HOW TO HOLD OUT FOR THE BIG PAYOFF

for all of you regular readers (thanks, winnipeg!) who are just finally reaching this post after having diligently read through every post you'd missed over the past couple of weeks: i understand. and that statement of understanding isn't meant to come off as patronizing or condescending. i'm not secretly hurt and begrudging. (as regular readers, you know that i make no secret of grudges.) i really do understand. i do the same thing. i apologize, too, because i should have given you this tidbit on friday when i first received the "publishers lunch" email that made it known to me; but, alas, that email sat unread in my inbox until today.

procrastination can be awful on the nerves, but i often wonder if the concomitant benefits aren't worth it. suddenly, from a molding pile of rote tasks that could have been dispensed with quickly in the moment -- and without much emotional strife -- you've produced a mountain of accomplishment and an invigorating (sometimes even motivating) sense of relief.* see? we really do understand each other. now that that's settled:

Borders has come up with a modest answer to Barnes & Noble's new PubIt and Amazon's established DTP program, announcing "Borders - Get Published" in association with start-up BookBrewer.com. The emphasis of the service is turning blogs into salable ebooks quickly and easily, though they charge a set-up fee and take 25 percent of the proceeds. (In this respect the service looks similar to plethora of sites that let you turn RSS feeds into mobile phone apps.) But they say it works for regular manuscripts as well.

so there. it's happening, and something like kind of how i said it had been/was/would. soon you'll be able to buy my book.

or not, because at the same time i was catching up on email i was reading a review of james franco's short story collection, palo alto, at salon.com. salon's franco coverage is as consistent and doting as the times' is of portland. still, the reviewer was unexpectedly praising. i've only read the story that got printed in esquire and didn't think much of it. james franco got a book deal because he's famous -- and pretty, a characteristic that the review uses to open onto a description of franco's special place in the contemporary writing world.

one of the reviewer's statements was, however, particularly intriguing. "'Palo Alto' is," he writes, "sad, sensitive, [and] concerned at all times with its authenticity and uncontaminated by plot (even, at times, incident)."

i won't belabor an explanation of my conclusion because, well, we have an understanding, you and i. suffice it to say that if prettiness and self-supporting authenticity are all it takes to have your book published by a major house, then screw the ebooks. i'm holding out for a print deal.

update: this article in the new yorker disagrees. a link to it arrived to me in an email on 10/8. i put off reading it until this afternoon.