Sunday, March 4, 2012


I jumped out of bed last night with nagging thoughts of how demanding this business of publishing a book had become. There were forms that required personal information, emails to be sent, press releases, websites for inquiry and blogs to post, etc.

Well, it has become bigger than the writing and bigger than me. Writing is a meditative thing-a sedentary practice. With a quiet exertion of the mind, thoughts flow into words without strict guidelines and eventually produce a finished work. The din I now hear pushes me into a promotional frenzy where personal data, publishing dates and commercial deadlines are required.  If you want your book to stand a chance of reaching the vast audience of readers, you need to expose it to as many venues as possible. Commercialism grabs your leisurely writing brain and changes it into a frenzied robot that clamors, “WARNING! WARNING! WARNING, WILL ROBINSON! PROMOTE! PROMOTE! PROMOTE!”

It was late in the evening before I could get back to sleep. And this morning, even before coffee, I went on line to see if there were any more urgent instructions before I got Lost in Space again.  

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