The Pros and Cons of Book Aggregators: A Reader’s Guide

In the digital age, book aggregators have revolutionized the way we access and consume literature. Book aggregators bridge the gap between writers and sales outlets. An ebook aggregator, for example, distributes and sells your book to a wide range of online retailers. Smashwords is a great example of an ebook aggregator.

These platforms offer readers a vast array of titles, genres, and authors at their fingertips. However, like any technology, book aggregators come with their own set of advantages and drawbacks.

Let’s explore some of the pros and cons of book aggregators.

Pros of Book Aggregators

1. Access to a Vast Library: Book aggregators provide access to an enormous collection of books, often in the thousands or more. This means you can explore a wide range of genres and discover new authors with ease.
2. Convenience: Book aggregators are accessible from a variety of devices, including eReaders, smartphones, tablets, and computers. You can carry your entire library with you, and purchasing or borrowing books is just a few clicks away.
3. Affordability: Many book aggregators offer affordable pricing options, including free books, discounted titles, and subscription services, making reading more budget-friendly.
4. Customization and Recommendation: These platforms use algorithms to analyze your reading habits and preferences, offering personalized book recommendations. This can help you discover books you might not have found otherwise.
5. eBooks and Audiobooks: Book aggregators often provide both eBook and audiobook formats, catering to a wide audience. You can switch between reading and listening, depending on your mood and circumstances.
6. Portability and Storage: With book aggregators, you can carry an entire library in your pocket. No more bulky bookshelves or the hassle of deciding which books to take on a trip.
7. Environmental Benefits: Choosing eBooks over printed books can have a positive impact on the environment by reducing the demand for paper and ink.

Cons of Book Aggregators

1. Digital Fatigue: Staring at screens for extended periods can lead to digital eye strain and fatigue, which may discourage some readers from using book aggregators.
2. Ownership and Licensing: When you buy eBooks from aggregators, you are often purchasing a license to access the content, rather than owning the book. This means your access can be restricted or revoked by the platform.
3. Privacy Concerns: Some book aggregators collect and store user data, potentially raising privacy concerns. Be sure to review their privacy policies and terms of service.
4. Limited Availability: Not all books are available on every aggregator. Some authors and publishers may choose not to distribute their work through certain platforms, limiting your selection.
5. Loss of the Tangible Experience: For many readers, the physical act of holding a book, flipping through its pages, and enjoying the tactile experience of reading is an irreplaceable aspect of their love for literature.
6. Technical Issues: Technical glitches, device compatibility issues, or connectivity problems can disrupt your reading experience, which is rarely a concern with physical books.
7. Market Dominance: A few major book aggregators dominate the market, potentially limiting competition and choice. This can have an impact on pricing and available features.

The Times, They Are A-Changing

Book aggregators have undoubtedly transformed the way we read and access books. They offer convenience, affordability, and a wealth of literary choices. However, they also come with their own set of challenges, including privacy concerns, digital fatigue, and potential limitations on the ownership of books.

Ultimately, the decision to use book aggregators or stick with physical books depends on your personal preferences and needs. Many readers find that a combination of both formats provides the best of both worlds. Whether you prefer the aroma of paper and the feel of a real book or the convenience and accessibility of digital reading, the world of literature remains at your fingertips, waiting to be explored.

Baking Nostalgia: How to Make Old-Fashioned Peanut Butter Cookies

Do you ever find yourself craving the classic taste of peanut butter cookies that your grandma used to make? I had a craving flung on me the other day that refused to go away.

There’s something undeniably comforting about those old-fashioned peanut butter cookies – soft and chewy with just the right balance of sweet and salty. My craving hung on like white on rice, so there was nothing to do for it but make up a batch of cookies and hope the milk was good and cold.

Since my momma taught me to always share when something good comes along, here’s the recipe for some great little cookies.

 

Ingredients:

• 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
• 1 cup granulated sugar
• 1 cup packed light brown sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 1 cup smooth peanut butter
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• Additional granulated sugar for rolling

 

Instructions:

1. Preheat Your Oven: Preheat your oven to 350°F (180°C) and line your baking sheets with parchment paper or silicone baking mats.
2. Cream the Butter and Sugars: In a large mixing bowl, cream together the softened butter, granulated sugar, and brown sugar until the mixture is light and fluffy. This should take about 2-3 minutes.
3. Add Eggs and Flavor: Beat in the eggs one at a time, followed by the peanut butter and vanilla extract. Mix until the ingredients are well combined.
4. Combine Dry Ingredients: In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, and salt. Gradually add this dry mixture to the wet ingredients and mix until everything is incorporated. Be careful not to overmix, as it can lead to tough cookies.
5. Shape the Dough: Scoop out rounded tablespoons of cookie dough and roll them into balls. Then, roll each ball in granulated sugar, coating it evenly.
6. Create the Classic Crisscross Pattern: Place the sugared dough balls on the prepared baking sheets, leaving some space between them. Use a fork to create the classic crisscross pattern by gently pressing down on each cookie.
7. Bake the Cookies: Bake the cookies in the preheated oven for 10-12 minutes or until they are lightly golden brown at the edges. Remember that the cookies will continue to cook a bit after you remove them from the oven due to the residual heat.
8. Cool and Enjoy: Allow the cookies to cool on the baking sheets for a few minutes before transferring them to a wire rack to cool completely. Once they’re completely cooled, you can indulge in these delightful old-fashioned peanut butter cookies.

These cookies are perfect for dunking in a glass of cold milk or sharing with loved ones. Baking these old-fashioned peanut butter cookies is not just a culinary endeavor; it’s a journey back in time to simpler, cozier days. So, grab your apron, preheat your oven, and savor the delicious nostalgia these cookies have to offer. Enjoy!

The Art of Profanity: Exploring Its Role in Science Fiction and Fantasy Novels

Science fiction and fantasy novels have long been known for pushing the boundaries of imagination and creativity. These genres transport readers to far-off worlds, to unknown galaxies and dimensions, immerse them in realms of magic and alternate realities where anything is possible. In the process, they often delve into complex themes, social commentary, and the human condition.

One frequently controversial and thought-provoking aspect of these genres is the use of profanity. While some may argue that profanity has no place in these imaginative landscapes, others assert that it can enhance storytelling and character development. Let’s take a look at the use of profanity in science fiction and fantasy novels, examining its role, impact, and significance.

The Power of Language

Language is a vital tool for writers in science fiction and fantasy. It’s not just a means of conveying the story but also a way to shape the worlds, cultures, and characters within these genres.

Profanity, like any other form of language, can serve various narrative purposes. Here are a few examples:

• World-Building: In science fiction and fantasy, authors often create entirely new worlds with their own languages, cultures, norms of behavior and taboos. Profanity can play a pivotal role in conveying the customs, values, and slang of these fictional societies. It can serve as a mirror to the real world, reflecting the complexity of language and its influence on culture.
• Character Development: Profanity can be a tool to define characters. How a character swears, or whether they do at all, can reveal aspects of their personality, upbringing, or moral code. A character who uses profanity sparingly may be more reserved or cautious, while one who frequently swears could be seen as bold, rebellious, or crude.
• Emotional Impact: Profanity can heighten the emotional impact of a scene. It can make a character’s anger, frustration, or despair feel more immediate and intense. When used in moderation, it can underscore the gravity of a situation or a character’s emotional state.

The Controversy Surrounding Profanity

Despite its potential benefits, the use of profanity in science fiction and fantasy novels is not without its challenges. Some readers and critics argue that it can detract from the immersive experience, disrupt the flow of the story, or alienate certain audiences.

Each of these detractors has a point. Here are some considerations for authors:

• Overuse: The excessive use of profanity can dilute its impact and make the dialogue less meaningful. Authors must strike a balance between realism and storytelling, choosing when and where to throw in a sprinkling of profanity.
• Offending Readers: What one reader finds acceptable, another might deem offensive. It’s crucial for authors to be aware of their audience and the cultural and societal norms that may influence their perception of profanity.
• Age-Appropriateness: Science fiction and fantasy novels often have a broad readership, including younger readers. Authors should consider whether the use of profanity aligns with the intended age group and the themes of their work.

To Curse or Not to Curse

The use of profanity in science fiction and fantasy novels is a complex issue, and the decision to include it in a story should be deliberate and well-thought-out. When used effectively, profanity can contribute to world-building, character development, and emotional resonance. However, authors should be cautious of overuse, consider the preferences of their audience, and ensure that profanity aligns with the themes and context of their work.

Ultimately, the use of profanity in these genres is a storytelling choice, one that can enhance or detract from the overall narrative. As readers and writers, it’s essential to engage in thoughtful discussions about its role and purpose in the ever-evolving landscape of science fiction and fantasy literature.

As for me personally, I don’t give a rat’s ass.

 

The summer of 2021 — July to be exact — was one of the most memorable summer months in a very long time. It was the summer that Godzilla attacked my home state of Mississippi.

 

If you ever questioned whether the natural events that take place here on planet Earth are in any way interconnected, any doubts you may have had along that line should have vanished when Godzilla walked his dusty ass through Mississippi in July 2021.

 

What is this Godzilla of which I write, you ask?

Godzilla is the nickname meteorologists gave to a huge cloud of dust from the Sahara Desert in northern Africa that blew across the Atlantic Ocean to fuck up my respiratory system for all eternity. The moniker “Godzilla” was chosen because this cloud was one big mamma-jamma, and because it attacked the U.S. Gulf Coast and the southern United States like a beast.

When Godzilla decided to kick my ass, he did it with a vengeance.

It began about midday in the middle of the week. I’m at my home, working on a freelance writing assignment, and I started to feel a scratchy sensation in my throat. I really didn’t think that much of it at the time; I simply upped my consumption of liquids, thinking my throat was just dry. But over the next several hours, the coughing got worse.

By the next day, I couldn’t draw a decent breath without setting off an extended, painful fit of uncontrollable coughing. When my son arrived home from work in mid-afternoon, we loaded up and took me to my doctor’s office. I’d emailed the doc earlier, told him what was going on, and requested he see me, which he agreed to do.

We get to the doctor’s office and my son must go inside to get a wheelchair for me. At this point, I was lightheaded and dizzy from coughing so much. In we go to the doc’s office. The nurse checks my vitals, including the oxygen level in my blood. She looks at the reading (84% on room air) and immediately runs out to get the doc. He comes in, takes one look at me, and says to my son, “Take her to the Emergency Room. Now.”

So…load back up in the car, go to the local Emergency Room, and sit in the waiting room for two hours, coughing and hacking and trying to barf up a lung. They finally get me into the back, check my oxygen level, and inform me that my breathing is not supplying me with adequate oxygen.

Uh…no shit, Sherlock…I hadn’t noticed…

Anyway…lots of breathing treatments, medications, some IV fluids, debate over whether to put me in the hospital or not, and they finally decide to send me home around 2 in the morning. Get home, crash into the bed, lights out ‘cause I’m whooped at this point.

Next day…Godzilla comes back for round two.

The coughing started again in the late afternoon on the day after I homesteaded in the ER for most of the night. Within a few hours, I was once again gasping for air. My son packs me up and heads back to the Emergency Room.

They don’t fart around this time and take me straight to a treatment room upon my arrival at the ER. Again with the breathing treatments, some IV fluids, and medications. They also put me on oxygen. Well…as soon as I started snorting that oxygen, I began to feel better. (Moral of the story: oxygen is our friend.)

So….

Thanks to Godzilla, I’m now on oxygen 24/7.

All because of a cloud of dust.

 

Ain’t that a bitch.

Those Best Laid Plans

 

I graduated from high school in May of 1975. Everything I know about writing, I learned in high school. My English teacher — this was in the days before it became “Language Arts” — was tough as nails, knew her subject matter, and knew how to teach it. Here I am now, more than a few years later, and I can’t tell you the order of operations for a math equation but I know a split infinitive when I see one.

One of the things I recall from the literature portion of my high school studies is a quote by Robert Burns: “The best-laid schemes of mice and men often go awry.” No truer words have ever been uttered. I now find myself in a position where one of my best-laid schemes has gone awry.

After much thought, pondering, cussing and discussing among family and friends, and investigation into the pros and cons, I have decided to take the leap into self-publishing my sci-fi series of novels. This is not a move I take lightly, and I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do. But my gut tells me it is, and I seldom contradict my gut.

I’ve done the query agents thing. I’ve sent my query letter to more than one publishing house. I’ve received more rejections than L’il Abner ever threw at Daisy Mae. I did have one publisher that offered a contract but I had to decline. The conditions were not agreeable to me, which is a fancy way of saying they were seriously trying to screw me over without dinner and a movie first.

I asked myself why I wanted to publish my writing anyway. After more than one sleepless night pondering that particular question, I had to admit to myself that one of the major motivations is the number of people over my lifetime who’ve told me I couldn’t. Not just that I couldn’t publish a novel, but told me I couldn’t do a number of things I wanted to do. I don’t blame them so much as I blame myself for allowing them to convince me I couldn’t.

There are other reasons that I am now unwilling to wait the two or three years it would take to get a novel published through a traditional publisher. The foremost reason is my age. I’m not dead yet but I am on the downhill slide of my life expectancy. Time becomes an issue when you hit the mid-60s. It is for me, anyway.

I also want to get my entire four-novel series available on the market, and possibly a couple of other books if I have time before moving on to the next life. (I used to think Shirley McLane was nutso. Now, not so much…) Not so much because I want to see my name on the cover of an honest-to-God novel but because I want to leave my son something of potential value. Whatever my efforts garner in royalty payments will continue to go to him after I’m pushing up daisies. He’s my biggest fan and number one cheerleader, so he deserves it.

So…thus begins the grand foray into the world of independent publishing, making me an official independent author. We’ll see how it goes…

Ode to Grape Salad

 There are some things in this world that border on Heaven on Earth. I’ve never been to Heaven (that I’m aware of) so I can’t make a 100% comparison, but I can certainly name a few things that surely must come close. If there is any semblance of righteousness and justice in this plane of existence, these things are right up there at the top of the “got to be damn close to Heaven on Earth” list.

First on the list is cheesecake.

It doesn’t matter whether it’s a cheesecake from the grocery store deli, from the high-end bakery in the hoity-toity section of town, one your Aunt Matilda brings to every family get-together and claims she made herself from scratch but you all know it’s from a mix, one you make at home from your own great-grandmother’s recipe or one of those no-bake mixes you whipped up with your trusty hand mixer.

Doesn’t matter what fruit you top it with, or whether you even bother to add a topping. A slice of cheesecake is a slice of Heaven.

Second on the list: grapes.

We’re talking fresh grapes of any color, grape jelly, grape jam, and grapes magically transformed into a fine wine. Grapes are definitely a gift to humanity from [insert name of your favorite deity here.]

You can even sun-dry those babies into raisins. A grape by any other name….

Hell, they even look good just sitting in a bowl on the counter. So, if you don’t like to eat them (perhaps you have alien ancestors or something), you can use them as a nice decorative item.

You can’t go wrong with grapes.

If you truly want to experience a taste of pure Heaven, indulge yourself in the single most unbelievably delicious concoction humankind has ever concocted.

Grape salad.

Picture it….

Fresh, crisp, chilled grapes. I personally like the greens, reds, and blacks. Seedless, of course.

A chilled, firmly set but not too stiff mixture of cheesecake (unbaked). Add to this cream cheese whipped until creamy smooth, with sugar to taste and a dash of pure maple syrup to taste. Whip it all together and place in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes.

Place your washed grapes in a bowl. Spoon your cheesecake mixture over them and gently mix.

Sit down, prop your feet up, relax and stuff your face with this to-die-for burst-of-goodness-in-every-bite.

Or you can go with potato chips and a beer. Heaven is in the [insert your favorite body part here] of the beholder….

 

Now that April is here, I’m wondering how I’ll get 64 candles on my birthday cake or if I should even try. There’s probably some sort of law against starting a potentially destructive fire of such magnitude. Maybe I’ll go with those numeral candles. That would only be two little flames on top — one on the six and one on the four.

I’m at the age that I really don’t care about having candles on my birthday cake. It’s still nice to have a cake and a dab of ice cream to go with it, there’s no denying that. But I’m not going to get my panties in a wad if I don’t get one.

If I did have a cake and candles, I’d have to blow them out. Huffing and puffing to put out that many little flames wouldn’t be a problem but the making a wish part could get a bit difficult.

What do I have to wish for?

I have the son I always wanted, and he’s grown into a good, honest, strong man. I could not ask for a better child. He’s working full time, building his life, and taking care of his business. He’s turned out fantastic, in spite of his not-wound-so-tight momma.

He did inherit my potty mouth but I can’t complain. I know where he learned it.

Back to the wish thing.

I have my own home that sits on a little plot of land that’s all mine. I have family and friends that I love dearly and who love me back. I have three dogs that adore me unconditionally, as dogs are wont to do.

I have clothes to wear, food to eat (which I consume in mass quantities at times), and a car for transportation. I’m warm in the winter and cool in the summer.

There are a ton of things I’d like to have, things that I want. But none of it is something I need. I have what I need. And I know the difference between need and want. So, I think I’ll pass on the whole “make a wish” tradition this year. I’ve done it for 63 years. I’ll donate my wish to someone who needs it more than I do this year.

 

You’re welcome.

 

Waiting for Mister Inspiration

Short stories have never been my favorite form of writing. I always found them difficult to compose because I tend toward the “long-winded” end of the rainbow. Cutting the tale off at a preordained word count is difficult sometimes.

Take, for example, my very first dive into creative writing. It was in the mid-1980s. My (then) husband (now ex- and good riddance) and I developed an affinity for table-top role-playing games. Specifically, we got hooked on playing Advanced Dungeons and Dragons, or AD&D. Along with a few other family friends, we had a gaming group that met regularly.

As part of creating our AD&D gaming world, we all decided to write up a background biography on our main character. It didn’t have to be anything fancy or in-depth; a couple of paragraphs, maybe a page. Just some background detail to add depth to the character each member played.

My character’s background biography concluded after approximately five hundred pages, double spaced with one-inch margins. “Long-winded” is putting it mildly.

This brings me to my current predicament. Since I began freelance writing in 2015, I’ve trained myself to limit my writing word count. When a client orders webpage content with a thousand-word limit, they don’t want five hundred pages. And they certainly aren’t going to pay for that much. So, I’ve finally conquered the demon from my youth that insisted a story wasn’t complete until it topped at least a hundred thousand words.

I can write flash fiction with a five-hundred-word limit or a short story with a thousand-word limit. I’ve entered a couple of my short works in contests on writer review and critique websites to which I’m a member. And I’ve won a couple of them! (Grab that cash prize and head to the Wal-Mart!  Woo-hoo!)

Now another contest has just opened up, one I very much want to enter. And while I’ve mastered the art of tailoring the story to fit the word limit, the Muse still gets a little bitchy sometimes and refuses to cooperate. It seems Lady Muse still prefers the novel-length tale and really isn’t interested in what I want.

So, here I sit, impatiently waiting for Mister Inspiration to illuminate a lightbulb above my head. The contest is for a short story featuring a mystical or magical creature—it can be an established, well-known creature like a dragon or unicorn or a beast spawned in the writer’s imagination. Length is one- to three-thousand words. How much of that count do I have put to virtual paper at this point? Exactly zero. Nada. Not a single word. Not so much as the first word of a title.

I intended to pound out a story for the contest when I sat down at my laptop this morning. This blog entry is the result. Not exactly contest material.

A Muse is a great thing. One with an attitude can be a pain in the ass at times.

Why I attracted a Muse with an attitude is beyond me…

 

©Bobbie R. Byrd, February 2021

Photo by Voicu Dragomir on Unsplash

 

 

 

I’m a loony magnet; I have been my whole life. If there’s a certified nut-job within a hundred miles, that son-of-a-bitch will find me every time.

By way of example, here’s what happened to me in a mall in Albuquerque, New Mexico, in 1998. (Full disclosure: true story.)

I’m strolling through the mall with a friend—a gentleman who’s a local police officer. I had the day off from my job as an RN with a home health agency, and he was also free that day. So we decide to take in a movie.

Strolling through the mall, talking with my friend, I’m not paying attention to those around me. This was a time in this country when you didn’t worry about every person you pass in a mall being a mass shooter or spreading Covid Cooties.

Anyway…

We’re walking around, killing time by window shopping, and generally bullshitting before the movie. Apparently, my loony magnet kicked in. It’s a major bitch because I get no warning that it’s activated, so there’s no preparing for whatever’s coming.

Out of nowhere, this male person is suddenly in my face, both hands grabbing the front of my shirt at the collar. He obviously hasn’t bathed in months. (I base this observation on the smell of my nose hairs burning from the stench of ammonia and body odor assailing me.)

His fetid breath blasts into my face; he’s shaking me and tossing me around, screaming, “They’re here! I saw them! You have to hide! They’re here! They’ll kill us all! You have to hide!”

My friend, who had gone to the restroom, comes rushing out from the side corridor. I yell at him, “Get this motherfucker off me!”

Which my friend does, in true heroic cop fashion. He has the loony on the floor and is incapacitated in no time. He uses his phone to call his fellow police officers while I take a seat on a bench and try not to shit myself.

“What the fuck?” my friend says.

“Loony magnet,” I reply. “Told ya.”

He looks at the now-incoherently mumbling vagabond on the floor. “This is Crazy Nick. He never comes to this side of Albuquerque. Never goes near a mall. He’s scared of a crowd of more than three people.”

I shrug and light a cigarette with shaking hands. “Loony magnet. A powerful thing.”

I did not press charges on the poor thing. He was placed with adult social services and institutionalized, I learned later. And before anyone busts my chops over it, I quit smoking in 1999.

So, what brought on the telling of this story?

I am working to increase my social media presence. ‘Those-in-the-know’ tell me if I want to build a fictional writing career, I need a social media presence and a trove of followers.

Twitter is a fun platform that I’m learning. But it is already apparent that the loony magnet is still alive and functional.

*Sigh*

Where’s the “block” feature on this app?