I had a blast. I had an assistant and let me tell you, that made a lot of difference. She could circulate and act as ambassador, chat up people who came to the table, help people one-click buy the e-books:
The event planners, For the Love of Books and Alcohol, http://fortheloveofbooksandalcohol.com/ did an outstanding job with planning and execution. I would follow them anywhere and plan to do so (Boston in 2018 and Dublin 2019. Need to finish paying my table fees).
Let me share some pictures.
In addition to the usual swag, the healing bracelet line I’m introducing, Wearable Magick, made its bow. One bracelet was pre-ordered and one was donated to a silent auction.
And I connected.
The QR codes from the previous post worked! I’ve gotten some more followers for both Susan and Monique.
I will be paying better attention to my readers (all 10 of you), newsletters, etc. The bottom line here is that it sparked my motivation. You will be hearing from me. And reading more stuff.
And that’s about it.
I owe a blog post, a short story, more on “Baldie Chronicles” (or whatever the hell it’s going to be).
The well is dry.
Dry, dryer, driest. Like Atacama desert dry (there are places in the Atacama that have never been rained on. 4 billion years is a long time to be thirsty).
If writer’s block was a block of cheese, no problem. I’d eat that sumbitch and look for seconds. Especially if it was cheddar and accompanied by a Honeycrisp apple.
If writer’s block was an engine block, you could hook it up to get a jump start from someone else. Nope. My writing engine is as dead as my previous car, Yaz, who died in spectacular fashion June 13, 2016.
If writer’s block was a Lego block, it would be embedded in my foot right now.
If it was a politician, it would be hiring a lawyer right about now.
(I may be off my game, but I’m still funny as hell)
(I originally wrote this for May 22. Wrote it as a page, not a post. Yeah. That kind of day)
So, under “Monique DeSoto,” I released “Patti Goes to the Dungeon”recently. 99 cent short story, sold a whopping ten copies, but still…
(99 cents. Go buy the damned story. $.99 won’t bankrupt you and you’ll laugh your butt off. Here, let me help…)
I’m getting asked for the next one.
This is the moment when a lot of authors talk about how they get inspired and motivated and go a week without sleep pounding the keyboard to meet the demand of their fans.
I’m like some Douglas Adams character that only functions when you don’t look at it directly. Very strange mental block, I must admit. But then again, I’ve never done things the way most folks do. I got in trouble in kindergarten. A lot, actually, but in this case, we were told to draw a brown bear with a black outline. I drew a blue bear with a brown outline (my fashion sense wasn’t fully developed. I didn’t know you don’t put blue with brown). I did my own thing.
My point is that I had a bunch of ideas for more funny erotica. After all, I want to turn this into a collection. Had I written them before the reviews came in, I’d be golden. Maybe some editing, but they’d have flown.
Now that people are looking, I’ve gone dry.
“(Yes, Folks! She thinks she can make a living at this!” “Yeah, right!”)
So, ahead of For Love of Books and Florida, July 15 in Sarasota, I will produce the next Monique DeSoto short story. I will start scribbling it tonight (I MUST start with pen and paper. It’s a jump start to the creative process).
And not choke.