Los Angeles, CA
Sheesh. it's Friday, already? That's what happens when it take three days to recover for a 50-hour bender. I'm getting old. It used to take me a few hours to bounce back and now, I'm out of action for a half-of-a-week. Mastodon Weekend destroyed my body and productivity. My mind is still the same insane entity, but I was hurting on Monday and Tuesday. Physically. Sluggish. All over. My shoulder was extremely sore from tossing 54-holes of frolf inside a 24 hour window. My liver still has dent marks from all the Southern Comfort.
I started to feel better on Wednesday and finally returned to a normal schedule. Wednesday was all about catch up work which spilled into Thursday and now, shit, it's Friday and I'm wondering where the week went. Most of my time was spent engrossed in code and the migration of my blogs. I really thought it was going to take a week (and should have) but I got antsy and decided to do as much as I could inside of 48 hours. In that time frame, I managed to have three of them up and running. I even overhauled Truckin' and it took me ten or so hours to label every story by author since 2002. Sweet Jesus. You can check out the full roster of Truckin' scribes here. It was cool to see who participated over the years and to see who contributed ten or more stories -- an elite group of 1o other scribes and I'm eternally grateful for their submissions!
I still have a couple of last minute touches to complete on Tao of Poker, but I'm glad that the overall transition went smoothly. Traffic is up slightly. It could have been a fuckin' nightmare. I guess I never realized how many problems with the code/templates that I had prior to the migration until so many of my former headaches were resolved when working on the new templates.
The blog tech tilt was a distraction that I had no choice but to embrace it. Jumping back into Lost Vegas was rough at first but after the first hour or so, I found my groove. Half of the book is complete and I'm waiting on the thoughts from the grammar police during the last two sections. Once that is done, I can print it up and read it from beginning to end for the first time. Nicky and I always sit down for a line-by-line read through which takes a few days. At that point, once I fix any of those blaring errors, I can hand out copies to proof readers and we can get the ball going.
I was deathly afraid of the self-publishing process the entire publishing and media world is amidst a revolution so anything is possible right now. The anti-establishment rogue in me loves the fact that I can buck the traditional publishing process and reap the financial benefits of my own work. I'd rather have final say and sell less books, then lose control of my message and have that reach a wider audience. The Luddite in me can't said to fondle my first book, but the tech-driven visionary in me is embracing the excitement of e-books and printing on demand. Just think that by the time I finish Jack Tripper Stole My Dog (as early as this time next year), within moments of me approving the final draft, it can be ready for download on our iPad or Kindle.
Anyway, lets not get too far ahead of myself. It's fun to think about the future, but I live in the harsh reality that today -- the book is still not complete. We're thisclose away. I can almost smell it.
Benjo spoke to Jerome, our French publisher, during a nice meal in Berlin (that was before the tournament Benjo was covering got robbed). Anyway, Benjo shared lots of positive news about the French version of Lost Vegas. They are working on a cover and art work as we speak with a mid-October target date. Pretty excited. Benjo joked that late night French TV often has writers on to talk about books and that I could be one of those guests. I doubt that will happen because I don't speak French, but maybe the both of us can go on and do our shtick. That could be fun. They let you smoke cigarettes on French talk shows -- like the old days in the US. Maybe I can get away with smoking a doobie?
Back in the day, before the Nanny State took over, everyone smoked cigarettes especially in films and on TV. Just do a youtube search for vintage talk shows and you'll find lots of chain-smoking guests yapping away. My favorite is an uncomfortable Jack Kerouac sweating his balls off and smoking while forced to read excerpts from On the Road while a drunk Steve Allen pecks away at the piano. Ah, 1959...
The clip from Kerouac makes me think about Mad Men and how everyone was drinking up a storm and smoking like a champ. These days, everyone's vices are cellphones and Facebook. What happened to our society in just one > two generations?
Ah, why am I rambling on about nothing when I should just sit down, rip a few bingers, and listen to twenty minutes of the audiobook version of On the Road. That always fires me up to write something of substance.