What Book Publishers Do Right and What They Do Wrong

I love books. They have my friends since I learned how to read and there are somewhere around 1000 in my house not counting e-books or audio books. There is no way I will ever be able to read all of them in my life-time but that doesn’t keep my from purchasing more.

Except I have not been purchasing anywhere near as many books as I once did. This has much to do with the pricing of books. Hard cover books are excessively expensive. Enough so that unless you purchase them from a small, local bookstore you get anything from a 10-30% discount on purchasing them. Trade editions (the ones that are somewhere between the size of a hard cover and the size of most paperbacks, also known as mass market) are less than 1/2 the price of hard covers only they don’t come with any sort of discount. Shame in my opinion. Mass market prices have gone up $1-3 in the last four or five years. Then you have electronic books. In some cases they are the same price as trade books which makes them more expensive than the physical book. In other cases they are the same price or only $1-3 less, making them the same price I would have expected to pay for a physical copy five years ago. The electronic copy of a book does not have the same value or worth as a physical copy but we, the consumers, are expected to not realize that. That’s without getting into the whole DRM/DRM-free battle. I’ll leave that to my husband to explain.

The long story short here is that I have avoided purchasing many books because I cannot justify putting yet another book on my already overflowing bookshelves that I may or may not read. I also am unable to justify the price of the electronic copy of the book even if that’s the most convenient way to read.

There are two publishers (that I am aware of) that continue to price-fix their e-books so they are more than their physical books and are sold with DRM. The biggest culprit of this, at least of the publishers that I tend to read books from, is Penguin Group which publishes most of its sci-fi/fantasy books under Ace Publishing. They were so bad that I just wrote a letter to Penguin Group voicing my concerns. You can read it at the end if you’re curious.

Some publishers are slowly figuring this out. They are making a token effort at satisfying their consumers. Their electronic books are at least consistently less than mass market books and they are DRM-free. Tor/Forge of Macmillan is the best example that I’m aware of, again because they are the sci-fi/fantasy publishing company for Macmillan. They’ve at least made a few steps in the right direction. O’Reilly Publishing has gone even further. They publish technical books (I keep mistaking them for text-books) and give their consumers the option to purchase the e-book in addition to their physical books for an additional $5 just by entering the ISBN number. Considering the fact that the absolute cheapest I’ve seen any of their books is $32 and they go as high $150 that is a fantastic deal.

I’ve seen individual authors do some really cool things too. Small, self-published authors frequently keep their e-books under $5, closer to $3, and will even give their first book for free to get people reading. There are several authors that I’ve started to read because of programs like that. Even big-name authors give cool deals to their readers when they can. The most recent I can think of was Brandon Sanderson who emailed the e-book of one of his novellas to anyone who emailed him a picture of them holding a copy of the physical book without asking for a penny more. He is really pleased with how that has worked out for him and is hoping to be able to do similar programs with his books in the future. He would really love to see the big publishers doing something like that for their consumers. He’s really pushing it for his next big release and I decided to email his primary publisher, Tor/Forge (Macmillan), to encourage this practice. Again, email can be found at the bottom.

I cannot wait for the time when publishers realize that e-books are the way to go. I am dearly attached to my physical books. I also dread moving them and needing to purchase more and more bookshelves. I like the convenience of my e-reader. I’ve already written about the pros and cons, here, so I won’t repeat all of it. Let’s just go with that the idea that I like both and see the pros and cons of both but like carrying my ereader around a whole hell of a lot more than all my physical books. I tend to hurt physical books when I carry them around.

There are a few good options for publishers. I addressed some of those in my email to Tor/Forge asking them to consider allowing consumers to purchase physical books and then get the ebook version either free or at a much reduced price. I would highly encourage anyone else who seriously enjoys reading books, whether they use an ereader (yet) or not, to email various publishers about this too. You could even copy what I’ve written below, though I would encourage you to add your own thoughts as well. My first email below is requesting a publisher to bundle physical books and ebooks together. The second is my email to Penguin Publishing regarding their horrid ebook pricing. It’s maybe a bit more negative in tone than I normally write, but they continue to anger me. My husband and I both will be writing to every publisher every time we don’t purchase a book because of stupid price schemes. If you’re upset by some of the not so awesome policies of publishers, I would also encourage you to email/write them about it as well.

Whether you do voice any concerns to publishers or not, thank you for reading this.

To whom it may concern,

I am writing you on behalf of myself and my husband. We are both avid readers and have been frequent purchasers of books published by Macmillan or subsidiaries, particularly Tor/Forge books. We have also grown quite fond of e-books due to their convenience and the fact that we can both read the same book(s) at the same time. This has also put us in a bit of a pickle. It is difficult for us to justify purchasing a physical book unless it is a special circumstance, e.g. a release from an author we want to display on our bookcases, but it is even more difficult to justify purchasing the e-book when it is either the same price or within $3-4 of the physical book. An electronic copy of a book is not worth the $5-10 that we are asked to pay. This has led us to purchase far fewer books than we otherwise would purchase. We leave bookstores empty handed seven times out of ten. We both have dozens of books on our individual Amazon wishlists that will never be purchased at their current pricing.

There is a solution that already seems to be working well for the movie industry and a practice that has also worked well for O’Reilly Publishing. When a consumer purchases a movie they often are purchasing an electronic copy of the movie as well. The movie industry does continue to sell movies and continues to make good profits. O’Reilly Publishing has set it up on their website so that a consumer can download a technical book for $5 after entering in the ISBN number for a physical copy of the text that they own. Again, they continue to make profits and have made no indication that they intend to change their policy. I would not propose that you rely upon the honor system like what O’Reilly does. However, what I propose would be two things: A hardcover purchase comes with a free copy of the electronic version of the book in whatever format each consumer’s e-reader supports. A soft cover purchase, whether trade or mass market, will come with the option for a reader to add on the electronic version for $1 more, again in whatever format works with their e-reader. This would also make the decision to shop at the local bookstore, as compared to Amazon or other online retailers, easier.

Another anecdotal note is based on comments from Brandon Sanderson at a recent book signing. He experimented with giving his readers the e-book copy of his novella, Emperor’s Soul, if they emailed him a picture of them holding the physical book. He has had good sales for this novella and has gotten many positive responses from his readers for this action. I personally believe that he is part of the leading wave of authors who have recognized that readers want to have options like this and that e-books will not kill the book industry but can be complimentary if handled properly.

I can guarantee that people like my husband and I, who are not alone in our desire to support authors and new books being released, would make many more book purchases.

Thank you for your time and consideration

Grumpy email to Penguin:

To whom it may concern,

I am writing you concerning the price of the e-book Starship Troopers by Robert Heinlein currently published by Ace, a subsidiary of Penguin. This book was released in 1959 and was an award winning and best selling book at that time. It is still considered a must read for any sci-fi reader. However, you have lost at least 2 purchasers of a new copy in all formats because of your pricing for the e-book. $9.99 for an electronic copy of a book that has been available in mass market, currently priced at $8.99, for over 50 years is unacceptable. I have spoken with multiple people regarding my disgust at this pricing scheme, the vast majority of whom also read e-books. When I do purchase this book it will be at a used bookstore specifically with the intention to avoid giving you, the publisher, my additional financial support. I will not purchase any e-books from Penguin Group Publishing nor any of its subsidiaries until your anti-consumer policies have changed. I will also not purchase any other books, physical or audio, from your publishing group. I will continue to discuss my concerns with friends, family and co-workers to educate them on the way some publishers prey on their consumers.

Sincerely, a former Ace/Penguin group consumer,

Checking Off All the Little Boxes

As with any job there are trends that I have observed in the psych field that seem to occur every year. The transition from spring to fall is when we start to see those who are depressed come out of the wood work. Winter is when we see the more at risk population, low income, frequently homeless and those with a history of incarceration. Spring is when we start to see higher incidence of mania and/or psychosis. Summer is a bit of a hodge-podge, but I think there tends to be more family related stress and strife that plays into that. Kids are at home, there are higher expectations for temp workers to find employment and it’s hot. People get grumpy and pissy and irritated when they’re hot.

Let’s focus on that bipolar population, sorry, I really should say it as the population who has a history of bipolar disorder/suffers from bipolar (let’s call it BPD I/II from now on). Like I said above, most tend to go into a more manic phase at this time of year. Not everyone though. Some get the pleasant experience of a mixed episode meaning that they experience some depression symptoms and some manic symptoms. This group tends to be at the absolute highest risk of suicide: feeling suicidal, coming up with a plan and they have the fucking energy to be able to actually carry through with those plans. The sad part is that they have the highest rate of success. I’ll go look up the research again should anyone want to see that. My knowledge is coming from stuff I had discovered in 2007 when I was desperately trying to figure out the world of psych for my first job and then from observations throughout the years. Incidentally it’s also one of the major reason why people who start on anti-depressants are at higher risk for suicidal thoughts and carrying out plans; the antidepressants don’t affect their thinking and emotional state as quickly as they affect the physical symptoms of depression. They get the energy and even some motivation before they actually start to feel better. It sort of mimics what a mixed bipolar episode does for people.

Anyway, the point of this post is that I fall into the smaller group of people with BPD that are more likely to feel depression than mania at any change in seasons. That is partially because I have the type II version which nearly always tend toward depression rather than the hypo mania side. I think I’ve experienced hypo-mania only a handful of times in my life and those episodes are nearly always followed by a pretty strong crash into depression. I normally can observe the symptoms and act on them before they get to the absolute bottom. I start eating healthier, exercise more, attempt to read more, make a good go at trying to get better sleep, and all that good jazz. It’s actually the primary reason why I do any of these, not to lose weight, not to look better in my favorite jeans, though those are all really awesome bonuses.

This year hasn’t been so kind about it. Over the last 6 months I have continued to experience various symptoms of depression despite taking all the above actions and asking my doc for some med changes. What really has sucked is that the last three months I finally got hit hard by the complete lack of motivation to do what I need to in order to keep myself from tanking further. Exercise? Yeah, non-existent. Eating better? Forget it. Wanting to do much of anything? Ha! That’s funny. Feeling good about my job and what I’m doing there? Eh, still some of that, but it’s really damn hard to get myself to not be cynical and wanting to interact with patients much. By Saturdays I’m kind of useless. I try to get as much done in the morning since I developed that routine and if I don’t complete it, I’m fucked.

I wasn’t fully aware of just how bad things had gotten until my husband started to ask me about it. The fact that he was aware and able to ask about it is saying something because he really doesn’t have the awareness of such things that some/many people do. I had given him some reference material when we first started dating and even gave him a pretty clear (I thought) list of symptoms that I tend to experience, subjective and objective. A few months ago when I asked him about it again he told me point blank that he really couldn’t notice the subtle changes over time much at all. He’s never been very good at reading many of those things and whatnot so it’s honestly not much of a surprise. He’s a tech dude, he gets tech things really well and is great at problem solving but when it comes to things that he can’t do much about he is pretty apathetic about them. When it does get to the point that he is completely aware it really is hard for him to deal with. He wants to fix it. He wants to make it go away. But it’s not that easy, probably partially because I really am not good at listening to anything or anyone once I get to this point.

I think it’s probably a bad thing when all the things that I’m upset about in relation to myself are basically check boxes for the DSM-IV diagnosis for depression. Let’s look at this list from NIMH:
Major Depressive Disorder requires two or more major depressive episodes.

Diagnostic criteria:

Depressed mood and/or loss of interest or pleasure in life activities for at least 2 weeks and at least five of the following symptoms that cause clinically significant impairment in social, work, or other important areas of functioning almost every day

1. Depressed mood most of the day. Worse the last three or so weeks, but been experiencing some since November.

2.Diminished interest or pleasure in all or most activities. Reading? Meh. Exercising? None. Wanting to go out? Eh. I’ve really only gotten excited by a few select things, many of which I’m really not as excited about as I would have been a year ago. Even then it’s a very short-term thing. *sigh*

3.Significant unintentional weight loss or gain. Actually this one I’m not experiencing as much. Some weight gain, but that’s what happens when you go from a 1350 calorie a day diet and exercise to around 2500 and not exercising.

4.Insomnia or sleeping too much. Ugh, yes. If I don’t take something to help me sleep I toss and turn the whole damn night. I don’t actually seem to fall asleep and stay asleep until sometime after 6 or 7 am. Given that I only got to sleep past 8-9am two days a week until this last week that was pretty significant. Now I get four days a week, but holy crap is it hard to get up. Work or school were pretty much the only things that could pull me from bed from 11am. Now that I am not in school, well let’s just say I haven’t gotten much of anything accomplished this last week.

5.Agitation or psychomotor retardation noticed by others. Anytime I am not at home. Especially if I am with or around people. It’s not as pronounced at work, but it’s been commented on several times the last few weeks. Yay for nearly autistic like repetitive movements to decrease anxiety…

6.Fatigue or loss of energy. Why don’t they have this as number 5 rather than 6? It goes so much better with the insomnia question. Anyway, yeah. This is probably my biggest complaint. I am freaking tired all the time. Doesn’t matter how much or how little sleep I’ve gotten, whether I have plans or things to do or absolutely nothing at all to do, I am exhausted. It sucks.

7.Feelings of worthlessness or excessive guilt. Not too bad, not yet. I’m starting to feel some of this, especially since I haven’t been much interested in doing things I need to like helping around the house. Blargh.

8.Diminished ability to think or concentrate, or indecisiveness. Worse so than usual, yes. Indecisiveness is something I always experience, but not to this extent. Lack of ability to think or concentrate? Oh yeah. I am slow to respond or pick up on what others are saying and am definitely more flighty than usual. The only thing I really seem to be able to concentrate on is a book when I’m reading, but even that is iffy.

9.Recurrent thoughts of death (APA, 2000, p. 356). I don’t think so, though it’s hard to tell since there is a lot of conversation at work about our suicidal patients. What I really want is just to be able to sleep until I actually have gotten enough *good* sleep to be functional again. I don’t know if that counts or not, but I’m leaning towards no. Maybe some of the therapists/counselors I know would disagree, but really I don’t care all that much whether they disagree with me or not. I don’t feel like I’m suicidal. I haven’t actually thought about what it would be like for me to die or even thought about plans. I have discussed what people do that just seem silly or don’t actually work, but that’s about it.

Just for shits and giggles, let’s take a look at the manic side of things too.
Bipolar 2 Disorder, in which the primary symptom presentation is recurrent depression accompanied by hypomanic episodes (a milder state of mania in which the symptoms are not severe enough to cause marked impairment in social or occupational functioning or need for hospitalization, but are sufficient to be observable by others).

Manic episodes are characterized by:

A.A distinct period of abnormally and persistently elevated, expansive, or irritable mood, lasting at least 1 week (or any duration if hospitalization is necessary) Ugh, irritated mood is one of the major things that my husband noticed. I’m irritable, easily agitated and more and more frequently difficult to get along with. I know that some people actually have irritable or angry depression so I don’t know if this is depression related or not.

B.During the period of mood disturbance, three (or more) of the following symptoms have persisted (4 if the mood is only irritable) and have been present to a significant degree:

(1)increased self-esteem or grandiosity Not so much, no.

(2)decreased need for sleep (e.g., feels rested after only 3 hours of sleep) Definitely not.

(3)more talkative than usual or pressure to keep talking Maybe pressure to keep talking, but I don’t believe so.

(4)flight of ideas or subjective experience that thoughts are racing Is the inability to really control where my thoughts go or what they do part of flight of ideas or racing thoughts? I don’t know that they are racing except when I’m feeling massively anxious, but maybe? Probably not.

(5)distractibility (i.e., attention too easily drawn to unimportant or irrelevant external stimuli) Ugh, yes. Too much of anything overwhelms me and makes it difficult to focus or concentrate on anything, but again, this is also a symptom for depression or at least one of the things that tends to come up with depression.

(6)increase in goal-directed activity (either socially, at work or school, or sexually) or psychomotor agitation Psychomotor agitation, yes, but that’s also a symptom for depression and anxiety as well.

(7)excessive involvement in pleasurable activities that have a high potential for painful consequences (e.g., engaging in unrestrained buying sprees, sexual indiscretions, or foolish business investments)” (APA, 2000, p. 362). Luckily for me, no. The closest would be buying sprees, but I usually force myself to think about things for a while before purchasing. It also helps that I don’t have that much in the way of expendable cash.

So there may be some hypo-mania mixed in there too, but if so it’s nothing compared to this fucking depression. It’s interesting how easy it is to check those things off right now. Well, it’ll probably be more interesting when I come back and look at this in a few months, but I can look forward to that.

This post has gotten waaaay too long so I’ll just leave it off here. If you got all the way down here, wow, kudos to you. You are now free to return to your regularly scheduled day and activities, whatever those are.

This Trendy “Strong is the New Skinny” Thing (and what it could mean for the next generation of girls)

This is awesome.

Sophieologie

*UPDATE: Here’s a PG-Version of this blog post, for those of you who wish to Spread the Strength among those of innocent ears*

First of all, hi everyone. It feels like I haven’t blogged about anything sociologically substantial in a while, and I might be a bit rusty so please pardon the potentially poor prose.

Anyhoozle.

Now that I’ve graduated from McGill and no longer have to whittle away the hours of cushy student life by blogging nonsensically about sociological things, what have I been doing with myself?

WELL. That brings me to today’s topic.

My strange, wonderful, and illuminating journey working in the fitness industry.

View original post 2,342 more words

This really should be a “diary” thing rather than a blog post

Yeah, not really worth reading, but hey, it’s written so it’s going up.

Yay happy times: done with my first semester back at school. Huzzah! Now to wait for the grades. *sigh* I get about a month break then it’s time for summer semester, but hey, something of a break is better than nothing. Now to get ready for what will hopefully be my last math class in quite a while and what I am told may be the easiest class I will ever take, psych 101. I’m looking forward to neither of them really. Psych is something I love, but I really don’t enjoy learning much of the intro stuff – it’s almost like a history course rather than a human behavior course. Memorizing dates and names and all that good jazz. Ah well. And math… well, math is math. Useful, sure. But I don’t have any desire to do much with it beyond the basics. If I need to do more than the absolute basics then I have google and several friends and family that I can bug about such things. Maybe that’s just me being lazy. *shrugs*

My anxiety made a massive come back yesterday. Well, really it started on Sunday and just didn’t go away. I think it’s still here today, just not at quite the same level. It takes a lot of strength not to laugh when my patients try to tell me that I don’t have anxiety and could never understand how it feels. Their assumption that because I work in psych that I must not have any sort of psych troubles at all, despite the fact that they are completely normal human reactions to life, is kind of a compliment. We must be superheroes or something. Of course, I am usually being told that I’m heartless and just don’t understand and why do I even work in healthcare when I don’t give a fuck about others. It’s kind of interesting those don’t bother me much anymore. Being told that I don’t know what I’m talking about when it comes to meds or symptoms or whatnot… well that one I’m still working on.

I’m about ready to throw my phone out a window. Well, maybe not quite yet. I just switched my number over to an extra phone Nathan had gotten a few months ago as a warranty replacement. It’s the same model as my old one, but hopefully it won’t have the same bricking problem that mine did. If I can survive a phone that’s soon to be 3 years old for another 1 1/2 years, I may see about switching to a different carrier entirely. I’m really tired of paying so much for Verizon. I’m also really tired of having to set up my phone over and over again.

To be honest, I’m just really tired in general. I don’t know that I’ve felt rested in several weeks regardless of how much sleep I’ve gotten. It also doesn’t seem to matter whether I take any sort of sleep aids either. At least if I take something I feel like I’ve slept even if I don’t feel much more rested.

And lastly I have a few ideas for several things I want to write but I just can’t get up the energy to write them. I just kind of stare at the computer screen or journal and after a few minutes (or longer, I don’t do well with keeping internal track of time) just wander away. My thoughts just aren’t organized enough for such things I guess.

Too much whinging here. Ah well, maybe I can go on and do something more productive.

Maybe Not So Crazy – Writing Idea

Mostly still not really edited but some revision to go with what the character wanted anyway. Still don’t know if I like the way the end went.

It had always been assumed I was crazy. My parents, friends, distant relatives, even me, we all knew I was crazy. Not the sort of crazy you see on street corners with people holding signs and talking to themselves and smelling really bad. Not like the crazy that rages against people and assumes the government is out to get them and that everyone is poisoning them. I don’t think I’m God or Jesus or a rock star or anything like that. But I have heard voices for as long as I can remember. I stopped talking back to them around middle-school. They never responded to me and never seemed to be talking about anything that was going on around me. They just… were. That’s all. I hardly notice them anymore to be honest. I stopped listening to them in high school. Well, mostly. I would listen to them at night sometimes, those times when I couldn’t fall asleep. It was my version of counting sheep. I’d listen to them ramble and soon would drift off to dream land and that was it.

Well, I guess that wasn’t entirely it. There are all the crazy, weird-ass dreams, too. Those don’t bother me much either. I do use them as jump off points for short stories. I’m told that I do talk when I’m dreaming. Loudly. My parents shunted me to the basement as soon as they could so they wouldn’t have to listen to me yammer anymore. That’s what they called it around me, but I’ve overheard them whispering about how scary it really is. Apparently I talk about assassination and plots and some sort of war that I don’t understand. Kind of fantasy stuff that only old school fairy tales are willing to hint at – Rumpelstiltskin sort of evil creatures. They’re really night-terrors actually. I don’t think of them that way anymore, but when I was little I did.

Really though, I’m not as crazy as I sound. I was a straight-A student all the way through school and college. I’ve got my bachelors in creative writing and have published most of my short stories and am in the midst of a novel. I have never been fired even though I have always worked at least one job from the age of fifteen and two or three jobs since college. Strangers at the bookstore and coffee shops I work at don’t know I’m different. My editor doesn’t know where all my crazy ideas come from. Publishers don’t care as long as my stuff sells.

So, I guess, in the long run it doesn’t really matter that I hear voices. According to psychiatrists that I’ve seen I’m not really diagnosable as anything because I lead a perfectly normal life. They’ve tried meds just to see if the voices will react but all that happened was that I slept. A lot. And felt really fuzzy in my head. My own internal voice was all jumbled and mumbling and couldn’t track at all (especially on Haldol, that stuff messes with you) but none of them fazed the voices. That was the part that really freaked out the psychiatrists. Nothing worked on the voices and I responded to the drugs the same way that a “normal” person would.

Thinking about that makes me feel even more crazy. A weird sort of crazy. The sort that even people who deal with crazies can’t figure out. That’s about when I stopped thinking about them at all. I wrote down my dreams when I woke up, went to the coffee shop, stocked books and answered the ridiculous questions customers came up with, went home to my cat and wrote then went to bed. The routine blurred the days and those blurred days dulled the voices.

Until about a year ago that is. Then they got loud. Really loud. Like I couldn’t move because of migraines and was having seizures and ended up in the hospital for so many tests that I am still paying for them even with decent insurance sort of loud. Again, the neurologists and psychiatrists were just as stumped as the previous psychiatrists were. According to the CT scans and MRIs and EKGs and sleep studies and whatever other tests they did my brain and body were perfectly normal. Absolutely normal. Like the sort of normal that is used in presentations that doesn’t really exist sort of normal. Well, there were some weird spots that would light up when I was asleep, but they’ve seen that in other people who have vivid dreams, so again, not really all that weird. Actually, I think they said that activity was absolutely textbook standard for night-terror brain activity. I think they were split on whether to use me as a case study, destroy all the evidence because it was too weirdly-normal or conclude that I was making everything up and just wanted a break from my dull life. I gave those last two a nicely worded letter telling them to go fuck themselves. Hindsight says it wasn’t the best idea but they pissed me off. Anyway, I sort of agree with the second group of docs. I basically think of my brain as so normal that it’s no longer normal but just on the other side of the dividing line between normal and freaking weird. Not schizophrenic. Not bipolar. Not depressed. No growths. No abscesses. Not even any concussions. Just weird. Basically the story of my life.

So I was crazy and weird but normal all at once. It probably should have freaked me out and led to some sort of breakdown at least sometime in my life. But that’s just not how I roll. Probably because my brain is too weirdly normal to accommodate such a normal response to so many weird things. Which sucks by the way.

I got out of the hospital after about a week when everything stopped. Just stopped. Migraine gone. Seizures none-existent. Voices missing. I never thought I’d say it but I was suddenly very lonely.

That lasted for about three days.

Then they started up again. Only this time they were aware. That’s the only way I can describe it. They started talking about what I was seeing and hearing and even feeling. They were violently loud the first hour then it was like a volume knob was dialed back. Not on my side, but on theirs. I don’t know how to say why that’s how it was, but I just know that my brain wasn’t capable of dialing anything down at that point. I was back in the fetal position and wishing I could find my way into a nice medication induced coma again. After a day or so to recover from that hour of arguing and my name being yelled back and forth, oh yeah, I forgot to mention that they knew my name, didn’t I? Well, they knew my name and they were saying it for the first time since I can remember, and they seemed to be arguing over what to do about me. Like whether to kidnap me or kill me sort of what to do with me. Awesome. That’s not disturbing or anything.

After the volume got dialed back and I more or less recovered from the blast of argument I still heard voices, but it seemed like they were only saying things that they wanted me to hear. I wasn’t hearing just random crap anymore, but intentional stuff. There were even times when they seemed to be able to blur the words, sort of like if you’re at the beach trying to listen to someone talking twenty feet away but the waves and wind are too loud to hear more than that they are saying words in what is most likely a language you understand.

While there were fewer voices overall, I finally figured out that there were two groups, one wanted to kill me, the other kidnap me and both were trying to figure out how to do it without the other knowing. Or me.

I already knew I was crazy. That was never in question. But now… now I was edging toward the sort of paranoid crazy that the people on street corners shout about. People were after me. They wanted to hurt me. Only they were still all in my head. It’s really hard to ignore voices that talk about how you need to die. I tried, I really did, but there’s only so much I’m capable of, even with my supernaturally normal brain.

Then there came the voice that started talking to me. Well, there were two eventually. One guy, one lady. They seemed to think I should know them and they started talking about how they were sending some people out to rescue me and just to wait and I’ll be back home and some other bizarre stuff. I initially ignored them. Then I protested that I was home, that I didn’t need to be rescued. I tried asking them what in the world they were going on about. They told me. I think. But it was more conspiracy theory stuff only they claimed to be from some alternate reality. Yeah, I stopped listening at that point. Like I said, conspiracy theory crap. And we had already established that I am crazy. Was crazy. I was crazy. I’m pretty sure I still am. Maybe I’m in an asylum somewhere and just don’t realize it. Perhaps it’s better not to know for certain. I had always assumed the old saying was true, “Only crazy people don’t question their sanity” or however it goes.

One year. One whole year spent spiraling further and further into the real crazy realm. Fun times. I have a lot more sympathy for the dudes on street corners now.

So yeah, I stopped wondering about conspiracy theories around the same time that two incredibly beautiful/handsome/oh my, can I bang you now, guys show up at my apartment and try to tell me that I need to leave with them right away before I get murdered. I don’t know why but I invited them in for tea instead of running off with them. Maybe I was hoping for some action, it had been a while after all. Instead they drank tea with me, tried to convince me I’m some sort of inhuman creature called Sidhe or Fae or whatever. I didn’t believe them, stopped listening and was trying to figure out the best way to kick the pranksters out on their asses when they killed a man.

To be fair he did sort of have it coming. A man jumping through a window with a lot of wicked looking knives probably doesn’t want to sit down for a cup of tea. Two of those knives would have impaled themselves in my chest had one of my actually invited in guests not knocked me out of my chair while his buddy wrestled the other dude into my kitchen. Which he spent the better part of three hours cleaning up afterward. Or so I’m told. I spent most of those three hours plus another twelve in my bathroom throwing up every meal I’ve ever had. While my tea guests/rescuers slept somewhere out front, I slept in my bathtub clutching my cat. I think I slept. I’m assuming they slept. I don’t actually know. The next morning they were still in my apartment and insisted I leave with them. I refused at first, but then they pointed out the daggers that were still embedded in the wall and said something about more killers on their way and that I was lucky and yadda yadda yadda. I didn’t argue much more. I’m sure they disagree with my point there. They didn’t want me to bring my cat, Snickers. I refused to leave without him. Made sense to me at the time. I didn’t want to come home to find him dead waiting in front of the door. They complained, something about cats being a massive nuisance and not welcome where we were going. They relented after I told them they could go fuck themselves if they thought I was leaving without my cat. Apparently that’s my fall back when I’m pissed. I need to come up with something else more creative to say.

Three days and a lot of miles later we ended up in BFE (that means butt-fuck Egypt, just in case you were wondering) nowhere Pennsylvania and hung out there for days. I didn’t know what we were waiting for. They kept saying we’re waiting for the right moon or something, but I didn’t really understand why and they said they can’t tell me why until I see it for myself.

On the plus side I haven’t heard much in the way of voices in my head since they showed up. Oh, the occasional thing from the lady and man that keep trying to tell me that they’re so glad I’m on my way “home”. On the bad side I recognized both these guys voices when they asked to come in to my home. I forgot to mention that, hadn’t I? That was probably why I invited them in for tea. Why shouldn’t I? My voices materialized in the form of some of the most handsome guys I’ve ever seen, may as well take advantage of the eye candy before I get hauled away to the funny farm. In this case they were the ones that did the hauling rather than the police like I had expected.

You know, I’m sure you’re as confused as I am, well was. Let’s go back a bit. A little more detail would probably be good. It’s not like I don’t have time. It seems like all I’ve got is time.

So, from the beginning. Maybe not the very beginning. That’d be too boring. Let’s start with the day that I met my two rescuers, captors, whatever. The day that I found out I’m a Changeling and the daughter of ambassadors for the Seelie Court to the Unseelie Court. The day I found out I’m either crazy as a loon or never was crazy. Man, do I wish I was still crazy. That’d be so much easier than the other. I really hope I’m locked away somewhere, else this is going to be the most unbelievable thing ever. So here goes, story time.

Not so long ago a crazy lady was startled from her manuscript by three loud knocks on her front door…