It's taken me two days to figure out how to number pages in my manuscript without having the numbers appear on the first four pages. Sounds simple, yes? Why the hell doesn't MS Word just have a box that says, "On which page of your document do you wish numbering to begin?" Or at the very least, a warning that says, "If you wish your document to look decent, take a class, for god's sake." After all the frustration, my success has made me want to break out the champagne.
Character Assassin is on its way to publication with Lulu Press. Now that I've got the page numbering issue down, all I have to do is check for gross typos and format the chapter headings. Well, and then figure out how to upload my cover art, but that's the least of my concerns. THEN I will be ready to publish Dreamer, that weighty little tome.
I decided to ride today, and let the rhythmic clop of the horse's hooves free my subconscious to roam and create.
Guess again, Batman. The incoming storm had the intrepid Duquesne in a snitty, shitty mood, with his ears pinned irritably and an inability to walk rather than prance and threaten to buck. I don't know how much of a workout he got in twenty minutes, but I surely had one that I'll be feeling for days.
Farmers were all over the place with heavy equipment, scooping up recently-trimmed branches of almond trees for burning on the orchard roads, everyone frantically trying to get work done before this next storm comes through. I hope the weather people are wrong and it misses us.