11.11.23

Curses and/or Blessings


This self-publishing lurk can get a bit fraught! But sometimes what seems bad can turn out good.


Bad


A kind friend volunteered to organise a place for me to have my book launch. I followed up with a phone call; all seemed good. Then COVID happened, and then major flooding happened. The place was closed for months for renovations, and to raise it above flood level. When it reopened, I finally went to look it over and immediately realised it wouldn’t be big enough. The manager, a very nice woman, was cool about the sudden cancellation. Then I had to scramble to find another venue.


I soon realised I would need Public Liability insurance for most places, which I don’t have. 


Good


I approached Pottsville Beach Neighbourhood Centre, where I’ve volunteered for a number of years, running writing workshops, and also was on the Committee for a while, to see if I could hire one of their rooms. The Centre Manager, Angela, thought their spaces wouldn’t be big enough either, but suggested that because of my volunteer status they could sponsor the event, which is related to the work I’ve done for them, and cover me for Public Liability somewhere else. My local Community Centre is an ideal space, and available, so that's where it's  happening. Whew!





Bad


Because of the printing delay I mentioned in my last update, I had to move the launch date a couple of weeks. I'd intended to have it on my 84th birthday on November 12.

It's now happening on November 25th – bringing it close enough to Christmas that people are starting to get a bit careful about where they spend their money. I’m releasing the three books as a package deal. Even at 20% discount, with signed copies and all, it’s a big ask at this time of year. Also everyone starts to get a bit busy now. Among other things, it means that a geographically distant friend, who had been going to visit me at the time of the launch, can’t come now that the date has been moved. She’ll make it up here later, which is lovely, and still wants the books, but it’s a disappointment to us both.


Even worse


Two of the men whose work is featured in Blood from Stone and who are also part of the story I tell in the memoir, one a particularly close friend for many years, died before I could send them copies of the books, which I had much looked forward to doing – one suddenly, after a fall; the other after a year-long illness which it had appeared he was at last overcoming. If I hadn’t been delayed by having to do a reprint, they would have received the books in good time to have a read.


Good?


The men who died knew the books were happening, and approved. One had even read the first draft of the memoir and pronounced it good.


However, the times I deal with in the books were long ago for them, and painful to revisit. If they had to leave us, perhaps it’s better that, as it turned out, they didn’t have occasion to revisit that painful past yet again via the published books. At least, it’s some small comfort to think so.


Bad


I discovered some imperfections in Blood from Stone and realised that this too had been produced in the wrong version, before final proofing and corrections – too late now to order a reprint. 


Good-ish


Those who have seen the printed book tell me nothing leaps out at them. I realise most of the typos are things which might be noticed, but the reader's mind would skip over, automatically supplying the corrections. 


There are two typos to which that wouldn't apply – one changes the meaning of what is said – but I have been able to type the correct versions in matching font, and am painstakingly cutting and pasting them in manually over the mistakes – in every copy! Tedious and time-consuming, but I don't choose to let the books go out with crucial errors.


Ironic? Spooky?


The dream, or rather nightmare about the launch, which I recounted in my previous post, included this:


 I looked for a copy of the memoir to read something from that as planned. The only copy I could put my hands on was wrapped in a sheet of paper on which the head of the printer’s production team had written all the reasons why he could not completely carry out my instructions for corrections, and what he had done instead. The book itself was a mess! Some of the corrections were on pages badly pasted over the old ones. Others he hadn’t done at all. And that was the only copy I could find. I clutched it, aghast, with no idea what to do next.


In real life, the book doesn’t look a mess; all the books look beautiful. And it's not the memoir but the anthology in which some errors are uncorrected and others are (neatly!) pasted over. But I can't help thinking that was something of a psychic dream.


Bad


You can’t find these books on Amazon yet. When I did my survey as to whether people wanted paperbacks or ebooks, the overwhelming majority preferred paperbacks. I was advised it would be cheaper to do a print run than POD, so I estimated what I thought I could sell and ordered that number. When I get rid of them, I’ll go to POD and ebooks. 


In the past, being a lover of ebooks myself, I have wished authors wouldn’t wait until after the release of their paperbacks to bring out the ebooks. Now I understand why!


Good


It’s my intention they will be available through Amazon later. Meanwhile, I’ve set up a business account which I’ll link to my PayPal, and there will be a link on my website for you to order your copies. Just let me get through the forthcoming local launch first. Then I’ll let all you people who don’t live in the same town as me (or even the same country in many cases) know the details. I’m looking at doing a Zoom launch for you, too! 


Hang in there, and I will keep you posted.



20.10.23

OMG! NIGHTMARE!



Don’t worry, it was a literal nightmare, not a metaphorical one. But horrifying while I was experiencing it. 


I wouldn’t be a bit stressed about these books, by any chance?


Background


The local printer I chose is not primarily a book printer, also some of her equipment was wrecked last year in the latest and worst of our recent big floods, so she currently sends those jobs out to what she calls her production team. They do a beautiful job of the physical production; however they managed to print the wrong version of the memoir – the one BEFORE I had corrected the hard copy printer’s proof. This has meant a reprint, at no extra cost to me. That took the printer, who was as upset as I was, some time to negotiate. I was then asked to go through and highlight particular pages where the correct version differed from what I got. After that it seemed to take forever, and I have been getting toey because I'm eager to send out review copies, invitations to the launch, etc. I'm releasing the three books as a package, so the other two titles have had to wait until this one is finalised.


We had definite word the books would be with the printer last Friday and with me by Monday. This did not happen. Following my Tarot reading, indicating that someone was sitting on them, I phoned the printer. She contacted the production team again, and was told they had been dispatched, but only yesterday. I will get them today. Whew! (Part of me says I'll believe it when I see it.)

That's what I went to sleep with.


In the nightmare ...


The book launch was taking place at my friend Maureen’s home. 


In real life this has never been the planned venue. But Maureen has always been very supportive of me, and did a lot of fund-raising to help get me to Texas in 2006 when I was a guest of the Austin International Poetry Festival – which provided my accommodation while I was there, and other perks, but not my travelling costs from Australia. I can see how the dream would have come up with this scenario, particularly as I have had to find a new venue at short notice for the launch of these books. 


All was going well. The guests took refreshment, seated around long tables, while an old friend of Maureen’s and mine said lovely things about me in a launching speech. Stacks of the three books which make up my ‘trilogy’ were dotted around the room for people to purchase later. Then suddenly Maureen told me there wasn’t much time left, as the speechifier had gone on a bit long, and people were expecting the event to end shortly. I looked for a copy of the memoir to read something from that as planned. The only copy I could put my hands on was wrapped in a sheet of paper on which the head of the printer’s production team had written all the reasons why he could not completely carry out my instructions for corrections, and what he had done instead. The book itself was a mess! Some of the corrections were on pages badly pasted over the old ones. Others he hadn’t done at all. And that was the only copy I could find. I clutched it, aghast, with no idea what to do next.  


Thankfully, I then woke up.


Yes, I am anxious. I had asked to see a hard copy proof of the corrected version but that request got lost somewhere. The printer assures me she has checked everything very carefully this time. I won’t be happy until they are delivered this afternoon and I can go through the reprint in detail.


(Meanwhile I am hosting the online community Poets and Storytellers United today, preparing for a post-class review of my latest Reiki II students at my home in two days' time, choosing one of my Beltane poems for the next gathering of the local Goddess circle, and drafting a launch invitation as well as a press release for potential book reviewers. Slowing down in my senior years? Not much.)



Image in the Public Domain.  Edvard Munch, 1893, The Scream, oil, tempera and pastel on cardboard, 91 x 73 cm, National Gallery of Norway.jpg