Part of the process for selling a book is not writing any new ones. So it seems as I sit here on a night where nothing new has left the keyboard in about 20 days. Except edits. And applications for credit. And corporate bank accounts. And credit cards.
Huh? Yeah, all that stuff has to be in place if you want to sell books. I have a publisher, and they handle all of the icky tax stuff on their end. But if I want to take a case (or 20) of my books and go to an independent book event at a church/community center/Kiwanis, etc., I have to collect sales tax. Not only that, but my accountant (who is a wise man who also likes a good French dip sandwich) has made it clear to me that I should have a unique bank account for my writing endeavors. This requires a unique credit card for charging books, catering, hotel rooms when I travel far to sign books, a Paypal account to sell autographed copies on line, and a state sales tax number. Tomorrow we tackle that one – and see what I have to do to cross the border and sell books in another state.
The moron chip? That little bugger is firing along randomly, throwing wrenches into the works. Much like a squirrel distracted by shiny objects, this author can’t seem to work on the final edit of another book, or write anything in the new ones (last count, 7 of them) while doing all this other junk. Even worse, a few advance copies went out – and the typos and twisted grammar rolled right back in to my email account.
It’s terribly embarrassing to have anything that’s been edited, and reread, this many times still have sttupid errors. Like two “t”s in the word stupid. I was smiling along, looking at the past editions of this written train wreck and found a horrendous typo. Okay, it was one word in thousands that was a homonym (no, that’s not a gay word…) but it made me see red for a few minutes.
I am going to make up for it soon. I will actually write something this week. Between the meeting with my Pastor over maybe selling books at our church and the doctor’s appointment for hypertension, I not only need God, but I evidently need more medication. As a result, I’m doubling up on the meds, doubling down on the snow shoveling, and hitting my knees for some additional prayer.
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