I don’t know that I would call myself fat. My body isn’t toned like some of the other girls I know. I have a tiny waist with big hips and thighs. The pear shaped curves that make up my figure used to be a source of humiliation. I would look at myself in the mirror while wondering, “Why do the other girls have little to no curves and look good in everything? Why is this the case with my own sister, and not myself? Why am I different?”
For a very long time, thin was in. If you weren’t considered “skinny,” you weren’t looked at by boys and more often than not you weren’t popular in general. I often received probably innocent but still backhanded compliments such as, “You have such a beautiful face!”
Sometimes, my personality and intelligence were remarked on while my thinner peers were told how stunning they were. I hate to say that it was rough for me as I was growing into a young woman, but it certainly wasn’t easy. Being all brains and witty as hell didn’t help me when I so desperately wanted to fit into the current trends. Usually, this desire led to countless tears in a dressing room. I felt less than others.
Suddenly, in the past two years or so, a shift occurred in the media. Celebrities such as Gabourey Sidibe, Jennifer Lawrence, Iggy Azalea, Nicki Minaj, Jennifer Lopez, Meghan Trainor, and the Kardashians all started to defend their curves. Now, if you have a booty you have “it”. I’m starting to be complimented on my figure and told that i’m beautiful overall. Yet, I don’t feel any better.
I’m proud of pop culture for embracing women with a little more meat on their bones. I could not be more thrilled that these women are being lifted up instead of brought down by society. However, I’m still disappointed that as a whole looks are still above all else. As a young girl, if I didn’t believe that being found attractive was most important, perhaps I wouldn’t have been so distraught over what is now “hot.”
Also, I’m curious about the young girls who are simply thin naturally. I have plenty of friends who are this way. If the standard to be all curves was present when we were in middle school, would they have been in my position? With the height of social media, will they see the huge amount of hate skinny girls are currently getting? I see pictures discrediting naturally slim girls as women in general, saying that a real man would never go for them. That’s not fair. Women should be standing together, not tearing one another down.
How would girls self-esteem would be affected if society let them know that being your own person is something to embrace? Instead of telling them they need to change, I propose letting them know that they are beautiful as is.
Some people would say I’m unlucky in love. Others would argue that I’ve just got to kiss a few frogs before I find my prince charming. I would debate both of these sides and simply state I’ve allowed myself to become stuck in the fuckzone, and I don’t see any way out.
You can lie to yourself and claim to be one of those superwomen who “don’t get attached” because “it’s just sex”, but let’s face it… we’re emotionally vulnerable females who expect a lot more from males than they are willing to give.
I’m not saying it’s impossible to have casual sex, but from my experience it’s pretty damn hard not to start to fall at least for the idea of that guy after a few times. I respect those women that are able to emotionally detach themselves from their sexual partners, or turn that lust into love.
I guess I’m naive, but I always hope for at least a text or a friend request the next day when I’ve given someone access to my sacred haven. That’s the problem with sleeping with guys without knowing them as people, they want you for one reason only and you are left utterly disappointed.
It all starts when you have your first one night stand. For me, it was post a long haul of an “almost” relationship where (I can finally admit now) I fell in love for the first time. You can guess how that turned out, and I was left feeling vulnerable and looking for comfort in the arms of others. I didn’t go into that night expecting to find anyone, but alcohol has always been a liquid stimulant of some form of crazy sexual desire within me. I ended up having drunken sex with a person I hardly knew, realising ashamedly what I had done, and going home in tears.
That night flicked some sort of switch in my brain. I didn’t want anything more from that person (which I might add I never got anyway) and I continued to explore the world of casual sex. Of course I was never confident enough to be this way sober, but with a bit of alcohol in my system I was unstoppable. I began to find it easy to attain the men I wanted, going barely a night out without hooking up with a drunken stranger. It was comforting, for a while, to have this power over men. I felt dominant, and enjoyed the rush of fucking someone simply for the pleasure of one night.
But that was the problem. As it became easy for me, I began to gain a reputation of being easy. And just like that – I had smack bang landed myself straight into the fuckzone. Now that I have emerged out the other side of my casual sex rendezvous, I am struggling to attain any male attention that is anything more than just drunken fucking. I suppose you could call it karma, for using and abusing those men during my rampage. But that’s all they expected from me too, right? Sexual double standards, that’s what it is. Guys are respected for climbing the ladder in the number of sexual partners. We girls, on the other hand, are downgraded as cheap sluts the more people we sleep with. Unfair, but that’s life.
So here I am, two years later, still stuck in the fuckzone with no way out. I’m still not over my almost relationship and still developing feelings for people who only see me as a vagina. I’m struggling to shake the slut label I attained and feeling all around pretty miserable about my “romantic” endeavors. Recently, I’ve 1) Held out on sex for a considerable time, only to develop feelings for a guy who went back to his ex after he’d gotten what he wanted, 2) Fucked a guy who’d pursued me for a while and then never spoke to me again 3) Allowed myself to be the booty called girl that has never had a real conversation with that person and 4) Fucked my ex boyfriend who is involved with many other girls. Looking at that, I don’t do myself any favors. But each time I go into these experiences hoping that I can turn sex into a relationship. You’d think by now I would have learnt that doesn’t work, but that’s what the fuckzone does. It tricks you into thinking that men want more from you than sex, that it’s all a part of the budding relationship. FYI ladies, sex does not help you get to know someone.
So to all those women out there like me, just know you aren’t alone. The fuckzone is real, and hopefully we’ll all make it out alive… one day.
Too many people go out with intentions of hooking up and one night stands, hoping that they will stumble upon one person who changes them forever. I don’t want to find my one in the midst of a drunken, sloppy hookup.
I don’t want to find my one as his hands slide down my sides trying to pull up my skintight dress in a crowded, hot room. And I definitely don’t want to find my one when I’m embarrassingly searching around the room for my underwear when the morning sun is peeking through the curtains. I want to find my one in the library when I’m studying and he asks if I’m okay when I slam down my International Politics folder.
I want to find my one when we laugh at the same joke and bashfully make eye contact in the middle of class. I want to find my one when I’m sitting indian style in the courtyard lawn reading Harry Potter on a Wednesday in the spring.
I want it to be unexpected because nothing is more beautiful than the unknown. I don’t believe in altering my life in hopes of crossing paths with some boy who may or may not take an interest in me.
Somewhere out there, there is a guy living his normal day-to-day life. And here I am, living my normal day-to-day life. And there will come a time when our day-to-day lives will meet up. And it won’t be something legendary and showy. It may be that we strike up a conversation about the cute dog walking by or chuckling at the small child spurting out their naive wisdom. There won’t be fireworks; there won’t be a moment when time stops, and there most definitely won’t be love at first sight.
We will become friends and find enjoyment in talking to each other. He will be there for me when I am crying over a paper I procrastinated for and I will be there for him when his roommate is driving him mad. And then it will become a norm in which we talk to each other and meet up for lunch every so often. Then, slowly, but surely, love will begin to fill the space between us. We won’t even know it until the one day I notice myself looking into his eyes a split second too long, or when he accidentally touches my hand while walking and gets lost in the thought of holding my hand and having our fingers intertwined. It could be something as simple as when we are watching a movie that I lay my head on his chest that we both know that our day-to-day lives crossed for a reason. Until then, I find absolutely no reason in changing who I am or what I do everyday in desperation to find someone.
I want to go to parties and drink until I’m intoxicated and dance while getting lost in the music. I want to have movie nights with my friends on days where we don’t want to get out of our sweatpants and t-shirts and do our hair. I want to have nights where I stay up too late having meaningful conversations with the people that I will consider my lifelong friends. I want to go to the mall and shop for clothes that I like so I can go home and lay it all out on my bed and feel a sense of accomplishment. I want to do the things that I love and enjoy and want to do without having to worry about checking my phone for a text or missed call.
I don’t want to have the constant fear of losing someone to somebody else. When I am in love, I will know and he will know and there will be no fear of losing each other because even the thought of thinking about it is just ludicrous. I want someone who is so happy to have me that they don’t think of a life in which I am not a part of him.
I want to read and explore and travel and laugh and cry all the while figuring out who I am. I want to get to know my deepest desires, what tastes I like and don’t like, what music puts me in a good mood, what people make me genuinely happy, what clothes look best on me. I want to go out with my friends and make memories that we talk and laugh about years later. I want to make my young years the best years of my life and I don’t see how crying and being heartbroken over boys who in a week will be coming onto the next drunken girl at a party in a revealing outfit could do anything to contribute to my happiness and self-discovery. I want to be a genuinely happy person. I want to be so many things. I want to be healthy and fit, someone who others like to be around because I make them happy, someone who gives good advice and has a good insight on life, a positive person, have a beautiful and loving soul, and someone who loves without fear. I am not at a point in my life in which I can love without fear. There would be too much fear in me. I am too insecure to love at this point because I don’t thoroughly know who I am. But I know who I want to be.
I recently spent a week sitting at a colleague’s desk to do her job while she was ill. It was pretty dull, except for my richly decorated immediate surroundings. Here are twenty items (or collections of items) I found while working there:
1. Untitled inspirational message.
This four-paragraph screed alludes casually (in navy blue Comic Sans 12-point) to the reader’s “enemies,” “agonies,” and, in one memorable line, “sufferings sorrows and pains [sic].” How can such a downbeat message be affirmative enough to warrant daily contemplation?
2. Untitled congratulatory certificate.
The company president’s signature is reproduced at the bottom of this longish ivory-colored certificate. The text (Lucida Calligraphy, 12-point in tan) alludes to “loyalty, dedication and contributions” but fails to mention any specific event or achievements. A psychedelic-looking clock is printed in the background.
3. “Certificate of Appreciation in the Category of: Disney Cast Members.”
This certificate reads: “[Name] WINS THE Tigger AWARD FOR ACHIEVEMENT IN: Organizing data and information, it’s a wonderful thing!” in five different fonts. Printed above the text are two illustrations of Milne’s extraordinarily popular tiger.
4. “Certificate of Completion.”
The Certificate of Completion is Spartan. A small clip-art illustration is printed above the bearer’s name and the words “has completed the Project Management Foundations Training” are printed in reserved, almost dignified olive green 18-point Arial. Presumably, the training was mandatory.
5. Photo of four black ladies.
Relatives?
6. Various photos of children.
Or perhaps photos of various children? All the children appear happy.
7. Various lotions, perfume samples, and a lint remover.
These items are stacked on a small shelf.
8. “Just Beautiful!!” poem.
“Just Beautiful” is a seventeen-line free verse poem. Each line begins with a question and then answers itself; my favorite is the anatomically-naïve “What makes me a woman? My heart.”
9. “The Seven Dwarves of Menopause” printout.
The word “menopause” has been struck through in red ink and replaced with the letters “PMS” in the title of this printout. Presumably, my colleague will update it in a few years. A picture of Disney’s beloved Seven Dwarves is accompanied in this printout by the legend “Itchy, Bitchy, Sweaty, Sleepy, Bloated, Forgetful & Psycho.” The serial comma is thoughtlessly omitted, advancing the possibility of an unnamed dwarf. Naturally, this sort of whimsy is printed in navy blue 12-point Comic Sans.
10. “TO MY SISTERS IN THE LORD…” poem.
This poem is noteworthy only for the line “Before you wonder ‘What’s up with her?’ ask yourself, ‘What’s up with me?’” The text is printed in black 12-point Times New Roman.
11. “Psalm 23 (For the Work Place)” printout.
This inspiring bit of 12-point Comic Sans sacrilege begs to be reproduced in full:
The Lord is my boss, and I shall not want. He gives me peace, when chaos is all around me. He reminds me to pray, before I speak in anger. He restores my sanity. He guides my decisions that I might honor Him in all I do. Even though I face absurd amounts of e-mail, system failures, copier jams, back-ordered supplies, unrealistic deadlines, staff shortages, budget cutbacks, red tape, downsizing, gossiping co-workers and whining customers, I won’t give up, for You are with me. [Note the pronoun shift.] Your presence, peace and power will see me through. You raise me up, even when the boss fails to promote me. [I thought He was the boss.] You claim me as your own, even when the company threatens to let me go. Your loyalty and love are better than a bonus check. Your retirement plans beats any 401K [sic], and when it’s all said and done, I’ll be working for [Y]ou a whole lot longer! Thanks be to God!
An accompanying (and severely pixilated) illustration depicts a light-skinned black woman with short braids and enormous gold hoops in her ears.
12. “PRAYER BEFORE STARTING WORK” printout.
Stern 12-point Times New Roman text in red and blue asks the Lord to “anoint [the reader’s] projects, ideas, and energy” in this touching prayer.
13. Untitled navy blue 12-point Comic Sans inspirational message.
Numerous sailing and soaring metaphors populate the text of this message.
14. “READ THE FIRST LINE CAREFULLY” poem.
This seven-line poem begins with the words “READ THE FIRST LINE CAREFULLY,” Epimenides be damned. It closely follows “Just Beautiful!!”’s question-and-answer format save for the logically-confounding first line. The font is 12-point Times New Roman, in black with pink highlighting.
15. Small mirror.
A small mirror hangs on a plastic hook next to the computer monitor in this cubicle. I repositioned it so I can see if anyone is sneaking up on me.
16. Numerous office supplies and folders.
There are office supplies and folders everywhere in this cubicle, but they are most concentrated on the far-right side of the desk. All the folders are hand-labeled, and some appear quite old. All are utterly incomprehensible to me. The office supplies include “Wite-Out,” scissors, and a giant eraser.
17. Small boombox.
The office is eerily silent all day save for muted conversations and clicking keys. I’ve never heard anyone use a boombox, or even computer speakers. The boombox is an old, cassette-only model.
18. Anne Geddes calendar.
March’s photo depicts little black babies peeking out of tulip blossoms. All wear shower caps.
19. Fortune cookie fortune.
“KEEP YOUR EXPECTATIONS REASONABLE.”
20. Empty bottle of Prozac.
The label reads “DANIEL W. WILLIAMS: TAKE TWO CAPSULES EVERY MORNING WITH FOOD FOR DEPRESSION, ANXIETY.”
This is the perfect time to reflect on our success and what we hope to accomplish. As we’ve oftentimes heard, it’s never too late for a new beginning. 2015 can give us the opportunity for a fresh start — if we remind ourselves more often of our resolutions and goals, imagine the results we would see:
1. Focus on becoming a better you.
You can go to the gym like the rest of the world on January 1st, but that won’t really change who you are. Instead of focusing on the outer shells of people, look within yourself and ask yourself, is this who I want to be? If not, it’s the perfect time to turn over a new leaf and become a better you.
2. Make a difference.
Anyone can change the world, even in the simplest of ways. Simple acts in realms of donations, volunteer work, or helping someone you know in need can go a long way. Sometimes the little things in life mean the world to others. Look around you and appreciate what you have. It’s important to give back in return for all that we receive.
3. Don’t give up on your life goals.
Write down your goals, and don’t lose sight of them. Send yourself reminders on your cell phone, or write them down in a visible place in your room. This way, you won’t forget your goals as the year goes by.
4. Love everything around you.
Fall in love with everything — people, places, restaurants, seasons, etc. If you learn to love everything, you will be happier person. Instead of focusing on the negative realities of life, focus on the positive things within those realities. Without love, life would cease to exist.
Each year gives us the opportunity to start over and accomplish new things. Be proactive and make 2015 the best year yet!
I was used. This wasn’t the first time in my life, nor do I believe it will be the last time, but in this moment, it feels like the worst time. Someone I care about used me. Someone I truly believed cared about me lead me down the road of self-deprecation and now I’m sitting here feeling… used.
I’ve spent the last 48 hours trying to come up with the least painful explanation for the actions and decisions that took place just a few days ago, but in the end, I know the answer.
Whenever we’ve been used, we try so desperately to explain everything in a way that hurts the least. But in the end, it’s always the same result. Perhaps it’s the desire to see the best in people, or perhaps it’s the desire that people see the best in us. Either way, the steps always lead to the same destination.
Immediately after being used, perhaps still in a romance or alcohol induced haze, you’re delusional. There’s this big, beautiful ray of hope. The future looks bright and all the pain and heartache you’ve felt before seemingly disappear into oblivion. This is perhaps worsened if the person you find yourself with is someone you care about. This is the moment that seems to make it all worthwhile. It’s the moment they kiss you. Or the moment their hand grazes yours. Or the moment you catch their eye and smile.
If you’re lucky, you’ll move into the part I call, the discussion. This is where ambiguous things are said that in the moment, can lead you to believe in the light at the end of the tunnel, but in the future, upon reflection, are the big, red signs warning you of your impending fall into heartache and self-hatred. It could go along the lines of, “I don’t want to make things confusing”, or “I don’t want you to hate me”. Right now, in your state of mind, these are obvious indicators of someone preparing to take advantage of you, however, in your daze, these could mean a million other things, depending on your situation.
After the discussion, when both parties feel they have had their say and the lines of communication are open, the daze continues. Perhaps you’ll wander hand in hand. Perhaps you’ll embrace, kiss, or hold each other. Either way, these are all further delusions, leading you closer and closer to the moment where your insides crumble inside of you. But in the moment, they feel great.
Now comes the fun part. The deed is done. Whatever that deed may be. After this, things get tricky. Depending on how terrible the user is.
If they’re a true user, they will soon make their exit. This isn’t as awful as it sounds because the inevitable pain is quick, like the tearing off of a Band-Aid. You’ll know right away you were used and can begin the self-hatred and healing process immediately.
However, if they are a user masquerading as a decent human being, they will not leave. They will hold you. They will kiss you and tell you they like you and how incredible you are. Then, you will fall asleep in their embrace. You may even sleep the entire night in their arms; the light at the end of that tunnel glowing ever brighter by the minute.
In the morning, there will be moments where things seem normal and okay. You will feel like perhaps you evaded the crushing feeling this time. But then, you will feel it. Perhaps it will come as the tensing of a muscle; perhaps as the slow move away from the pile of blankets and cuddles you created over night. Either way, it comes and you know it is coming.
Maybe there will be a kiss, or a hug, or both. This only prolongs the pain, that light still trying it’s hardest to flicker bright in the distance. Then, the excuse and the escape. You’re left still glowing from your previous evening’s activities while a part of you is trying desperately to shove down the dark feeling that is slowly rising in your system.
From here, it only gets worse. You might not hear from them. Or even worse, you might, but it will only be their desperate attempt to appease their conscience. You will go over the events in your head until you’ve evaluated every minute of the evening a million times. You will try to convince yourself that you’re reading into things wrong. But you know.
In the end, the feeling is inevitable: You were used.
There’s only one thing left to do and that’s pick yourself up, tell yourself you’re worth it, and promise yourself you won’t let it happen again. I can’t guarantee that it won’t, but at least by telling yourself that it won’t, you’re showing yourself some self-respect. And that’s better than what you’re used to, right?
I’m like most 20-something women. I’ve fallen in and out of love a couple times; loved and lost. But the thing that I like to do a little differently is find them again.
I like to stay friends with my exes.
Now, I’m not saying we hang out or text each other regularly. It’s not the kind of lingering connection that holds hope of future reconciliation or unfinished business. It’s about getting to the other side of heartbreak. A place where you see them from different eyes; eyes no longer distorted by rose-colored glasses.
I see them as a friend, an equal, and more importantly someone who once occupied a large space in my life and heart. I cannot bring myself to cut them off completely; to not approach them with friendliness and understanding. Call it naive, hopelessly romantic, maybe even self defeating… I call it being open-hearted.
These past lovers may have broken me, but the thing about the heart is that it heals. With time we learn to move on. And then we have a choice: cut them out of our lives completely in fear of damaging the scars that delicately formed over the shattered pieces of our heart…or we can be fearless.
This person was once your best friend. You were intimate in every aspect of the word. You saw parts of them that very few have. You shared countless memories and experiences; time that you will never get back.
To me, staying in touch is respecting the relationship you did have and respecting the person you once loved. It’s the kind of love that says you meant more to me than just a relationship; even without that title you are still important to me.
The kind of love where you wish them a happy birthday, share big news, check in on them every once in awhile, and are always wishing them the best.
The kind of love that once was and now is something completely different.
The kind of love that is fearless and open-hearted.
From Blurb’s year-end specials ad for family photo-book production: the Blurb we’ve known in the past.
If you’re like me, you may find it somewhat difficult to remember “the best parts of your 2014,” but this, nevertheless, is the kind of talk we expect from Blurb.
Here’s some more:
The best parts of your 2014 were moments only you could live. Now turn them into a book only you could create. Transform your favorite photos, stories, and memories into a one-of-a-kind book to treasure for all of 2015—and beyond. Make a book for friends, for family, for the special person in your life, or just for yourself.
Go all out and craft a gorgeous, custom photo album that highlights 365 days of your life with:
Inspiration to make your best book ever
Tools to make a book online or with downloadable software
Plug-ins for Adobe® InDesign® or Lightroom®
Ways to build an incredible ebook
Not a thing wrong with that advertising copy. In fact, I first heard of Blurb, myself, in exactly this mode.
A Danish friend in Copenhagen introduced me to the birthday-party photo books she enjoyed creating for her children using Blurb’s service. Beautiful balloon-times-with-the-family memorabilia, these slim, slick books were coffee-table winners, hands down, grins hovering near cake, one’s own life and loved ones rendered in Hallmark-esque hardback. Handsome stuff. Also a very specific niche.
After all, even the company’s executive-team bios are set up with photos of each employee — holding a photo book, presumably one that he or she has made.
So it has been to my and many others’ surprise that for more than a year now, Blurb has been working hard not to change its image, exactly, but to expand it.
The slogan, “Blurb. Where Your Ideas Become Great Books.” still works, yes.
But the people of Blurb want you to know that this doesn’t just mean pretty picture books. They’d like to be your KDP. That’s right, Blurb would like you to think of them as an alternative to such self-publishing platforms as Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing, Kobo’s Writing Life, Smashwords, and so on. They want you to come to them with your novel, your lawnmower maintenance guide, and your mother’s memoir. They want the self-publishing “tsunami of content,” as Jon Fine called it while at Amazon, to float their boats, too.
And to that end, you can see some interesting drop-downs on their mainpage.
On the nav-bar at the top, hit Formats & Pricing, and you’ll find “eBooks” as well as “Trade Books” there. And yet “Photo Books” is still at the top of the list.
What you’re seeing is a tiger changing its stripes. But, clearly, only in certain lighting. The medium is more than one message now. Bring us your shots from graduation day, yes. But also bring us your immersive-text fiction and illustrated non-fiction…and magazines, for that matter. Blurb wants to do it all, and is not to be underestimated. The company says it has more than 8 million titles in play.
Eileen Gittens
It’s change of direction, as I wrote last month at The FutureBook, first became apparent for many of us during the 2014 London Author Fair produced by Authoright. There, Blurb’s founding CEO Eileen Gittens joined me and Authoright’s Gareth Howard onstage to talk about how the company is morphing from that picture-book maker to a self-publisher’s all-purpose, one-stop platform.
And, as covered in that article, Gittens has brought as consultants Richard Nash and Molly Barton, two high-profile industry players, to curate a standing group of author-services specialists for Blurb authors to consider hiring.
I spoke with Gittens about the new direction and the “Dream Team,” as it’s called, of recommended experts. You can see the listing here. And the fact you can see it so easily is one of the more interesting elements of the story: These recommendations are made free by Blurb to anyone. The company takes no cut of a transaction an author might make with one or more.
Gittens told me about the creation of the “Dream Team” when we spoke.
A Self-Publishing ‘Dream Team’
The Blurb ‘Dream Team’ specialists in developmental editing. From Blurb.com
“Over the last couple of years,” Gittens tells me, “Blurb has really been focusing in on the self-publishing market.”
And what has prompted them to hire Nash and Barton to help them generate a pool of experts is customer request.
“We have been getting queries for years now,” she says, “asking for a recommendation” for one type of author service or another — book cover design, copy editing, developmental editing, line editing, formatting, etc.
“We have in our past been kind of allergic to this idea of, ‘You get assigned 20 hours of an editor’s time,’” as is part of some operations’ self-publishing packages. Gittens’ assessment of the consumer interest here is that it’s not a desire to be handed an expert, but to be handed a true recommendation.
“We connected up with Richard and Molly…and spent a couple of days together in San Francisco,” where Blurb is based. The main criterion for the selection of specialists for the “Dream Team” was “the creation side of a book’s authoring,” Gittens says. “Round Number 2, Phase 2, of this will be on the business side. So you’ll see in future, additions to the team around publishers, social marketers, business planners, speaking-engagement folks” and so on.
Blurb’s brief for Nash and Barton specified that “some geographic distribution” would be useful, Gittens says, resulting in a group that includes professionals in the US, UK, Canada, Australia, and on the Continent.
“The languages our experts will support,” she says, “are English, French, and Dutch” to start, reflecting the bulk of the interest expressed by customers.
There was also, Gittens says, an attempt to find “a range of experience’ among the specialists “to map to a range of fee structures.”
“We’re starting out with 50 people, and some of them wear multiple hats.”
Marcy Dermansky
And in addition to the most predictable categories, such as exterior and cover design, ebook conversion, and art direction and curation, you’ll find the offerings include ghostwriting. This, Gittens explains, is the result of hearing from many corporate clients who may have lots of content available for, say, a company history or special-focus book, but no writers on staff.
Clicking on one of the offered recommendations — say Marcy Dermansky of New Jersey for ghostwriting — you’re taken to a bio on Blurb’s site. You learn, for example, that Dermansky’s own 2005 novel Twins, was a New York Times Editor’s Choice selection.
And you’re given a chance to contact her, sending her your name, email address, project synopsis, and “output type” (print, digital, or print and digital).
As it turns out, Dermansky also appears in the editorial categories of copy editing, developmental editing, and book coaching.
At London Author Fair, 2014, from left: Blurb’s Eileen Gittens, Authoright’s Gareth Howard, Goodreads’ Patrick Brown.
The Not-Just-Me-On-This-Project Factor
Gittens likes to cite something she was told by personnel at an author services company that she says now has gone out of business.
Without naming the company, she says that this group used a small sample of 35 or 40 projects to determine that when writers worked entirely alone on producing their work, “they only had a 10-percent completion rate — there was a 90-percent non-completion rate within a year for people working alone.
“The minute people hired one person,” she says, the picture changed, she says.
“Because someone else was now waiting on you, the author, to send them what they were waiting on, so they could do their job and get paid,” there was something around a 30-percent completion rate.
“And as soon as two people were hired, say a cover designer and an editor,” she says, “the completion rate went up to around 90 percent.
“One of the things I’ve been saying is that just because you’re ‘self-publishing’ doesn’t mean doing this all by yourself. If it’s that important to you to do this work, please don’t do it by yourself.”
Gittens says that Blurb has more than 1 million authors working with her company now. Many are making the “personal books,” as she calls them, for which Blurb is known. So demand, as she notes, is in place.
“We’ve built scale,” she says. “We don’t need to charge” for the “Dream Team” recommendations. “We don’t need to make any money on this transaction. Our business model goes ‘ka-ching’ when the title gets completed and units are purchased.
“It turns out that we’re 100-percent aligned with the author here. The last person in the world in advance of a sale who has any money is the author. We want them to spend any money that they have budgeted for this on making a better book — please! I think everybody wins here.”
Gittens says that Blurb’s outreach to the business sector still is getting some fine-tuning. The many companies that today want to produce book content of one kind or another might not have the guidance they need. Some “turn up on our doorstep,” she says. In other cases, she’d like to work on how Blurb spots and targets potential business clients.
Another uncertainty in these early days with the “Dream Team,” she says, is whether this initial group of around 50 specialists will be enough to handle the requests for recommendations.
Whatever The Author Needs
Blurb’s Bookwright software for book layout. From Blurb.com
As Gittens works to widen the appeal of Blurb services beyond the original “personal book” market, tools have become an important feature.
Blurb’s “Bookwright” software, for example, is a downloadable application for design and layout — for all the types of books Blurb wants users to produce on its platform. Part of its capability, she says, is in outputting a full range of formats from the same project file and free ISBNs.
For those personal photo books in particular, there’s a tool called Bookify, which in turn is closely related to another tool, Booksmart, for photo books, notebooks, and planners.
Gittens’ split on ebook rates is 80 percent for authors, 20 percent for Blurb — better than the 70-percent rate at Amazon, in other words. On print copies, authors buy the books at Blurb’s cost, then mark them up as they see fit.
What has surprised her is that authors still want print as well as digital.
“We thought,” she says, “that when we launched our digital services, we’d see gigantic universes of people who wanted not only digital-first but also digital-only. We found out that’s not true. People are finding that most of their sales may be digital but that there still are people out there who prefer reading in print. Whatever their reasons, we want the author to offer a book in whatever format the readers desire.”
And oddly, this brings the conversation back around, full circle, to “why I started the company” in 2o05, she tells me.
“When I started it, I wanted to give a gift,” a book. “I thought, well, I can put all the content on a Web site and send people a link. But you can’t gift a link.”
The gift/photo-book business that’s been good to Blurb over the years now positions them in something of a higher-end spot on the self-publishing platforms market — and leaves Gittens doing a good deal of talking in trying to widen the company’s capabilities in the minds of authors who might like to use this alternative to one of the major retailer-based platforms.
“What authors are learning,” she tells me, “is that even in genre fiction, which has gone hugely to ebooks — and I think I own five Kindles personally — there’s a time you want a print copy. There are some books I want to keep. There’s something about seeing them on the shelf.”
It won’t make sense to run off the people who come expecting Blurb’s usual family photo book. But obviously, the company can’t sit by and watch other self-publishers walk by on their way to the better-known platforms.
‘How can I create the best book in me?”
Gittens puts that question on the table: it’s the one she wants to hear authors ask, and it’s the one she’s working to have Blurb answer.
Whether it be a real hangover thanks to one-too-many IPAs or an emotional hangover because you regret the positions you were bent into, greet it and get ready to deal with it. Open your eyes slowly and allow yourself to take a second. But not too much more than a second because you have a stranger to start getting rid of. Let’s face it, it is RARE that you want someone who is essentially a stranger to hang out and watch Netflix with you. That’s private time. So acknowledge that you don’t feel good, and note that you can take care of it later.
2. Don’t waste time being naked.
Okay we can admit we aren’t necessarily proud of having this person in our presence but now is not the time to feel sorry for ourselves. Now is the time to put together the pieces of nights gone by and figure out where your pants are. And their pants. Locate all of the pants. People can’t, or at least won’t, leave in their underwear so find their clothes and leave them in a reachable location. Just don’t like, fold them. That’s weird.
3. Passive aggressively hint that it’s time for them to go.
This is the part where you’ll start to do chores rather than just say “Hey, get up and get out SON.” You’ll get a load of laundry going, start doing dishes, clean the bathroom floor which hasn’t been cleaned since your LAST one-night stand (no judgment) and obviously none of these will be done quietly. Truthfully it’s a good effort, though we all know it’s not going to work. But hey. Good for you for getting some housework done.
4. Kick yourself for your choices.
There they are, snoring and farting away in your bed. You did this. Well, you with a little help from your friends Grey and Goose at the bar. You don’t have their number but they’re turning your bed into their own private party of one. Look at them, spooning your favorite down pillow. You hate them. Take it from me: it’s not worth dwelling on. Just give it 24 hours; you’ll be laughing about it in no time. Or give yourself enough time to at least wash them out of your sheets — then you can laugh about it.
5. Decide how nice you’re going to be.
Are you going to offer to take them to their home or car? Or are you just going to send them on their way with nothing but embarrassment and fuzzy memories? Basically you have to decide if you’re going to be able to look them in the eye if you run into them again. My rule of thumb is if you have more than one mutual friend, you have to be nice. You don’t want all of your buddies calling you an asshole behind your back. If they truly are a random person who you only met 12 hours prior — no worries.
6. Wake the beast.
Don’t try to do this “accidentally” by like, dropping a pillow on them or coughing juuuusst loud enough. Be a grown up; wake them up. You don’t have to feel bad about having a life or things to do or even just wanting them out of your space. You offered them sex, not a place to sleep till one in the afternoon. This is either where you just simply say “how are you getting home” or you give them an elaborate lie about how you’re meeting your mom and aunt for brunch but then really just circle the block in your car before going back into your home.
7. Do. Not. Fall. For. Sleepy. Eyes.
Sex is not a coupon that allows someone to cash in on your amazingly comfy bed. I don’t care how tired they look or if “they didn’t even realize you were up” (bullshit by the way). There is nothing sexy about not being able to take a hint. Along the same lines: do not fall for them feigning interest in your day in an attempt to tag along. Do you really want to hang out with someone you had sloppy, drunk sex with? Do you really want to tarnish what could be a perfectly good brunch with awkward conversation and trying to figure out what was so interesting about them when you had your booze blinders on? No. No you don’t.
8. When in doubt, Jon Hamm it.
Everyone hissed in disapproval when he said it in Bridesmaids but sometimes you have tried every trick and you just gotta say it:
“I really want/need you to leave but I don’t know how to say it without sounding like a dick.”
Whoop there it is. If that doesn’t get them out, then congratulations; I think you got engaged.
Sig Nordal 