Thursday, September 8, 2011
Do not operate heavy machinery after writing a book
Ask yourself: Why bother getting shwashted on cosmopolitans when you can simply pull a week's worth of consecutive all-nighters, staring blankly at a computer screen and looking up words like "overhang" and "woolly" because your vocabulary has dwindled to Dr. Seuss proportions and you can't recall the meaning of anything. That's right: finishing a book = feeling drunk all the time, not that I'd know what that's like, and damn right, I'm NOT going to use punctuation or proper sentence structure because PUNCTUATION IS THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE!
I will, however, strategically use line breaks where appropriate and/or inappropriate.
What is the point of this post-post-post-modern post?
It is to document, in unabashedly incoherent terms, that I have, officially, beyond all reasonable doubt, finished Unnaturally Green.
And believe me this time: it's true. I know throughout the process I kept being like, "It's done!" "All I gotsta do is edit this shiznit!" "Check it, editing is so easy, yo!" (because I suddenly began to speak in a strange dialect?) but really that was all a lie. Oh, I didn't know it was a lie at the time; I sincerely believed editing would be a piece o' ice cream cake. But this couldn't be further from the truth.
EDITING SUCKS SO HARD!
It is like playing endless games of pickup sticks and the sticks are smeared with olive oil, and your opponent is really annoying. It is like crossing a shark-filled moat with meat wrapped around your ankles, and the sharks are really annoying. It is like scheduling an endless array of dinner parties, then going to Key Food and trying to find produce that is not ten months old, and then the dinner party guests are really annoying.
It is Le Worst.
But the end-result? A freakin' book, y'all. (I should also mention that I stayed afloat through this process mostly due to incredible help and support from my editors -- including a heroic, last-minute copyeditor who swooped in and turned my mucky prose into freshly manicured sentence-lawns, cutting any and all phrases that made no sense (like this one, for example).)
In short, I have gone insane. But I have decided that, when it comes to book-writing and subsequent self-publishing, insanity is a good thing. Insanity is directly proportional to goodness.
∫ (x) insanity = ∆ goodnessxµøπ, where x = book.
That's right: I'm also a math genius.
If you dare to venture into my insane mind-dungeon, why not take a peek at Chapter 1? It's online and is viewable to select fans. (Instructions here. Enter at your own risk.)
Do you want to know another insane thing? I couldn't sleep last night! After I sent my book to my various printers and distributers, I lay awake like some possessed nut-so, mulling over all my last-minute changes...wondering what I had to do next, for promotion, and shipping, and website programming, and...
In the end, I am confident it will be worth it. Because
∫ (x) confident = ∆ UnnaturallyGreen(x)µøπ, where x = worth.
Until then? I'll be the one singing softly to myself on the street corner, collecting change in a paper cup.