Blog Post No. 470
Most of the artists I know don’t have a ton of extra scratch to pay for things. Sometimes when you’re making, say, a book, you need things like good looking covers. How does an artist pay for a good looking cover when they don’t have enough money to get a kindergartner to finger paint for them? That’s right, they trade for it. I was lucky enough to find someone to trade with in Glen Hawkes. He did the covers for Broadcast Wasteland, Break/Interrupt, and is working on the cover for the upcoming Snow From a Distant Sky. He’s not only a talented painter, he’s a skilled graphic designer, so he knows how to make a cover.
I work up on Sunday morning and knew something wasn’t right. My weekend had been the culmination of two solid weeks of work (no time off for good behaviour, or writing). Lots of terrible thing happened that had no choice but to be dealt with. Friday night was seven hours of crap that stuck to me through Saturday morning for my back-to-back shifts. While I managed to get a solid chunk of text written Friday morning, nothing was getting done on Saturday. As soon as I got home from my thankfully easier shift (minus having to mop the floors as the cleaners failed to do for the umpteenth time) I took a much needed nap and prepped all my stuff for Sundays RetroRama. No time for love Doctor Jones. I did my best to get to bed early Saturday night, knowing what was in store for me. 
Last week, I was on a bit of a tear with my novel. I was catching up after a couple of less than stellar months. It was a good feeling. I was getting things together for the long haul. Now, after a busy week of work (and really busy weekend) and too many tasks left for too long. To top it all off, I have the dreaded layout to finish. A huge jumble of micro tasks assembled into one element that, when one task is finished, it screws up something else, leading to a never ending stream of necessary fixes and adjustments. Like I said last week, it’s a doozy. I promised myself that I wouldn’t let it interfere with my writing, and I was partially successful. The writing related tasks didn’t disrupt my flow, but work, more basement construction, and a last minute invite to help out in a music video did. 
In January, I decided to stop writing the book I was working on and started writing another one. The idea was that I would be able to knock out 40 000 words in a few months and have myself a finished novella. It took me until the end of July to reach my original goal, but by then, the story was nowhere near done. I shifted gears and from then on I’ve called the story a novel (or short novel) and had the intention of hitting 60 000 words. From the beginning of August (sitting at near 40 000 words) to the end of September, I struggled to get another 10 000 words. It was a rough time. I did poorly. 
A while ago, no one knows exactly when (unless you were to do a cursory look on line) a principal in Belgium started a facbook group. She had too many books to fit on a shelf, so she hid some around her city and posted hints to the group as to where they could be found. It took off like crazy. There were international news stories about it (which is how I found out about it). The idea isn’t new. Geo cashing has been around for decades, and I’ve even heard about specifically hidden books around cities before. Still, it’s a neat idea, so a couple of writer friends and I stole it. 
Ben Van Dongen 