Barnes & Noble’s Dirty Little Secret: Author Solutions and Nook Press

Theo Fenraven:

A writer has to be very careful these days. The sharks are always circling.

Originally posted on David Gaughran:

NookPressAuthorSolutionsNook Press – Barnes & Noble’s self-publishing platform – launched a selection of author services last October including editing, cover design, and (limited) print-on-demand.

Immediate speculation surrounded who exactly was providing these services, with many – including Nate Hoffelder, Passive Guy, and myself – speculating it could be Author Solutions. However, there was no proof.

Until now.

A source at Penguin Random House has provided me with a document which shows that Author Solutions is secretly operating Nook Press Author Services. The following screenshot is taken from the agreement between Barnes & Noble and writers using the service.


You will see that the postal address highlighted above for physical submission of manuscripts is “Nook Press Author Services, 1663 Liberty Drive, Bloomington, Indiana.”

Author Solutions, Bloomington, Indiana. Image courtesy of Wikimedia, uploaded by Vmenkov, CC BY-SA 3.0 Author Solutions, Bloomington, IN. Image from Wikimedia, by Vmenkov, CC BY-SA 3.0

There’s something else located at that address: Author Solutions US headquarters in Bloomington…

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Monday Flash Fic: The Patient

Snow family“They exist!” he screamed. “I’ve seen them. They live in the clearing near Breck’s Pond.”

“Calm down, Dennis.” I made a note in his file: schizophrenic. He’d been brought in two days ago, raving about a “family of snow people.” The seemingly endless winters of the last few decades were taking their toll on fragile people like him. It didn’t help he kept going off his meds, and when he did, he eventually showed up here. “Did they speak to you?”

“Not to me, no,” he said in a somewhat quieter voice. “They talked to each other. There’s a mother, a father, and a boy.” He narrowed his eyes at me. He’d been restrained to prevent him from hurting himself or others, and though he almost continually tested the stasis field, I was in no danger. Continue reading

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Bits of Florida

Before we get to the photos, I wanted to touch briefly on something that occurred to me a few days ago: age, and its impact on relationships.

As you know, I’m getting on in years, yet online, age is not a factor. Have you noticed? We relate to each other easily when physical factors don’t get in the way. My friends online are every age, and it doesn’t seem to matter. We connect on a basic level, which shows everyone has something in common.

I then thought about my real life. I’m mostly surrounded by people who are older. There are few young in the mix. Why is that?

People look at someone like me and see only the shell. They think I’m stupid, uninformed, or at the very least, are uninterested in anything I have to say because they can’t see it would be relevant. Because I’m old, ya know. If they only knew, eh? :)

They don’t give me the chance to connect with them, and I think that’s detrimental to both of us. And lest you think I’m not guilty of doing the same thing, well, I’ve avoided talking to most of my neighbors because they’re all so old. I’ve reached the age where I don’t want to censor myself, and with them, I have to. I used “fuck” in a sentence with someone, and she immediately remarked about how she doesn’t like bad language.  Continue reading

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Monday Flash Fic: Dude Ranch

10991253_351332291720531_5602371881385647476_nThe incoming group looked much the same as the others had when they first arrived. Too nervous, too talkative, too damn clean. They piled out of the rusty van, faces split in huge grins, expecting trail rides, campfire songs, and meals cooked over open flames. They’d get it, too. Boss always saw to that.

I helped unload the luggage and noticed one slender young man in stiff new blue jeans lean into someone bigger and sturdier than him.

“We’re here at last,” the leaner said to his companion, who smiled and slipped an arm around his waist.

That was different. Looked like we had our first gay couple. I felt a tiny thrill. I was gay, but no one at the ranch knew it. I’d kept it to myself the two years I’d worked here.

Their names, I found out as cabins were assigned, were Lonny and Craig. Lonny was the small, thin one. They’d come all the way from Chicago for a vacation in the wild.

From the first, they were lots of fun. Lonny went out of his way to entertain everyone with hilarious stories, and he often made himself the butt of the joke when it came to learning how to saddle a horse or twirl a lariat. Craig was helpful, always first to offer assistance to whoever needed it. They quickly became popular with guests and staff alike.

I gravitated toward them whenever they were in the area, unable to stay away. I hadn’t been around gay men since my college days, and seeing them together made my heart ache with longing. They made me vividly remember what I’d been missing all this time.

At the last campfire of the week, the evening before this group left and another one showed up, someone asked Lonny if he’d miss the ranch when he was back in Chicago. The sun was sinking in the west, and the reddish light made his face glow.

He patted his stomach. “I’ve never eaten so much, and every bite was delicious. I’ve also never slept better. The silence at night made my ears ring.” He grinned. “No sirens. It’s been heaven.”

“There’s one thing that needs doing before we leave in the morning,” Craig said solemnly, fingering the denim duster that had been so pristine when he’d arrived and was now broken in and dirty, like it should be. “Please stand, Lonny.”

Surprised, Lonny glanced around the circle of people before rising. Craig knelt at his feet. I leaned against my horse, admiring the picture they made, silhouetted against the last light of the day, limned in sunset lavender and red.

Craig took Lonny’s hand in his, and I swallowed hard. I knew a proposal when I saw one. Craig spoke the timeless words and slipped a ring on Lonny’s finger. The women present “awwwwed,” thrilled at the romantic gesture. Lonny burst into tears of joy and wrapped himself around Craig.

I didn’t sleep much that night. Instead, I did a lot of thinking, and in the morning, I handed in my notice.

When Lonny and Craig and the rest of the tour group left, I went with them, in search of the life I was finally ready to embrace.


Remember to checkout everyone else’s story, too!


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More Birds, a Dog, and an Orchid

Photos today!

We start with a common mourning dove. It was sitting in the tree at R’s lake house, watching the setting sun. Mourning Dove 2.18.15 sm Continue reading

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