Bookmaking log: revised through page 109 of OTR, 291 to go of step 2 | TBN +1,322 words
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I just noticed that the 4-month anniversary of The Bookmaker’s Note – this blog series right here, almost 4 moths now, what the fuck is up with that? – is coming up. There will be zero celebration because α) my chronologic milestones are measured in years and β) the book version of the series (dropping Q1 2022, just you fucking wait and see if it doesn’t) will be celebration enough.
In other words, this is nothing new, folks. This psychephrenic bullshit done been going on, and ain’t nothin’ gonna stop it. Also, worth saying: thank you to everybody who downloaded the PDFs of my books and whatnot, I appreciate you checkin’ my shit out! I decided to make them available for free download mostly for selfish reasons – in the past I would recreate my books using WordPress’s webpage designer, but uh, that was fucking egregious. Offering the free PDFs (which are literally identical to the Amazon eBooks, which cost money; pointless, you say? Nah. I got the piano version of Cojum Dip’s Moon Waltz for free, then I went on Amazon specifically to write a review for it (as it had no reviews, somehow) and then I spur-of-the-moment decided to buy it and then review it) is a hell of a lot easier for me.
So that’s what I did.
I still listen to the free file, but I bought a paid version. Didn’t even download it.
and i’m broke as a bloke
what I’m saying is it means something, it feels good to contribute and support the art you care about even when you’re in a financial position in which you’re borrowing money from your family to afford the cannabis you need to function on a reasonably human level… plus, y’know, student loans and stuff. Granted, I spent literally a buck 29 on Moon Waltz, everybody has a buck 29, I don’t care how fucking broke you like to tell your friends you are when they ask if you want to go out to dinner but they’re bringing that one ‘man and you cannot fucking stand to share the same airspace with that one ‘man, as in (hu)man, as in a totally legitimate and acceptable and unoffensive gender-neutral verbalism that literally all of you are more than welcome to adopt. What, are they going to tell you they’re not human? Punch ’em in the fuckin’ throat then, it shouldn’t hurt ’em. Only humans feel pain when they’re punched in the throat, Men and Women are invincible higher beings from planet fucking Personality that don’t actually exist in this world despite the fact that they do and their actions are ruining the entire fucking game for humans like me who just want to play our role now that we’re finally done doing the work it takes to figure out what that role is and uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh by the way, to the human being who’s reading this, yeah, you, specifically you: I think you’re special. And unique. And I wish you would make art. Hell, even write a book. I need some shit to read, ‘man, Hank Chinaski’s busy knockin’ ’em down with Nick Belane and Stephen King’s crown is getting rusty, as all precious metals do when time takes its piece year after year after decade after that dude’s been killing it for half a fucking century what
So anyway, about the fact that I’m only in the low 100s for Over the River – uh, fuck off. It’s step 2, step 2 takes longer than step 1 and step 3, and I’ll not be rushed. Rushing the books is how I got into this I need to go back and finish my works so the orbs can ascend and mingle with the rest of infinity thing, okay, I’m taking my fucking time here. The working manuscript is available for free download if you really want it, and you can even give me money and preorder a signed paperback copy if you really want to, but you won’t. Because you don’t want it that bad. Only bad enough to send me telepathic paranoia and negative vibrations so I feel the need to address it in The Note, you can all just fuck off okay?!?! IM WORKING AS FAST AS IC AN, ICWONT EVEN PROOFREAD THIS! iLL JUT OTYPE AS HARD AS I CAN AND [RES SPUB;ISH AND ITL BE OUT AND ITLL BE GREAT YOU;LL ALL LVOOR ME AND BIY MY B00KZ AND ILLT ALKL BE HAPYI RIHT
So anyway, step 2 of my editing process takes longer than the rest because this is the bookmaking step, this is the step where I turn a document into a book. Make sure all the words fit on the lines right, put the graphics together (rough sketches for OTR’s are up on my instagram, btw; give a ‘man a follow, quick, before I announce my 15th book! [or don’t. because an empty follow is worth as much to me as the liquid shit that spilled out of your ass this morning, you liquid shitter, you]), get all the headers and footers and sections and spacing and, y’know, it’s a solid deal of work. Step 1 is revising in Scrivener, so there’s no pressure to make my revisions fit into a certain space, so that’s not as time-consuming, and step 3 is reading the proof copy and marking it with a pencil and then putting the changes into the manuscript, and that’s not as time-consuming because most of the work is done at that point, and this process might not work for you but I’ve made 12 books over the past 3 years, books that make your bullshit look like your fucking full toilet bowl of morn’ so therefore it works for me, don’t let me know what your shitty opinion on the method behind my madness is, you’re stupid enough to think this is true madness and therefore you are a fool and you hardly exist to me at all, and then that’s it, Jack. Then I submit for publishing in the various ways I must, I update the website, and I get started on the next. Yeah. Sometimes in the same day. Now that I can actually get cannabis, ‘man, I don’t even know how I’m gonna be working. In the past when I didn’t have it I felt like I was driving with one wheel, and partner, that wheel weren’t no circle, y’understan’? But now, ‘man… if I can just get the getting paid half of this making books for a living thing down, I’m fucking set, which means you’re fucking set, which means the world will be a happier place. Because I have the work half of it down. I have the work half of this down like a son of a bitch, it’s that getting folks to pay me for it that I’m struggling with.
And now I’ve acknowledged it.
Listen, I’ll get there eventually. My struggle used to be not wanting to bash my skull into a fucking wall. Now, my struggle is that I make beautiful artwork (that I think is beautiful, too) and I’m bad at sharing it, therefore I haven’t made very much money off it yet. A little, I’ve made a little, I have sold copies to the world, but I’ve not made much. Yet. Growth is a process, Jess Bezos went to space now so he can go to the moon later. The money will come. I’m just glad I still get to wake up in the morning, and thank god I get to make these books.
I say all that to say this: shit could be worse, ‘man.
Shit could be worse.
I have more work to do today, I’m done here
Since you’re there, noted reader, thank you for being there. From this day on, we move forever forward~