Coffee heat rising

Publishing: Proceeding Apace. Decluttering: Ditto.

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 Holy mackerel! It’s been TWO DAYS since I last posted here. How two days passed in an hour and a half escapes me…  Just now I’m engaged in preparing and preposting two months’ worth of bookoids for the Publishing Empire. {heh…maybe that’s what I should’ve called the current enterprise!} That is a much larger job than it seems.

It entails creating covers for 16 books (plus boxed sets, which just now are on-the-side jobs); obtaining ISBNs for each one (a truly time-consuming nuisance: you’re doing well if you can get one ISBN registered in under ten minutes); reviewing, correcting, and updating copy for each book; and posting cover image and contents for each book to Amazon.

I’ve learned you can enhance efficiency and reduce distraction by doing all of these tasks for a bunch of books in one sitting (actually, it’s going to take about three or four days…), rather than breaking in to whatever you’re doing to jump through the endless hoops for one book at a time. And you can post the completed MS and cover art at Amazon and “save as draft.” If you’ve done every step but the last one (and done each step right…), all you have to do on the scheduled “publication” date is go back into your Amazon “bookshelf” and click “publish,” thereby saving yourself a lot of time-consuming hassle on that date, when you might want to be doing something else with your time.

So, here’s an OPINION POLL:

Which of these do you prefer: the one with the black Roberta Stuart byline, or the one with the red?

Draft cover Daniela 2 LO RES

Draft cover Daniela 3 LO RES

The question is, which “Roberta Stuart” byline would be most visible in an Amazon thumbnail? Black? or Red?

Demonstrate the POWER OF THE HIVE MIND and cast your vote for one or the t’other! Tell me in the comments to this post which one you think is more effective.

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You’ll recall the last time I visited these precincts, I was considering whether to get rid of the fancy Christofle silverware in favor of some stainless flatware that can go in the dishwasher. Well, my friends, the deed is done. And, after traipsing all over the Web and all over the city, I finally found a set that’s not too cheesy and not too expensive at…so obvious, why didn’t I think of it before this morning?…Williams-Sonoma!!

I did indeed go over to Sur la Table. Total wasted trip. The one set that looked like it might be OK when viewed online had all the heft of plastic. Just junk. And they way they had their flatware displayed — jammed upright into random containers — confirmed that the proprietors regarded the stuff as junk, too.

Revisit Crate and Barrel’s: unappealing, lightweight, not so very junky, but junk.

Across the city, driving driving driving… Arrived in another mall that hosts a Williams-Sonoma and a Pottery Barn. At the Williams-Sonoma, in addition to scoring a couple of tasty snacks, I found two sets that appealed. One — the coolest of them — had heavy handles that unfortunately were made of pewter: “hand-washing recommended.” Saleslady said that translates as “handwash, period.” Defeats the purpose. The other was this brushed steel retro design reminiscent of the set my ex- and I bought shortly after we were married, yea verily way back in 19 and ought-67. It was moderately weighty and not displeasing in appearance.

And marked down 20 percent.

Just in case, it was over to Pottery Barn to check out their wares.

Forthwith, BACK TO WILLIAMS-SONOMA. Pottery Barn had a couple of attractive designs but they were…oh yes. Silver plate. Purpose defeated again.

So I purchased the following:

P1030611

Not too awful, eh? These little gems can go straight into the dishwasher. And, although they’re not as elegant as a set of fine Christofle, they have a decent heft to them and they’re distinctive without being obtrusive.

Kind of interesting, this flatware safari. If I’d ordered the stuff online that appealed to me, from Sur la Table, I’d have been very unhappy and probably would have ended up traipsing to Scottsdale to return the junk. Overall, I went to five brick-&-mortar retailers plus an unknown number of online sellers before finding a design resembling what I wanted. And really…I don’t think I’m that picky! There’s nothing extraordinary about these pieces. Well…except insofar as they display a modicum (and I do mean modicum) of quality.

Think of that.

Decluttering: A shovel-it-out moment

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So  yesterday I didn’t sit down to actually work until around 5 or 6 p.m.

Because… A friend asked if she could camp in the Funny Farm’s spare bedroom during a transitional period in her life. Her DH landed a very fine job in the Bay Area and has already launched himself there. She, meanwhile, has a teaching contract that she’s loath to walk out on — because she’d like to get academic work in California, she’d like not to burn any bridges — and she’s in the middle of her first semester of a master’s program in her profession.

We propose, therefore, that she’ll stay at my house for a month or two while enjoying the thrills of a commuter marriage (hooboy! lucky kids…). I’m pleased about this idea: it’ll be nice to have some company for a change, and it’s also nice to be able to do something for someone else. For a change.

She’s moving in on Thursday, so before than I need to shovel out the unholy mess that is my dwelling. Number one: the piles and piles of unused clothing in that bedroom’s closet!!!!

In the normal course of events, that closet would hold winter clothes and dressy stuff, and the one in my bedroom would hold summer clothes. Events, however, have been far from normal.

After the deboobifcation surgeries, I tried on all my tops and dresses and put the ones that definitely we re still wearable in my bedroom closet. A bunch of shirts and knit tops were too uncomfortable against the still-healing wounds to wear. Plus I still had some size 10 and size 12 jeans, which I figured I’d better not get rid of because I’d need them if I got fat again — which indeed has come to pass since the accursed gut surgery.

So I took all the uncomfortable clothes that I thought I might be able to wear in the future and hung them in the spare bedroom closet, with a PostIt note reminding me to try them on in May, when I expected to be more or less functional again.

In May I did go through those, try them on, and retrieve the ones worth wearing in the summer heat. A whole bunch of long-sleeved knit tops, sweaters, vests, and jackets remained in the storage closet.

So yesterday, by way of emptying out the closet for my friend, I went through all those, folded everything truly wintery and stored them in a suitcase, and moved stuff that I might be able to wear now that it’s cooling down a little bit into the bedroom closet.

The closet is now chuckablock full… Read “I have got TOO MUCH STUFF!

Really, I need to get rid of it. Because I rarely throw anything away, clothing items drift up like snow or sand dunes or dog hair…  But you know, every time I shovel stuff out, within about two or three months I’m searching all over the house for it and I really need it and then I’m upset because I can’t find it and then I’m even more upset when I remember I gave it to the Goodwill! So on top of my innate laziness, I tend to be kind of conservative about getting rid of stuff I paid to have.

I did, however, haul a big pile out to the car to try to peddle at My Sister’s Closet when I’m near there next Thursday morning.

Interestingly, at least half of that came from My Sister’s Closet!

We’ll see if they’ll take the stuff back. 😀

While I’m at the Closet, I’m going to drop by their home furnishing store and see if, by any chance, they have a decent set of stainless flatware at a decent price.

One never knows. Miracles do happen. If (as I expect), they don’t, then I’ll drive straight up Scottsdale Road to the Sur La Table at Kierland Commons and pick up a plain, manageable set there.

As you know, I’ve given some serious consideration to packing the Christofle away, now that it can no longer be washed in a dishwasher. But then decided it’s not such a big deal to wash a few pieces by hand each day.

But y’know…when it’s just me, that’s fine. (Well…it’s not fine, but it’s eminently survivable.) However, when there are two people trying to use the kitchen…no. I think it would be asking altogether too much to expect another person to keep the silver and the cheapo stainless (a Chinese knock-off of my Christofle pattern) separate and to remember not to put the silver in the washer. There’s a limit. So, I’m going to pack away the Christofle and get another set of stainless flatware, which will provide plenty of utensils (because I cook a lot and only run the washer every couple of days, I’ll often run through the entire supply of forks or spoons, just on my own!).

If I like the new stuff, then I’ll just keep it and never have to wash another fork by hand. But if I pine for the Christofle, I’ll break it back out after my friend goes west to join her husband and use whichever stainless set I prefer for cooking and knocking around.

Anyway, even though I had to work until 1 a.m. to catch up with publishing stuff left undone, I felt very pleased. A lot of shoveling-out got done. The spare closet is pretty much empty (except for a few hanging linens), so she’ll have plenty of room to stash her stuff. Next: shovel out the bathroom so she can find room to park her make-up. Then we’ll be good!

🙂

Wait! I forgot to show you this. How do you like this cover I designed last night?

Presentation4 LoRes

Heee! Hafta to ask you: how about that!  I think I’m getting pretty good at this. In fact, I may have missed my calling: I should’ve been a graphic designer.

This book is part of the Travelers frame story that will go on sale through November and possibly into December. We have two sets of stories for the holidays: Travelers probably is best for December, because it’s premised on a bunch of airline passengers becalmed overnight in an airport. The other, Family, is focused on Thanksgiving: the stories of brothers, sisters, and hangers-on making the annual trek home to Mama’s house for the big family reunion around Thanksgiving dinner.

So: watch for these stories, all of which are upbeat and fun and probably tell stories that resonate with your own life. Onward!

🙂

 

Reality or Illusion? The Growing Complication of Life

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Have you ever wondered why it seems to take SO much longer to get out the door and into your car than it used to? For a long time, I thought it was just me — probably a function of age. But lately friends have made the same remark. It may not be a universal phenomenon, but it surely does appear that a lot of people feel it takes longer to leave the house as the days go by.

Puzzling about this the other day, I decided to list all the things I had to do one morning before I climbed into the car and drove out of the garage, and then compare them with the routine I had say, 30 years ago: back in the day when I could grab my purse, jump in the car, and be gone! Here’s what happened, with the new stuff classified by “Security,” “Age,”  “Burdens of Too Much Stuff,” and “Changes in living arrangements or habits.”

1. Locked up the computer

Security. Also probably Stuff. In the good old days, we didn’t have computers and so we didn’t have to worry about having our entire lives go out the door if one was stolen.

To secure my computer hardware, I have a solid-core door with a hardened lock on my office. Whenever I leave the house for more then ten or fifteen minutes, I lock that deadbolt. This has the same effect as a set of stairs to a second storey: whatever you want is always on the other side of it.

2. Unlocked door, went back in office, retrieved a pair of bifocals for driving and label reading. Relock door.

Security: See above in re: the door hassles.

Age: As a young woman I wore contact lenses and never needed reading glasses, even if I was wearing regular distance glasses. When you get old, contacts number among the many things you don’t want to be bothered with anymore.

3. Took out the garbage.

Changes. Security. The beloved old house had no fence, so I would step through the oleanders into the alley to toss the trash. Later, the gate in the fence we installed had no lock. To get out to the garbage can now, I have to unlock the latch, wrestle the gate open, wrestle it shut, and relock it.

The old house’s kitchen was big enough to accommodate a garbage can, so I didn’t have a trash bag in the sink collecting garbage and starting to stink forthwith. So, I didn’t necessarily have to take out the garbage before I could leave the house.

4. Locked eight (8!) doors and secured two sliding doors.

Security. Changes. It never entered our minds to install iron security gates with drill-proof locks on all the hinged exterior doors. We didn’t have sliding doors, so there was no screwing around with those things, either.

5. Unlocked two front doors. Tried (and failed) to unscrew an irrigation sprayer so as to get a 90-degree model to replace the 180 degree number that waters the front door every time the water comes on.

Changes. Whoever heard of an irrigation system in a residential yard?

6. Chased the dogs back in the house. Relocked doors.

Changes. Security. My German shepherd did not have to be chased. She came when called.

7. Washed the silver that can’t go in the dishwasher, by hand and on the fly.

Changes. My old KitchenAid dishwashers actually worked, if you can imagine. And they did not tarnish the silver.

8. Remembered to retrieve empty propane tank.

Stuff. We did not have a propane grill. Are you kidding? Gimme a break!

9. Unlocked three (3!) doors to get at the propane tank.

Security.

10. Relocked three (!)  doors.

Security. Who is it, really, that belongs behind bars???

11. Loaded propane tank into vehicle.

Stuff.

12. Went back into house and checked that dogs are safe indoors.

Security. Changes. I never had little dogs that were vulnerable to coyotes and drowning.

13. Relocked door, got into car.

Security.

14. Unlocked door, re-entered house, walked back to bathroom, applied lip stuff.

Security. Changes. Age. Did we include “forgot” among our list of causes? I always carried a tube of Vaseline, a stick of lip balm, or lip gloss in my purse. Another item that comes under the late-life heading of “don’t wanna be bothered with it.”

15. Poured ice and water into car mug, carried it into garage. Relocked door.

Changes. Security. People didn’t carry water around in the car with them, except for a jug of water always in the trunk in case of emergency on the open road.

16. Drove away.

Eleven of 15 pre-driving hassles are security-related! Of course, we did worry about burglars, muggers, and rapists back in the Day. But we didn’t live constantly under lock and key. On the other hand, if I’d run in and out of the house to deal with things I’d forgotten or felt needed to be done, I’d never have gotten out the door. And also, on that same hand, I didn’t have to wrestle with a locking interior door.

The difference, I think, has to do with the possession of computers. That and other kinds of junk we didn’t have then.

You know, if somebody had ripped off my house in, say, 1980, it wouldn’t have been the end of the world. My dissertation notes were handwritten on notecards and sheets of paper; the manuscript was typed on paper — no one would have stolen that junk. Our checkbook register was exactly that: a real checkbook register, not a Quickbooks  or Excel page. But today my whole life is on my computer! If a burglar stole even one of my computers, I would be screwed every which way from Sunday. It would be a real catastrophe to have a bad guy take a device that contains all my financial information, all my business records, all the projects I’m working on, and all my connection to the Internet. Absolute disaster. Hence layer after layer after layer of locks and gizmos to secure every entry into the shack. Layer after time-consuming, ditzy, annoying layer.

Only one or possibly two interferences relate to age: having to wear a special pair of glasses to drive and navigate the world beyond the house, and (possibly) forgetting to oil the lips before leaving the shack.

No wonder I run late all the time! If each of these nuisances took just 30 seconds on average, the combined bunch of them would make me run 7½ minutes late getting out the door. If they averaged one minute apiece, they would make me 15 minutes late.

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Don’t forget to grab your boxed set of five-star-rated Fire-Rider stories! Books I through VI: SIX BOOKS for the regular price of two!

fire book 2ai Fire-rider needs your reviews!

w00t!! Our First COLLECTION Is Out!

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fire book 2aiA collection of shorter works is called a “Boxed Set” in Amazonese. Isn’t that…annoyingly virtually cute? WhatEVER. We just put our first one out, and it looks pretty good. It collects the first six books of Fire-Rider, from the time our hero Kaybrel comes into possession of the captive Tavio to the time the traveling war bands decide which way to go next after leveling an enemy city. Along the way, we meet some colorful characters, learn what drives the warriors’ thirst for blood, examine Kay’s misgivings, and nearly get into a fist-fight.

The first three books have received five-star reviews. Apparently lowering the price to 99 cents causes people to buy it. Must mellow them out, too, which would explain the nice things they’ve had to say. 😉

Fire-Rider REALLY NEEDS those reviews. At $3.99, the set of six books is two bucks less than you’d pay if all six were priced at 99 cents, the lowest figure Amazon will allow me to post. It’s five dollars less than the present total cost of the six books, combined.

So, dear readers (♥♥♥♥), would you please, pretty please with sugar on top go to Amazon and get your copy of The Saga Begins? And then especially please with ice cream and chocolate sauce review the gilded prize at Amazon?

 

New Book Online! And modicum of sanity returns

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So along about the middle of the night, our latest issue, The Kelpie, went live on Amazon. Really…if you can stand a little explicit biology (this one is relatively tame in that department), you have gotta read this crazy little squib. It’s quite short — probably reading it beginning to end will get you through the waiting room at the dentist or the doc’s office. But what it lacks in length, it makes up for in Halloween spookiness. Our author came up with the craziest idea, and from there built it into quite a dark and spooky story with an odd, didn’t-see-that-coming twist.

Only one serious hangover from yesterday: the new Excel file I built for WonderAccountant to view the details of checks and deposits (now that I can no longer use Quickbooks online in its new incarnation) crashed when my computer went down yesterday. (You’re surprised by a catastrophic crash, after all those shenanigans? Surely not!). MS Office for Mac saved the files as “Version 1.” When I saved it back down to disk as an .xlsx file and then tried to reopen the file from that location, I got a “corrupted file” message. NOTHING I tried would reopen it.

But I did manage to reopen the “version 1” file, which I’d stupidly closed because Excel wouldn’t let me open a file with the same name, by calling it up from “Open Recent” in the File menu. You must be calling on something that resides in memory when you do that. When I saved it back down AGAIN as an .xls file (which usually works), it again wouldn’t re-open. Saving it as an .xlsb file finally did recover it and save the data in a file that will open.

Claro que it’s time to back up that entire disk and DropBox to the flashdrive…

Ugh. I worked until 11 p.m. last night, having started at 5:30 a.m. What a bitch of a day. Now, though, only about 75 pages of Honored Client’s book remain to be re-read, so I probably will be done by the time we meet on Friday. I sent him what I’d finished so he’ll have time to review 95% of the book, just in case something comes up on this end.

I’m supposed to go to a local FINCON group’s get-together this evening. Though they’re meeting at my hands-down favorite Valley restaurant, it’s way to Hell and gone in Tempe, and the weather is threatening some major rain. Really, I do NOT want to drive to Tempe through rush-hour traffic in a storm. It’s dangerous enough to navigate that effing freeway under the best of conditions…I do not use the term “fellow homicidal drivers” lightly. When it rains, people around here go absolutely BATSHIT. Batshit on the surface streets is bad enough. But on the freeways? Holy cripes.

The grill cleaning dude came by at 7 this morning. He said it was raining between here and the East Valley, whence he had to drive, and that people were already running amok. Said it was truly a horrible drive.

Today’s next chore is to figure out how to use Mailchimp to send out my newsletter, which has been sitting on the hard drive for several days. This will require sitting through a 25-minute video — probably more than once. I know I’m going to hate that, and so I’m putting it off. Hence, this blog post. 😉

Just picked up $245 from a client. Tomorrow I should collect another $800 from a second rather charming client, and Honored Client…well, who knows? I haven’t toted up the time. But at $60/hour, it will be enough to bring home a little bacon. This will be good, because yesterday The Copyeditor’s Desk, Inc., disbursed a shitload of money to writers and editing subcontractors.

Wow! Here it comes: the sky is getting black and the wind is picking up. Just ran off to shut down the pool equipment as lightning and thunder begin to crash around us. Dollars to donuts we lose the power (and the wireless connection) again.

And so, to publish, before we’re shut down…