Today has been a singularly ridiculous day. It started out well, with several cups of coffee from my new Prostetnic Publications mug, but I didn’t manage to get dressed and showered until nearly 4:00, having spent most of the previous four or five hours struggling profanely with Microsoft Word and trying to get the manuscript for BA Vol. 2 beaten into sufficient shape to be able to send it to my alpha readers without shame. Once I accomplished that task and sent it off, I then broke my own rules and went right back to editing, and sent them another version of the document about an hour ago. Part of this revision included eliminating every single semicolon in the entire book. That took a while.
This is especially entertaining to me because the “How to Launch your New Book” post has seen a bit of a resurgence in interest in the last couple of days; I apparently got shared out by someone influential. So, yeah, guys; follow as much of that as you see fit, because clearly I don’t take my own advice.
Then, just now, it hit me that in order to send something somewhere I would have to sign a letter with my pen name’s name, rather than my own. I have completely lost the skill of cursive handwriting other than my own name, so I needed nearly three pages of practice sheets much like the one above to get my “L. Siler” signature in a point where I didn’t feel like it looked like it was written by a two-year-old with a motor control deficiency. I won’t tell you whether that’s one of the early sheets or a later one. God help me if I ever really do a signing.
I have one more task to complete before I can leave this computer, so I’m going to go get to it so that I can spend at least a little time hanging out with my wife before this Sunday is completely wasted, and that one’s not a writing task, so hopefully I’ll be able to knock it out quickly.
Did you put pants on today? How long did it take you?
Oh. One more thing. It’s connected to the book, but I’m not telling you how: