There’s been a lot of talk these past couple weeks about the 99 cent e-book, and the devaluing of digital fiction (most notably here by Zoe Winters, and here by Chuck Wendig.) So I thought I’d throw my two cents onto the pile.

I think e-books are kind of like handbags.

You don’t hear Fossil trying to explain why their bags cost almost $150, when you can go to Target and get a similar-looking bag for $15.99. Or why their wallets cost $65 (dude, $65 for a wallet!), when you can get a lovely wallet at Target for $9.99. They don’t explain. They don’t care if you think $150 is extravagant for a handbag – in fact, they’re even counting on that a little. It’s hype.

If I was going to buy a Fossil bag (and oh, how I want one!), I would go in there, open it up, see how big it is inside. I’d carry it around the shop with me, looking in all the mirrors, wondering, does this one suit me? Is it going to make me feel glowy inside?

If I was going to buy a Target bag, I would just buy it. So what if it ended up falling apart, it was only $15.99. In fact, if it fell apart, I probably couldn’t even be bothered to take it back. I’d just tell all my friends, “God, why do I always buy these damn Target bags? They look supercute, but they always fall apart!”

Because you know, a Target bag might look like a Fossil bag. It might be supercute. And you buy it because there was that one time you bought a Target bag, and you got it home, and it didn’t fall apart. Maybe it even lasted a couple years. Maybe you lucked out. Maybe you usually luck out with Target bags. OR, maybe you’re the type of buyer who needs so many new handbags that Target bags are fine! They hardly even get enough wear to fall apart!

But in the end, a Target bag is *usually* not a Fossil bag. And also, because you didn’t stand there for 30 minutes looking in the mirror with it, probability will dictate that your chances of not loving it are higher just because of that alone.

Target bags are impulse buys. You don’t think about it, you just buy them.

Fossil bags are thoughtful purchases. You think about it, you consider it, you pick the one that’s just right for you, the one that will make you feel glowy inside, and then you spend your 150 glorious dollars on it. And you carry it around with pride.

Fossil couldn’t even afford to sell their bags for $15.99 – they don’t produce them fast enough to have the volume for it. They spend more time crafting the bag, stitching it carefully. They spend more money on the materials.

I’m not saying all bags need to be Fossil bags – what kind of market would that be? Some people will spend even more money on a Coach bag! (Not my style, but you know, I see the appeal.) Walmart does bags too, or Old Navy. And you can get bags at JCPenny or Kohls too.

Target bags are beautiful bags. Believe me, I own a few dozen. Some of them have even lasted me a couple years. And I keep buying them. It’s so easy. It’s cute, it’s $15.99, and you think, why the hell not? But in the end, a Target bag is still not a Fossil bag. And that’s okay.

No store has to explain why they sell the kinds of bags they do, and at what price point. They just sell them. People buy them or they don’t. People carry them around and feel glowy inside, or they don’t.

That’s all.

*kind of a long excerpt this week*

It was a concrete drain pipe, discarded and long forgotten at the side of the creek. She came over, bundled up like a marshmallow in canary yellow, and he was too, in dark green. Snow melted in patches on the ground, but there was none inside the pipe. Instead, he found a black plastic trash bag. He knelt down to it, pushed at it to guess what was inside. He imagined live mice bursting out, or miniature-sized alien creatures, with slimy green skin like toads. But whatever was inside felt firm. He broke it open and found newspapers.

“Wow,” she said, picking one up. “I bet they’re from a hundred years ago.”

The date said 1981. He read a couple words from the headline, stumbled and stopped at one he didn’t know. She looked at the word, mouthed the syllables. “It says ‘embargo.’ Don’t you know anything?” He would have figured it out. She just had to be so quick about things.

“What’s ‘embargo?’” he said.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I heard it on the news once.”

The bag of newspapers was heavier than he expected, and he dragged them out of the pipe and crawled inside, sat in the middle. She followed and sat next to him. He imagined it was a submarine, or a space ship – yes, space ship. He stretched his feet to the other side, pressed against it like there were pedals, turned a steering wheel out in front of him. She pressed her feet out too, but she wasn’t driving. She didn’t need to because he was, and she planted her hands down like she was holding on.

He swooped left, a whole body swoop, and she did too, to avoid a plummeting asteroid. He swooped right, and she did too, so not to collide with another space ship. “Whoa,” she said. “That was close.” But they weren’t out of danger just yet, they were still being chased – yes, by white-suited inter-galactic soldiers in stealthy space jets. He drove, and she held on. She was his sidekick, his wingman. She got to be the sidekick because she was shorter, because he was seven now and she was still six, and because she knew a lot, and a trusty sidekick needed to be smart. She was a funny little twig of a girl with a mop of wild blonde hair. She talked about panda bears or how you should turn off the water when brushing your teeth. She knew every endangered species there ever was. And the planets too, but he taught her that.

- from the practice novel, which is now buried in a shoebox in my closet, may it rest in peace.

notes: sorry about the length on this excerpt. I always really liked this bit, but the novel as a whole was going nowhere. So I thought I’d rescue a little bit for this photo project, so that it might have its little 5 minutes of glory

Also kind of meh about this photo. It’s not my favorite photo of the week, but as per my project rules, it’s the one that was taken for a story excerpt. If I hadn’t had D with me I could have gotten a better shot, maybe climbed in there to clear some of that brush away. I would have liked a clearer shot into the pipe – it was SO dark in there, and super cool.

And much like the kids in my story excerpt, I totally would have climbed inside if I were 6 (and in fact did climb in many drain pipes like this). But you know, I didn’t want to give my own 4-year-old any ideas about climbing into creeks and drain pipes, lol!

outtakes that I liked better: