I had a six-hour surgery last month, and the recovery is proving to be slower than I imagined. I think in a civilized country they would allow you to stay in the hospital for more than one night after an ordeal like that, but this is not such a nation.
However, a couple of days after the whole mess, my book came in the mail. The publisher was nice enough to send along six advance copies, and they were pretty exciting to see. The book that I struggled with and lived with and eventually hated is a real, physical thing now. I suppose it was all worth it in the end.
Of course, the next book they offered me I turned down. And by turned down I mean I demanded three times the fee I got for the first one and refused to budge, knowing that there was no way I'd get it.
I think this is the last non-fiction print book that I want to do. EVER. I'm working on a new ebook that I want to sell on Kindle and I am expanding the existing ebook that I sell on my own site to create another Kindle book. I'm aiming to have both available for Kindle during the summer. I'm also moving a little on my fiction writing. And by moving I mean thinking about writing it. Hey, it's progress. Sort of.
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