I read a lot in December.  Sadly, much of it wasn’t memorable.  I checked my calendar (where I record what I read) to see if I had missed anything for the list—and was startled to see books that I barely remembered reading one week later.

I’m also doing some very dishy research, so I’m reading a lot of salacious downmarket books from the 1950s, 60s and 70s.  I’ve about had it with exclamation points!Yes! Honestly! That’s true! I do feel like a gossip maven, even though everyone I have gossip about is dead…

Here are the few memorable books I read in December.

December, 2009

Bray, Libba, A Great and Terrible Beauty, Delacorte, 2003.  Oh, how times change.  I put off reading this book a dozen times because the early back cover copy did not mention the supernatural.  In fact, I kept confusing the book with the Luxe series, partly because of the cover.

I missed a marvelous treat.  This is a gothic novel, the good old-fashioned kind.  Only without the dark brooding hero. Gemma Doyle grows up in India, but when her mother gets murdered, Gemma moves to England and goes to a boarding school that makes Hogwarts look gimicky.  Wonderful scary stuff, much of it to do with trust (but isn’t that what all Gothics are about?).  Highly recommended.

Brenner, Marie, “Anatomy of a Siege,” Vanity Fair, November, 2009.  A long article about the terrorist take-over of the Mumbai hotels in 2008, which is also called India’s 9/11.  Brenner also deals with the aftermath—what happened in Indian culture because of those events.  Terrible stuff and oddly fascinating because of the cultural differences between the U.S. and India.

There were, of course, pockets of heroism—things we didn’t hear as this siege occurred.  Some amazing quick-thinking people managed to save many lives.  Fascinating, frightening stuff, about the new century that we all live in.

Buckley, Christopher, Losing Mum and Pup, Kindle edition, 2009.  Christopher Buckley is the son of William F. Buckley.  Christopher is also a wonderful satirist, whose fiction I’ve enjoyed immensely.  I also liked his father’s spy novels as well as his columns, even though William F. and I almost never agreed.

I read an excerpt of this book in Vanity Fair, and realized I had to read the entire thing.  Buckley’s parents were famous—both of them. His mother was a famous socialite, and his father was, of course, William F.  This book isn’t so much about them as it is about losing our parents.  Christopher’s died within a year of each other, a harrowing year for him, since he was an only child.

His writing is conflicted and honest.  His mother sounded a lot like mine—a woman who never could quite tell the truth about anything.  Only Christopher figured that out about his mother at a young age; I didn’t figure that out about mine until I was in my thirties.  (He says this tendency of hers inspired him to write fiction.  Hm, wonder if that happened to me as well.) It’s the first time I’d ever encountered anyone else with a mother who had a loose relationship with the truth, and that part of the book alone was spellbinding for me.

But on the merits and not on the personal side, this book is very well done.  Heartbreaking and funny.  The e-mails he sent out during one of his father’s illnesses were wonderful.  Since I’ve been getting a lot of e-mail updates lately about sick close friends, I’m (unfortunately) gaining an appreciation for the form, and Buckley’s were interesting, sad, frightened, and funny.

If you’ve ever lost someone close—or even if you haven’t—this is the book for you.

Cach, Lisa, “Puddings, Pastries, and Thou,” Wish List, Leisure, 2003.  I have no idea where I got this anthology, which also features Lisa Kleypas, Claudia Dain, and Lynsay Sands, but I read it for two reasons: First, I’m still puttering through my Kleypas binge, and second, I always read a Christmas romance anthology over the holidays.

I have to say, though, that I really hated the design of this book.  It doesn’t do what romance anthologies (heck, all anthologies) should, which is point you to the authors’ other work.  In fact, the stories themselves have no byline.  You have to look at the table of contents to see who wrote what.

The Cach story was a nice surprise.  I’ve probably read two dozen such anthologies over the years and the stories are often sweet but predictable.  This one wasn’t predictable.  I’ve discovered Mary Balogh through such an anthology, and now I’ll seek out other work by Cach.

This is a witty story of a down-and-out woman whose immediate family was dead and who depends on the kindness of her distant relations.  Only they stuck her with an elderly woman who had either dementia or Alzeheimers (of course, the story doesn’t say since it’s set in Regency England).  She was the 24/7 caretaker, and she barely had time for herself. She also barely got enough to eat.

When the story begins, our heroine Vivian has just moved in with another set of distant relatives, and must contend with a jealous 17-year-old who is about to debut. I’m all set for a Mean Girls story—the 17-year-old doesn’t want to share her glory days with a lesser cousin—but the story doesn’t work that way.

The 17-year-old does set Vivian up with a seemingly undesirably hero, who is a bad influence not because he’s a rake or an alcoholic, but because…well, let me simply say that it has to do with morals that no longer exist.  He had done something honorable in our world, but dishonorable in theirs.

The entire story centers around the feasts over the holiday, and Cach delineates them with loving care.  It’s pretty clear that Vivian will go from being a bony distant relation to a fat lord’s wife, and we’re cheering for her the whole way.

And the story made me hungry for pastries. Enough said.

Esquire Staff, “The Language of Men,” Esquire, November, 2009.  An utterly fun series of articles about words—particularly words men should and shouldn’t use.  The best part is “The Esquire Lexicon: Common Words to Use More Often, Words to Discard And Suggested Usage” which includes things like “sweet” about which they say “Only when talking about food.” (It also comes with a chart: Biblical Figures Who Can Be Invoked as “Sweet” If Need Be.) Or “bro” about which they say simply, “No.”  The list of profanity alternatives is also fun, but not nearly creative enough, imho.  Click the link above and have a good laugh. (In fact, you can click the link on most if not all of the mentioned articles in the Recommended Reading sections of my blog and find the article.)

Hogan, Michael, “Our Man Dominick,” Vanity Fair, November, 2009.  A tribute to Vanity Fair’s late columnist, Dominick Dunne, who died in August.  I loved Dunne’s work and was sorry to hear about his death.  This tribute is both heartfelt and honest, talking about the man that the editors of the magazine worked with for two decades.

Dunne himself was amazing.  He wrote six novels, a few nonfiction books, and hundreds of articles for Vanity Fair including 67 monthly diary enteries (or columns) in the eight years after he had been diagnosed with the cancer that eventually killed him which was, as Hogan says, “a remarkable feat for a man in his 70s and 80s writing for a magazine that comes out only twelve times per year.”

Dunne didn’t even begin writing until he had a great personal and public collapse as a Hollywood producer at the age of 50.  He was just getting his feet underneath him when his daughter Dominique was murdered.  He had been searching for justice ever since.

Take a peek at this article for a fascinating glimpse of a working writer, and an odd one in that Dunne didn’t mind celebrity. In fact, he courted it.  Amazing how many fascinating influential people we lost in 2008.  Dunne was one of them.

Holden, Anthony, Behind The Oscar: The Secret History of the Academy Awards, 1993.  This book is obviously dated—it’s nearly 20 years old!—and I was reading it as research for another project.  On the mid-1980s to the early 1990s, it’s unreliable, particularly when Holden talks about the way that Spielberg will always be too tainted to win an Oscar, and how Julia Roberts is a passing fad.  But on the history of the Oscars itself, this book is marvelous fun.  He covers the voting scandals from the awards’ 1920s inception to the modern era, and the 1930s stuff is particularly nasty fun.  Worth picking up if you can find an old copy.  Ignore his predictions and read about the past.

Kamp, David, “Norman Rockwell’s American Dream,” Vanity Fair, November 2009.  Wow, did I learn a lot about Norman Rockwell while reading this article.  I’ve always liked Rockwell, something my “cultured” friends tried to make me ashamed of.  Kamp explains why Rockwell was considered “lowbrow” and how that’s changing.  But even more importantly, he talks about what makes Rockwell’s work so striking.

However, in that a picture is worth 1000 words category, what makes this article work are the paintings side by side with the photographic studies he used to help him paint the paintings.  The first that you see, After the Prom, stopped me cold.  The photograph that he took is very, very similar to the painting—the models he used greatly resemble the painted figures and they’re in a similar position.  But the painting is alive.  It just jumps off the page, where the photograph is static and clearly posed.

I showed this to Dean and what he said as he looked at it, as stunned as I was, was, “The painting tells a story.”  Indeed it does.  And more than that, the figures aren’t figures. They’re characters in that story, with an agenda, and opinions, and goals.  Amazing, amazing work, which makes me want to buy the Rockwell books he discusses in the article—which has to be part of the point.

Mockenhaupt, Brian, “We’ve Seen The Future And It’s Unmanned,” Esquire, November 2009.  A behind-the-scenes look at unmanned drones that are doing much of the fighting for us in Afghanistan and Pakistan.  Not a political article at all—just informational, and utterly fascinating.  It reminds me of “Ender’s Game,” Orson Scott Card’s award-winning short story, first published in Omni nearly thirty years ago.  For once, science fiction did predict the future—and it’s…well…wow.

Putney, Mary Jo, Loving a Lost Lord, Kensington, 2009.  Mary Jo Putney is back, writing straight historicals.  She has an interesting set of four men who are not your typical Regency heroes.  She starts with Adam, who suffers amnesia in a shipping accident.  This is physiologically correct amnesia—it’s temporary, and it slowly eases in the proper manner—which makes it all that much more interesting.  My only quibbles with the novel (MJ!) is that the ship was named Enterprise and our hero has a valet named Wharf.  As a Star Trek writer, this threw me out of the story every time. But most folks will appreciate the homage, if they catch it at all.  Pick it up before the next in the series appears in the spring.

Stewart, James B., “Eight Days,” The New Yorker, September 21, 2009.  It’s not often that a real life event that I’m reading about, an event that I’ve lived through, scares the living daylights out of me.  But this article, which details the week in September of 2008 during which Bernanke, Paulson & Geithner among others worked to prevent a global financial collapse, scared the bejesus out of me.

I knew at the time that a lot was happening behind the scenes.  I also knew that almost everyone who was reporting this story knew nothing about a) history or b) finances, so much of what they said was utterly clueless, based on the tidbits coming out of Treasury.  But I knew things were bad.  We all knew things were bad.  I just didn’t know how bad.

The article goes through that time detail by detail, fact by fact, in a magazine known for its factcheckers.  (Unlike so many others these days.) And I read with horror—and a great appreciation for the attempt at saving things.  Time will tell if they were truly successful, but it seems like they were.

The other thing that struck me as I read this—and has been striking me over and over in the past year—is an assumption of mine that’s finally been debunked.  For some reason, I expected that “adults,” meaning the people in charge, knew something I didn’t know.  That assumption made sense when I was 16.  In fact, it was true then.  But it started to get shaken when Bill Clinton was elected, got rocked when George W. Bush was president, and got shattered when Barack Obama—who is two years younger than I am—got elected.  I know what I don’t know now.  I know he doesn’t know it either.  And neither does Sonya Sotomayor, who just joined the Supreme Court.  In her photos from high school and college, she has the same hairdo I had at that time.  Because we’re the same age.   I have finally, finally realized that we’re all guessing and doing our best.  This article simply reinforces that.  (And a part of me wants my old assumption back.  Now.)

The next book in the Diving universe, featuring Boss, just sold.  The book, City of Ruins, follows Boss’s escapades a few years later.  Pyr is giving the books tons of support.  Here’s editor Lou Anders’ blog on the deal.

Let me say, guys, I couldn’t have done this without you.  You supported Diving, reviewed it, voted for it in the Reader’s Choice awards before it was published, and bought copies quickly when it came out. Thank you, thank you, thank you.  I hope you’ll like the next one.  I’m antsy to finish it–and all the related novellas that will come with it.

Artwork donated by Pati Nagle.

The Freelancer’s Survival Guide: Professional Courtesy

Kristine Kathryn Rusch

Last week’s post on “Surviving Someone Else’s Jealousy” went viral.  I got more e-mail than I’ve ever gotten on a single Freelancer’s Guide post, and more people tweeted, blogged, or commented on various social networking sites than ever had before.

I had no idea how many of you had suffered from someone else’s toxic emotions in the pursuit of your dreams.  I suggest you look at the comments on last week’s and on Professional Jealousy from the week before.  Lots of good stuff there.

Mixed among the e-mails were several sympathetic e-mails—virtual hugs—for which I thank you very much.  But honestly, folks, I’m okay.  The examples I wrote about, while disturbing to remember, are long in the past.  Yes, occasionally, I have more trouble with toxic personalities, but as I learned last week, we all have that kind of problem if we’re doing something that we love. Which is just sad—not for us, because we’re living fully—but for those jealous rage-filled people out there, who don’t understand that they need to take care of themselves first.

Posts like last week’s make me nervous when I write them because they talk about the negative sides of the business.  More than one e-mail writer confessed that they had no idea how difficult things could get with friends, family, and even strangers.  A few of those e-mail writers wondered if the price of freelancing—of succeeding at what you love—is worth it.

Absolutely.  I don’t want to do anything else.  In fact, I can’t imagine doing anything else.  I’m saving a post for the very end of this Guide on the benefits of freelancing.  (If folks have benefits they want me to mention, send me an e-mail marked “Benefits of Freelancing,” along with the benefit and permission to use your name in the Guide.)  Believe me, there are a lot of benefits.  One of them is the ability to do something like this Guide just because I felt the time was right, not because someone told me to or I had to or because someone thought I was the person for the job.  Nope.  I got the idea and did it when I felt like it, working at all hours of the day, as I could fit it in—sometimes in the early morning (bleh), sometimes late at night, and sometimes pushing up against my own personal deadline.  You guys—and the recession—have gotten me to write a book I’d been thinking about for years, but had never committed to.  And I’m quite happy with the interactivity because without it, I wouldn’t have nearly 120,000 words of Guide so far.

Nor would I have some of the topics I’ve covered.  Like this week’s topic, Professional Courtesy.  I got several letters this week, complaining about the boorish behavior of professionals.  All of the professionals discussed in the e-mails were professional writers, and at first, I thought of starting a new book when this one was done, called Etiquette For Writers.  (Although I’m not sure I should be the Miss Manners of the Literary Set, particularly when I emitted an involuntary “f*ck you!” at a friend this weekend in response to a comment about my age.  [Granted, he is a friend, so he’s used to me.  He said humbly, “Well, you know I mean it,” in the tone someone else would use to say, “Well, you know I didn’t mean it,” and we all laughed and the conversation went on from there.])

As I pondered this Etiquette For Writers idea, I got more and more e-mails about terrible behavior by professionals.  (All writers.)  I had experienced some awful behavior by musicians and actors, so for a while I wondered if the bad behavior belonged only to people who make their living as artists.

Then, on Dean’s (writer Dean Wesley Smith’s) blog, writers started discussing the way that agents—people they hired!—had treated them, and I made a single post about bad behavior involving cell phones among working professionals everywhere.  That’s when I remembered grumping a few years back about sending gifts to friends and never receiving an acknowledgement or a thank-you.  (One friend actually criticized the gift!)  It took a four-year-old whose father had to dial the phone to remind me what courtesy was like; she was so thrilled with her gift that she had to tell me now, and her response pleased me to no end.

Dean teases me about being too polite (despite the occasional involuntary f*ck you), especially when dealing with people I don’t know.  I’m “yessir-ing” and “no-ma’am-ing” and “please” and “thank you” and “would you mind?” and “excuse me” and smiling politely even when I want to rip someone’s head off.  When I’m startled, I revert to polite.

Which is a good response, considering my potty mouth. (I was startled this weekend, but relaxed and among friends, hence the blue outburst.)

We all know we should be polite to others, particularly in a business situation.  But let me share with you some of the bad behavior I’ve heard about this past week as well as some things I’ve experienced.  I’ll start with writers, then move to other professions.  Then we’ll talk a bit about obligations.

1. An unpublished writer bought a published novel written by a friend.  The unpublished writer was excited to buy the friend’s book, complimented her on it, and had her sign it. The friend proceeded to badmouth her own book—talking about the problems she still had with it, the things she should have done, the things her editor should have done, the problems with the sales department, and more.  The writer thinks of that every time she looks at the book, and probably will not buy any more books by the friend because the experience so soured her.

2. I was signing books with New York Times bestselling author.  A fan, clearly excited to meet NYT author, brought in her entire collection of said author’s work.  The author signed the books, but loudly demanded to know why anyone would want her books defaced like that. “What’s the point?” NYT author demanded.  “Proof that you met me so you can show off to your little friends?”  The author continued along those lines—not in a humorous way, but in a very mean way—and the fan left.  In tears.

3.  I got five e-mails—five!—in which the e-mail writers recounted stories like the ones above.  Each e-mail mentioned that the fan had told the published writer how much the fan had liked the work; each time the published writer had criticized the work or the publishing company or the bookstore where the event was being held.  And each e-mail letter complained that the published writer had never once said thank you.  Not once.

4. My favorite bookstore pet peeve: I get to the checkout counter with my half dozen books (try to get me out of a bookstore with fewer than six—I dare you), and the employee behind the cash register—or worse!—the bookstore’s owner tells me that the books I’m buying aren’t any good. Usually the employee/owner hasn’t read the books.  Often the employee/owner sniffs and says something like, “Since you’re buying so many, maybe you’d like a really good book” (in a tone that suggests my choices were substandard).  This, by the way, is different from “Do you like that author? I want to try his books,” which just shows interest.

5. My second bookstore pet peeve, which used to be a general retail pet peeve until the rise of online ordering (especially for music):  Being told in the same snobby tone as the examples above that “we don’t carry that product.”  Now I’m okay with a place not carrying everything, but in bookstores you’ll hear this as “We don’t carry <sniff> romance or <snarf> science fiction.”  I recently encountered this attitude at a pet store, when I went to buy cat food because my usual venue was closed. I was told in no uncertain terms that I do not love my cats because of the food I feed them (recommended by my vet, btw—capitalist dog that he is).  I ran from that pet store, and have not entered it since.  (Since this was the store’s owner who uttered that “you clearly don’t love your cats” line, I also actively discourage friends from going there as well.)

6. I was accompanying a friend as her eyes and ears while she prepared for major surgery.  When she started questioning her surgeon about the procedure, he told her she wasn’t smart enough to understand everything he had to do.  I stopped him, asked a few more clarifying questions, and he got angry at me for questioning him.  We had other problems with this man as the days progressed. I urged her to get a second opinion—and to find another surgeon. She didn’t.  She came out just fine (thank heavens).  But no degree of expertise should allow anyone to treat a patient/client/customer like he treated her.  (And we’ll not discuss the things he said to me while she was being anesthetized.)

I could go on and on and on.  I’d like to say that this is an American problem only—and honestly, our culture has become very, very coarse in the past twenty years.  But I’ve encountered rude behavior from professionals everywhere except (dare I say it?) Canada.  Although come to think of it, the first rude writer I ever met was a famous Canadian literary writer (who has also been on the New York Times list) who spoke to my college creative writing class.  We spent a week preparing for her visit, reading her work, and preparing questions.  Then she arrived, gave a short talk, and proceeded to insult us all by saying that since none of us would ever be published, we weren’t worth her time.  Since we weren’t worth her time, she wasn’t going to take questions.  I haven’t bought her little books now for 30 years because of that rude and condescending afternoon.

So…am I saying be polite at all times?

No.  That would be hypocritical of me.  Generally speaking, I’m not polite.  I’m blunt and foul-mouthed, particularly among people who know me.  I don’t suffer fools very well (and certainly not gladly), and I have been known to take someone apart piece by tiny piece when I get irritated.

But I try to be polite most of the time, partly because I have been on the other side of the bad behavior.  When someone tells me they like a book I’ve written, I thank them.  When they have a question about my work, I try my best to answer it.  When they scream at me in public (see last week’s piece), I do my best not to scream back.

Let’s talk about fans/readers/clients/patients for a moment.

Without them—oh, freelancer—you are nothing.  If you do not have a readership, then you won’t last long as a professional writer.  If you don’t have clients, then you won’t make it as a lawyer.  If you don’t have patients, you’re not a doctor.

Granted, that surgeon I mentioned above never got his patients directly like a family practice doctor does.  If you see that surgeon, you usually see him once or maybe twice, and always at the recommendation of another doctor.  Believe me when I tell you that I reported that surgeon to all the doctors I know who recommended him, and all of them were shocked at his behavior.  I don’t know if I had a negative impact on his recommendation rate, but I like to think I did.

Be as courteous as you can.  I’ve had fans go through my books line by line, telling me what’s wrong with them, and then buy another book and have me sign it. If I had gotten defensive at those critiques (and trust me, I was feeling defensive, I just didn’t express it), the readers wouldn’t have purchased another book.  Do I want fans like that? Of course I do.  I’m a fan like that.  I won’t tell a favorite writer why I think she went wrong in her most recent book, but I will tell another fan and we’ll discuss the problems.  And then I’ll go out and buy the next book.  I’ll wager a lot of you are the same way.

Most of us just wouldn’t tell the writer how much we hated one of her efforts.  And that’s the only difference.

I can be very forgiving of fans, just like I can be forgiving of customers.  I went out of my way as a waitress and as a retail clerk to make sure that the customers were happy, even if the customers were drunk or rude or wrong.  That old adage, the customer is always right, is a good one to remember when you’re in public.

Of course, there are times to toss the adage.  The customer should not be abusive or violent.  Certain types of behavior should not get a pass, ever.

But mostly, what does it hurt you—the professional—to bite your lip? To be polite or just not say anything at all?  Writers, say thank you when someone compliments your work.  Bookstore owners, be thankful someone is buying your stock.  Lawyers and doctors, expect your clients to be a bit emotional for most are seeing you at a tough time in their lives.  A little empathy goes a long way.

Remember, though, that everyone has a bad day, and not everyone has social skills.  I think the reason so many of my examples this week were about writers is not just because I am a writer, but because writers usually don’t need social skills.  We sit in a room and make things up.  We interact with ourselves, our family, our friends, and our imaginary friends.  Sometimes we forget how to survive in the real world.

I think everyone should get a pass for the occasional rude remark.  If the behavior is continual, though, like that surgeon’s, then don’t go to that professional again.

If you’re a person who has poor social skills, figure out how to ameliorate the problem.  There are actual classes to shore up your public behavior, should you want to take them. Community colleges offer them as do regular colleges.  In my small town, our chamber of commerce has a once-a-year course in public relations.  Taking something like that might be worth your time.

If you’re like me—a person who can be polite some of the time, but not all of the time—figure out a way around the problem.  In most instances, I’m just fine.  But when I’m teaching a one- or two-week workshop, with long hours, I know I’ll relax and then my potty mouth will get the best of me.  So I warn my students ahead of time, and I apologize in advance.  Then I try my best to be on my best behavior.

A lot of people can’t be polite when they’re busy.  Politeness is the first thing out the window.  In that instance, I’d recommend hiring a receptionist, a secretary or a clerk—someone to handle the public while you’re handling the actual business.  (See my posts on employees first.) And if you can’t afford the help, then take classes.  Make an effort.  Learn how to put your best foot forward.

Here are a few tips to help you be courteous.

1. Never take your fan/reader/client/customer for granted.  Treat them with respect and maybe just a bit of awe.  After all, they’ve deemed you worthy of their time, trust and/or hard-earned dollars.  Honor that.

2. Say please and thank you.  I know, I sound like your mother.  Well, take those lessons to heart.  In response to a compliment, a simple thank you means a lot more than a critique of the work at hand.  Show some appreciation for the person who came into your store, ordered food off the menu you designed, or bought a book you wrote.  They didn’t have to do that, you know.  You’re not entitled to customers or nice comments.  You have to earn them, like everyone else.

3. Dress up. This goes for anyone who interacts with the public.  It’s better to be overdressed than underdressed.  As I  mentioned in an earlier blog post, I watch American Idol, and I use it as a learning tool.  One thing that continually shocks me is how many people claim that being a professional musician is their lifelong dream, yet these people show up in sloppy sweats, ratty blue jeans, and ill-fitting t-shirts.  One girl this year—who was chosen from the auditions to go to Hollywood Week—was incredibly poor (I mean horribly, awfully poor).  She managed to scrounge up $4 to buy a dress at the Dollar Store—and you could tell that purchase meant she went without food or gas or something else important.  She worked hard to look her best. Yet people with a lot more money looked like they had just gotten out of bed.  Most of these folks weren’t wearing their punk rocker costume. They just hadn’t bothered to clean up for this big opportunity.

If you work at home and don’t normally dress up, your “public” clothes will become a costume.  I have my jeans and ratty sweaters for at home, and my business attire for book signings or conventions, and my black-tie outfits for banquets.  When I wear the business attire or my black-tie outfits, I’m wearing something slightly unusual—and it serves as a reminder that I am out in public.  My costume, if you will, helps me be just a bit more formal than I would usually be.

4. If you have trouble being polite, smile and say very little. The smile is important so that folks don’t think you’re surly.  But put on your company face, and do the best you can.

5. Be respectful.  I think half the writer examples I read this week wouldn’t have occurred if the writer had taken a moment to view the person they were talking to with respect.  Success doesn’t give you a license to be rude.

6. Enlist a Rescuer. This may sound silly, but it’s important, especially if you have fans.  You’ll need someone to grab your arm and pull you out of a crowd.  I’ve done that for some famous writers back when I was editing.  Dean does it for me at my signings, and I do it for him at his.  Sometimes fans don’t know when to stop hogging your time.  A bookstore clerk will often hustle the fan along, but at conventions, no one will do that.  Your rescuer can get you out of a tight situation without insulting the well intentioned person who has backed you into a corner.

The other thing your rescuer can do is stop you from making a fool of yourself.  I have a look that I get when someone has crossed over this mental line that I have that goes from “nice” to “fool.”  (Usually that line gets crossed by some unforgivable [often bigoted] political remark.)  I’ve had half a dozen friends save the poor person who crossed my mental line by recognizing my look and getting me away from the person quickly.

Once I was at a dinner with a famous person whose politics are—shall we say politely—the opposite of mine. We had a business relationship, that I carefully kept out of the political arena for years.  But, as luck would have it, our dinner fell two days after a particularly hard-fought election.  And he launched into some horrible, unbearable diatribe filled with n-words and other such things.  My assistant, who was having dinner with us, grabbed my knee in the middle of that diatribe and while I thought of going for the steak knife and disemboweling this famous person, my assistant held me down and dug his fingers into my thigh until I was black-and-blue.  But I didn’t destroy a lucrative business relationship with my potty mouth and my politics—only because I had a rescuer at that table.  (Or rather the famous person had a rescuer.  Because had we been alone at that dinner, I might be in prison now.)

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that my post on surviving other people’s jealousy brought out this dark side of professionalism.  I think most of you who are being rude—and believe me, some of you are reading this blog—don’t realize that you are.  Figure out how to gain some self-awareness in this area.  Maybe even practice the things you’ll say when you go out in public.

It’s important.

Remember this: Professional courtesy brings repeat business. Rudeness will often destroy the relationship.  Granted, there are times when you don’t want to do business with that person ever again.  But usually, you do.  Be nice. Be polite. Be respectful.

Really, it’s not that hard.

Early on, as I did the Guide, I had no idea how to respond to a donation.  I didn’t know that I could simply hit “reply” on the PayPal notification to say thank you.  So I missed some of you.  Let me say thank you here and now.  And let me remind you that you’ll be getting an e-copy of the Guide when I’m done as another way of saying thanks.

I appreciate all the e-mails, comments, and donations.  You guys have made doing this Guide fun.  And I rarely look at nonfiction as fun any more. So thank you all.

“Freelancer Writer’s Survival Guide: Professional Courtesy” copyright 2010 by Kristine Kathryn Rusch.

…on Dean’s website. Read everything, including the comments. I mentioned this last week, but there are a lot more comments and 2 new blog posts this week. Good stuff all around. Check it out here.

Please check this out only if you’ve already read Diving into the Wreck. If you haven’t, what are you waiting for? <VBG>  The book club readers asked lots of great questions.  You can find them here.