Little Angel Delivered Today Via E-Section
After a short wait and a surprisingly pleasant delivery, my little Angels & Genies came into the world this morning a little after midnight. Mother and offspring are reading. The entire gestation period was about three and a half months and, despite the reputation of accelerated genie fertilization, it really has little to do with Proud Papa Imagination and everything to do with electronic publishing (forthwith to be known as e).
Of course, part of that placental maximization is due to this little creature having low birth weight. Angels & Genies is a novella, weighing in just under 17,000 words. But still… I conceived of the idea of the jinni Match Ramsey, Angeline Delaire and their womb mates, wrote, revised, and submitted in about three weeks. My physician Dr. All Romance eBooks confirmed that my pregnancy had “taken” about three weeks after that. Three months after that, I am blissfully nursing my tiny tome in the soft backlight of my computer screen. (…although you can see images on your iPhone and various other readers.) Even at that rate, my delivery was delayed in order to make room for 27 other babies created for the 28 Days of Heart. (Dr. All Romance is concerned about all the organs.) My E-section was slated for February 24th…my own little Pisces.
Traditional and E Publishing Would Have Such Pretty Babies
So what’s my point? Do I have a point? …Give me a minute….I’m post-partum hormonal. Right –> Time. Must authors who publish outside of the digital delivery room have the gestation of an elephant? (which is 22 months, by the way, and about matches the current wait for an author to see her traditionally published book on a traditional bookshelf…nursery theme of mega-bookstore.)
As traditional and e publishers (t & e) wage a wary courtship, issues like staff size, editing schedules, printing process, distribution, and, let’s just be honest, tradition are thrown on the marital bed. Granted, there is a massive quality control dowry that comes with t. And that’s a good thing. Manuscripts are read and considered, filtered and screened before they’re even allowed into the publisher’s boudoir.
But a good e-publisher does that, too. I defy anyone to say my little baby was not well edited. I had a terrific editor who went through normal and thorough rounds of goo on my creative belly to improve the ultrasound image. Seems to me that the pre-eclampsia in t sets in when it’s time to make the keepsake of paper and print and then distribute to the various aunties and uncles who will proudly promote the new arrival. Hard to speed that up. Wait, it’s called technology.
Is there a way to expedite the gestational delay? I don’t know. And is such prolific procreation even necessary? The only example I can think of is when a series is involved or a reader is eager to see the growing brood of a particular author. As a literary parent myself, I find it frustrating to be told that I’ll have to delay my cooing over a new release from a favorite author for another year or so. Meanwhile, I’m apt to transfer my affections to another chubby digital baby in my Kindle cradle.
Traditionally published authors must suffer such cravings during their pregnancies, eager to hold and caress and flip through their new arrival. That’s not to say that e-authors don’t have cravings, too. Many writers in the e-book world do not have representation. I’ve often been awakened during my e-pregnancy by tender, wistful images of a literary agent leaning over the crib and shaking a little rattle. Or it may have been gas.
One consideration would be for t & e to get into bed together. Restructure the experienced traditional editors and production managers into in-house e-boutiques where the focus is on fewer titles more rapidly produced. More boutiques = more titles. A brothel-like hive of literary love. T could hook into the online audience that e has been wisely wooing. Date night. Hire more editors, rather than paring the profession to a few overwhelmed baby daddys and mommas. Bricks-and-mortar bookstores could provide in-store conjugal visits with online downloads, for which they get a percentage…and a binky.
I realize such suggestions are merely truisms in a t & e world already exploring and developing many ways to keep our babies safe. But when an author is a new parent, you just want every author to be as happy as you are. Cootchy-coo.
Just peek at my little darling. Feel free to share your baby photos here. I love seeing new releases…

As I’ve been listening to the audiobook of Zorro by Isabel Allende, I’ve been getting hungry. Hungry for a tale to be unraveled, slow-roasted, and served up with all encumbent suspense, emotion, twists and turns. But in a way that I don’t have to stay tuned for hours and hours. (Zorro is a long tale.)
Wait, did someone say digitized? Okay, so deliver information in a way that is already accepted, electronically. Currently, most e-books are just regular books published digitally. How can you accommodate the ADD of the reading public and retain the craft of storytelling, the integrity of the tale, getting to know the characters? The answer: Serial. Rather serialized fiction. One of the first serials in history was A Thousand and One Nights (The Arabian Nights). Scheherezade related a new installment night after night to maintain the interest of her husband, who was going to have her killed the minute that interest waned. (That’s pressure!) Another type of serial that nearly everyone through history and childhood has experienced: The bedtime tale. Little bits of imagination unveiled and resolved in the space of time it takes to grow weary.