Last weekend I attended Ret-Con, the local Durham specfic convention. It’s pleasantly close, maybe 6 miles up highway 54, which is nice, and I see a lot of people I know — fellow local author Samantha Bryant, Tera Fulbright of ConGregate, guest of honor Natania Barron and a few others.
I attended last year. This year, though, I had an author table.
It’s a small convention so everyone doing anything has to pass through Author’s Alley, plus my table was right in front of the dealer’s room. Plus I’m really good at bookselling — I used to do it for a day job — so any time I made eye contact with someone passing by, I asked if they’d like to buy a book. Sometimes they did.
The end result: $300 in sales. I feel quite pleased. There was a time I’d have treated this as special income and bought myself some sort of treat with a little of the money. These days it’s just income, plus my birthday’s approaching so I don’t want to buy myself anything yet. Still, the accomplishment is satisfying.
I sold copies of everything Behold the Book publishes except Atoms for Peace, which has been my best seller at other cons. Not that I mind, it’s just interesting to see the variation.
They like me. They really like me.
It feels like he really wants to be our indoor cat but can’t quite bring himself to do it. TYG loves him so much, she’ll be over the moon if he comes in and snuggles like Wisp does.
I also have a piece at Atomic Junk Shop on the 
But she’s still my cat and she’s welcome to stay in if she wants.
A new problem, however, is that Wisp’s leg is now flexible enough she can sometimes reach and chew on the bandage around her foot. This is bad, so I’m doing my best to discourage her. She’s also gotten the cone of shame off a couple of times. If worst came to worst, we could just take her to the vet for a new bandage — they’re close — but I’d rather not.
— but yesterday, I was wiped out. I’m sleeping better but the accumulated sleep deficit and the way I’ve rarely gotten a solid night of sleep has left me fatigued. Everything seems to take more work and mental effort, and little annoyances grate on me more. Thinking is way harder.
(Wisp still has her cast on, but I like this shot from before her injury).
using her body like Bruce Lee — she’s not the athletic type — and incorporated that into Chapter Three. However when I reviewed the most recent chapter (ten) my brain wasn’t ready to start writing. Rather than just browse online, though, which has been my default since the injury, I worked on Savage Adventures, my Doc Savage history, instead.
