Monday, June 3, 2013

Guest Blogger - Alice Duncan



Why Does Everything Happen At Once?
 
Before I get into the topic of this month’s blog, let me say that something great happened: I have a new audiobook available! Wheeeee! This one is SIERRA RANSOM. It’s an historical romance novel set during the California Gold Rush in 1852 or thereabouts. It features Zenobia Gray and Sam Ransom. It’s narrated by my very OLD friend, Jim Hull, and he’s good. The book’s good, too. Honest! Here’s the cover and where you can buy it:


 

 

 

Now. Down to business. This month’s blog is on the frustrating topic: Why does everything happen at once? Naturally, I’m talking about my own life here, but I’ll bet I’m not the only one to whom this happens.

 

For months, I’ve been twiddling my thumbs, begging for work, writing bits and pieces of my own book, and wishing I had work that I actually got paid to do. I know not all writers write the same way. Some can sit all day long, writing and writing and writing. I can write for about an hour or an hour and a half, and that’s it. The well’s dry. Mind you, I can pump out five-ten pages in that hour, and I wish I could write all day long. Heck, if I could, I could write a billion books a year. Well, maybe not quite a billion, and I’d still be unable to make a living at it, but my output would increase significantly.

 

No, I make most of my money from editing. I edit for a well-respected publishing company, but I can make real money from folks who can afford to have their books edited by a competent editor before they self-publish. There aren’t many people who want to do this, because nobody likes spending money. And there are more iffy editors out there than there are good ones. I’m a good one. This isn’t a boast. It’s the truth. There’s only one thing I do well in this world, and it’s use the English language. Well, and collect stray dachshunds, but that’s more of a curse than a blessing.

 

This year, things have been dry. Dry, dry, dry. I live in Roswell, New Mexico, and we’re halfway into our third year of the worst drought ever. That’s bad enough, but this year too, nobody’s wanted me to do any work. NOBODY. Not the publisher and not individuals. No one. Zero. Zilch.

 

Until May. Then EVERYONE decided they wanted me to edit their books. I was thrilled to death when the first person approached me. She had written what may well be the World’s Longest Book, and she wanted me to edit it. Wheee! I could go to California for my—wait for it—50th!—high school reunion! Wow. Then another person asked me to edit his book. His isn’t the World’s Longest Book, because, after all, there can only be one of those, but it’s real, live, paying work.

 

Then the publisher for whom I work suddenly wanted me to edit four books. And the company (ePublishing Works) I’m using to repackage and promote my first six Daisy Gumm Majesty novels sent me the first book (STRONG SPIRITS) to review. With the promise that the other five Daisy books will be sent to me at approximately twenty-day intervals.

 

Then there were the two Roswell Humane Society meetings I had to attend, weekly choir practice, and rehearsals for 2013’s Concert of American Music, which we’ll be singing on June 30. Rehearsals began—you got it—last week.

 

Gulp. So okay. I’ve been really busy lately, and I’m going to be even busier before I leave for California and my reunion on June 19th. But, what the heck, in the life of a writer/editor, I guess it’s better to be busy than not, although sometimes I do wish things would even out. Ya know?

 

Please enter my contest this month, during which I’ll be giving away a couple of copies of FALLEN ANGELS, Mercy Allcutt’s third adventure (which won the New Mexico/Arizona Book of the Year Award for mystery/suspense). And what the heck, I’ll give away an audio copy of SIERRA RANSOM, too. Feel free to visit my web site: www.aliceduncan.net and my Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/alice.duncan.925?ref=tn_tnmn

 

Thanks!

No comments:

Post a Comment

Guest Blogger - Alice Duncan

September? Really? It doesn’t seem quite fair that, the older I get, the faster time seems to fly. I remember sitting in schoolrooms wh...