“So, it’s your fault he did that?” Debbie asked.
“Well, it was a dare. I didn’t think he’d actually do it,” Judith said.
“What did you think he’d do?” Debbie stared, perplexed, at her best friend. Judith was a scientist, gorgeous, and somehow successful despite being a scatterbrain.
Judith pondered Debbie’s question. “We’ve been dating for 101 days.”
Any author knows the ins and outs, the worries and woes, the joys and jubilation of publishing.
Most authors love the writing part. After all, that’s the fun!
Some authors tolerate the publishing part: agent? editor? mainstream publisher? Indie publishing?
Every author I know dislikes the last part: PROMOTION. I print it in caps but whisper it in tiny letters since it’s a dirty word to many of us.
But promotion is a necessary dirty function of GETTING YOUR BOOK READ by readers besides your best friend and great aunt.
I beg Murial for her mysterious cookie recipe. I asked her five years ago, four years ago, three, two and now. Now, I ask her again as I take a small bite of this delicious, delectable cookie.
I feel light, airy, almost otherworldly, which makes no sense. It’s only a cookie.
Although this post may sound a bit fanciful, or fantastical, or even impossible, it’s 100% true.
Almost 18 months ago, on a cold and snowy January morning, my 10-year-old grandson played Monopoly with me for 2 ½ hours.
That’s not the fantastical part. 
Immediately after, grandson Neville and I baked his favorite cookies: Stickeydoodles (originally called Snickerdoodles but Neville changed the name for reasons you can guess).
That’s not the fanciful part. Continue reading
Ponder a squirrel who is
Eager to be a bird, thus
Tempted to give up a part of himself
Enough to accept a dragonfly’s magic while
Yearning to be like his best bird friends. Continue reading
roughwighting 