Now What?

I’ve accomplished everything I wanted to accomplish and experienced everything I needed to experience by self-publishing the book. 

I wanted to have a “book-signing” party. I wanted a listing on Amazon. I wanted to sign books, even if it was just among my friends. These are all shallow goals vs making big sales, but I’m pretty sure that Amazon is so glutted that making sales is a pipe dream anyhow.

If I’d have known it was this easy to settle that howling need, I’d have done this sooner.

What are my stretch goals? I don’t know right now. I’ve been too busy with writing for NaNo and grading to think about it. It’s going to be something about advertising, though. I need to make that into a SMART (specific, measurable, attainable, relevant, time-bound) goal.



2323232323232323232323232323232348eu4444444444e (I’m leaving the above typo here, as my kitten Chloe had something to say).






Friday the 13th

 Friday the 13th. It’s a good thing I’m not superstitious.

Or maybe I am. I throw salt over my left shoulder when I spill it. I don’t walk under ladders — though there’s a good reason there; walking under them tends to upset them. 

I don’t open umbrellas in the house, mostly because my mother gently told me that open umbrellas in the house were bad luck. I instead go through an awkward dance of opening the umbrella while it’s sticking out the door and I’m still inside. 

I don’t break mirrors. Who does? They’re a silvery bitch of a mess to clean up. 

Black cats are welcome in my house. In fact, I have one. I sometimes consider her bad luck, especially when she accidently trips me. 

I whistle indoors, but very poorly, so I may only be summoning mediocre luck instead of bad. 

Truly, though, I don’t think any of this makes a difference on Friday the 13th. We are all victims of confirmation bias on this day, infusing the random occurrence as bad luck in solidarity with the millions of others who do the same. Strangely, I don’t hear people blaming a dire event on Friday the 13th

The superstition behind Friday the 13th, in my opinion, a mass celebration of the stupid little things that happen to us. And that, with a little superstition, I can get behind. 

emerging


 I don’t know how many of you are out there, nor do I know most of your names, but know I appreciate you. 
I think I’m crawling out of my prickly stress coccoon, which I picture as being something like a datura shell I curl inside of, hoping for peace. 

The truth is probably not as dire as I paint it, and eventually Trump will leave office. The country will start to recover despite a deadlock in the government because thank Goodness there are things like executive orders and Trump set the precedent of using them right and left. The vaccine for Corona may be ready by mid 2021, and we will be able to hug again.

I’m writing. I’m still writing, breaking a NaNo streak of failing every even year since the 2016 election. That’s only two NaNos worth of failure, but I was pretty steady before then. I think I remember what I like about writing, and I think I’ll be able to continue it. 

I also remember that I may have to put the big books, the fantasy books, out there again to traditional publishers. If I get my self-promotion game going, I may be able to put them out using that route.

I feel like I’m coming back to myself, someone who does better at doing than being. Thank you for listening. 

The Best I Can Right Now

Note on caption — I have not had COVID yet, so much of this diagram is not in play. But the lockdown and psychosocial stress is real. Also, WHAT DOES THIS DIAGRAM EVEN MEAN?!



I’m really sorry I haven’t been talking to you for a while. I’m in a rough place right now, and I don’t want it to get rougher, so I’m focusing on what’s necessary until my brain can catch up with what’s extra.

This is a part of my life. My moods can go smoothly until I hit a patch of extreme stress (COVID rates rising plus the presidential election and its batshit crazy aftermath) and then my sleep goes off, my mind is a fog, and my emotions are all over the place.

It takes me a bit to recover. Usually I manage it without a tweak to my medication, and usually I don’t go into the hospital to manage it. I know what to do to keep myself functional — go to work even if my mind doesn’t think it can, get the important things done, go home to rest. Make sure I’m not avoiding emails. Take bubble baths, do cognitive exercises, not fault myself for not promoting the book.

I will get through this. I always have. But if you’re not seeing as much from me as you have, understand that I am doing the best I can.

Thoughts on the election from a disillusioned American.

 I haven’t written in a few days. As the world knows at this point, Biden is projected to win the election, which is to say that there are dribbles of votes to be counted which look like they’re going to be predominantly toward Biden. Yet I don’t feel hope.

There is an ugliness in this country. We saw it when Obama won the election, and we see it now that Trump has lost. For that matter, we saw it when Trump won. A leering mass of exhibitionistic radicalism calling itself conservatism.

It doesn’t seem that radical to me to believe that people of color should not have to face institutionalized racism, and that structures built to favor whites should favor no race in particular. It doesn’t seem that radical to me that all people be allowed dignity. 

I don’t see European countries as hopeless hotbeds of Marxist-style communism. I consider them, and us, to be the center: noone should starve. The homeless should be homed. Noone should die of an illness that could easily be treated. If the poor had options to gaming the system, they would likely take them.

There’s a 2% or so of people who would game the system, but we see them at the highest echelons of the social class scale as well, and we allow the richest their plunder as if it were admirable.  

I don’t know if I believe in the inherent greatness of the US anymore. The spew of obscenities spilling from the mouths of the most virulent MAGAs does not mark a great country. 


I can’t believe I haven’t written in a couple days. It’s been terribly busy:

  •  My virtual book signing party went off very well on Sunday, despite my jitters. About seven people showed up, but that was a fine number to interact with and about the number I expected to show up if I went live. 
  • I started NaNoWriMo, and I’m struggling because I haven’t written a book for a while, trying instead to edit what I already have. It’s time to write, and this book is going slow. 
  • It’s been a bit of a challenge to find time to write because of the fact that it’s a crucial project time for my students. 
In addition, I have a sense of existential dread over the (US) elections. I’m not by any means alone. 

So I’ll do my writing to the best of my ability over the next several days, meditate, take deep breaths, teach my classes, and pray for the best and most compassionate outcome. 


Where did the time go?

 

“Your book goes live Sunday! Aren’t you excited?”

Gah. I haven’t had time to be excited. It’s been one of my busier weeks, with interns meeting with me, exams to grade, a class website to experiment with …

I have so much to do!

I need to put together the party this afternoon or tomorrow! It shouldn’t be too hard; it’s an online party, I don’t have to supply food, just things to do. 

I have an online wedding and a Halloween outing to the Board Game Cafe in costume tomorrow. (No, I’m not going to do the costume at the wedding!) 

I need to write my first 2000 words on Sunday. Before the book-signing party? After? Both? I need coffee! At least I’ll have another hour to do so with Daylight Savings Time ending. 

I need to just take a deep breath and do things one at a time. I have the time I need.

An Uptick in the Numbers

 My corner of Missouri seen a big uptick in cases of COVID over the last few days — yesterday’s news from the Health Department showed 49 new cases overnight, and 180 current cases. If that doesn’t seem like a big number, the population of the whole of Nodaway County is 22,092 people. We’ve had 1101 cases so far since the pandemic started, which comes up to 5% of the county. 

There’s nothing unusual about those statistics; cases are spiking across the US, and the US is doing nothing to contain the spread. Some people tout “herd immunity”, but there is no way to reach that without a vaccine or without 2% of those getting COVID dying. 2% doesn’t sound big, but the 228,000k that have already died sounds like a more alarming statistic.

There’s part of me that understands giving up and going back to that unfettered life, life without a mask and with restaurants and vacations, given that the statistics are so bad. But then I think of my age, which is almost old enough to put me at high risk. I think of my husband, who is in a high-risk group. Most of all, I think of how many people I could infect without a mask, without ever knowing I’m contagious. 

Life is not as usual, and it won’t be for a long time. Every time I think I have adjusted, I am reminded that I need so much more patience. 

Sunday’s a momentous day

 On Sunday, my novel goes live (at least the Kindle version). And NaNoWriMo starts! So I am having a book launching party on Facebook and writing my first 2000 words in the same day.

The Facebook party will need a bit of planning, which of course I have not done yet. I wanted a real-life party, but ironically, I have more people attending this one than I would have a real-life party. 

Fittingly, I’m writing the sequel to The Kringle Conspiracy, called Kringle in the Night, for NaNo. So I have a Christmas romance for next year.

I’m afraid for this year’s NaNo. The only time I failed to make my goal was four years ago, because Trump won the presidency in the US (and it turned out he was worse than I imagined). Now I’m afraid he’s going to win again, and I think I will be making plans to move to Canada if he wins again. At any rate, I will be too depressed to write. 

Here’s to a favorable result in the election, and here’s to a month of creativity!

Same of a Sameness

The problem with acting wisely during COVID is that every day seems the same. All the classes run into each other; all the meetings are on Zoom, restaurants are unsafe; social gatherings are too risky. It’s better than the alternative, of course, which is getting COVID and risking one’s health or life.

I’m old enough and fat enough that I risk my health with exposure, so it’s not just a matter of “catch COVID and get it over with.” My husband is high risk because of a preexisting condition, and I really don’t want to give it to him. I don’t want to give it to everyone else, either. 

Some things help. Good coffee, music on the stereo, candles, paying attention to the weather outside, our faux fireplace. A comfortable work station in the living room. Scented candles. 

I will make the best of this.

**********

Another bald self-promotional opportunity here — The Kringle Conspiracy is live in paperback; if you want Kindle versions you can pre-order.

Toymaker Kris Kriegel has fallen for professor Marcia Wendt, but he’s afraid of getting too close because he has a secret. Marcia thinks she’s found the one, but Kris’s secret has left her mistrustful. The two must work through trust issues and honesty and through this, they will discover The Kringle Conspiracy.