Authors Electric

Me, far left, failing to look inconspicuous onstage  with fellow  Chicago Quarterly Review readers Dinner with friends is my limit when it comes to social gatherings. Parties bore me. Conferences terrify me. I turn my name tag around and try for invisibility. Sooner or later, however, somebody asks the question I like least: "What do you do?" "I'm a writer," I respond, my mouth dry, unwillingly, but I can't deny my calling after all. As a 20-something smart-ass, I used to answer: "I sell health insurance for pets." That's a real thing now that veterinaries charge as much as brain surgeons. Then comes the follow-up: "What have you written?" I know it's just making conversation. Nature hates a vacuum. Nonetheless, I break into a neurotic sweat. I imagine the questioner thinking: If you're a writer how come I haven't heard of you? I need a warm-up act. I name some titles, not that any will strike up the band:...

Episode Two: The Great Age of Print. I’m currently wearing too many hats, spreading myself too thin and working to a deadline that may well kill me (whoever said hard work doesn’t kill may, I’m starting to think, be wrong) I have 16 books to get through to print/ebook production by 16 th Feb and another 16 by 16th March. Like I said, I’m a bit overworked. And so I came to write my Feb blog thinking  *%%^**& (apologies for the cliché).  But luckily, being brought up on a diet of Blue Peter, I  discovered one I almost made earlier. It is, horror of horrors a ‘first draft’ (not sure blog posts should really have ‘drafts’ but you may well care to differ once you’ve read this! Though I would like to ‘polish’ it or ‘amend’ it or just make it GOOD in some way, (by cutting it to half the length?) I really don’t have time so sorry folks, you’ll just have to mine the nuggets yourself. The title promises much. Can I deliver? I doubt it.  But can I just start by ...