I'm still drawn to fierce colors, but I wear mostly denim or black or white. I dress like Salem. Dear old lady has been clingy with me and grumpy with the kittens who are both a year old now and don't cower when she or Bailey command the room.
The best part of these beautiful days is sitting outside with her and Bailey in the shade reading, pretending to write, talking on the phone, trying not to scroll mindlessly.
I did take the time to refresh my freak flag. This is Royal Plum by Overtone. After a month or so, it fades away through burgundy to pink. I want to try some other colors or do my whole head, but I'm just not feeling all that bold these days.
★🌑★
Talk about easily amused.
Someone, somewhere, who has Kindle Unlimited has found my book and for few days they have been working their way through the pages. It's been a long time since I've done any advertising or had any sales, so it was a lift to my writing spirit.
KDP authors (ugh, I know.- in thrall and bondage to 'Zon) can get near real time data when a KU subscriber reads their book. And yes, you read the money part right. We get a princely .0045 cent for each page read, by thier count. Sigh.
What I really want to do gather up some lawn chairs and stumps, arrange them around the fire pit out front and have live readings after dark. Bring your own beer and marshmallows. There will be a tip jar. It's enough.
This reader devoured books One and Two in four days and were 75 pages into the third when they stopped reading cold. I pulled up my copy to see what was happening and all I could think of was that I had freaked them out with a passage of rather shocking violence.
"Oh please, get past it," I muttered as I obsessively checked the page count almost hourly. The fact that this reader had a life and was busy did't matter. All I could think of was that the scene, which was pivotal, was a dismal failure. This was a major contributor the weeping and wailing.
Then, sometime last night, Dear Reader dove back in and the numbers started to climb. I was cheering them on and rereading my own book and I kept coming across things that I had forgotten. Things that worked well and surprised me.
Writing is NOT like riding a bike. You get rusty and getting back on is scary.
But delicious.
3 comments:
I love being surprised by my writing. Dee
Ain't it Grand? Sometimes I wonder wtf I was thinking, then I remember I wasn't. I was just in the groove.
Deb (and Dee) ~ I once came upon an old ECE school paper that I wrote...but how I came upon it an dhow I read it confused me...wait? What is this? Did I write it? Oooh...I did! No wonder my teachers back then told me what a good writer I was. It read like a professional article. That surprise can be real and so fulfilling.
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