August 30, 2015
Under Strange Suns debuted almost a week ago. By this point you may well be tired of my mentioning it. Could be I’m tired of mentioning it too, ever think of that, bucko? Hmmm? How about you buy a copy and I’ll stop bringing it up? What’s that, you say? “How about I just stop reading anything you write, Ken, that’ll solve my problem.” Touché, gentle reader. Well played. I withdraw the suggestion.
But I’m going to have to bring it up from time to time. People seldom buy unadvertised goods. And I’ll want to raise my hand when the print edition comes out, and note upcoming signings, etc. Still, I get you. I’d just as soon focus on the next project myself. Bear with me, though, a bit longer, allow me to ruminate a little more on my sophomore outing.
The truth is, the book still doesn’t feel real to me. I know it is, of course. I’ve read through it countless times, in all its permutations and formats, on various computer screens, printed out and scattered across the floor, PDF file, unbound book mock-up. But until I get my author copy in hand, the novel still seems ethereal to me, so much vapor. Very subjective, you say, a highly personal response. Well, yes. This is my web log. Personal is what you’re going to get, until I can hire underpaid marketing minions to manage all my social media duties. Maybe there’s a blogging service in Cambodia, able to crank out a year’s worth of posts for $2.75, throw in daily Tweets for a quarter per month. Think anyone would notice?