On 3rd August, Gordon Lawrie returned to Blackwell's Writers at the Fringe for the first time since 2013, alongside four fine writers: novelists Jane MacKenzie, Hania Allen and Olga Wojtas, together with poet Rita Bradd. Gordon spoke for a while about his new book The Blogger Who Came in from the Cold and read a short extract.
Normally Gordon would then close with music from the new book. This time, however, he talked more about the interaction of music and fiction in his work and sang a new song, The Shores of Caledonia. Here's an excerpt from his performance.
If you've signed up to the Comely Bank Publishing newsletter (and just get in touch if you haven't but would like to), the latest one contains a free short story by Roland Tye. It's called Demons, and if you'd like to read it, you can download a pdf from the link below.
I'm suffering from an interesting affliction: novelist's block.
Never heard of it? Well, neither had I until recently, when I discovered that I could write almost anything except a continuation of my latest novel. Short stories? Flash fiction? The odd (very odd) poem? No problem. Even the occasional song, believe it or not. But a novel? Nosirree. The keyboard's gone cold.
Part of my problem is that I'm easily distracted. Short fiction suits my lack of concentration rather well, although even a decent-length piece can be challenging unless I'm in the right mood. But I probably have enough to publish a collection, even allowing for one or two being dropped out by an editor.
The Blogger Who Came in from the Cold hit the bookstores only last week. But while that book had been going through the editorial and cover design sausage machine, I'd been writing its successor... until it hit the buffers.
So what next? Ironically I covered this very subject myself in a blog a couple of years ago. But that assumed a general writer's block, not a problem with something specific. I suppose that, in the end, there'll be nothing for it but to lock myself in a room and grind it out. But I also know what that means: it means that I'll have to start all over again once I'm finished. Because a novel must flow seamlessly, carrying the reader along with it. And if it's not doing that for me, the author, it's hardly going to do that for anyone else.
Don't expect that new novel any time soon.
These photos of the launch of Gordon Lawrie's The Blogger Who Came in from the Cold are courtesy of Callum Chomczuk.
Last night saw the launch of The Blogger Who Came in from the Cold by Gordon Lawrie in Blackwell's South Bridge, Edinburgh. Gordon was "in discussion" with the Edinburgh International Book Festival's Helen Chomczuk (although she was anxious to make it clear that her role there is a non-creative one). Helen also happens to be his daughter.
The evening was really well attended. Helen skilfully prised a few nuggets from Gordon, who also read a couple of excerpts and played a couple of snippets of not-very-good (his words) music from the book. Questions followed from the floor to conclude a fast-flowing evening which one observer described as "buzzing".
Gordon Lawrie's new novel The Blogger Who Came in from the Cold will be launched (and published) on Tuesday, 12th June in Blackwell's, South Bridge, Edinburgh.
There are still tickets available for this event, which is free and begins at 6.30. If you want to be there, make sure you book your ticket via Blackwell's own online Eventbrite booking system.
The other day a fellow writer got in touch with me. She'd written a story faintly referencing a well-known burger chain. Then, anxious to ensure she was allowed to quote the brand name in her story, she decided to contact the burger chain's customer services department to be sure.
The burger chain (allegedly – you'll understand that I can only quote her version) instead said she could be sued for using their brand name, and demanded to know her name and contact details. Perhaps they threatened to pull her fingernails out and shoot her dog, too, but I've no information on that. Whatever happened, the writer was sufficiently concerned to contact me to ask what to do.
I suggested a slight edit, but I honestly don't think it was necessary.
I've noticed that North Americans sometimes get a little confused about copyright and trademarks. The author of a work of art – including paintings, sculpture, music, photographs as well as literature – can claim copyright and that he or she wrote it. To claim copyright, all that writer needs to be able to do is to demonstrate that they wrote it first. After that, no one else can reproduce it without the author's permission. However its title can be referred to, and the work can be quoted for the purposes of critical analysis and education research – so long as it's made quite clear who wrote the original.
A trademark, on the other hand, is a brand. It can be an everyday word or picture, but even a trademark needs to be able to claim it's unique. Trademarks are registered, mainly to make it easier for big corporations to hunt down other firms who try to steal the brand. Big firms pay agencies to manage their trademarks, and also to frighten innocent callers.
That's why a recent case – where a romantic fiction author managed to trademark the word 'cocky' for the titles of her books – is nonsense. US judges aren't doing so well at the moment, but this was a particularly bizarre ruling: allowing a long-established word in the English language to be for the exclusive use of one individual is utterly perverse. Someone will sort that.
There are two areas where writers need to be incredibly careful about copyright. The first concerns quoting music lyrics. When I was writing my first novel Four Old Geezers and a Valkyrie, I wanted to have the central character singing some rock classics while bashing an old guitar. Once I discovered the cost, I changed my mind. Quoting one line – just one line, mind you, of the Beatles' song When I'm Sixty-Four costs over $1,000. I changed the story. Note, though, that I can mention the title of the song quite freely.
It's also important not to steal images from image stock firms such as Shutterstock, Dreamtime, Adobe and – especially – Getty. These firms can use clever software to trace copies of their work online, so that your ebook cover, say, will be spotted if parts of it match with an image in their library. And they go for the jugular. For £7.00, say, just accept that it'll cost a little to stay onside with the publisher.
When you're dealing with the Beatles or Getty, it pays to take care of your fingernails and your dog.
A bit of a storm has been kicking off in the trendy Stockbridge area of Edinburgh. Strictly speaking it's not even in Stockbridge at all, it's in Comely Bank, on the highly controversial site that currently houses Edinburgh Accies' rugby playing fields.
Let's be clear about this. This is the very same site that in 1871 saw the first-ever international match, between Scotland and England, and was officially not available for building development at all. It's the same hallowed ground that's been allowed to fall into such disrepair by its less-than-competent owners that it desperately needs to sell land in order to stay alive. And it's the same land that, despite the connivance of the local council, still hasn't yet seen one single shop built. But it's amazing what you can achieve with friends in the right places.
Anyway, the fuss began when James Daunt, Managing Director of Waterstones Books, announced plans to open a 'quasi-independent' branch in one of these non-shops under the cloak of "The Stockbridge Bookshop". Daunt said it would be 'a tad smaller' than its biggest Edinburgh branch in Princes Street. Still pretty big, then.
That evoked an understandably furious response from Stockbridge's one existing independent, Golden Hare Books, who claimed that Daunt was cheating on a promise not to open bookstores in competition with little independents. In turn, Lighthouse – Edinburgh's self-styled left-wing bookshop on the Southside – issued a predictable rallying call for Edinburgh's citizens to overthrow the Darth Vader of the book world. Arise, ye starving reading classes.
Personally I struggled see what the fuss was all about. Waterstone's has no means of filling the shelves of its branches – 'independent' or otherwise – except through its Hub and central suppliers. You're a small publisher and want to sell your books in a few selected local Waterstones branches? Whistle. Waterstone's so-called independents will just be selling the same best-sellers as all the other Waterstones.
Along the road (genuinely) in Stockbridge are two real powerhouse charity shops that sell books. They have nothing to fear from a Waterstones, to be honest, and in any slugfest, they'll crush Daunt's newcomer.
And here's a strange thing. When that little independent bookshop The Golden Hare opened five or six years ago, there actually was a Waterstones branch almost exactly the same distance away – in the other direction, in George Street. The little bookshop wasn't bothered then. Independents like The Golden Hare, Lighthouse and the excellent Edinburgh Bookshop prosper because locals support them through thick and thin. The Edinburgh Blackwell's brilliantly balances that independent feel with the buying power of a UK chain by focusing on niche markets, such as academic and Scottish-interest work that Waterstones has no idea how to market.
So what we have is a number of parallel markets, each being served by different types of bookstore: tiny independent, charity and second-hand, niche, and megastore. I reckon this new bookstore will only be a threat to other Waterstones, at least once everyone's initial curiosity has settled down. Meanwhile, all the other booksellers have garnered some free publicity by kicking up a storm about it.
Whatever, this morning it seems that Golden Hare is claiming victory: the new shop is now to be branded as a Waterstones after all, not as an 'independent'. Well done them.
Would somebody like to explain to me how that makes a blind bit of difference?
Lucy Lloyd's debut novel Russian Doll got off to a flying start last night at Blackwell's branch in the South Bridge opposite Edinburgh University's Old Quad. In a very informal discussion before a healthy audience, the Scotsman's Jane Bradley skilfully steered the author towards opening new light on many of the book's aspects.
Set in an imaginary post-independence Scotland experiencing a soft Russian invasion, the central character of Russian Doll is Anna Aitken, a producer for the newly-created Scottish Broadcasting Corporation. As a former BBC radio producer herself, Lucy Lloyd admitted that she drew on past experience for her descriptions of the internal workings of broadcast media. She also admitted that she admired Anna for her spikiness, but that she wished she had more of her courage. With her husband sitting in the front row, she neatly ducked the question from the audience on whether she herself would have found the male lead character attractive!
Lucy gave a couple of readings, and afterwards there were many questions from the audience. That the audience had enjoyed their evening was even clearer when it became apparent that most of the "books for sale" had gone in no time. Perhaps it also helped that there was some free Vesperis vodka to try (the Russian link) both before and after the event!
Lucy Lloyd's Russian Doll is priced £9.99, from Blackwell's or any other good bookshop, or from our own website.
Lucy Lloyd's novel Russian Doll hits the bookshelves today. Set in a post-independence Scotland facing a soft invasion by Russian, the book is a political romantic thriller. Anna, the central character, is pulled in different directions as she falls for a Russian diplomat.
It's a great read, and is available at good bookstores near you from today. Or order it direct from us.
The book launch is in Blackwell's, South Bridge, Edinburgh, from 6.30 to 7.45 – free but ticketed at Eventbrite. Come and hear/see/meet the author and get your copy signed!
Recently, one of our books was returned damaged in transit by a leading distributor. The firm – which we'll not name, that wouldn't be fair – made a bit a mess of things, but I'm not complaining about that. It deals with thousands of books and orders every day and everyone makes mistakes.
But what emerged out of the whole process was that book distributors don't exactly rush to get your books out to you. It took ten days to tell us that the book was damaged, and everything is sent by second-class post.
That's fine. Distributors have to think about their margins, and if they can save a little by using slower postage systems then they're entitled to do that. Likewise, there's little point in us using first-class post to send books to distributors. Our margins are small enough.
However, if you choose to place your order directly with us at Comely Bank Publishing, we will undertake to send your book to you as fast as we possibly can. (That applies to booksellers, too.)
Get in touch by email, or order through our Online Bookshop.
Lucy Lloyd's Russian Doll will be launched (and published) on Tuesday, 8th May in Blackwell's, South Bridge, Edinburgh.
Tickets for this event are likely to be in hot demand, but they're free. If you want to be there, make sure you book your ticket via Blackwell's own online Eventbrite booking system.
The other day a friend casually mentioned that she was looking for someone to help her prepare her manuscript, CV and proposal letter for sending to a publisher or an agent. I'm assuming she'd been advised to do that, because she said she was looking for someone with 'commissioning editing experience' – the quotation marks were hers. It's not bad advice. Writers should always give their manuscripts the best chance of being accepted.
I don't think she was specifically asking me for help. I would have been prepared to help a friend, but if you don't know someone it's quite an imposition. There are firms out there that offer the service, and of course they charge a fee. Here's one example, and you can check their prices for yourself by clicking on the logo.
It might seem a lot of money, but consider this: you're asking someone to give up a substantial amount of their time to read a book that, frankly, they might hate. Then they'll have to sweat over your proposal letter to see how to turn your sow's ear into a silk purse. And your CV might actually be rather underwhelming if you're an unpublished author. And you expect a report on your book, too.
OK, so that seems a bit cruel. But I reckon that this firm's prices are pretty reasonable given the number of hours spent reading your book alone. Consider this: how many hours would it take you to read a novel of 100,000 words, say 400 pages? Could you really do it in one and a half eight-hour days? Because any longer means that a £100 reader fee is illegal – it's less than the minimum wage. In practice you'd need to read the book on day 1 and leave the morning of day 2 for the letter, the report, the CV and sending the whole lot back.*
Bear that in mind when you send your book to an agent or publisher, too. They don't have time to read all of your book and if it doesn't hold their attention from the off, it's heading for the bin. (Chances are it's heading for the bin anyway because these people are so hard-pressed for time but that's another matter.)
Realistically, the first page counts most. Spend time getting that right at least. Get the proposal letter right, and above all make your synopsis short and sweet. Tell the story right through on one side of A4.
And don't get too disappointed if they still reject your book. It happens to all of us. And you're dealing with ordinary human beings, at the end of the day.
*I should make one thing clear, by the way: I've no idea who "Writers Services" are. Their fees might be reasonable for a decent job, but a decent job might not be what they actually do. I genuinely don't know. If you want to find out something about the quality of their work, I'd suggest you ask for testimonials and get in touch with people who have used them.
The other day one of our authors was abruptly informed that she needed to have Public Liability Insurance to be allowed to give a talk in her local library. "Council rules", she was informed, and to the tune of an eye-watering £5 million, too, and so that was that.
I could hardly believe it at first when she told me, but I checked up on a number of websites and, sure enough, they all said the same thing. Now I confess to having a slightly jaundiced view of insurance companies: after all, the more afraid they can make you, the more profit they make.
What's going on here is that councils are being required to take out their own Public Liability Insurance, which they do with specialist insurers. These insurers in turn try to wriggle out of their responsibility by saying that it's the guest speaker's job to insure themselves. The council leaders hand down the edict to the rest of their staff, and that's the end of it.
Prices paid for PLI vary a lot, from just over £20 to almost £100. The one at £22 will still include a commission for the organisers (these things are simply underwritten) and almost everything else must be simply administration costs. The actual "insurance" portion of the payment must be negligible.
Which equates, surely, to the risk. What on earth could possibly happen at an author event in a public library? Could the sound of the author's voice break £5,000,000's worth of windows? Could the snoring of the audience crack the building's foundations? Perhaps a pile of the author's books could topple over and cause injuries so severe that the author gets sued for £5,000,000 damages. (And just to be clear, criminal conduct and defamation are always excluded.)
If anyone's got any ideas, please let me know. Meantime, as the author said, "Council rules are rules."
One my pet hates is VANITY PUBLISHERS. These people prey on would-be authors, pretending to be conventional publishers but taking money from the authors instead of giving it to them. Have a look at this contract below, from a British vanity publisher (Austin Macauley) with an American office.
Hardly any part of this is fair. The author has to pay hand over fist for the book to be published, yet has no guarantee anything will be done. There's not actually any incentive for AM to do anything at all. Sign this and your manuscript and book are dead. Done for. You've paid out over $3000/£2000, have no recourse and can't even complain – Clause 18 is a gagging clause.
To be clear, SELF-PUBLISHING is very different from vanity publishing. Authors who self-publishes retain all the rights to their books, and they can terminate the contract and sell to a higher bidder (such as another publisher) any time they like. They even own the books. So Comely Bank Publishing authors can and do run their own signing events, selling their books and pocketing all the money.
Comely Bank Publishing is a self-publishing not-for-profit collective with a growing reputation and a network of marketing outlets. But there are reputable commercial firms that will help you self-publish, too. Two that get a decent name are Matador and New Generation.
They make it clear that you're self-publishing, unlike the clear-as-mud nonsense in that contract above. I'm sure there decent people who work in these offices, but I'd have so much more sympathy if they'd only be honest.
In the meantime, please – whatever you do, don't sign anything like that.
I need to share a very sad story with you.
The authors at Comely Bank Publishing generally do all right; in fact some of us have done very nicely and almost all of our titles have gone to reprint. But our motto is damna ad reductum – keep losses to a minimum.
In the circumstances, then, you'll understand that the very notion of throwing out books, even destroying them, is anethema to our association. Yet that's exactly what I'm about to do. What makes it worse is the books in question are actually my own.
My 2013 novel Four Old Geezers And A Valkyrie has gone to reprint a few times now (they're not big print runs, 100-200 at most). By 2015 sales were beginning to slow down, but I didn't want it to be out of print so I asked the printer I was using at the time, Berforts, to run off 40 copies for me.
When the books arrived a few weeks later, I didn't know what to make of them. The ink seemed very faint, the copies seemed rather thick and the paper had a rough texture. Back then I was still learning about printing (I still am, in truth) so I couldn't work out what the problem was. Fortunately I had some copies left from the previous print run so I wasn't panicking.
And then, just as I was about to complain, Berforts went bust. It had gone into administration. As John Cleese might have said, it had ceased to be. It was a dead printer. I had nobody to complain to.
I had to find a new printer fast, and fortunately managed (our current printers are 4edge) with the help of a former Berforts employee. But I also needed to find out what was wrong with the old books so I sent a copy to the new printer and one of their staff helpfully explained over the phone that... absolutely everything was wrong with it. The wrong paper had been used, they'd even cut it in the wrong direction. Presumably this was because the firm was struggling to meet orders and it was my misfortune to get caught up in all of it. Berforts should have been ashamed of it. Thankfully it wasn't a big print run.
I have enough decent copies of Four Old Geezers And A Valkyrie. You can still buy it in the shops and it's available online, too. But what can I do with those unsaleable copies? Nobody seems to want them, even free, and they're taking up valuable space. We have new titles coming, including one of my own called The Blogger Who Came in from the Cold, and I keep tripping over these two unopened boxes of substandard books in the middle of the floor.
They have to go, and reluctantly I've come to the conclusion that means "recycling". I can't even burn them to stay warm this winter as it's a fossil fuel. Perhaps they'll compost nicely.
(I should in fairness point out that Berforts has returned to life but not really as a printer. Instead, I understand they're now 'print agents' who source printers for their clients.)
...To all of our readers.
This year promises at least one new author, Lucy Lloyd, as well as the 2018 publication of Gordon Lawrie's new novel The Blogger Who Came in from the Cold.
More news shortly.
by Gordon Lawrie
I've had a couple of interesting discussions recently with fellow writers and editors over the value of style manuals such as the Chicago Style Manual, Fowler, Grammar Girl and so on.
Personally, I don't care for them much. Particularly when writing fiction, language style is definitely what seems natural: there isn't a 'right' and 'wrong'. I concede that style manuals are fun to look at sometimes, and there are a few things – italicisation of newspapers or song titles and so on – that my generation wasn't taught at school.
Here are a couple of examples. Some people just hate semi-colons (a word that can be spelled without the hyphen, of course). A semi-colon should separate two linked sentences; the two sentences should be independently viable but feel better connected.
Another bad boy is the "comma splice", sometimes known as the "comma fault". Occasionally it feels right to separate two sections with a comma, the words just read better that way. But you can't lay down rules for any of this. (That comma could even be a semi-colon, for instance. Or just two sentences. Or a dash.)
To quote Lynne Truss (not the Tory cheese woman), "done knowingly by an established writer, the comma splice is effective, poetic, dashing." I'd suggest the rest of us should consider dashing.
Finally, it so happens I completely disagree with Grammar Girl on the use of commas – I just happen to think she's coming from completely the wrong angles. The use of a comma is generally easy for me: it's where you stop to breathe. Just about everyone of my generation would agree with me.
That doesn't mean she's wrong, though, it just means that her style and mine are different...
This article first appeared on Gordon's own blog.
Each year, Friday Flash Fiction – Comely Bank Publishing's sister site – runs a flash fiction contest that attracts entries from around the world. The event is sponsored by Comely Bank Publishing and this year attracted a record entry.
The organisers tried something a little different this year: the two judges selected a short list of eight, then all the Friday Flash Fiction writers were invited to vote for the best one (just like the Oscars).
In the end, the winner was a relatively new Edinburgh writer, Lyn Miller, who won $50 and the pleasure of being a judge next year. Here's her winning entry.
Ruth fled north, escaping her first widowed Christmas. Traditions were the last thing that she wanted. She’d chosen a luxury Lodge offering a gourmet menu and organised activities.
Ice cracked under boots as they climbed and exhaled breath formed a cloud. The group leader yodelled. Nothing, the hills seemed bare. Another yodel and then shapes began to appear; silver-grey, approaching down the hillside. Closer, and antlers became apparent. Ruth’s offering of pellet food on up-turned palms was nuzzled up gently. The reindeer gazed at her as she stroked its warm, luxuriant fur and Ruth’s petrified heart thawed just a little.
As a New Year gift to our readers, we're offering Gordon Lawrie's 2017 novella The Discreet Charm of Mary Maxwell-Hume, together with a 2015 print copy of Four Old Geezers And A Valkyrie. For a limited time only, you can have both of Gordon's books together for a combined cost of £8.99 including postage within the UK. What's not to like?
THIS REPLACES THE OFFER FROM 27th OCTOBER 2017.
For more details visit the "Bookshop" page of this website here.
Gold, Frankincense and Dust: A Commissario Soneri Investigation by Valerio Varesi
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Commissario Soneri, Valerio Varesi's Parma detective, was new to me. Books in translation are always a little dependent on the ability of the translator to communicate the little nuances of the plot, but this is done well.
This is a decent story, centring on the discovery of a burnt out body near an autostrada pile-up, and that of an elederly man who has died on a bus heading back and forwards to Romania. Are the two deaths linked? Along the way, the book touches on the role of Roma gypsies in Italian society and how they're treated, but essentially this is a good old-fashioned detective yarn with credible characters.
It was also short, always a good thing when you're looking at a new author. I'd read more Soneri books, for sure.
View all my reviews
Gordon Lawrie, December 2017.
Comely Bank Publishing author Jane Tulloch features in today's Sunday Post, discussing the lost social history of Edinburgh's lost department stores. (You should be able to read it full-size by clicking on the page above.)
Jane is now in considerable demand as a local historian, and you can go along and hear her speak at Previously..., Scotland's History Festival, which this year runs from 17th-26th November. Jane's slot is on Friday 24th November, 15.30-16.30 in the City of Edinburgh Methodist Church, 25 Nicolson Square, priced £3.00.
Find out more, or book online, at:
This article by Danielle Zigner at the excellent Writers&Artists website caught my attention this morning. Zigner is a literary agent with LBA Books, and it's always useful to read what those in the industry have to say.
However, it's a question only first-time authors ask, because of course the real answer is "as long as it takes to tell the story and no more". You should read the full thing (see the link above), but the crux of her answer is: around 100,000 words for adult fiction.
Now that figure of 80K-120K gets bandied about a lot. But it ignores the fact that the person asking the question was that undiscovered first-time author. I'd suggest that Zigner's sums are wrong for two reasons, at least in the UK.
First, very few new writers get contracts with one of the big five publishers. Instead they're picked up by smaller publishers or even publishing collectives such as ourselves. For small publishers, books either have to be bought by wholesalers in bulk, or – much more likely – they're stocked and sold by booksellers in bits and pieces. Small publishers then have to send out books by post individually.
The point is that, in the UK, anything under 25mm thickness can be sent as a "large letter" for around £1.60. Anything thicker than that is classed as "small parcel" and costs around £2.90. That extra £1.30 comes straight out of the profit margin for author and publisher. Typically, a bookseller will expect £4.00 profit margin ("discount") from a £9.99 book. If it costs £2.90 to send the book on top of that, the publisher is left with just £3.00 to produce the book – not very much. The "large letter" option is much better as it leaves £4.30 to play with. Very roughly, a 300-page paperback is around 25mm thick. In my experience, printed in something like Minion or Garamond at 11pt, that's approximately 75K-80K words.
The second factor is easier to understand. If a reader is new to an author, then they're more likely to read a short example of their work first – it's common sense. Here at Comely Bank Publishing we call these "breakthrough titles", and at the foot of the blog you'll see a raft of examples of short novels which are likely to be the first books by those authors that you've read. I know that Zigner makes exceptions for literary fiction, but I think it applies to all adult fiction really. Once you've read one of the author's works, there's every chance you might go back and read a longer one, but then you're in a different league altogether.
A word to all of our customers about Amazon.
At Comely Bank Publishing we are grateful to anyone who's keen to buy any of our paperback books. But while we appreciate that Amazon is often a convenient way of buying books, we feel that you need to be aware that Amazon eats massively into our profits.
Sure, you're buying direct from us, so you'd think that by cutting out the middle man – the bookstore – you'd be doing yourselves and us a favour. Sadly, the story isn't quite so rosy.
It's been our practice in the past to try to deliver our books to you post free, but in addition to the postage (which will be £2.85 for many of our books) Amazon charges us a staggering 38%-46% transaction fee. What that means is that, if a book costs £9.99, the combination of postage and Amazon can take up more than £7.00. Your local bookshop won't be making that sort of profit margin, and they'll be offering you a much better service.
We can't really operate at those charges, so we're going to have to start charging for postage if you order through Amazon, I suspect.
If you want to order online, why not order direct from our bookshop page? We still have to pay around 8%-10% transaction fee with PayPal or credit card, but it's a whole lot better for both you the customer and for we writers. We can absorb the postage in most cases, and we probably deliver quicker, too.
Above all, though, we hope you enjoy our books. Thank you for continuing to support us.
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