A whole lot has happened since our last post. The Edge of Me is nearly ready. Lisa and I have worked our little socks off on a collaborative edit that has taken since early November. A lot of miles have been racked up across the Thames and back, a lot of coffee has been drunk (mine: Tesco instant, Lisa: Nespresso Grand Cru – she lives in Battersea). We’ve had a glorious top and tailing from the amazing Catherine Best and soon it will be winging its way to the typesetters to be made to look like a book.
So what next?
What isn’t next? We are suffocating under bales, great wet snowdrifts, of ‘to do’ lists that we write feverishly and then forget about. It’s not the doing but the holding it all in our heads that’s hard.
I know we need to print some books.
I know we need some reviews of our books.
I know we need to send them to print journalists.
I know they should probably look like we mean business.
Which we do.
We need some boxes.
I ordered some samples.
Millimetres are hard.
One box is so small I could barely get a pair of reading glasses in it, let alone a paperback book. How did I get it so wrong?
In the end, with the help of my son and a measuring tape and a couple of felt pens, I did it. Ordered twenty five ‘pizza style’ boxes.
Except I didn’t.
I managed to order seventy five.
That’s another fifty reviews isn’t it? Will there be room on the back cover I wonder?