I received a statement from the bank today detaling the contents of my Clarkwoods Press business account and things do not look good. Every month I am assessed a six dollar charge to keep the account open. When I set up the account the optimist in me believed I’d sell at least a book a month and that it would all work out. Well, I haven’t sold a book in three to four months and it’s starting to look like closing my account might be the best option.
So, I would ask you, my fearless readers, to help me get the word out in any way possible that my book is available and that it is good. Of course, if you don’t think it’s good then I don’t expect you to lie. I would never expect you to recommend it to someone if you thought it was crap. But, if you did dig it at all, please help me out by telling at least one or two other people. Even if sales don’t go up, it would mean the world to me to know that even a few of you had taken a moment to do that.
Aside from the subtle shock of receiving the statement, I also spent most of the day recovering from a night’s worth of pretty nasty nightmares. To boot, I kept coming up with things I needed to do either for the business or for this website, and it became extraordinarily hard to concentrate on anything at work.
The positives: I did manage to get all of my Who’s Who pages converted to the new format this evening and I should be ready to relaunch that section and that piece of functionality on this site very soon. It’ll be much easier for me to link to names and such.
In closing, because I’m feeling like it would be a neat thing to do, here is a small snippet of the latest story I’ve been working on for the MFA program. I have a feeling that the other story I’ve worked on is better, but for some reason I’m feeling paranoid about any part of it getting stolen right now…
Anyway, this one is good too. If you feel the urge, please leave a comment or two on it.
The last thing Ian Ipsum wanted to hear on that sweltering August afternoon was the sound of the neighborhood ice cream truck making its approach. As loud as he turned up his computer