Unsubscribe Me, Please!

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: I was listening to an episode of either The Indicator or Planet Money (because everything I know comes from NPR) and they were talking about SaaS - software as a Service. It started with big companies, who found it more expedient to subscribe to the software they needed rather than build and run it on their own. (The current state of this? All those damn AI chatbots and summaries we can’t escape from.)

 

Of course, we use the same SaaS, even if that’s not what we call it. We don’t own movies, or music, or sometimes even books anymore. We subscribe to them. We subscribe to credit monitoring agencies, and email platforms, and productivity software, and cloud storage (the digital version of those self-storage units gobbling up real estate everywhere.) We subscribe to auto-ordering, so the dog kibble and paper towels arrive right on time without us having to think about it.

 

Not to mention the “memberships” that renew annually and monthly - Costco and Sam’s Club, Amazon Prime and Netflix, AAA and House Beautiful magazine. (Those last two are me, byw.)

 

It’s become so prevalent there are businesses whose sole purpose is to go through your financial records and eliminate all the zombie subscriptions you never use, but faithfully pay for. And - you guessed it - you can subscribe to the anti-subscription service.

 

How about you, Reds? Do you know everything you’ve subscribed to, or are some of the services lost in the fog? And have you ever had to jump through hoops to get out of a subscription? (I’m looking at you, New York Times.)

Genuinely evil

 LUCY BURDETTE: Oh lordy no Julia, if something happened to John, I would have no idea what television applications we’re subscribed to. What about Substack? That is complicating my life even further. Everyone wants you to be a paying reader, which I get. Writers deserve to be paid! But then how to keep track of who you’re paying what? And, what about all the apps on my phone? I’d like to go through and delete the many I don’t use, but I’m still a member on their site, right? I’ve lost track of those too!

 

Ps It’s Crate and Barrel I can't get rid of currently, and I’m quite sure I didn’t buy anything from them!

 

RHYS BOWEN:  I like to think I know everything but every now and then I get a message saying “Your subscription to x will renew” and i’m surprised because I didn’t know I had it. I try to write them down in my agenda to make sure they are part of my taxes: Lifelock and Norton and travel evacuation and password storage and Zoom professional and Calm and Dropbox etc etc etc. It certainly adds up, doesn’t it. Not to mention Netflix, Britbox, Peacock, Prime… 

 

I’m smiling today because my travel cancellation insurance finally paid up after months of wrangling after John couldn’t travel in September. They wanted to see tickets when all i had was online confirmations. They wanted to see railroads writing to say that my ticket was non-refundable when it says so on their site.I tried pointing out that since I was showing them the cancellation of the flight across the Atlantic John could not have taken any train trips or flights within Europe!  Finally I got so frustrated I told them that if I didn’t get paid now I’d write to the CEO of Chase and the Better Business Bureau. Got paid the next day!

 

 DEBORAH CROMBIE: Good for you, Rhys!! Julia, it was just this morning I actually had to think about what streaming services we subscribe to! Too many, I’m sure. And to many on Substack–those $5 a month subscriptions add up, but I somehow haven’t managed to find the time to cancel the ones I don’t read. (Or to read the ones I really want to read…) I’m patting myself on the back for finally not renewing our subscription to Rolling Stone, because we never read it, and I have no idea who most of the artists are. But every time I cancel a newspaper/magazine/substack, I think about how important good journalism is and how I should support it.

 

 HALLIE EPHRON: I keep a pretty close eye on my expenses in general, and subscriptions are just one piece of it. I stick to Netflix, Amazon Prime, and Britbox for streaming. And would drop one of them if I decide to take a ride on HBO Max or Disney. It adds up. Plus, how much TV can you watch??

 

ACK: Substack. I keep thinking I should be more conversant with what’s there but I’m not. 

 

Am I the only one who’s noticed some up-to-now “free” news aggregators are now making you subscribe and pay to stay tuned in?

JENN McKINLAY: Hub and I recently discovered we had TWO Amazon Prime subscriptions and have had them for years. Also, the Hooligans have subscriptions tied to my accounts that I have no clue about and am afraid to cancel - what if they need it for school? And of course, I keep forgetting to ask. I think this answers your question. I am the WORST. I am going to end up in the poor house over a $19.99 monthly subscription I forgot about - I just know it!

 

 HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: What a great topic, Julia. But good grief, I am the WORST! I have no idea. I am sure it is TRAGIC–like, I have Disney Plus. Do I watch Disney Plus? Heck, no. But what if I wanted to?

 

 And don’t suggest I “get it free for two weeks”because I will never remember, and so much for that idea.  I am very tempted by the anti-subscription service, but it has to be a scam, and even if not, I am not giving someone all the  info they’d need to do that.

 

I think I pay about a billion dollars a year for the NYT games, but I can never figure out what’s what so I leave it. 

 

Roku, and New York, and the New Yorker, and how much am I paying for zoom and dropbox and streamyard and masterclass? Oh, whatever. 

 

JULIA: Okay, dear readers, are you also THE WORST?? Or do you keep a tight fist on your subscriptions?

The Monday Night Zoom Boys

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: The crazed promo person in my brain is insisting I call this Guy-Day Friday! But that’s so silly. So I won’t do it.

But what a wonderful guest we have today: The truly brilliant Charles Salzberg not only brings us the power of his positive thinking, but a positively wonderful event that emerged and bloomed from the pandemic – – yes, a good thing!

Here’s how, with a little help from his friends, Charles found a silver lining in the pandemic. And the friends did too. And as the pandemic wanes (we hope)-- these fab “five guys“ are only beginning their adventures.

(And he has a new book! Keep reading. Because there's a giveaway! )

How the Pandemic Saved My Life (Kind of…)
by Charles Salzberg

When the pandemic hit two years ago and we were ordered to shelter at home, most people became anxious, wondering how they could, in this new world order, shelter in place, day after day, night after night.

Not me.

As a writer, staying home not only wasn’t a problem, it was a gift from the gods. And so, when friends asked, “how are you doing?” My guilt-ridden answer was, “fine.” But in truth, it was way better than fine. It was giving me permission to do something I’d been rehearsing for all my life.

When I was in my 20s, knowing I wanted to be a writer but struggling to decide how I was going to make a living, I scored a job at New York magazine, working in the mailroom. I loved magazines and despite not knowing what editors actually did all day, I thought I could put the only marketable skill I had to good use by becoming a magazine editor. And this, I was told, was a good to start from. But after a week or so of stamping, sorting and delivering mail, I didn’t see my future sitting in an office all day. And so, after a mere three months, I did something that in hindsight was not only downright foolish, but irresponsible. Without having any idea how I would pay the rent, and put food on the table, I quit, and declared myself, without having sold a word, a “freelance writer.”

Fortunately, the dumb luck of the stupid kicked in. Almost immediately after quitting, I sold two articles. One to New York magazine, the other to The Daily News Sunday Magazine. It wasn’t much, totaling a little more than $1,000, but it was enough to make me think I could make it living the life of a freelance writer which, as the winter weather became worse and worse, became more and more appealing. I’d never have to wear a tie and jacket. I wouldn’t have to go out in bad weather unless I wanted to. I could rise whenever I wanted. I could sleep whenever I wanted. No longer would I suffer the “Sunday night blues,” anticipating I’d have to go to work the next day. No nine to five for me, baby. That was for suckers. Instead, I could work whenever I wanted, morning, afternoon, or night.

Then, because of the pandemic, I was ordered to stay home. Was I bored? Absolutely not. Almost forty years of practice gave me a pretty good head start on the rest of you.

There was plenty to keep me busy. Netflix, HBO-Max, Prime, Hulu, Apple-TV, and a host of other streaming services. I discovered true crime podcasts. I read at least a couple books a week. I took long walks with friends. I even Zoomed my weekly lunches with my good friend, Ross Klavan. Instead of having to travel to where I taught writing classes, I Zoomed my classes from my dining room table, revealing other perks: I didn’t have to wear pants. Or shoes. The travel time to work was cut from 20 minutes to as long as it took me to get from my living room to my dining area. And when class was over, no problem. I was already home.

Let’s face it, I was living la bella vita.

As if that wasn’t good enough, there was one other unanticipated bonus that came from those many months of social isolation. Every Monday night I Zoomed (a noun became a verb) with four other crime writers: Reed Farrel Coleman (center of photo), Tom Straw, Matt Goldman (left) and Michael Wiley. And even though we were spread out across the country—I’m in New York City, Reed in the outer reaches of Long Island, Mike in Florida, Tom in Connecticut, and Matt in Minneapolis. But for an hour and a half every Monday night, we were in the same room.

Every Monday night, a few minutes before 7 p.m., I’d set up shop in front of my dining table and for the next hour and a half, I had the time of my life. After all, these guys weren’t just crime writers. They’d all lived very interesting lives. Tom and Matt are also very successful sitcom writers. Matt worked on Seinfeld, The New Adventures of Old Christine and a bunch of other hit shows; Tom worked on Night Court, the Craig Ferguson Show, Grace Under Fire, and Nurse Jackie, and others. Reed has held a number of interesting jobs, while my background as a magazine journalist and nonfiction book writer, dovetailed very nicely with this diverse group.

The conversation ranged all over the map. What we were reading. What we were writing. What we were watching. Anecdotes from our past lives. Whatever happened to be in the news, other than the pandemic and politics. After all, we were there to have fun, to make human connections in troubled times, not deal with the news which seemed to get worse and worse.

And fun we had. In fact, we got along so well that we promised ourselves that when we’d all been vaccinated, we’d take a trip together.

So, last May, after we’d all had our second dose of the vaccine, the Monday Night Zoom Boys rented a villa down in Hilton Head and four of us (Tom preferred to stay home because he didn’t want to put his elderly mother-in-law in jeopardy) spent five days (and nights) together. We got along swimmingly and that ranks as one of the best vacations I’ve ever had.

 

(Here's Tom, gallantly at home.)

Last summer, as the pandemic waned, and the vaccine freed us from captivity, we all mourned the inevitable passing of our Monday night ritual. But wait. Not so fast. Instead of totally abandoning our Monday night meetups, we decided instead to cut back to every other Monday night. And so, our Zoom calls continue to this day.

It’s a close bond that wouldn’t have been possible before Covid hit. In fact, our close relationship has only grown, as evidenced by the fact that four of us are attending Left Coast Crime, where we’ll be able to hang out together in person. And in September, there’ll be Bouchercon in Minneapolis, Matt’s home turf.

So, now that we seem to be approaching a return to “normal” pre-pandemic life, I can’t help but be grateful to a deadly virus for bringing us together.

HANK: Isn’t this great?

And oh, see below for more of Charles' brand new book, CANARY IN THE COAL MINE. Doesn’t it sound amazing? I’m giving a copy to one lucky commenter!

Funnily, my fellow Career Authors bloggers (Dana Isaacson Dana Isaacson, Jessica Strawser, Paula Munier, Brian Andrews and I) meet every Monday morning at 10, on zoom, with coffee and Monday brains, and we’ve been doing it from the very beginning. It is such a joy and reassurance. And ooh, we are doing something together in real life, too – – the first ever in person MIT Endicott House Career Authors Weekend Writers retreat! (Click here for more info. Space is limited.)

How about you, Reds and Readers? Dare I ask…did you discover anything good in the pandemic? (I can tell you, also, I swore I would put the books on my bookshelves in alphabetical order. But nope. Didn’t happen.)

And remember, comment to be entered to win!  (This week's winners will all be announced Saturday!)

CANARY IN THE COAL MINE

Pete Fortunato, a New York City PI who suffers from anger management issues and insomnia, wakes up one day with a bad taste in his mouth, which is usually a sign of trouble. When he arrives at his "office," a desk in back of a friend's real estate office, he's hired by a beautiful woman to find her husband, "dead or alive." He successfully completes his job in a couple days--he finds her husband shot dead in the apartment of her young, stud boyfriend--only to find that his client's check bounces. This is only the beginning of a nightmare that gets him half-way across the country in an attempt to find money which can save his life.

Charles Salzberg is a former magazine journalist and nonfiction book writer (From Set Shot to Slam Dunk, an Oral History of the NBA and Soupy Sez: My Zany Life and Times). He’s twice nominated for the Shamus Award for Swann’s Last Song, the first in the series, and Second Story Man (also winner of the Beverly Hills Book Award). Devil in the Hole was named one of the Best Crime Novels of 2013 by Suspense magazine. 

He lives in New York City and teaches writing for New York Writers Workshop, where he is a Founding Member.

How's YOUR Zoom level?

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN:  How are you feeling about Zoom? It has gone through many incarnations, hasn’t it? 

First it was what the heck is Zoom?

Then, how do you work this Zoom thing?  

Then oh, Zoom, got it, that’s pretty cool. 

Then: I need lighting! I need a microphone! I need a background! I will rearrange my entire office so it looks good on zoom! What do I wear? Make up, make up, make up! Oh no, the lighting for Streamyard is different than the lighting for Zoom! Now what do I do? 

Then it was: wow, all the cool people I can see! Then wow, I can do three events in one day! Amazing!

Then wow.  My eyes are hurting. My rear is hurting. I am tired of staring at the screen. I do not care who is on it.

 

Bye, bye, Zoom.

 

But wait. Don’t go. I embrace Zoom, and the like, I really do.

 

And I hope that when the pandemic is over, we will still use it for all the wonderful things it provides.

 

For instance! ALL OF THE REDS are going to be (via Zoom on Facebook)  at the iconic Poisoned Pen Bookstore on Thursday, December 9 at 7:00 PM ET!  

 

ALL of the Reds! You could not do that without Zoom. And we cannot do it without you, so we hope you will join us live on Facebook on the Poisoned Pen page. And there will be PRIZES! 

 

More great Zoom? Tonight! I’ll be hosting The Back Room with co-host Karen Dionne, and with  the psychological suspense queen Kimberley Belle; the fascinating Brian Andrews who was here this week on Jungle Red (the submarine guy); Vera Kurian, a debut author whose thriller is astonishing; and Scott Shepherd, who you will adore: his Inspector Grant mysteries are perfect for fans of Morse and all those Scotland Yard detectives we love.  Space is limited, but there are a few Zoom spots left for this up close and personal event. 

 

And be sure you look at the other panels coming up – – amazing people like Yasmin Angoe, Alafair Burke, Kellye Garrett, Cheryl Head, Lisa Gardner, Wylie Cash, Bob Dugoni and Heather Gudenkauf and more.  Do not miss these!

 

And you know about A Mighty Blaze? I do a weekly mystery interview, and the authors are astonishing. Coming up December 7 at 4 PM live on Facebook, the incredible Hannah Morrissey. Her book, HELLO, TRANSCRIBER, is absolutely terrific. I mean--one of my favorite books of the year. I hope you will join us on A Mighty Blaze on facebook to hear all about it.

 

And can you believe that First Chapter Fun is getting ready for episode 218? Every Tuesday and Thursday at 12:30 PM ET, Hannah Mary McKinnon and I read the first chapter of a fabulous new book live on Facebook and Instagram! On Tuesday is Stephanie Storey, with a literary fiction about the rivalry between Rafael and Michelangelo;  and on Thursday, Megan Miranda! No introduction needed.  Join us!  (It’s a private Facebook group, so you have to join--but do!)

 

So yes, yay, Zoom. Streamyard, Crowdcast. It brings us all of the wonderful events from independent bookstores, too! 

 

Reds and Readers, how’s your Zoom level? Do you go to Zooms? Do you keep track of them? And question I truly love to know the answer to--when do you decide to go? Well in advance? Or spur of the moment? What do you think,  Reds and Readers? 

And will you be there on Thursday?