fri/20220729

in

Yesterday I said, "back when I ran a publishing company" and it hit me that I'm running one now only this time it's all me.

PRESS(A)01 definitely delayed but only by a week or two (this was part of the design in leaving June-August and December-February free of other releases): in what is most certainly a cliché, I had a dream last night and it gave me the conclusion that the piece needs. Going to work this bit until I get it right – or at least until it feels right enough with what came before it. Final edit / linedit pass and even-numbered page numbers yet to go on the Affinity iteration of it – BTW, I've found that doing two line edit passes – the first with odd numbers, the second when I add even numbers – works well.  Absolute final deadline remains Sunday, 07 August.

I'm not feeling THE BOYS this season. Something's off.

thu/20220728

in

The pieces are in place and the typos have been mostly corrected and my brain is in a half with-it capacity having slept last night at a blood sugar under 200 which was lovely and I have to do that again – my body may have other ideas but I'm pumping it with so much insulin something's got to break (for the good, though possibly for the ill).

Here's what I'm thinking re: PRESS(A) 01's release: if I haven't printed out a full, physical copy by tomorrow afternoon, I'm going to delay the full release. I'm on no one's timetable but my own so I can do that sort of thing, nice/nifty. Absolute, final deadline, though, is the day I turn 41 (07 Aug); it is my birthday present to myself, my final settling of her estate.

There are 15 bags of mulch in the truck. I see lifting and carrying and mulching much mulch and more editing and rewriting in my day's future that may or may not come to fruition.

wed/20220727

in

"The Final Countdown" has, appropriately, been stuck in my head all morning. Pagination, margins, print tests, snap/to, etc etc etc: my capacity for switching roles, especially without space between – as is the general way it goes in the summer – is at a low ebb (not that I'm very good at it any other time during the year). Snippy/snappy, et al.

And yet here I am – even though I told myself that it probably wasn't a good idea to do these morning things while the PRESS (A) endgame is being run. While I generally don't listen to myself, I'll chalk these up to wanting to write something in the midst of being in the throes of publisher/designer role until the last bit of laser toner is spilled and the first copy fully assembled.

The writer wants to play again but my brain is in the margins – and so it is and so it goes. Going feral not unlikely.