Behind the flesh is not bone
Well, the book came out, as those people who are inclined to pay attention to my facebook posts found out (once for the e-book version, and again for the print). As predicted, there was not in fact a hidden compartment in the sky filled with weighed down balloons and confetti, however the experience of receiving congratulations from friends and family was very gratifying. A small part of me was actually almost insulted. It was almost like they knew I could do it, but didn't really know I could do it... until I did it.
The promotional things have begun also. The first of the interviews I conducted last month is online now. I nit picked that to death also, wondering why there were no links to my website and blog, or even the book, or a review of the book. The remainder of those materials are to be posted later in the month, about the time when I'll start calling around, inquiring after the possibility of a book signing. I also need to send off copies to the reviewers, and think of something relevant to scribble on the inside cover of those copies I'm ordering personally to put into the hands of people close to me.
Speaking of parsimony, I just recently muscled through the second chapter of three to be drafted this weekend. Yesterday's went smoothly enough, and today I even woke up in a state to write. That is to say, I had spent a good bit of time focusing on the one thing that I would write about for such a period that I felt prepared, ready, when I finally sat down, instead of fighting off the other ideas trying to also filter down onto the page. But then, a thousand words in, the air went out of my sails. I almost literally looked behind my chair to wonder at where the wind had gone. However I did get through it, with some difficulty, and now I'm debating after whether the third chapter will be attempted, or left for tomorrow.
Promotional things continue as well. The review I did for that other author seemed good enough; at least, he asked me to post them on several sites, at which point I discovered that such things have to be reasonably authenticated, tied to the name of the person who has the account. It makes sense, otherwise people could post whatever they wanted in whatever amounts. I suppose in that regard I was paid a compliment. He got back to me with a review of his own about my work, and his statements were somewhat glowing.
Moving forward with my advent into the world, I've decided to ask a visual artist friend to take some photos of me. He is familiar with photography and profiles and head shots, and I was able to articulate what I did not want my photo to look like, and described to him the favorite of my mentors: a man standing in a road, trying to have a photo shoot, but cannot help but stare at a random dog which has wandered into the shot, and decided to sleep in the middle of the lane. I told him that I wanted my picture to have a story. So, perhaps that will be done, and the result will be posted to various places. Still, I wonder at the importance of my face.
Trying to "verify my humanity" on one of those sites, I failed repeatedly, and couldn't understand why.
The promotional things have begun also. The first of the interviews I conducted last month is online now. I nit picked that to death also, wondering why there were no links to my website and blog, or even the book, or a review of the book. The remainder of those materials are to be posted later in the month, about the time when I'll start calling around, inquiring after the possibility of a book signing. I also need to send off copies to the reviewers, and think of something relevant to scribble on the inside cover of those copies I'm ordering personally to put into the hands of people close to me.
Speaking of parsimony, I just recently muscled through the second chapter of three to be drafted this weekend. Yesterday's went smoothly enough, and today I even woke up in a state to write. That is to say, I had spent a good bit of time focusing on the one thing that I would write about for such a period that I felt prepared, ready, when I finally sat down, instead of fighting off the other ideas trying to also filter down onto the page. But then, a thousand words in, the air went out of my sails. I almost literally looked behind my chair to wonder at where the wind had gone. However I did get through it, with some difficulty, and now I'm debating after whether the third chapter will be attempted, or left for tomorrow.
Promotional things continue as well. The review I did for that other author seemed good enough; at least, he asked me to post them on several sites, at which point I discovered that such things have to be reasonably authenticated, tied to the name of the person who has the account. It makes sense, otherwise people could post whatever they wanted in whatever amounts. I suppose in that regard I was paid a compliment. He got back to me with a review of his own about my work, and his statements were somewhat glowing.
Moving forward with my advent into the world, I've decided to ask a visual artist friend to take some photos of me. He is familiar with photography and profiles and head shots, and I was able to articulate what I did not want my photo to look like, and described to him the favorite of my mentors: a man standing in a road, trying to have a photo shoot, but cannot help but stare at a random dog which has wandered into the shot, and decided to sleep in the middle of the lane. I told him that I wanted my picture to have a story. So, perhaps that will be done, and the result will be posted to various places. Still, I wonder at the importance of my face.
Trying to "verify my humanity" on one of those sites, I failed repeatedly, and couldn't understand why.
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