i can multitask. i swear it. all at the same time, i can be walking down the street, texting someone on my phone, and getting hit by a car. i’m that good.
what i can’t do, it seems, is write, rewrite, send to an editor for content, rewrite again, paint a cover, design the cover, look the whole thing over a hundred more times, and proofread nearly 500 pages for perfect copy, all while being a single parent and microwaving pizza for dinner. not while making a living in the meantime, and being busy with other things like severe allergies and glowering at the public.
but it has to be done. a disgruntled reader, feeling amateur-hour has been pushed upon them, is liable to stab you out behind the laundromat for neglected typos. and rightfully so. we’re not talking about misplaced sprinkles on a cupcake, here. and i speak Cupcake.
this is where people like kimberly randall come in. kimber has been brave enough and kind enough to take the load on her back and carry it through the war zone of flying punctuation errors (watch out for that misplaced comma boomarang!), mines of grammatical mishaps, and misspelling mortar fire. she’s emerged with the book, “rehabilitation” on the other side, relatively unscathed, breathing a little heavy, but otherwise intact. and the book can now be sent out into the world.
meantime, entrepreneur jeff santoro has started a little publishing house and has taken me on as one of his first writers. jeff’s indie house will issue a first-run of 300 copies, which will be sold through the house, through my own site, and will be available in regional bookstores. this run will happen the first or second week of october. the book, is available via print-on-demand in the meantime, if you don’t want to wait. believe me, i speak Impatience, too. fluently.
i’m blessed to be surrounded by such talented, wonderful people. they’ve allowed me to do some multitasking again (i made shrimp & ziti the other night for dinner), and i’ve been rewriting the third and fourth novels, which will follow “rehabilitation,” as well as preparing the collection of short stories and novelettes, “adirondack gothic.” all of these will see the light of day before the coming winter is over.
as i limp down the street now, texting on my phone, mindful of more cars which could maim me, i’m reminded of the doors in our minds, how many of them there are, and the people who are often there to help usher us through.