addition to his high school classes.

On Saturday, GM to me to a lovely little Greek place for lunch. OMG! So good! Then we went to their local Barnes & Noble, so she could prove to me they still actually *gasp* sold books!

The B&N still had a music and video section, a large café, and a toy section, but 75% of the store carried actual BOOKS! I bought my first paper books since 2016: a couple of Valdemar anthologies that I'd been meaning to buy that have short stories by my friend Angela Penrose, the last book of Gail Carriger's Finishing School series Manners & Mutiny (I was reading Book 3 Waistcoats & Weaponry on the drive down), and a Batman v Superman edition Wonder Woman doll (it had allegedly sold out shortly before the movie came out, and scalpers were asking outrageous amounts for it). We didn't spot Ricky Skaggs, a country music star who frequents that particular store, but all-in-all a good shopping trip.

We had brunch before hitting the road on Sunday morning. That's when GK informed me he needed a red shirt for a group presentation at school. Yes, on Easter Sunday, my son informs me he needs a particular item of clothing for his first period class--in less than twenty-four hours while we're seven hours from home.

A reminder that he's not quite the adult he usually acts like.

And yes, we did find a store open with a red shirt. No, I did not get on his case that maybe if he wore a color other than black we could have avoided the stress.

But today, it's back to work! With donuts! Because Mom got long johns while in the store with red shirts.

The State of the Bookstore Address

Today was my day off, and I went to the local Barnes & Noble Cafe to crank out a few hundred words.

Roughly a third of the bookstore had actual books. There's now a huge toy section where movies and music section used to be. The cafe, gifts and calendars make up the rest of the store. I still go for inspiration when I write, to look at copies of so many books I've read, so many I want to read, and so many I'll never have time to read in the probable fifty years I have left on this planet.

I know this is a big box store, but frankly, there's only a Half-Priced Books and a little used bookstore left in our neighborhood.  Even Target and Wal-mart are cutting down their book sections. When I stopped at CVS to pick up prescriptions on the way home, their book rack, which was halved at the beginnng of the year, is being eliminated. The handful of books left were on clearance at 50% off.

Several folks have accused me of being anti-print. That's hardly the case. Looking at the loss of volumes on store shelves saddens me.

Logically, I know current publishing business practices cannot be sustained, and things must change. But paper books were my first friends, and I mourn their loss.

Panic Attack!

Currently reading - Dark and Stormy Knights, edited by P.N. Elrod

My heart's slamming so hard in my chest it may break a rib. I can't believe I did it! I really, really did it! I let my babies go.

Today, I managed to part with over a hundred books. Lovely books. Books with pristine covers, colors as bright as they day they came off the presses. Books with interiors never despoiled by human eyes or grubby fingers. Books that waited on my shelves, my credenza, my dining room table for years, longing for the day when they would have my sole, undivided attention.

Yesterday, I touched each one lovingly, promising them I would find them a good home as they were placed in boxes. Now, I leave them in the care of Jerre, one of my RWA chaptermates, and her Friends of the Library.

Good-bye my pretties! Jerre will take good care of you.

Oh God, I think I'm going to die.