There and Back Again

Bkack Kath's Daughter-2So no blog posts for last week. Some of you may have noticed, and for those who did, I figured I owed an explanation. For those who didn’t notice, you can safely ignore this entire first paragraph and skip to the next. Saves time. The blog was interrupted by the real world last week, in that I had to take a trip to a site in another state to help close it down. Sad work, that, and also very physically demanding. By the time I got back to my hotel room each day I was too wiped out to do anything constructive. I only managed to get in my guitar practice once, and that barely so. The one time I got finished a little early, it was off to a Teavana® and Godiva® stores, respectively, to make sure I didn’t return home empty-handed on Valentine’s Day. I also stopped at Guitar Center to look at acoustics out of my price range. I’m only a little ashamed of that.

After that, it was home to a different sort of worry. I received an email from PS Publishing telling me it was cover copy, bio, and picture time for To Break the Demon Gate. Cover copy and bio time isn’t a big thing. I can usually find something to say about a book after I’ve written it. It’s when they want such things before it’s written that I usually have trouble. No, the thing that gets me every time is when publishers want a picture. And I think why? Don’t you want to sell books? All by way of saying that I am not the most photogenic person I know. Cameras haven’t liked me since the first time I went to college. I don’t know why. I can’t recall anything I’ve ever done to them, but there it is. The last decent picture of me was taken around 1977, when I had long hair and looked slightly stoned even though I almost never was. Since then it has been all downhill. I keep hoping publishers will forget about wanting a picture. They never do. So it goes.

Yes, that it is a high class sort of worry. It doesn’t rank anywhere near “I don’t know where I’m going to sleep tonight” or “Am I going to eat tomorrow?” but it still manages to be a concern. I should be a better person than that, but I’m just shallow that way. Feet of clay, soul of washi. I am, like everyone else, still a work in progress. Maybe one day I’ll do better.