The book club is quietly growing – quietly because you were all far too mute on the Facebook page! Rebels are not reticent… The book of the month for February was Leaves from the Fig Tree by Diana Duff. The editor of the Sandton journal here in Johannesburg described it as 'a beautifully written memoir … with elegant prose, witty repartee and a sprinkling of Irish charm … her unusual and fascinating life … is an absolute dream to read … readers will find themselves so wrapped up in the adventures, that when Duff finds her very own place in the African sun and bids them farewell, it seems far too soon.' Homemade Sin by V. Mark Covington – a sparkling and originally tale, packed with humour and fascinating characters was Book of the Month in March. Every member also received a copy of Heavenly Pleasure, one of Mark's earlier novels, courtesy of Mark. April's Book of the Month was The Gates of Hell by Caroline Addenbrooke, a glorious evocation of Portugal and Africa in the sixteenth century, with an interweaving of adventure, legend and romance. Darts of Deceit by Wilf Nussey will be the Book of the Month in May – an all too possible scenario of international skulduggery, with terrifying consequences for Africa. Winners of the Antonia Banderas and Shakira gift packs were Zimangazenkosi Mthimkuku and Kathy Strehler. Jerry Bell was the winner of the 'Stinky is My Muse' muse T-shirt, generously offered by Mark Covington. The winner of the April prize of Antonio Banderas 'Blue Seduction' gift pack will be announced on 30th April. We are investigating ways of making prizes available in the USA, England, New Zealand and elsewhere. At present we are only able to send them to members in South Africa. New members may join by signing up via the website www.rebelepublishers.com or on the Facebook page.
As promised, all the initial submissions (synopsis, plus two or three chapters) have been read and the authors contacted. There are still a few complete manuscripts in the pending file; we know it is hard if you are one of those waiting for a yay or nay – we're nearly there, honest! As the quota for 2012 is just about full, it is unlikely we will be making offers to publish until later in the year. We need to devote time and attention to the excellent forthcoming books already accepted. However – we would hate to miss The Book of the Year, so please do continue to submit to us. And remember to attach the synopsis and accompanying chapters, rather than embed them in the body of your covering letter. Sadly, rejections are a part of an author's journey. Be heartened – there is invariably a publisher 'out there' somewhere for your work. We would like it to be Rebel e.
1. Madeline L'Engle's book, A Wrinkle in Time, was turned down 29 times before she found a publisher. 2. C.S. Lewis received over 800 rejections before he sold a single piece of writing. 3. Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind was rejected by 25 publishers. 4. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance was rejected 121 times. 5. Johathan Livingston Seagull was rejected 40 times. 6. Louis L'Amour was rejected over 200 times before he sold any of his writing. 7. The San Francisco Examiner turned down Rudyard Kipling's submission in 1889 with the note, "I am sorry, Mr. Kipling, but you just do not know how to use the English language." 8. An editor once told F. Scott Fitzgerald, "You'd have a decent book if you'd get rid of that Gatsby Character." 9. The Dr. Seuss book, And to Think I Saw it on Mulberry Street, was rejected for being "too different from other juveniles on the market to warrant selling." 10. George Orwell's Animal Farm was rejected with the comment, "It's impossible to sell animal stories in the USA." 11. The manuscript for The Diary of Anne Frank received the editorial comment, "This girl doesn't, it seems to me, have a special perception or feeling which would lift that book above the curiosity level."
How about this for the best sunset you have ever seen? They photo was taken by David Bullard, author of the outrageous Out to Lunch series. The perfect accompaniment to sundowners. Time to bring out the paintbrushes?
So which of you does NOT go to bed with a Kindle, Nook or other e-reader? The following random headlines in the trade press describe a very obvious trend:
- Amazon ups UK e-book sales fivefoldThe downside of this reading revolution is that many book retailers are not only feeling the pinch, but are closing in droves. Maybe it is time for them to address the issue by selling e-books from within their premises?
- There's a bright spot for e-book growth: Around 7 to 12 months after buying their first e-book, 72 percent of power buyers switch over to e-books exclusively. - Quercus Reports 270% December e-book sales growth - B&N 'developing partnership' with Waterstones over Nook. - Toshiba Outlines Ebook Plans
I demand a salary commiserate with my extensive experience. I have lurnt Word Perfect 6.0 computor and spreadsheet progroms. Received a plague for Salesperson of the Year. Reason for leaving last job: maturity leave. Am a perfectionist and rarely if if ever forget details. As indicted, I have over five years of analyzing investments.
Darts of Deceit, Homemade Sin and The Memory of Water were released in December and have been receiving critical acclaim. Flashbyte, by Cat Connor, fourth in the –byte series, was released in March.
Basha, Baby by Lee Marcus; The Dame's Juggler by P.C. Feller; Eyes, Lies, Analyse by Clifford Coetzee; Letters from the Ministry by Philip Donnelly; Teammates by Ray Wenck; One Hot Summer by Ian Barker, author of Fallen Star; The Hidden Third by Wilf Nussey, author of Darts of Deceit; with Sins of the Father, Highland Creek and Mighty Mighty in the wings. To name but a few …
• The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery – compulsive and wonderful writing. Fifteen on the Yum Factor Scale – which has a maximum of five stars. • Christmas at Tiffany's by Karen Swan - so-called chick lit (isn't that a demeaning phrase?) but better written and better researched than anything I have read before in this much-maligned genre and many others. It is also peopled with fabulous characters and dialogue. Definitely twelve on the YFS. • Across the River and Into the Trees by Ernest Hemingway – Venice was the inspiration for this novel and caused Hemingway to be called 'the most important author since Shakespeare'. Doesn't need a score on the YFS. Hemingway can't… but if Ms Barbery and Ms Swan would like to submit future manuscripts to Rebel e, we'd love to hear from them!
Forever and Ever, Amen" first appeared in 2005 in the Spirit House chapbook. Proceeds from that anthology went to charities working with children who survived the Boxing Day tsunami and the author requests that readers of this ezine consider making a donation to Save the Children, the International Red Cross or other disaster relief organization that is still dealing with the aftermath of that devastating event.We have more cold days in Hell than you might think. That's because Hell – and I came here long before anyone called it that – is neither a flaming pit nor some imaginary state of being. It is in Idaho. Nor is it nearly as crowded as widely believed. Most souls who come here stay only briefly. Put your mind at ease: No matter what you've done in your life, you are almost certainly going to Paradise. That's why all of us in the city took note of new arrivals. There was one in particular that none of us would forget, although I think he has forgotten us. It was after the invention of television but before that of personal computers when he came through the gate. "Hello? … Hello?" he called out to everyone he met as he crossed the threshold into our decrepit walled city. We damned souls, as is our nature, ignored him. "Is this where I'm supposed to be? Is there a place to stay around here? Hello?" Looking out of my curtainless, glassless, second-floor window, I resisted the urge to help the young East Asian man, and wondered why I still felt that urge. It wasn't long, though, before a rape gang formed. Some men were dressed as I was, in Mesopotamian kaftans. Others were dressed like the new arrival – in shirts and trousers. And men of every place and time in between joined the lust-filled, hate-filled crowd. They moved in phalanxes down the narrow, dusty streets from all directions as the gates swung closed behind the newcomer. Even if I alone could have helped him, what would have been the point? I'm one of the few who have been damned for eternity. Over the past few decades, as Americans began arriving in increasing numbers, they introduced us to such terms as "plea bargaining," "parole" and "time off for good behavior". We just laughed, we forever damned. Who knows? Maybe the One True Judge laughed too. It quickly came clear that the newcomer didn't need any help. He took a fighting stance as the vanguard closed in, exhaled, inhaled, and let out a war cry that still echoes in my memory. He jumped higher in the air than I thought anyone could, until his feet were at eye level. The first attacker got a kick in the nose at such an angle that pain must have spider-webbed through his entire body. Before that attacker had time to register pain, though, the man next to him received the same punishment from the other foot. The newcomer landed on those feet – which I noticed were sandaled rather than shod – and his fists and elbows became even more effective weapons than his feet – and his feet would still target the occasional throat, diaphragm or gonad. I estimate there were fifty men approaching from three directions. He disabled the first twelve. The thirteenth turned and ran, then the mob retreated faster than it attacked. He looked sharply in each direction to ensure that the threat had passed. As he looked up, he locked eyes with me. Was he warning me to stay where I was? Flashing anger that I did nothing to help? Expressing gratitude that I didn't join in? I found the young man unreadable, but felt a surge of pride in his victory. And so I shuddered. I had no interest in the outcome. I simply didn't want to see an innocent man subjected to that. Then I realized, we're all damned here. None of us are innocent. So I didn't want to see anyone subjected to that. Twenty-five centuries here, and I still could feel for others. I shuddered. It was going to be a very long eternity. (Read More ...)