Things Fall Apart
I actually had a little momentum going yesterday morning in that hardest part of a project: the getting started; the getting of the sheer weight of an object at rest moving in any direction at all, breaking the resistance of inertia that keeps a thing where it is and nowhere else. And then my engine stopped ginning. The home network started acting wonky, I couldn’t share files, and the laptop browser slugged down to a crawl, and more. Must have been something I broke, I assumed.
But later–much later and many grumblings late into the day (thankfully Ann wasn’t here to witness) I found out it was some random change in my firewall. And Trend Microsystems PCCillin Internet Security does not come, apparently, with any way to actually speak to someone about your problem. You get a choice of chocolate, vanilla or strawberry to explain your problem. Not one of those? Too bad. By bedtime, I had fixed it by sheer random luck, no thanks to those to whom I paid my money.
So, to say I’m out of blogger rhythm, postless–almost.
But I do have needs. (Don’t I always!) I got back a pdf proof of a notecard from the printer (yep, back to that little project, now seen as a break-even or losing proposition for the purpose of advertizing) and I will probably order a batch of “Winter” cards (five different scenes, pack of 5 for $10 tentatively). Here’s what I need: a supplier for the clear envelopes into which these five 4 x 6 cards go to keep fingerprints off them. Know what I mean? I don’t know where to start looking, so I’m open to suggestions.
And I have happy feet. Got the word in the mail yesterday that Slow Road Home has been nominated for the Library of Virginia 10th Annual Literary Awards Celebration, in the non-fiction category. Which by itself is no great accomplishment as someone merely had to submit some forms for this purpose. But it will at least get the book on the Library’s website and promotional poster, along with the names of the bigshot writers from the Commonwealth. I’ll accept validation by association, even if it is to merely pass through the shadow of the Top Dogs.
And I should tell you, I hunkered down and ordered that cussed lens collar I was whining about last week. So this will be a busy UPS delivery week as I spend down my Goose Creek Press account putting my wee profits back into equipment, software and supplies before the Tax Man comes calling. Break even was my goal, and after deducting for almost 5000 book-related travel miles since May, I should come pretty close.