As you may know yesterday was International Women’s Day. Being a man, I thought I should best be “quiet.” My piling on with my male opinion was hardly necessary.
Now that we are here the day after, I thought I would offer simply this:
Remember my post on writers simply ignoring the existence of copyright as if it somehow doesn’t apply to them? Apparently, Amazon hasn’t caught on yet about James Bond “fan fiction” for sale on the site. Look at this screen capture of an email I recently received:
We know how Amazon works by now. Merely because I’d visited the page for that Saving Mecca in order to write that post, Amazon automatically marketed that book, and others like it, at me. And that’s not the first email such as that I’ve received.
Releasing us to be free to use our mobile devices on board planes has been a real travel blessing and stress reliever. True, most long haul flights now usually have decent entertainment systems. And I usually have a good read of British Airways’s HighLife print magazine, which generally has entertaining articles – including one each month by the BBC’s John Simpson, writing on his travels over the years.
Still, it’s great to be able to just continue to enjoy our own electronics and e-readers, too. For Friday night’s flight to Heathrow, in an “old-fashioned” moment, I’d packed this paperback I’d grabbed off my Catskills bookshelf. I’ve had it for longer than I care to remember, and it has made trips across the Atlantic before….
Down in the dumps again on Friday night into Saturday morning as you know, I slowly came out of it (as has been the case since October) during the day. At one point, reading a bit of “research” material…. I thought, Voilà !
“The garden at Paris” is a phrase used by a real-life character. Since first seeing it, I couldn’t shake it from my mind; it had the potential (I felt) to be more broadly symbolic than used in its actual narrow context. So I’d had it on the title’s “short list” for some time, but I didn’t think it was adequate for the entire title.
Well, I’ve got the Google+ page up and running. (With a bit of help! Thank you, Adele!) Setting it up jogged my memory back to this post from what now seems so long ago December 2013. In it (back when almost no one was reading this blog! 😉 ), I wrote in part:
….Having previously worked in education, and then as a consultant, I have been used to working on my own and sometimes at home. While writing fiction is new to me, my new routine is not much different from previous ones.
A long-published writer relation of mine years ago told me he even found it difficult to avoid being bothered during the day. The assumption was that, being home, he must be “available.” He reached the point where he would rarely answer the phone (his answering machine always picked up), and never answered his door. “If I was in an office somewhere,” he said, “I wouldn’t be home to answer the door. When I’m working, I’m not here.”
He would write early in the day, and then head out to the gym or meet friends, and then return home to write more in the afternoon. It worked for him. That was also then pre-social media….
That “long-published writer relation” was, of course, my now late uncle. I remember visiting with him a bunch of times when I was a graduate student – when the rest of the “adult-world” was mostly out at their places of employment. I recall too how my now late mother used to poke fun at “Hemingway” (her nickname for him): “Is he actually writing anything?!”
Read the full book description. Of course, you’d suspect I’d like that. And considering you’re here, I figured you would as well. 😉
An amusing coincidence: last year, although neither of us knew the other existed, we’d lived only a few miles apart in the West Country (in England). She’s in Bath: