Ever do something stupid then sit blushing when your stupidity is pointed out to you? Of course you do.... Well, I do....
Last week an author agreed to promote my book on his website. His reward: it would bring more readers to said website. Such is the lot of the author trying to market his work. I sent required info, it was added to website and I was pleased. Something made me check out the website yesterday - probably one of those inexplicable but nevertheless powerful and destructive thoughts that pounce out when you're feeling happy. Anyway, I couldn't find my book. Savage thoughts filled my mind. 'He tricked me..... he doesn't like my writing.... blah, blah, blah.
I emailed him to ask what had happened to my 'showcase'. This was his response:
Panic ye not, dear Jane.
Prithee, 'tis merely resited in alphabetical order.
Glance ye down the Olde Neal James Website(e), and verily
you will find it resting happily.
Salutations!
And here was mine, a day later:
Mine was a countenance more in sorrow than in anger. Frailty thy name is woman. It was not a foregone conclusion that my book would remain in your showcase. And it was a sorry sight when, for neither rhyme nor reason, all of a sudden I decided to check it out and in the twinkling of an eye thought it had vanish(ed) into thin air.
Off with his head, I thought. Woe is me, where is the milk of human kindness? Nevertheless, all's well that ends well. Eventually, it was a case of truth will out. I checked the website again, and as good luck would have it, there it was, the marketing information for my book. It was much ado about nothing.
Since then, I have not slept one wink, from embarrassment. Thus it is my intention to lie low for a while. And thereby hangs a tale.
And I don't even like Shakespeare. So why did I even spend time replying to him like this, let alone blogging about it? It's a more creative way of procrastinating from undertaking a particularly arduous piece of editing. Shame on me.
Jane
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