Today’s picture is my silverware organizer full of washi tape, because I put my tablet in the charger before I remembered to take a picture for this blog, and the super sticky note on the top of my monitor looks like this, to remind me that I have but two purposes in life this day:
Depending on screen resolution, and legibility of handwriting, this note has but two tasks on it: blog, and final galley. My computer desk is literally only inches away from the TV (that I still do not know how to turn on, but with So You Think You Can Dance being on, and Ink Master, my two favorite summer shows, coming on next week, I am going to have to learn) where Real Life Romance Hero is watching an episode of Bar Rescue for at least the second time. Our downstairs neighbor is sharing their music. Our tastes do not completely align, but are close enough that we do not need to object. The apartment smells strongly of flea bomb, and I have already helped RLRH wrestle the bug-corpse-littered underside of our futon into a trash bag.
RLRH is also making me lunch (perks of having a former pro around the house) and he expressed proper admiration over the final-final=final title page of Chasing Prince Charming. It’s been a while since I’ve been at this stage, of looking at a final-final-final galley proof. The work is both divided in half and doubled, writing with a partner, because we both have to/get to go over every single word, then compare notes before we can give a collective, united thumbs up. Better safe than sorry, though, so I am not going to complain.
After we clear this hurdle, once we get our release date, we level up and start the next phase. Promo. We get to pick out swag, obtain the same, (I am strongly in favor of pens, for obvious reasons, namely that my blood type is “ink”) and poke around the interwebs to see where we can find creative new ways to say “hi, we wrote a book. Maybe you want to buy it.”
Once we pull the trigger on this one, our emphasis shifts also to getting Drama King to its HEA point, and laying the foundations for Queen of Hearts. I liken it to putting the kindergartener on the school bus, so attention now shifts to the baby. Babies really, as I also have Her Last First Kiss, but I am only co-parenting one of them, because I’m flying solo for historicals.
Someone asked me recently if writing contemporaries is easier than writing historicals, and my answer was that it’s different. Yes, they are different subgenres, but the main thing for me is that I am co-writing the contemporaries, and writing the historicals on my own, so I don’t know that I could truly make a comparison unless I tried to write a solo contemporary (not feeling that at the moment, but never say never) and Melva has not expressed any interest to write historical (again, never say never, I can’t speak for her, and co-writing historicals with a different partner would be a completely different experience, to which I would not say a categorical no.)
Where was I going with that again? I have no idea, but I will keep going, because, when I have this entry posted, I am halfway done with my work for the day. From the kitchen, I hear rattles of dishes, which may portend lunch from my own personal chef, so I am going to leave this here, have a quick lunch date at home, and then back to the final-final-final proof. Not a bad plan for the day.