That voo doo, that we do

Facebook and I are gonna tangle.  There’s a new application that basically posts my blog to FB every time I update it.  That would be great if I thought that all of my friends who already have to deal with constant Glimpse page updates really needed to be reminded that I wrote a book…again.  It’s hard to market and publicize without being a gigantic pain in the ass.  I allow other writers blogs on my FB feed, but I don’t think we all need to torture our friends by publicizing the same thing over and over on our blogs, webpages, Twitter-having everything so connected is a little weird.  Anyways, there’s this big notice glaring at me from the side of my new post page directing me to authorize connection with FB and I don’t wanna!  When I try to make it go away, it just keeps popping back up.  I want to keep my friends info only on FB where they know it is and can control what they want shown, not sure I need to broadcast it all over the internet.

Other than that hassle, everything’s going pretty well.  Glimpse has been published as an e-book for one month and I’ve sold 11 copies-only one that I know of to my mom.  I’ve been working my butt off on revisions of the print copy.  I got the proof the other day and it looks amazing.  Wee problem with the bottom margin, as in it’s 4 inches from the bottom of the page.  Wha?  It did not look like that on my computer screen.  Oh, computer screen, why do you lie to me?  So, I fixed that and then my sis and I decided to mess around and add a few more things.

We looked at the formatting of a bunch of books and stole the layout of New Moon in paperback.  I now know why SM’s books appear to be 9,000 pages long, when they’re really only 300 page books.  It’s all in the voo doo.  Then my sister added another drawing to the first page and we put a little author’s photo and bio towards the back.

The picture-taking process was hilarious.  I’m a squinter and although it was overcast, there was some weird glare going on the was keeping me from being able to open my eyes, resulting in several pictures of me looking like I’m really pissed off at the rhodie bush I’m randomly sitting in front of.  Also, I changed into this great v-neck sweater so that I would look more professional and writerly, but then I realized that there was some sort of permanent food stain on one of my boobs, so we had to use a photo taken from above the boobs.  Which saddens me, really, because I was counting on my boobs making up for my lack of eye holes.  After about 20 minutes of that silliness-10 minutes of which was taken up by my sister acting like a fashion photog while the wind blew through my hair and I made my eyes further disappear by laughing so hard I almost peed my pants and fell out of my chair-we decided on a photo that sis thinks I look sexy in and I think I look mildly pissed off.  For some people I guess that’s the same thing.

The last bit I added is what I’m super psyched about.  I put a little excerpt of Glimmer in there.  The first vision Zellie has of Claire.  It’s just a tease, but I thought it was fun and made Glimpse seem like a real book.  Which I know it is, but like a real book published by a real publishing house and not just by me in my office littered with kids toys and King Midas scripts.  Also, the print copy costs $7.99 as opposed to $3.99 for the e-book, so I thought there should be a couple of extras.

The craziest things about doing all of the marketing for Glimpse is that I don’t have a ton of time to work on Glimmer.  I’m trying to get back on my schedule and now that Glimpse has been sent off for approval again, I can get down to transcribing in the morning and writing in the afternoon again.  I swear books are like children.  I know Glimmer needs my attention, but Glimpse needs it more right now.

Alrighty, let’s see if this ends up on FB.  It better not, facebitches, or I’m putting a curse on you!  (Okay, the computer suggestions for what the word facebitches might be is too funny.  face-bitches, sum-bitches, faced bitches, sonofabitch, faceless bitches, son a bitch-don’t know where the of went.)

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