I am on third, waiting for the sac fly to bring me home. My luck it will be a passed ball or a balk. Actually I will probably be picked off and be the third out in the bottom of the ninth. Baseball metaphors are only so useful.
My novel is in the second draft, close to done. The cover painting, and the back cover are done. My son will help me with my remedial photoshop skills to get my lurid paperback cover complete and then SHABANG- I will self publish my very own self indulgent novel on Amazon (the evil empire of narcissism). I expect with the e-version and paperbacks (which I will hawk and beg my fellow humans to purchase) I will make almost $60 for my year of writing, which frankly is probably more than it deserves.
The story came out better than I hoped and I do like it. It is not the ugly step child that you need to love even though it is deformed. I am proud of it. Laurie read it and liked it, even found parts funny which I was very relieved about. I am working on a final third draft. It makes me happy to be so close to being done. However , the reality is that no one will ever read it. I will get some hard copies printed and force my family and friends to read it, but it will never be seen by more than a hundred humans. That makes it a little bittersweet but it is the truth. The system is broken, like film distribution, like music and everything else: the digital age has made us all equal and better able to be completely ignored.
No comments:
Post a Comment