The Daily Beast

Okay, this is a very big deal.

My first story was published on The Daily Beast. I’d love it if you all went over there and read it. And commented too.

If you don’t know what The Daily Beast is, it’s a blog run by Tina Brown who was the editor for The New Yorker and Vanity Fair. Yes. I know. I KNOW!

So click now and comment if you’d be so kind.

Also, for those of you who don’t want to click, the story is about a stripper and her boobs. GO NOW!

Devaluing Writers: I Have a Thought

So, there’s a new blog here in Portland. The blog started following me on twitter sometime late in the night. I clicked over to check it out because I happen to believe that community blogs are quite good and I gained a lot of friends and connections when I blogged for Metblogs in its salad days, which was exactly what I wanted when I started blogging there. I didn’t get a single penny for writing a daily post there, though the editors of the site did take us to drinks monthly and I’ve gotten several paid gigs from my time there.

It was worth it.

You know what made it worth my time to blog there? Getting a byline.

This new blog doesn’t believe in bylines. What’s more, they have no masthead and the authors or editors or whatever are totally hidden. I did a little bit of detective work and found out who’s running the show and it’s someone who I followed for a time on twitter. And then grew extra tired of his social media navel gazing. Oh social media experts…how you fucking exhaust me.

But it seems to me that one of the pillars of social media is transparency. And maybe giving authors bylines is a good way to be transparent (you know, like regular newspapers do — I know! I’m crediting print media!!). It’s also the only method of payment most blogs of this size are willing to cough up. So why not give it to the writers? Why not offer the people putting up the content some sort of acknowledgment?

I’m guessing because there aren’t writers or bloggers generating the content. It’s just some dudes with some keyboards thinking that because (like trained monkeys) they can press letters and make the words go on the magic screen, then they’re making a blog. Judging by the content on that site (intense purposes — blerg — which was only corrected after I tweeted about it, and there has been no gee thanks from the blog offered) they’re not aiming for a voice, or really anything interesting at all. And this, at its core, is the devaluation of writers. Just barf shit up on the web and hope the advertisers never notice that no one is hitting the POS site, instead of hiring people to provide the content, just like they hired someone to build the blog itself.

There are millions of blogs out there and so many of them never get a single hit a day. But people are plugging away at them. And there are other blogs who have a devoted following (like this one, thank you Fan Club) because the blogger has a voice, an identity. A BYLINE.

I think the value of a blog, whether it’s the time the blogger spends on posts no one reads, or something like my blog, the value of which is both monetary and personal, begins with the owner of the blog and what he or she believes voice is worth. A byline is a good start.

I won’t link to this new blog because I don’t want their traffic going up. Traffic is the only value these people place on blogging. Problem is, the audience has a different opinion. So in two weeks, when the site is gathering dust and we’ve all forgotten (mercifully) that it happened in the first place, and the owners blame the economy, or summer, or whatever. I’m going to do a little cheer that there is something inherent in all of us that wants to value writers, despite not knowing how. That no matter what our actions are for the moment in terms of not purchasing books, or supporting local bookstores, or buying a magazine now and again, we all want voice. So take a moment. What are you doing to value voice today?

Word to Your Mother!

OMG…GAHHHH… it’s tonight! (Okay, that was just for you fan club. For the rest of Portland, I’m cool as a cucumber about co-producing an event at a venue that holds 700 people standing. I pooped myself a little when I wrote that.)

So far, ticket sales are totally on track. We’re all feeling awesome about it and I’m excited, if a bit nervous. For Back Fence to go from a space that held 60 and had no proper restroom to this *ahem* far larger space in less than a year and for us to be on the bill with some real heavy hitters, is sort of mind-boggling. But I always remind myself that it’s not magic, what we do. We work hard on this event, Frayn and I word exceptionally well together, we are always thinking about the event and making it better and, I hope, we’re always kind and friendly and open.

So, here we are. The Bagdad.

Tickets in advance end at 4. After that, you need to buy them at the door.

Free cupcakes, free buttons. Loch Lomond is playing. It’s a great way to celebrate moms!

It’s a New Glen David Gold Novel!

I’m going to make this blog on Saturday and post it on Monday because according to Google, Monday is going to be (HOLY CHRIST!) 72 degrees. My plan for Monday is to wander the streets in a bikini and lie on the hot cement when I am felled by heat exhaustion. So I might not be around the internet. Unless I can access the internet through the heat waves coming off the asphalt.

Also, I own no bikini.

So, my exciting news is sort of not that excited for like everyone except me and Steve, so really, you don’t have to make a comment today or you can just jump right to the comments and say something about bikinis.

I went to one of my former places of employment the other day to harass my ex-editor and rifle through the galleys. AND I FOUND THIS:

ZOMG IT’S THE NEW GLEN DAVID GOLD!

I have been waiting seven long years for a new Glen David Gold novel. His first book, Carter Beats the Devil, is one of my and Steve’s favorite books. In fact, it’s one of the favorite books of every single bookseller I’ve ever worked with. It’s a perfect entertainment novel. It’s funny, has a great plot and *there’s magic on every page* (that was a little in joke between me and Steve.) There’s not magic on every page, but Carter (the hero) is a magician. And it’s set in California (specifically Oakland) at the time of the earthquake and Carter is such a great guy and it’s just OHMYGOD I love that novel. I’ve read it three times.

It’s also Gold’s first novel. And I feared it would be his only novel. I feared this because his wife is Alice Sebold of Lovely Bones fame and I thought, well, we’ll never see a book from Gold ever again because I sold so many copies of the Lovely Bones in hardcover, I still have the ISBN memorized (0316666343). It’s not logical, people.

Anyway, I just want to say THANK YOU to Glen David Gold, who one time came into my bookstore and I WAS NOT THERE, but he read my little handwritten review (it’s called a shelf talker, for you non-bookselling people) and he liked it. HE SAID HE LIKED IT!!! This made my year. Except, I also thought, huh, WHY DIDN’T YOU RETURN, GLEN, YOU LIVED UP THE STREET????

I have sort of a complicated relationship with Glen David Gold.

It’s internal.

Voice-driven.

He doesn’t know I exist.

(God, please let him have a google ego search. I HAVE A VERY POPULAR BLOG *Shush, Fan Club*, MR. GOLD, I WILL TOTALLY INTERVIEW YOU AND POST IT HERE! EMAIL ME!!!!!)

So, I started reading Sunnyside last night and so far, so good. Sooooooo gooooood. Except I read just three pages because the night before I went out drunking, which involved a lot of bourbon and a pitcher of sangria — alcohol allergy: CURED! And then I had four hours of sleep and so I went to bed at 8. And read three pages, which I enjoyed very much before I slept. So, anywayz, I’m a bit late on the draw pitching this for a review for money. So, I’m going to review it here, Internet. HERE! When I’m finished. It’s 550 pages.

Look for it in the distant future.

Happy Monday!

And if you see me passed out on the sidewalk, just pour some water on my lips and let me be.

Things That Are Making Me Not Jump Off the St. John’s Bridge

Still having some sadds. I haven’t actually seen the sun since I left San Diego and Steve had been taking my car to work, and I’d been riding my bike. Except four days ago when I was riding and my back tire burst. I have an internal derailluer on my bike and I am a handy person, but not that handy so I couldn’t change it. So I’ve been bikeless. And carless. And I’m fairly sure I’ve stepped into Bladerunner.

So for today’s blog, I’m going to focus on thing that are making me happy in my girl parts.

1) Nancy Rommelman

Met her for the first time yesterday afternoon, which is crazy because I think we’ve got like 75 friends in common. I call myself a professional writer, but compared to Nancy, I’m writing Casual Encounters ads on Craigslist (Attractive 98 pound, 22 year old white brunette seeks a big Asian daddy to finish her hardwood floors and recaulk her bathroom. Or play with her joystick. Or whatever.) Anyway, Nancy’s got a great blog and was so fabulous in person. Plus she can hold a thoughtful conversation on leggings, and that, my friends, is pretty much all I’m looking for. (Attractive MILF seeks other women to discuss leggings — with panties or without, better with boots?, what length dress can we wear with them?)

[Also, I'd like to apologize for this post because I'm writing it on Steve's computer, which is a PC and I'm finding it hard to be funny what with a mouse with two buttons and everything.]

2. Girasole

I’m going to knit this. Now I know I’ve gotten a lot of knitting requests lately. Shelly’s dog’s sweater, a baby gift for Taco so he doesn’t freeze to death while his parents are drinking gin and tonics at 10am and filming porn in the basement. I have cast on for something for Taco, and it’s not Girasole. It’s not Girasole because I went to the yarn store yesterday and picked out my yarn for the project. I did not buy it because it will be $160. The yarn is Blue Moon Fiber Arts Peru in Sand. That’s an alpaca, merino, silk blend. Holy Jeeburs. I love Taco, and I know that alpaca is too rough for him to barf upon. That little dude will only upchuck on cashmere.

So, what I need from you, internet, for me to knit the Girasole and not jump off the St. John’s bridge and continue on blogging daily FOR YOUR PLEASURE, is for all of you to send me two American dollars. And then I’ll have $158 and I can cover the rest. It’s a lot like that time I responded to the Arabian prince who emailed me about the twenty thousandish rupees he had stashed in a Belgium bank account and if I’d only send him four hundred dollars, he’d pay me back with hashish and four hundred and one pesos and then I’D BE RICH. It’s like that. Except I’m not an Arabian prince, but I will be if you send me two dollars and ask real nice.

3. My bike is getting fixed today.

And that’s it, internet. I can’t stand this PC anymore. What things are making you not commit hari kari today?

Right Right

Okay, so Back Fence PDX is in a week. The lineup couldn’t be any better. On the serious. Check it out. And get your tickets.

And is $45 for three hours of writing instruction from ME too much to pay? I think not. So do that here. And you get free lunch.

Here’s my post at PDX Pipeline about Belladonna. Here’s my video interview with Belladonna. I love her.

Welcome to my new blog readers. I have no idea where you came from, but you’re stuck with me now. Get comfortable, let your hair down. This is a safe place for the mostly inappropriate.

Ken was wondering about my brother, as in why do I always say I’m an only child and suddenly I have a brother. It was news to me too! I kid. My brother is my half brother and he’s fifteen years younger than I am so any only child psychosis qualities I have, were set in stone long before my little brother showed up.

Finally, have you had sex today? If not, please do.

XOML

I’m Trying to Protect You

Hello Fan Club,

Two days ago, I received an email from an cellular telephone company saying that they would send me, MELISSA LION, a cell phone if I would blog about it and tweet about it. And because I’m a greedy, greedy person, I hit reply and started typing out my answer, which was YES! But, Fan Club, I’m all about the self-improvement and self-reflection and when I have this reaction to things, I’m trying to sit tight a moment and improve and reflect and not just jump up and wave my hand around. So I let it rest and I went about my day abusing orphans and eating fast food reviewing books.

And in the afternoon, I opened a new email to a friend who is wise in all things giveaway and I began typing this email, “[blank] wants to send me a phone so I’ll blog about it and the thought of doing this makes me feel like a whore, and not in a good way.” I didn’t even hit send, because I had my answer, which was no for those of you who don’t believe I could feel bad about feeling like a whore (you know me too well).

So I sent the nice woman at this company an email saying I am a professional writer and my blog is for my personal writing, and while my personal writing might be done for free, it’s led to paying work and so if there was a project that they needed professional writers for, this is my hourly rate and my dollar per word rate.

She’s not emailed me back.

Here’s my point, Fan Club, I did it for you, I don’t want my blog being a playground for corporate America, I only want to shill for things I like and care about and can you imagine me suddenly lurving a cell phone? Like I love my four-inch heels that Zappos.com gave me a phatty discount on?

So with that in mind, I’m reading this book right and loving it.

Here’s the Greatest Poetry Book OF ALL TIME.

Register for my class here.

Back Fence tickets here.

And, LG if you want to send me this washer and dryer, I will film myself tongue kissing them and, I don’t care if my clothes smell and look like 3 day old barf after being washed in these things, I will change my blog’s title to LG Makes My Panties Wet *get it?* for ONE WHOLE WEEK.

Love,

Melissa

Ugh

Are you kidding me?

Hands are shaking in anger right now.

Let me just say this clearly — devaluing writers in the digital age seems like a bad idea.

Here’s Where I Ask You To Do Stuff

Welcome friends, to the 87th quarterly Melissa Lion Non-Royalties Post. Every quarter I get a statement from my agent explicitly detailing my non-royalties. It tells me how many books I’ve not sold. It’s a little like the time my high school boyfriend sent me a letter in college where he outlined his erect penis, but different.

No, this love letter has a bunch of numbers and my book titles next to them and then at the bottom of a complicated subtraction equation, it says in bold print: UNEARNED BALANCE. This is part of the romance of being a published novelist. I KNOW! Perhaps this is why, when people tell me they want to be writers, I stare at them with this expression:

I would also like to say that it’s 3:40am and I can’t sleep because I might or might not be planning what amounts to a party for 160 people on Wednesday and that’s a little bit of pressure. (BUY TICKETS NOW.) And to see this or this in my hunt for Homer Simpson images is a little…I don’t know… makes me want to say, “Oh internets, you so craaaaaaaaaaaazy!” And then bathe my brain in bleach. That’s do-able right? Wait…let me google it.

Okay, so my UNEARNED BALANCE on Swollen is $2,566.48 and on Upstream is $1,748.50.

What I need is to sell approximately 2,000 copies of Swollen and 1,500 copies of Upstream in order to earn out my advance. And then, after that, I can start earning royalties and we can have a celebration but not a big one, because they’re royalties, which is the equivalent of a kiss after a reach around. I KID, RANDOM HOUSE — HAHAHAHAHLOLHAHAHAHAH!!!!1!!!!!!!#!!!!!

That means, each of you, needs to buy 1000 copies of my books. Not really, more like 800.

It’s actually not that many when you think about America and how many people know how to read in this country. So, maybe we can start an internet revolution, kinda like Stoogiepie did for Crissy when she wooped Dooce’s ass on the hottest Mommy blogger award. GO CRISSY! Crissy then took a nekkid picture of herself because that was the deal and you can find that supa-hot picture on Crissy’s blog if you follow that link above. Maybe I can be persuaded to make a picture of myself if I start earning a royalties on my books. What???

Buy Swollen here. And Upstream here.

And yes, those are links to Barnes and Noble.

Thank you and good night.

You’re Going to Be So Sick of Me

I’m sorry. I know. It’s a little like when Madonna released her Sex book. Total melissalion overload.

I flatter myself, I do.

First, Strange Love Live was a blast and a half. I loved doing it and I hope there will be another sex podcast in the future. My favorite topics were being a wife and mom and being sexy, masturbating and, of course, 69. I know, I’m the only one who loves that. Whatever. Go listen to it now!

And then on Wednesday — Back Fence PDX. You all know the stories are going to be amazing and that you should have your tickets already, right??? Go now. And then come back…we’ll wait.

Waiting…

And then November 8th at Wordstock, I am introducing two authors (the shockingly beautiful Laird Hamilton, and my friend from way back, Ann Packer — California in the HOWSE!) and I’m moderating a Young Adult Historical Fiction panel. They asked me to read, but I politely declined. My reading from my own book days are over. I don’t know that Portland lit lovers are ready for me to stand up there and sing Walkin’ After Midnight just because.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fkkM7K6smQA]

Finally, November 13th, I’m presenting at Ignite Portland. My topic: Story as Bloodsport: Battling to Craft Narrative. Ignite is this very cool thing in Portland. It’s totally free and there are 14 people who present 5 minute ideas. You get 20 slides and at 5 minutes, your sound is cut off and you’re kicked off the stage. Shhh…don’t tell anyone, but I have no idea how to make slides.

But I will be wearing my neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew boots. Presenting my Frye’s.

Banana

Black