A fellow alumni has blogged me here:
And the promotion on the page indicates a signed copy of the paperback. That paperback is soon to go away due to AQP’s closure, so maybe it may be worth something someday.
I’m ready to be rich and famous. I’ll put my autograph onto anything. Napkins, chests, books…
(I could NOT have said it any better.)
By now almost everyone in the small and independent publishing world has heard the news that Amber Quill is closing its doors. While it comes as a shock to everyone, not the least to the authors who have published there, it is primarily a sign of the times.
How many mom and pop stores have closed when a Big Box superstore came to town? WalMart has killed hundreds of small local stores all over America. Good or bad, it is a fact of this era. Amazon is the nine hundred pound gorilla in every area of publishing outside of the New York hub and probably gaining ground there as well. Big dogs do not like competition and they do not subscribe to the traditional ethics of us small folk in determining how they get rid of any ‘lesser’ beings who dare to intrude on their profits. It is not my intent to rant on the political aspects of the modern economy but I do want to point out that a firm finding itself unable to continue in this climate deserves no shame or scorn.
I am sure there will be rumors and snarkisms flying at this point. I’m here to warn you, watch out what you say. I have been with Amber Quill for twelve years and have a total of sixty two story and novella length works with them, five novels and eleven collections or anthologies in print. I did not stay there and submit to them the bulk of my work for this span of time because I had no other choices. I stayed there because I felt it was my best choice among the many e-publishers, a lot of whom have come and gone during the time I have been a published writer, since 2001. Many left a bad taste in the mouths of all who had associated with them. I am sure I do not need to name names! We all know who they were and who some still are.
At any rate, back in 2002 several authors who had been stung in just such situations banded together to form a company, vowing to do it right. In my opinion they did an admirable job. Amber Quill has billed itself “The gold standard in publishing” and I do not feel that was an exaggeration. In twelve years I have never had a late royalty check or a suspicious accounting statement of the period’s sales. I have not had to front any cost of creating my books and found the editing, formatting, cover art and all other services to be truly outstanding. From this and personal contact with them, I know how the owners have worked, the heart and soul they all put into it. I also feel their personal anguish at this time when they realized it was no longer economically feasible to continue with the enterprise they had birthed and nourished. As much as I grieve for myself and my fellow AQ authors in this loss, I hurt more for them. Yet I hope they can take pride and consolation in knowing they have done a truly outstanding job for the duration.
That being said, I do not want to hear any innuendos, no snarky, sly remarks and no scathing put downs period. Anything said in that vein would be completely false and ill-deserved as far as I am concerned. The owners and staff of Amber Quill has fought a good fight and created a memorable enterprise, one which will continue to be a gold standard which others will have to strive hard to emulate. Even in the difficult business of closing, they are acting with the highest ethics and sensitivity for all involved. I call that a true class act. RIP Amber Quill; you will be remembered by many with deep love and respect. To all those who must now walk away, go in well deserved peace and harmony. Hold your heads high and be proud; you have done more than many ever will.
Bad news from the publisher. They’re closing their doors March 31st.
I love them. I adore them and will never say a thing ill about them. I will miss them muchly, muchly.
Sure, it’s no fun to be an orphaned author but on the upside, I have some buddies and I can network with them.
Oh, and I did.
I’ve sent Arrival and Butterball, as well as the unpublished The Pirate’s Cove, into Loose-ID. Yes, I cut the line by knowing (and using) an internal employee. Hey, like The Godfather said in the movie: “It’s just business.”
Don’t hate the player; hate the game.
Those of you who have purchased Trade Paperback of my novels via Amazon, I love you. Keep these first editions handy. One day they’ll be worth something. (My mouth to God’s ear.)
So here I am, writing and watching the Steve Wilkos show. Again.
The subject triggers the memories of my childhood abuse. Again.
The girl, like me, just wants people to hear her. Believe her.
Her “mommy” has the gall to say, “I said I was sorry!”. Just like my Momma Dearest. Oh, and “I TRIED to take care of you!”
Freak. Monster. Hellhound.
No, that’s not enough. You had YEARS to stop it. You chose not to. Why? Financial concerns are the usual reason. Oh, and for mine, drugs as well. (If he left the house, then her stream of coke would dry up. She’d have to pay for it with something other than her daughter’s flesh. How inconvenient!)
No. Unforgiven. Your gruding “I said I was sorry!” doesn’t excuse your indifference to the abuse.
Steve Wilkos, you do a good thing in bringing this topic out of the shadows. You do a good thing by giving we victims a voice.
Thank you, Steve Wilkos.
…yet I am alone again on Thanksgiving. Why? Because I will not surrender to the sociopath who dominates one side of my family, and because the other side of my family is…always absent, for some reason. Maybe it’s me? I ask for help and those people often say “no.”
The other? I’d rather be alone on the holidays, and wearing the brand of the Devil’s Handmaiden who torments their Pure and Perfect Saint, than to be on my knees, bloodied as they are.
Like Lucifer said: “It’s better to rule in Hell than to serve in Heaven.”
I hope your holiday season is warm and loving and, please, never forget that a loving family is a gift from God. Not all of us have one.
For those of us who do not, don’t give up. Remember:
Everybody hurts so, no, you’re not alone
Recognize this guy?
How about this guy?
Yeah, it took me a long while also.
My beloved daughter’s father, way back in our 18th year. I’ve tried many times to tell you I’m sorry. At least I can tell myself and our daughter that I tried.
I wish only the best for you and yours.