Katherine Hayton | 2015 July

July 2015

Dotted around our workplace (and the country) are some people who’ve been there forever. Comparatively.

If you have a question about our laughably old computer system, these are the go-to folk.

Unfortunately, that’s so well known that it becomes awkward calling them all the time. Especially when the thing they’re being called about is meant to be within our area of expertise.

I may not have a lot of time in the office to spare, but I do have a lot of stubbornness. So do some of the mini-mes my team is populated with.

So when we discovered an error we didn’t have a solution to this week did we call up the helpful guy who knows everything?

Did we hell.

We put needless time and effort into finding out all the various methods we can use on our system to not fix our error. We found files that didn’t need to be deleted, databases that didn’t need to be updated, and forlorn instructions from decades past that are so out of date even revising them would just make us feel sad and old.

After trolling through everything known to man that we could find, we called in the experts. Not the expert we were avoiding calling, but the people who used to know what they were doing back in the day and who still have the misfortune to work within shouting distance of our team.

We also called the computer system a variety of names which we felt positive would engender a much-needed result, and then called it the opposite of those for the same reason.

We, and by this time I’d given up too so it was really just my team member slogging it out alone, tried doing a slo-mo replay of the process that had resulted in the error to see if there was anything we missed.

We discovered a new way of searching through documents, some reports that will make other team’s lives easier, a truckload of stuff that should probably be consigned to cyber heaven, but did we find the answer?

Of course we did. We phoned the guy we weren’t going to phone and he told us.

The error took approximately seven seconds to fix in the end, so that was a day well spent.

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After waking up at the ungodly hour of four o’clock this morning, I have worked hard all day (some paid, some unpaid) and am happy to say that I’ve finally finished my latest manuscript.

And when I say finished, I mean I’ve sent it off to a proofreader and I’ll probably start making another slew of corrections in a few week’s time.

But for now that’s in the future. I’m just happy to be done with it for the moment, and if I could still drink I’d have a glass of champagne to celebrate.

Now I get to go back to the fun part of writing, designing the book cover.

Oh, and the book blurb. Can’t forget that. Sometimes it’s the best bit!

Formatting, reformatting, trying to get rid of that mysteriously blank page in the middle. All of that lays before me like a funpark ride that’s broken down in the rain.


That wasn’t an order, I just remembered that’s something celebratory that I can actually have it (don’t tell my doctor).

Well, for the next ten minutes until I go to bed it’s going to be a full-on party at my house.

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12 Jul / 1st to 3rd

Well, the weekend is drawing to a close and my highlight today was having a beautiful french lamb rack.

My local supermarket had packed them up and frozen them, and then something terrible had happened and they’d defrosted and had to be sold at a knock-down drag-out price.

While I was looking at them, certain all the while that they couldn’t be frozen because it was on labels all over them, I started to calculate how many I could buy and freeze for a future date.

I know, right? Personally I think we’re arriving at the supermarket far too early. My brain needs time to wake up long after my body has put in the hard yards.

The rest of my weekend, aside from the work I was complaining about bitterly yesterday, was tied up in doing the fantastic task of editing.

A task that is usually full of thrills and chills (yeah, where’s my sarcasm mark when I need one) was rendered even more intolerable by the decision to change my beautiful 1st person manuscript into third person.

The best advice on this was proffered by my current editor who noted that people don’t read books all at once, and when they pick them up it’s easier for them to orient themselves if it’s written in third person.

I get that. It wasn’t really necessary that my manuscript be in 1st person. I’m quite happy to make my reader’s lives easier.

I am no longer happy to do that.

It is too late to stop now.

All of the ‘I’ changes to ‘she’ and ‘my’ changes to ‘her’ are driving me mental. Not to mention that I got sick of doing them individually so used Word to find and replace. That means all the dialogue has to be turned back the other way, and I haven’t managed to turn every possible punctuation source into every other possible punctuation result so there’s still many, many changes to make.

There’s also the problem that ‘me’ occurs inside a lot of other words. I asked word to change only the ‘me’ formats that had a space after them, but this also left me changing the theher back to theme and the meher back to meme.

Couldn’t I hire a child to do this for me her? Apart from the work regulations and me her not having any, I she meant.

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11 Jul / The work week

Not getting enough of work during the week, I spent a half day today back in the office letting work eat up my weekend.

Granted, I would otherwise have simply been sitting on the couch and watching television, but…


That is how I choose to spend my leisure time. That’s all the clue you need as to what I’d rather be doing.

On the other hand, it was pretty sweet being in there almost alone, and not remembering to keep jumping up every half hour to keep the air conditioning going. Luckily the lights don’t require quite that much work or I would have been seriously snitty by the end of it.

It’s odd how during the week working a half day seems like a treat, and by the weekend seems like a burden.

Still, it’s over now. I should stop complaining.

However, I often don’t do what I should, so I may just continue for the rest of the evening.

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09 Jul / I object

End of financial year has been and gone. Back when I was a humble (yeah, right) processor, EOFY was the busiest and most stressful time. Everything needed to be done. Everything needed to be loaded. Everything needed to be paid and married.

The joyful part was knowing that once I got past that I could relax. EOFY comes but once a year, and unlike Christmas it doesn’t even leave me out of pocket.

I’m here to tell you that’s where the good times are. In the rank and file of the office. In the nameless hordes that run the country while the upper echelons make noise. Workers unite.

But, oh no, I wanted a pay rise. Oh no, I wanted to have more influence in the workplace. Oh no, I didn’t heed the suitcase-sized bags under the current team leaders’ eyes and thought ‘how hard could it be?’

It could be MUCH hard. MUCH hard, indeed.

EOFY is a picnic now. Get it on, get it all on. How simple and perfect is that ambition? How easy it would be to just do that and then get back to your normal pace of life.

But no. There is no normal pace of life. EOFY, tick.

Next comes Performance Reviews. Not even begun, tick.

What happens when that’s all locked in? Do I get to relax? Oh, no. Relaxing is for plebs.

I get to set objectives. I hate them so much sometimes I want to cry, tick.

Due to the weirdness of my glorious team, I get to create four different sets of objectives. Three for them, and one for me.

The remainder of the office have standard staff objectives which I seem to have endlessly contributed to this week in what feels like some enormous groundhog day prank, and standard team leaders objectives which, ditto.

They don’t apply to my staff. They don’t even apply to me. Why doesn’t everyone go away and leave me alone? Where has my sense of humour gone?

My only joy is that someday, far away at the end of August while I’m sunning myself beside the pool in the most perfect holiday spot in the world, I’ll look back on this time and I’ll
shriek hysterically
wish drugs were legal.

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It’s back to editing this week. Whenever I can tear myself away from my phone pursuits, I have been carefully, and not so carefully, trolling through every single word I’ve written down and seeing which ones make it through.

Depending on the time of day, this can vary. At the moment I’m about to go to bed, so the chances of all words making it through intact is very high, by tomorrow morning it will be lower.

However, just to keep things exciting, this evening I went all gung-ho and removed an entire chapter.

I’m still hurting. That cut went deep. I remember when I lovingly crafted all those lovely words and stacked them up in lines on the laptop screen dotting them with punctuation, and painting them with white space as deemed appropriate.

The fact I could remove the entire chapter without needing to change any other word kind of pointed out that it wasn’t needed. I’ve heard of stand-alone books being hugely successful, but stand-alone chapters? Not so much.

Now my book looks so much smaller. It wasn’t as though it was a short chapter, it was a halfway decent length. There were thousands of words. Gone forever.

Well, not really. They’re actually in another word document waiting to see if I change my mind tomorrow and put them all back in.

It’s not that likely. I don’t like making decisions the first time. I’m even less in favour of going back and making them again.

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On the day before I went on leave last week, a certain staff member who shall remain nameless introduced me to the joys of a game called BlockJam.

I missed out on the Tetris craze, but it seems now that wasn’t through strength of will but more through lack of money for the large machines that Tetris was played on when I was a girl.

For I am hooked.

I’m currently editing my latest book, so I happily reward myself for a page or two of editing with a game of BlockJam. This was fine in the beginning when I was useless, but the better I got at making anticipatory decisions about where the blocks should go, the longer each game took.

When I started clocking up around twenty-thousand it started to come in at around twenty minutes. That’s a long microbreak in anyone’s workplace. Even the slack ones.

After playing for a few days I’d catch myself humming the accompanying music at odd points throughout the night. It annoyed me.

I turned the music off on the app, but I still hum it occasionally because the happy tune is stuck in my head. Just like Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday, is stuck in there. It’s not pretty in that place. Don’t poke it with a stick.

When I close my eyes at night waiting for sleep that’s late in coming, I place pink squares on blue squares on orange lines on yellow lines, and smile.

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When my darling and I fall in love with a television show we immediately face a conundrum.

When you truly, truly love something you want it never to end but you also want it all the time.

When the love you have is for a limited supply, that can cause a few issues.

Just this last week, we began watching a show for which we had access to the entire first season at once. God loves cable. We watched the first episode and thought it was good. We watched the second and thought it was great. We watched the third, the fourth, and the fifth and thought it was a top rating show. Within our household anyway.

Since then we haven’t watched any episodes. There are only five left. We’re halfway through, and this is a great show. How did we squander so much so soon when we have so little?

So, although we love the show and have access to new episodes we can’t look at them.

It’s not as bad as it is with QI. We save those episodes as they screen, and then parcel them out less than one per month so we never run out. We don’t understand how people can safely live their lives without having constant access to new episodes of QI. It needs to be there when we need it.

Recently, we misjudged a series. We had two full seasons, and because the next season is due to start in August, we watched them with abandon.

We have none left.


I do occasionally miss the sweet old-fashioned days of television when to watch a show you had to be on the right channel at the time it was broadcast, or hope like hell that it would be repeated in a few years at a better time.

There are so many choices now. So many decisions to be made and every episode watched could spell future disaster. It’s a tough life.

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Since mid-June when Amazon first released news that its KDP Select program would be moving from a ‘books borrowed’ method of payment to a ‘pages read’ method of payment, I’ve been wondering what on earth that’s going to mean for my monthly income.

Well, rather than having to wait until mid-August to find out, Amazon have helpfully released some figures this morning that may allow me to calculate out the proposed payouts.

This morning they confirmed again that the size of the KDP Select fund will be at least $11m for July, and they’ve also released figures to say that the total pages read (using KENPs – more on that later) was nearly 1.9 billion.

Yah. Finally some figures that aren’t ‘to make this easy to understand’ figures pulled out of nowhere and good for nothing.

So, first things first, where do you work out how many pages your book is?

This information was released overnight (if you live in my time zone that is, God knows when YOU found out) into the KDP Select Bookshelf ‘Promote and Advertise’ button field. Exactly where Amazon said they would put it.

If you’re used to calculating the number of pages based on a physical book, then you’re probably in for a surprise.

My first novel ‘Found, near water’ clocked in at 366 KENPC (Kindle Edition Normalized Page Count). This is opposed to the physical page count I used previously which came in at 215 pages. My second novel ‘Skeletal’ clocked in at a massive 448 KENPC from a previous physical page count of 268 pages.

To turn that into word count figures it would be approximately 5.3 KENPC per thousand words. Unless you’re using exclusively large words whereupon it’s anybody’s guess.

Now for the fun bit. How much am I going to get paid?

Making the assumption that the 1.9 billion pages read during June was based on the US billion, of one thousand million, and not the UK billion, of one million million, – in which case we’re all screwed and are going to die starving in a gutter somewhere – then the formula seems to work out thusly:

$11,000,000 KDP Select Global Fund divided by 1,900,000,000 KENPC read equals 0.005789474

Multiply that figure by your individual KENPC to arrive at a payout figure for each book if read in full.

Therefore ‘Found, near water’ would nett me $2.11 in royalties, and ‘Skeletal’ would nett me $2.59.

That’s a vast improvement on the $1.33-$1.35 ish I’ve been receiving lately.

Who’d have thought? GO AMAZON!

The 1.9 billion pages read has an element of pause for thought, though. Either there are far more titles out there with low page counts than I’d assumed, or the readers just aren’t getting into the books on offer.

Either way, at this stage it looks like it might be an improvement for any writer who hasn’t been trying to game the system by putting exceptionally low page count books on offer.

My main concern would be for children’s books being taken out through KU or KOLL as their page counts will always be lower than young adult or adult offerings.

My current page read count (part way through day one of the new system) is currently showing at 272 KENPC read. Or $1.57 in cold, hard cash.

I just have to hope now that readers haven’t been only getting through 11% of my novels before abandoning them, and I’m on a winning ticket.

If any other indie authors have feedback or figures on how this new system may work out for them, drop a line in the comments field below and cumulatively we can all try to work out where we stand in this brave, new world.

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