On and on

Lists and lists. I have pages of them. Each day I fill the diary allotment with another, then shape up a new list next day with the leftovers. Crossing items off has never felt so satisfying. But it's dawning on me that I'm never going to be done with these lists. Rosa Mira is a long-term commitment and I'm well past the point of no-return. The world of digital publishing and social media is continually expanding. The number of seminars I can attend, websites explore, links follow, online tools utilise, and media networks pursue roughly equals the number of currants on our bushes this year. It's a bountiful season.

I think the secret route through this maze of possibilities is to do what looks like most fun. Fun is energising. Anxiety (fear of too-muchness) is enervating. Is that too simple a formula? I don't think so. I need to survive this. Better still, thrive.

I love the ebook RMB is soon to publish. I enjoy editing and exchange with writers. I like writing this blog. I'm warming to Twitter, and I look forward to my evening FB exchanges. I love meeting enthusiasts who cheer me on and share their own challenges and pleasures.

Knowing what fires me helps me discriminate. My lists look more enticing already.

And I'm not alone.

Did I say? January. Thanks, everyone, for your patience.

A pause for breath

Setting up Rosa Mira Books has been such an adventure. The work and learning  of the last year have stretched and heartened me, flattened and firmed me up inwardly, given me nightmares and days of quiet exaltation. I've met and consulted and worked with exceptional, generous, encouraging people all the way. No one has told me I'm a fool for doing this. I keep finding in the web community fantastically open-handed people sharing what they've learned and giving practical advice.

I'd hoped to launch at the start of December.

Coral wrote the other week that she tells her publishing students that every publisher's middle name might be 'slippage'. That was strangely heartening if (as I contend) slippage is part and parcel of publishing and not necessarily of the publisher's personality.

For various reasons, most to do with human capacity vs hours available in the week, not to mention the Christmas/year's end/holiday change of gears, I'm delaying the launch of Rosa Mira and The Glass Harmonica until late January. By then our Slightly Peculiar Love Stories should be well into production, all nearly all wrinkles ironed out, and those involved rested, eager, savvy and ready to roll.

Unsprung

Reaching the end of the manuscript — a proofread that was inevitably a copy-edit as well  — I felt like a piece of elastic released from its duty to hold the britches up. I sprang about, disconcerted and happy. Dorothee in Utah will make a last read-through then Christine across town will check the styling and create ePub and PDF files. Across the Tasman a Kindle-friendly version of the novel will be conjured up.

Meanwhile Eion in Dublin and Lorraine in Colorado are reading copies of The Glass Harmonica on Android and PC, in order to toss us a few choice comments to further entice our readers, and in Auckland and Salt Lake City, marketing strategies are being firmed up.  Today I was enticed to join Twitter. Twittering — the antithesis of my habitual self. But I will learn. Tomorrow I'll send a message.

All these things happen at the press of a button (or several). Hourly miracles.

I know I've tried to fix dates before but watch this one: December 2nd. Should be a good day.