Is a holiday spent working on your project still a holiday? Forgive the airy-fairy existential opening question to this post, but I'm wondering. I am enjoying what is officially the first day of a two week vacation, but I am at my local library googling phone numbers for a local cafe to do sandwiches for my Friday night launch, the number of the venue I have booked; I want to ask if they have an iPod dock as I'm thinking of blaring some glam rock to the literati when they arrive. Well, blaring might not be a good idea. Just play it at a level where they can still talk to each other but get a 'vibe' for the book, 'Silver Studs and Sabre Teeth' (http://www.zeus-publications.com/silver_studs_and_sabre_teeth.htm). If you're not coming to my launch, and chances are if you're reading this you aren't, click on that link and read the first chapter, and then you can go to the shopping cart icon of the publisher's website, and click 'purchase' or 'buy', or whatever it is they have there. I cannot find the number of the cafe I want, they might trade under another name, but what the heck-a-roonie, I can just pop by and speak to them. Also on this ever-increasing to-do list is to enquire about an antipasto platter from the local supermarket. The menu for Friday night has been written out. It did start off with the pork-and-prawn spring rolls that have made my husband and I very popular with our friends, but I have since scored through that line with my pen. To the potential attendees, I am deeply sorry about this. The spring rolls are always a hit, but by the Almighty Lord On His Throne Above, they are fiddly to prepare, and along with buying the ice, making sure there is a strong enough receptacle to hold the melting ice (last time I had a cheap bucket of pliable ice and water leaked as the ice melted and challenged the intregrity of the bucket, and the staff at the venue were a tad worried), setting up seats, and making sure I don't leave the colorant in my hair too long, there is enough to keep me occupied. As to the colorant, hubby has requested Julianne Moore red, if you're interested. I think that might be a tad too dark for me. I do not want to look like a red-headed Goth at my launch.
If you've been following my bleatings of late, you will know my computer hard drive took a good thumping from the mixture of slurry and water and general muck that coursed through my house after a freak storm on Anzac Day (I didn't get to the Dawn Service this year!). This is why I'm researching and blogging at the library. Hubby does have a lap top, but it is prone to overheating. This is of course due to two Gen Y-ers in the house who are coming to understand the concept of not being stuck at an electric gadget all day. As loathe as I am to use the phrase 'back in my day', I must tell them that 'back in my day, we watched whatever your pop wanted to watch, and if we whinged we ran the risk of a swat across the bum from Pop's slipper!' Still, might be able to buy a new one soon-ish. Hubby has informed me he has spoken to the insurer, and they will email a list of things to be replaced, and we have to provide a dollar figure as to their value. This means I have to work out how much to replace fifteen years worth of Mad magazine, probably.
Well, I must away. So many little things catch my mind of late. I see headlines on breakfast television that say, 'Monica Lewinksy Speaks Out'. Well, I guess now she can. After all, it would have been difficult to speak out when her mouth was full of POTUS penis. That snarkiness aside, I always felt sorry for her during this scandal.
Trying to find out who is, and who is not coming along on Friday night is occupying what passes for a mind on me of late. Know what gets up my shnoz a bit? Someone said to me, when I mentioned to her my launch, 'They're just kids' books, aren't they?' Well first of all, no. I write adult satire (not surprising given I was once an avid collector of Mad magazine). And I hate the qualifier 'just'. I feel it devalues the work of people who do generally work in children and young adult fiction. Not sure about the young, young stuff like 'Where Is The Green Sheep', but that's not to say the author has to come up with a rhythm and cadence to get kids to learn to talk. My oldest toilet-trained as I read about the Green Sheep to him. The author of this book seems to think everything I do as a parent is wrong, I'll wager!
Well, as aforesaid, I must away.
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