Writing is a lot like fishing.

Writing is a lot like fishing, both of which I enjoy very much.  Both are hard work.  And a lot of times you get skunked.  But if you keep trying, eventually you catch something.  I have always been drawn to activities that require far more effort than they offer reward.  I don’t know why this is.  Masochism?  Low self esteem?  Perhaps I’m a bit of a simpleton.

I’ve been Hised!!

Reviewer Cathy Speight

Just after the Evil Mastermind announced my recruitment to his auspicious team, he waited all of five minutes to ‘virtually’ nudge me in the ribs with ‘can you just come on and introduce yourself?’ So here I am, still wondering why such a sparkling, witty and clever writer, would want me on his team, until it hit me. Of course!  He wanted someone on the team that was older than him! Junior Hise is extraordinarily persuasive.  He really is quite hard to say ‘no’ to.  However, I am so very, very glad I was pummelled into submission.  I really am delighted to be here and feel immeasurably privileged to be in the company of talent such as his and his cohorts’. Continue reading “I’ve been Hised!!”

Wanted: Celebrity Endorsement

Tom JonesYesterday I got an email from my publisher letting me know they had accepted my latest work for publication. Awesome. Now that made my day, week, month and maybe even year.

But it also posed a conundrum. I’ve been taking online seminars and reading reports about marketing your wares. It seems if you have a celebrity endorsement you are golden: magazines are more inclined to review or feature your product, and of course the press is more likely to give you coverage. So it makes sense to find a celebrity to review the book, and get it on the back cover before it goes to print.

How exactly does one go about this finding of a celebrity to endorse one’s book? It seems to me you would have to know someone who knows someone…but as far as I know I don’t know anyone who knows anyone. This was going to take some thought, some strategizing and even more networking. I put out the word. Continue reading “Wanted: Celebrity Endorsement”

The Purple Shirt.

They sit, like astronauts in their bubble helmets, reading different magazines that all say the same things…magazines that teach them things no self-respecting old woman should know.  When they talk about Lady Gaga, it makes me inexplicably sad.  I want them to talk about quilts and recipies for pie crust.  I want them to be like Grammy was.  She died years ago, but, I guarantee you, she wouldn’t care about Amy Winehouse.  But they come, and we accept them.  Every Wednesday.  Like clockwork.  We call them the tottering trio.  They are old…they like their hair orange and their hairdressers gayer than a Cher concert.  Tito and I tolerate them because they are consistent.  They are easy.  They pay in full and tip well.  But there is no art in it.  I always secretly hope that they will leave the salon without anyone seeing them.  Their coiffures are not exactly something I am proud to be a part of.

While they sit under the dryers, Tito does his best to avoid making eye contact with me.  He is angry because I said that I liked his shirt.  He wore it to see if I pay attention or to test my sense of aesthetics.  Or something equally stupid.  My assertion…my support of the shimmering purple shirt…is a betrayal, or too cavalier…or something.  And now I will pay for it.  It will start with the cold shoulder.  Not just cold…glacial.  Then there will be long stints in the bathroom with crumpled tissues strategically placed around and red eyes that I will not be allowed to ask about.  I sigh and run my hand over the stubble on my head. Continue reading “The Purple Shirt.”