I'm going to the Mark Twain** House again and I'm doing an hour's presentation on the various sorts of Publishing Processes I Have Known.
There's a link to the schedule (looks like their blogspot is having the same trouble mine had before. An ad pops up every time you link to it. Delete that sociable feature and you're all set, Twain House people.)
I think I can talk about that topic for about three hours without repeating information, but I haven't organized any of it. Instead I'm at long last editing a story that Toni L., the best proofreader ON THE PLANET, is helping me with.
She returned the manuscript to me weeks ago but I was avoiding it because I hated that story last time I looked at it. Turns out having to organize a talk is even more daunting and unpleasant so I opened the document at long last.
All this means that the universal truth still holds: If you have a job you loathe, line yourself for an even more dreaded task. That first job will immediately grow far more appealing.
I hope I see you tomorrow. If I seem disorganized, let's blame Toni.
**I know, right? But then I remember he had moments as a fictioneer as well. And dammit, my words are not piled high or steaming except in the best sense of the word.