Not even the butt crack

I think spikesleman has given me her insomnia, or at least disturbed sleep. I've been up for an hour. I felt hot and uncomfortable and I tossed and turned and finally gave up. I think I slept somewhere in there but I'm a little too fagged to know for sure. Yesterday was a busy day.

I only have eight more newsletters to do. I picked up this month's issue at the printer and labeled, stamped, sealed with the sticky little round mailing disks (2 per newsletter so they don't get chewed up in the mail machines) and mailed them. I do this in my car in the parking lot near the printer's because there's a mailbox there and the office that picks up from there is the only one in the city that will send them for one first class stamp without tacking on a whole bunch more postage. I don't know why it weighs one ounce at that station and 1.1 or 1.2 at every other station. The driver who picks up the mail there gave me a whole bunch of big ol' rubber bands to hold them together when I stick them in the box one day when we happened to be at the mailbox at the same time. In fact, I haven't seen too many other mailboxes out in the wild like that. Most of them are outside post offices. You'd think there'd be mailboxes all over the city in practically every shopping mall or near every big chain grocery store, but there isn't. Just one more reason this city is a bit weirder than any other place I've lived -- but I love it anyway, the way you love an awkward child or a schmuck.

I also received a letter with a release form attached. I have to sign it before another one of my articles is published. I'll have to keep that in mind the next time I submit to them, but they're paying me and another one of my articles will be published in a major national magazine. Not too shabby says I. And two of my books are out this month and should be on the shelves either now or some time this week: Cup of Comfort for Single Mothers and Chicken Soup for the Adopted Soul, the latter has been on the shelves since January and I still haven't been paid. I hope they send the check soon. My story is on page 98 in the Chicken Soup book. And there are more coming, lots more if this week is any indication, since I received two more acceptances. I need to get back to writing more regularly; can't keep going to book signings, readings and doing interviews if I don't keep writing.

That's another thing. Looks like I'm paired with two other Colorado writers (one in Aurora and the other in Pueblo) who are setting up the signings and they've contacted me to jump on board. Those women have other books out there and they've been doing the book signing/reading and interview thing for a while. Nice to know they're letting me tag along, and at least I'll learn something in the process. So, keep an eye out for news from Barnes & Noble and Tattered Cover bookstores because I'm a comin' and I won't be alone.

Research and work on the new project is coming along. I've already had an offer to syndicate the article from a major national newspaper I queried who is associated with the syndicate. I had no idea things would move along this fast, but I'm hanging on for all I'm worth. Radiantsun has helped enormously with notes and links and contacts since she's "in the business". I've approached Alternet, a group that has nationally syndicated my articles before, and they're very excited and want to move on this as quickly as possible. Reprints are half of the original article fee, but they want to syndicate it to hundreds of alternative newspapers and that's going to add up -- same thing with the national mainstream syndicate. I think I've picked a winner and I'm not quite sure how to handle all this, except to get back to work and move things along as quickly as possible. I always do my best work when I believe in what I'm writing, which makes me a lousy writer when I have to write something just to make money. I'm not good at hack work. I can churn it out, but it lacks heart and, I think, appeal. I could be wrong because people still like what I write and I have received my share of fan letters. From what I've been told by the publicity department at Chicken Soup and Cup of Comfort, I should expect more fan mail from my stories. I may have to get a post office box. At least it's tax deductible. I can use more of those since I'm making a lot more money from writing now.

Well, I don't feel tired yet and I have to get up soon anyway so I think I'll dive into some of the food I paid for and eat something nourishing -- like one of the four cantaloupes. I ordered four pounds of cantaloupe but they sent four cantaloupes instead. Good thing I love the stuff or I'd be miserable. What's really strange is opening the refrigerator and the freezer and find them both full of real food. That's a first since I moved in here. I was even forced to put canned goods in another cabinet, ruining it's pristine not used look. The way things are going, I may have to violate another empty cabinet because I broke down and ordered wine glasses for the wine that is currently resting in the fridge and one of the cabinets (white cold - red room temp). I'm becoming quite the connoisseur -- or something like that since I haven't actually opened the bottles of wine. I do occasionally cook with wine, but use only one bottle at a time. Nel and the landlady often give me a bottle of wine for holidays and my birthday and they go into the pot as well. I have to go out and buy some burgundy because I'm making this really wonderful chuck roast for dinner on Friday night since I have a date and we're watching a movie together. The chuck roast and a bottle of Shiraz are on the menu, along with the movie and good company, which is why I bought the wine glasses since I doubt they would appreciate drinking wine out of the bottle or in a mug or water glass. Some people can be so fussy.

That is all. Disperse.