You already know I”m high maintenance. Which I detest. I hate taking care of myself. I used to love soaking in the tub, doing my hair, removing hair off my toes, waxing my moustache (oh be quiet. everyone gets hair there.) Painting my toenails…

Now I find it way too time consuming. I could be doing other productive things like writing, or reading, or cleaning my house or playing with my dog. I could even clean all the gunk out of my bellybutton ring hole to keep the hole open even though I don’t wear a belly button ring anymore because it gets too infected.

So now let’s talk about my knee.

Three months ago (June?) we went to North Carolina for a holiday. I sat around a lot. I did do some running,  but mostly it was all on one night when I was mad at hubby for something ridiculous which I can’t remember right now, but was probably because he ate all the chocolate or something.  And when we got back, I was strawberry picking and then I felt an intensely sharp pain behind my right knee cap. Something dreadful and wouldn’t go away.  So after a few days of awfulness I dragged my butt to my poor doctor who usually hears from me once a week (actually that would be his lovely nurse receptionist who hears from me, but it’s not usually a problem with me, it could be with Dan or the gaffer but let’s just say we have a great relationship and I butter her up with hot chocolates and strawberry jam) who told me I stressed it and to put some weird anti-inflammatory cream on my knee four times a day. This cream was not cream but oily goo that was impossible to rub in.  Anyhoo, three months went by and I finally went to a physiolady. Guess who has no tissue behind her right knee cap?

Me!

So now I”m on physio exercises for my knee cap. And am still on physio for the same knee for something else I can’t remember but can’t do it because they contradict each other. And I still do physio for my left shoulder which I tore tree climbing.

I have decided I am slowly falling apart. And it’s very annoying… and I don’t have time for this.

So… coming to my book launch or what?

reading: um… Corsets and Clockworks or something.

listening to: hubby clean the tub. because I can’t kneel.

watching: the dog stare at me as she waits for me to play with her…

I’m terribly flattered but get worried when people ask me to look at their work. Sure, I’ll look, but it doesn’t mean I have an educated opinion. Nor does it mean that if I like it, it’ll get published. And in case you were wondering, there is an unwritten rule that authors do not pass on manuscripts to their own agents or publishers.  Why? Two reasons I think. And I could be wrong. Because no one told me the answers.

1) authors work their darndest (is that a word?) to get published on their own. It is not easy. You get a lot of rejections and it hurts. It’s tough work and definitely worth the effort. It makes you stronger and gives you thicker skin. Why would you want to let someone else have the easy road? Maybe it is the green-eyed monster, but you fought tooth and nail to get published. So should everyone else.

2) the green-eyed monster.  Oh yes.  See, authors are supposed to be encouraging each other, but it is so hard! Because you look at your own book and think quietly to yourself: why didn’t I get more publicity? Why aren’t my books doing as well? Why didn’t I get another advance for a sequel? It’s hard! It’s rare to get encouragement on your own book (encouragement you can actually believe: I don’t know how many people tell me they are so excited for me and oh, no, I haven’t read your book yet… ouch.) so when you hear people ooh and aah over someone else’s book, it makes you nervous. Add when your own agent goes on and on about someone else’s book that they represent. Ouch. So you swallow thickly, possible inhale a chocolate bar and lift your chin higher.  If a friend of yours writes an amazing book … deep down you don’t want them published. Because what if they do better than you? See how awful and shallow this is?  I will freely reveal my own ugliness when a friend of mine released a CD. I was very green-eyed monster about it because yes, my book was coming out next year and yes, we aren’t even in the same genre for goodness sakes, but I was jealous! Isn’t that awful? So I made sure to make myself talk about how awesome she is and made sure to do my part during her CD launch party. I was so proud of her, so so proud of her, I mean, she’s brilliant! But deep down … I wanted encouragement of my own.  Wow. Do I look shallow. Let me be the first to admit my own shallowness … at times.

(Ok, I need to change the station. I do not want to listen to Charlie Sheen’s interview. Honestly CBC?)

Ok, this wasn’t the point of my post. The thing is, I got my royalty statement yesterday. This is the piece of paper that tells you how your book is doing. How many copies were sold in the States (because I have an American publisher), how many exported (ie Canada), how many e-books and how many ‘special deals’ (I have no idea what that means, incidentally). 

It wasn’t great. I did sell well, however, there were some returns. So let’s say I sold 2,000 books in the states (I wish!), it would say, I sold 2,000. And then right beside that, would be the (400) returns, meaning I actually only sold 1,600 books.  Except I think that I should be looking at last quarters’ sales for the returns. I think.  Anyways, for some reason I sold 3x the amount in Canada then in the U.S. (how is that even possible?). And it wasn’t a lot. I mean, it’s a lot-ish, but not what I was hoping. So it made me worry about whether the second book would still be coming out, if I’d ever get to write a third, if I was crap … stuff like that. These are things writers worry about. Incessantly.

So what did I do?

I ate two pieces of Toblerone.  And then gave it to God.

Honestly? I wrote the book because I was led to write it. It’s up to Him as to whether it does well or not.  Aaaaaaaand, as if I need to remind myself, I got to go to Paris. That was my goal. Tick, tick. Book published, Paris visited.

And I firmly reprimand myself to work on adult fiction now. NOW! Seriously, get on it!

And the good news?

I got to see the cover of Book 2. And I have no idea why the title won’t come up….

 Listening to: the bathtub and my child making fart noises

Drinking: market spice tea with Splenda. I know.

Watching: Glee. Fully addicted.

Reading: Armageddon

We had a most interesting conversation about the second print.  I never knew what that meant. What second print means is once the bookstore sells out and orders more copies. They only print what has been pre-ordered.  So I’ll have a new cover. Hm.  And a tagline. Which is a sentence they put on the cover of the book.  I was asked to come up with a tagline for the second book and I was like, “hm.. ah… huh.”  I don’t think they’ll print that.

In other news, my book comes out soon.

Ohmygoodness. 

reading:  Perfectly Dateless by Kristin Billerbeck  (for a review)

watching: pathetically, Bachelorette. I thought it was hometown date and I wanted to see if Ally brought them to her dead grandmother’s house.

eating: greek salad with couscous

listening to: strangely nothing.  I usually have music going but at the moment, I’m not noticeing. Does that mean I’m changing? Oof, I hope not.

the book won’t be in Canada until August 31st. BOOOOO!!!! Not terribly happy about that, but I can’t do anything about it so I’ll just sneak down to the US and gaze at it fondly at the bookshelf at Barnes and Noble.

I ‘think’ I’ve figured out my whole ‘Miss Flaversham’ thing. Which is very cool for me but crazy for you because I can’t tell you any of it.  Except that it’ll be good.

My sweet, darling, wonderful husband bought me a prezzie.  The new Kindle.  Oh I was so excited and not expecting it at all!  It took me a little while to figure out how to work it, and to find the free books area, so now I have 10 books downloaded (all free and classics) so now I get to read with it. But at the moment I’m reading Harry Potter in paperback.  I love that book. Not just because of the story but because it’s the first book my husband ever bought me.  It was on the way to a show I had to do for Almonte Valley Players and we’d always stop in at the Mac’s Milk and get a grape crush so I could burp away my nervousness before starting. (I am amazing on stage, but before I go on? I’m a mess.) And there it was, sitting by the cash.  We didn’t have very much money, but he bought it for me. It was 10$.  I married well.  That man knows my heart, inside and out.

Ok, I have some writing to do.  Many chapters to meld but I’m up to 34,000 words! Yay!

Listening to: the clock ticking behind me. It’s making me a little crazy. Need music, I think. CBC radio?

Reading: Harry Potter, first book.  And my Kindle!

Watching: tonight? So You Think You Can Dance!

Eating: crackers and brie. And a venti, soy, no water, no foam, tazo chai.

However, it won’t be coming to Canada for three weeks after that. Which makes no sense to me at all. Which means I will be dragging my husband down to Syracuse to the nearest Barnes and Noble to see my book on the shelf.  I’m sure a trip to ProBass will be in order as well.  But the really cool news? My book is going to be sold at Costco! Isn’t that amazing? I don’t even know how that happened.  Brilliant editor Kathleen said it was because of the video. Which I actually didn’t think was that great, but aren’t we all our own worst critic? I’ll post it once I figure out how.

Today I have a sales marketing meeting. In 5 minutes.  To talk about the marketing plans. So why am I so nervous? I have nervous poops.  I hate that. Granted, I always feel better after going (is that too much info?) but it still sucks.

The writing: going well I think. I’m sorta stuck on the tree fort part. Should I take it out? Should he find another room in one? Should there be a fight scene?  sigh.

I was reading my book last night (did I mention they came??? I have to download the photos but they are currently stored in hubby’s phone and can’t find adaptor) and man… it’s good. I don’t want to brag but it’s soo good. And now I am suffering from ‘this isn’t goodenoughitis’.

Or something.

1 minute to meeting.

wish me luck.