Home Delivery

Blog No. 387

I’ve now been home for more than a month and officially off of the day job for fifteen days. Since then, the third book in my Synthetic Albatross series, Broadcast Wasteland, came out. I’ve been doing other writing and layout since the release, but I wrote about that last week. You don’t need to read about it again, especially since there really is nothing new to say. What is new, is that copies of Broadcast came in, I let them sit for the requited number of days to quarantine them, and I’ve spent two days driving around the city, dropping them in people’s mailboxes. I should say, parts of days. Really, no more than three hours, but long enough that I could convince myself that I’ve done enough work for the day and I can slack off for the rest of it.

Book Hunters Windsor

Blog No. 203

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.

Multi-Topic (Because one wasn’t enough)

Blog No. 196

The last few weeks have been stuffed full of tasks needing my attention. More than writing or publishing, I’ve had work, family, and general domestic responsibilities come home to roost. I’m not sure if any one of them is worthy of being a blog post on its own, but perhaps together they can make up the approximation of one. As usual, I’m not necessarily sure where I’m going from here. It may just be a list of stuff I’ve been doing (not including all the slacking off I manage to fit in throughout the week. But that could be fun right?

Choo, Choo

Blog No. 179

All my April events are done and it was quite a ride. I’m shocked at how three little events, two of which I didn’t have any part in planning, can be so hectic. It’s only five days after the last event and the first one seems years in the past. The relentless cold and surprising number of attendants of the Fogolar Flea Market is a fading memory. Thankfully I have the pictures to rely go back to. The excitement and nervousness from the Phog reading, my second reading ever, is a fading shadow in the light of this moment. The reading at the Essex Railway Station is still fresh, but every moment, the details slip further into obscurity.