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The first signing is today. The first signing for the paperback release of Cerulean Sins, that is. I add that so no one gets the idea that Incubus Dreams is coming out earlier than it is. That’s still end of the month. Thank God.
I have so much work to do before I vanish into tour for weeks at a time. Some writers can work on tour. I have not been one of them up until now, but I’m going to give it the ol’ college try. We’ll see. I know that I’ll be a lot happier with my deadlines if I didn’t loose all that time on the book.
We’re doing an event in Springfield, Illinois tonight, and an event at the Borders in Brentwood tomorrow night. It’s sort of a micro-mini tour for Cerulean’s paperback release. My publisher hopes that it will boost sales. That and the collectible postcard in the paperbacks. Yeah, limited edition postcards, four of them, and to get all four you’d have to buy four different copies of Cerulean in paperback. Sorry about that. I think we did auction some postcards for charity but that’s over with, I believe.
Anyway, I am going to try and write. Then must exercise, cardio today, so treadmill. Did you know that the treadmill was originally a torture device (French I believe). It was discontinued on the grounds of cruel and unusual or some such. And here we are buying one, and using it voluntarily. Something so wrong with that. Then shower and clean up. Make up. The dress, the shoes, the jewelry, the outfit. I’m trying to wear things for these two events that I couldn’t wear on the larger tour, because of color or cut . . . I e, they wouldn’t look good on me on television. Or somethings just don’t pack well. Too bulky, or wrinkle like hell. Yes, most better hotels do have laundry and dry cleaning services, but you can’t always count on when you’ll get your clothes back. Some clothing wrinkles badly on a two hour plane flight. Not good for tour.
On top of all the other stuff, one of Trinity’s hermit crabs had decided to have trouble with it’s molt, and Jon is off trying to find sand soft enough for it to bury down in. Frankly, I fear Bluebell the crab is not long for this mortal world. Trin took it pretty well, but that’s because the crab is still kicking. By the time she comes home from school, it may not be, and Jon and I won’t be here. Grandma Mary will be meeting her off the bus. Trin has usually taken it very hard when she looses so much as a fish, and the crabs are more interactive than a fish. I hate to saddle Mary with the trauma, and I hate to leave Trinity without us, when dealing with it. But we’ll be on our way to Springfield, for the signing, when she gets off the bus. Maybe she’ll take it well, or maybe the crab will pull through.
I’ll see everybody at the signing tonight and tomorrow, and even more of you on the larger tour in a few weeks. See you then.