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The Shattered Mirror TSMFrontJPEG-2011-08-16-09-36.jpg and Colonel Fitzwilliam’s Correspondence PastedGraphic-2011-08-16-09-36.jpg are both published and selling at various outlets.

Both can be had in trade paperback. And they are both available as ebooks at as many of the outlets on the web as I can get them to. However, the only place anyone is buying them is Amazon for their Kindles? Why is that? Has Kindle really sold that many more units than other devices? Certainly there are more iPads out there then Kindle’s now.

I think it has to do with the storefront. The iBookstore needs a great deal of work to make it as user friendly to find what you are looking for as the Kindle. Or as Amazon where with the push of a button, you get sent your book. Perhaps the iTunes way of selling music does not translate to selling books. Well certainly with my books it does not. That is something that Apple really should look at. They get a piece of every book of mine they sell, through there store, and Amazon just got smart enough to deny them a piece of every book they sell to an iPad/iPhone/iPod user.

Apple used to not be greedy, but something has taken over in the C-Suite there and they make some pretty stupid statements that will stifle some growth instead of give us more power down here at the user level. The cut of 30% of everything sold seems to be part of it.

Should they get a distribution fee for magazine subscriptions? Should they have control over the info of that subscriber? Should they get a cut of a book that is purchased when I am looking at Kindle Reader on my iPhone?

Those points are whole philosophies. And well worth the discussion. Amazon sells a book for $10 promising $7 less a few pennies for the size of the file, to the author. They now have $3 for themselves, but that is exactly the 30% that Apple wants. If Apple wanted 30% of what Amazon share was, then I see that as something that was in the realm of negotiation. What is Amazon doing but giving a page or two to marketing of the book, and some bytes and electricity to delivering That is worth 70% of their 30%. Apple is providing the customer, always worth a finder’s fee. Typically 10% of the initial sale, which is right around that 30% of the 30% that Amazon was keeping.

The Last Bites Phenomena
As of this morning, my clear winner for sales for the month of August is Colonel Fitzwilliam’s Correspondence PastedGraphic-2011-08-16-09-36.jpg. In fact I am having the best sales ever and I have not really been advertising or twisting arms to generate these sales. I believe the Austenites of the world are finding my book and buying it. Mostly for their kindles. (Of 36 sales to date for August, 34 sales of my work are for the ubiquitous Kindle) I sell ebooks, or rather Regency Assembly Press sells them in 3 varieties, and I label them so:
A Taste
Last Bites
Complete.

A Taste is the first four chapters, Last Bites are the remaining chapters, a much bigger section of the story. Complete I hope is self explanatory. Last Bites, that part of the story without the first four chapters, is outselling the complete version four to 1 and, people are not purchasing enough Tastes to make up for what they are missing. I hope that my readers see that I have disclaimers and labels to show that there are 3 versions to purchase. I hope they will come and purchase the first four chapters.

It is a conundrum though. Will this turn readers off, or do they think that by avoiding those chapters they get into the action more quickly. I hope that any reader missing the first four chapters will come get them at the Kindle Page

Lord and Key
As June started, and July rolled along, and finally here in August, I had been prepping the two books above for publication, and also writing my newest work, which I call Lord and Key. My romance formula, but set in the time of Edwardian England, at the death of Edward and the knowledge that war may be on the way.

Never a pleasant thought, and certainly not something that rational men can always avert. That is part of the premise of my story. There are misunderstandings, as well as characters flawed and imperfect, all seeing if they can be in love, as well as prepare for what is to come. I finished the first draft last weekend and now have to move on to something else.

New Story
I pulled out Starship Troopers,1__%252524%252521%252540%252521__PastedGraphic-2011-08-16-09-36.jpg the movie a few days ago and was thinking very much of what my next book was to be. I really have been thinking of a murder mystery set in 1990’s LA around a character who is a Magician. I had this great book in the 70’s about magic and that is one of the research items I think I need. But back to ST. I’m not ready to write the murder mystery just yet.

So with my Novella Short format, I thought of starting on my SCi-Fi Five, which I had planned to be what was being written at this time in any case. A gutsy Figther Pilot on his way to CAG. So a little Wing CommanderPastedGraphic1-2011-08-16-09-36.jpg, Battlestar Galactica PastedGraphic2-2011-08-16-09-36.jpgand Starship Troopers. We’ll see if I can get this right.

New New Story thoughts and reflections
Sales of my Jane Austen sequel though have me thinking a little differently. Perhaps I should write some 40K word, $2.99 Austenite continuations to augment my sales. It seems to work.

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It has been just a few days but I am writing quickly these days. Cramming a lot out. Though I have slowed down this week over the last three. For three weeks I wrote at the pace of 50,000 words each week. Now I am slowing down to 40,000 words so I do more with my day then just write.

This is a graph of my writing for the weeks of 2011. The amount shown for Week 6 is on Wednesday, the middle of the day with four more days to write.

My February 2011 Writing log started on Monday so at the moment I am just that 15K words into the month.

My exploration into a Ruritanian Romance is now 60,000 and a little less than half way. The Prize is not as Great as You Think combines those elements along with part of a plot line I had thought about a few years ago and jotted down. My notes of story ideas and plots go back for years. At one time I would wake from a dream and jot down the idea. Last night I had a dream I thought was going somewhere as well and the watching Lights Out today I saw that some of my dream stems from that as well as the George Clooney  picture from last year, Up in the Air. The premise of my dream was that there was a deal, a business deal and the hero, me of course, was the smart guy, while the other side of the deal was clearly the costar of Up in the Air, Vera Farmiga.

She was the hot number in the plot that was a great Wall Streeter with access to a lot of venture capital. I was in the position with Raymond Enkeboll Designs that I used to hold and advising how to do a deal. Something happened that caused the hot number to scrag the deal which was fine with our hero for he had booked an adjoining room to the hottie and they they took forward a similar deal together making more than either would working for the man.

Who knows, one day I may add to the idea and make a story from it.

In the meantime we are at 218K words for the year and this is the beginning of the 2nd chapter from The Prize is not as Great as You Think:

2) All The Little Pieces

The manor house, near the outskirts of the city was very fashionable. Reginald had seen it before more than once, though he had avoided the inside. He smiled to himself for the expression like the plaque came to mind. Not that Princess Margaritte, was anything at all like that. Just that an alliance, a marriage would signify the end of his life of freedom. That he would have to start serious work here in the principality. Work that his father was more than qualified for and willing to do.

With that understood, why then should he worry about taxes, and bread, Germans and railways? Father actually wanted to make all those decisions. He complained all the time that it was too much and he needed help, but Reginald had learned early on that was not the case. That when he had offered to help when he was younger, the Grand Prince would smile and then thank him. Father would say it was noble of him to offer but that Reginald should enjoy his life before he was forced to wear the crown and make such decisions.

After offering a half a dozen times, perhaps more over the years to really work on serious matters, and always being refused, Reginald took to heart that he should indulge himself. Perhaps he had overdone it. Certainly the press loved him for overindulgence. He was advised by the owners of not only the papers from Steilenberg, but those in the provinces, that he contributed greatly to their profits. Everyone wanted to read about what he was doing, or planning to do. They liked pictures of the beautiful women he dated, and fortunately they papers only called it dating. Should they report on how many women he slept with, and sometimes more than one, his reputation might not have been so great amongst the people.

He had one affair that had been placed in the papers so long ago now that no one remembered. It had caused him grief and he had come to an understanding then with the papers. They could report on all sorts of things that he did, but what happened in his bed, and who with, were never to be reported.

“Highness,” he saluted by sharply bringing his heels together. Then he leaned over and kissed the proffered hand. Margaritte didn’t rise when he entered, for she too was a princess of the Fitzroy Perry blood. Though he did outrank her, she was establishing her rights. He had encountered such women before. And of course he had met Margaritte many times. She was one of the most beautiful ladies in Steilenberg. He agreed with his father about that. Was she the woman he would marry, that still was to be determined.

“You do me great honor by visiting and so early in the day? Why I think the sun has only been up a few short hours.”

“Yes, I saw it rise for I have not been to sleep yet. Too much to do and so I must burn that candle at both ends.”

She trilled, for that was what her laugh was. Like a little precious bird. Blond hair, a descendent of one of the infusions from the north. She was one of the many cousins, and anyone who had the least amount of Fitzroy Perry blood seemed to want to proclaim that they were a cousin. Not that his cousin Gerald did, fool. He would have to tell him that the next time he came to town he need use some scent or other to hide the smell of his cows.

Perhaps that would be a good reason to marry, then he would place children between the man and the throne. Every son would cause the need for his cousin Gerald to come to the capital less frequently. “What would you say to eight sons?” He asked Margaritte. Not only because the thought occurred to him just then, but also eight would be needed to bear the damn platform with St. Michael atop it. He was still sore from that. Sure that he had torn a muscle in his shoulder.

“Eight, I think you need to first marry, and then we shall discuss it.” She smiled but he saw that it did not reach her eyes. She was calculating what that question had meant.

“You must meet my cousin Gerald. You know he is next in line to the throne after me? It so irks Athalan. My brother has never accepted that he is not in the line of succession.”

“I do not think of Athalan much,” Margaritte said.

Reginald nodded, “You know most women are like that, but I think that is a mistake. Not that women should like him for his charms or his looks, though you would think with his parents he would look better. No, I think women should like Athalan for his ambition. And what he will do with that ambition should he find he is disliked.”

She laughed again but not the trill she had before. This was forced. “You make him sound dangerous.”

Reginald nodded, “He is probably the most dangerous man I know. I fear that in the years to come we may find out just how dangerous he is. Father refuses to see it. You should know this also should I court you to be my bride and then the Grand Princess. If we were to have any sons, Athalan would not necessarily be there friend.”

She did not laugh, “If you feel this way, then why not exile him? Surely you could arrange that.”

“He is the son of my father, and he is my brother. I know his ambitions seethes inside of him but until he acts upon it, I will do nothing. It is an unspoken truce between us. He wants recognition for all his efforts for a country he will never lead. I pretend that when I am Grand Prince I will do something to aid in his desires.”

She shook her pretty blonde head. She was twenty three he had been told and overripe for marriage. But she was holding herself out for the biggest fish that she could find, and that was him. Did that make cousin Gerald the second biggest fish? Smelling of fish and cow, the man was intolerable.

Well once Reginald was wed and producing some boys, then it would not matter. Cousin Gerald could stay in the country forever. There were other younger cousins who could carry the damn platform during the pageant. And if he had hurt his shoulder, then Reginald would force his father to take a flux and stay in bed next pageant. That was a way to get out of carrying the dame platform. If he had to act as regent for his father for even an hour, it would supersede all other duties and requirements. Athalan had told him that, but only after they got to the damn top of the hill and the Palace gates this year.

Gratitude Log

  1. El Pollo Loco-The Tostada Bowls–I have been eating these for a number of years and though I typically do not like mexican food, the bowls not only have edible food within, but the bowl themselves are edible.
  2. Campbell’s Soup–During the cold drinking these were great. Cream of Mushroom is especially my favorite and Ralphs has been selling them for $1.
  3. Apple iBooks–Still finding new, free books to download. Last night Jeeves and Wooster by PG Wodehouse.
  4. Edgar Rice Burroughs –Wrote a Ruritanian Romance called The Mad King . I am rereading again on my iPhone courtesy of iBooks .
  5. Wishlists–What an incredible and powerful thing when you are broke. Really broke and going into your retirement savings to pay for food. Just place things on the Wishlist when you see what you would like to have and one day, perhaps you can get them.

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It has been just a few days but I am writing quickly these days. Cramming a lot out. Though I have slowed down this week over the last three. For three weeks I wrote at the pace of 50,000 words each week. Now I am slowing down to 40,000 words so I do more with my day then just write.

This is a graph of my writing for the weeks of 2011. The amount shown for Week 6 is on Wednesday, the middle of the day with four more days to write.

My February 2011 Writing log started on Monday so at the moment I am just that 15K words into the month.

My exploration into a Ruritanian Romance is now 60,000 and a little less than half way. The Prize is not as Great as You Think combines those elements along with part of a plot line I had thought about a few years ago and jotted down. My notes of story ideas and plots go back for years. At one time I would wake from a dream and jot down the idea. Last night I had a dream I thought was going somewhere as well and the watching Lights Out today I saw that some of my dream stems from that as well as the George Clooney  picture from last year, Up in the Air. The premise of my dream was that there was a deal, a business deal and the hero, me of course, was the smart guy, while the other side of the deal was clearly the costar of Up in the Air, Vera Farmiga.

She was the hot number in the plot that was a great Wall Streeter with access to a lot of venture capital. I was in the position with Raymond Enkeboll Designs that I used to hold and advising how to do a deal. Something happened that caused the hot number to scrag the deal which was fine with our hero for he had booked an adjoining room to the hottie and they they took forward a similar deal together making more than either would working for the man.

Who knows, one day I may add to the idea and make a story from it.

In the meantime we are at 218K words for the year and this is the beginning of the 2nd chapter from The Prize is not as Great as You Think:

2) All The Little Pieces

The manor house, near the outskirts of the city was very fashionable. Reginald had seen it before more than once, though he had avoided the inside. He smiled to himself for the expression like the plaque came to mind. Not that Princess Margaritte, was anything at all like that. Just that an alliance, a marriage would signify the end of his life of freedom. That he would have to start serious work here in the principality. Work that his father was more than qualified for and willing to do.

With that understood, why then should he worry about taxes, and bread, Germans and railways? Father actually wanted to make all those decisions. He complained all the time that it was too much and he needed help, but Reginald had learned early on that was not the case. That when he had offered to help when he was younger, the Grand Prince would smile and then thank him. Father would say it was noble of him to offer but that Reginald should enjoy his life before he was forced to wear the crown and make such decisions.

After offering a half a dozen times, perhaps more over the years to really work on serious matters, and always being refused, Reginald took to heart that he should indulge himself. Perhaps he had overdone it. Certainly the press loved him for overindulgence. He was advised by the owners of not only the papers from Steilenberg, but those in the provinces, that he contributed greatly to their profits. Everyone wanted to read about what he was doing, or planning to do. They liked pictures of the beautiful women he dated, and fortunately they papers only called it dating. Should they report on how many women he slept with, and sometimes more than one, his reputation might not have been so great amongst the people.

He had one affair that had been placed in the papers so long ago now that no one remembered. It had caused him grief and he had come to an understanding then with the papers. They could report on all sorts of things that he did, but what happened in his bed, and who with, were never to be reported.

“Highness,” he saluted by sharply bringing his heels together. Then he leaned over and kissed the proffered hand. Margaritte didn’t rise when he entered, for she too was a princess of the Fitzroy Perry blood. Though he did outrank her, she was establishing her rights. He had encountered such women before. And of course he had met Margaritte many times. She was one of the most beautiful ladies in Steilenberg. He agreed with his father about that. Was she the woman he would marry, that still was to be determined.

“You do me great honor by visiting and so early in the day? Why I think the sun has only been up a few short hours.”

“Yes, I saw it rise for I have not been to sleep yet. Too much to do and so I must burn that candle at both ends.”

She trilled, for that was what her laugh was. Like a little precious bird. Blond hair, a descendent of one of the infusions from the north. She was one of the many cousins, and anyone who had the least amount of Fitzroy Perry blood seemed to want to proclaim that they were a cousin. Not that his cousin Gerald did, fool. He would have to tell him that the next time he came to town he need use some scent or other to hide the smell of his cows.

Perhaps that would be a good reason to marry, then he would place children between the man and the throne. Every son would cause the need for his cousin Gerald to come to the capital less frequently. “What would you say to eight sons?” He asked Margaritte. Not only because the thought occurred to him just then, but also eight would be needed to bear the damn platform with St. Michael atop it. He was still sore from that. Sure that he had torn a muscle in his shoulder.

“Eight, I think you need to first marry, and then we shall discuss it.” She smiled but he saw that it did not reach her eyes. She was calculating what that question had meant.

“You must meet my cousin Gerald. You know he is next in line to the throne after me? It so irks Athalan. My brother has never accepted that he is not in the line of succession.”

“I do not think of Athalan much,” Margaritte said.

Reginald nodded, “You know most women are like that, but I think that is a mistake. Not that women should like him for his charms or his looks, though you would think with his parents he would look better. No, I think women should like Athalan for his ambition. And what he will do with that ambition should he find he is disliked.”

She laughed again but not the trill she had before. This was forced. “You make him sound dangerous.”

Reginald nodded, “He is probably the most dangerous man I know. I fear that in the years to come we may find out just how dangerous he is. Father refuses to see it. You should know this also should I court you to be my bride and then the Grand Princess. If we were to have any sons, Athalan would not necessarily be there friend.”

She did not laugh, “If you feel this way, then why not exile him? Surely you could arrange that.”

“He is the son of my father, and he is my brother. I know his ambitions seethes inside of him but until he acts upon it, I will do nothing. It is an unspoken truce between us. He wants recognition for all his efforts for a country he will never lead. I pretend that when I am Grand Prince I will do something to aid in his desires.”

She shook her pretty blonde head. She was twenty three he had been told and overripe for marriage. But she was holding herself out for the biggest fish that she could find, and that was him. Did that make cousin Gerald the second biggest fish? Smelling of fish and cow, the man was intolerable.

Well once Reginald was wed and producing some boys, then it would not matter. Cousin Gerald could stay in the country forever. There were other younger cousins who could carry the damn platform during the pageant. And if he had hurt his shoulder, then Reginald would force his father to take a flux and stay in bed next pageant. That was a way to get out of carrying the dame platform. If he had to act as regent for his father for even an hour, it would supersede all other duties and requirements. Athalan had told him that, but only after they got to the damn top of the hill and the Palace gates this year.

Gratitude Log

  1. El Pollo Loco-The Tostada Bowls–I have been eating these for a number of years and though I typically do not like mexican food, the bowls not only have edible food within, but the bowl themselves are edible.
  2. Campbell’s Soup–During the cold drinking these were great. Cream of Mushroom is especially my favorite and Ralphs has been selling them for $1.
  3. Apple iBooks–Still finding new, free books to download. Last night Jeeves and Wooster by PG Wodehouse.
  4. Edgar Rice Burroughs –Wrote a Ruritanian Romance called The Mad King . I am rereading again on my iPhone courtesy of iBooks .
  5. Wishlists–What an incredible and powerful thing when you are broke. Really broke and going into your retirement savings to pay for food. Just place things on the Wishlist when you see what you would like to have and one day, perhaps you can get them.

Read Full Post »

I set this up to be written back in September, a month after the previous update, but i never posted it. Nor did any writing on it.

I have written since then. A great deal it seems, even if I have said not a lot in my blog about it

Since August 19th, what I have written is:

You Ought to Trust Your Mother (NaNoWriMo 2010) Novel-57240 words currently
The Conquest Story-48,448 Currently
Star Musketeers-82,650 words this year, completed first draft, 105K+ words total
The Succession Crisis-124,830 words completed first draft
Tempest and Sword-108,274 words completed first draft

At my august update I was just past 700K words for the year
I am now at 1,060,000+ words for the year

I spoke at another group and this was a little different then the first book group. Here no one had read my novel, while at the first group all had. I like it better when everyone has read my novel. It means that we have something to talk about in common. When i was put out there as a writer and publishing my book, it seems like I was pandering and standing naked in front of them. Not exactly what I wanted. The End of the World PastedGraphic.szeJmRazR5pk.jpg has reached 92 sales, and I hope for more.

Feedback about the story is good. Still working on the copy editor for The Shattered Mirror. Three of the chapters done. As soon as it is all finished it will be virtually ready for publication

You Ought to Trust Your Mother, YOTTYM-1inch.3OKWkulhsWZ7.jpg the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) effort this year is the story of a girl too pretty for her own ambitions, which she in unsure what they are.

Art and a flamboyant lord all play a part in helping her find her path in life and the man she should wed.

Here is an excerpt:

Ballateer

Lord Fallion finished his breakfast and then, after all he had done that morning, waking and attending to his toilette, dressing, and eating, he looked through the windows that framed the room. He noted that they were wet with rain once more. Three days, and winter was supposed to be finished already. Not that he was annoyed. He had spent some considerable time living where it was wet without a house to keep it from his head some few years before. That Ballateer had a sound roof, he was quite pleased with.
Sound everything. Fallion Lancealot Stafford couldn’t fault his father for the way he had left things to him, but two years since his father died and he had become Baron of Tweeddale, and his idleness was choking him. Idleness caused by indecision, if caused by anything at all.
Pushing his plate away, the servant Franks said, “Coffee in the study, my lord?”
“Drawing room today. And I’ll read the papers there. Have James lay a fire if one isn’t already…”
Franks said, “There is one doing quite nicely my lord.” Of course there would be. Despite his attempts to train the staff to economize, since four of five days he was sure he went to his study after he had dined in the morning, it made sense to ready a fire in that room. But as the whim took Fall, as he thought of himself and wished his friends called him, that he might wish to sit in the drawing room where large portraits of his parents faced his favorite settee, he would change his routine. Such was the case that morning as it had been others and he never failed to find the room ready for him, or the library should he go there.
Fallion had made it known to Bartman the head butler that laying a fire in all three rooms were a waste and he could call for a fire when he planned to use a room or went into one. Bartman had agreed and then did nothing to change the routine of the house. Fires were laid in all the rooms that the servant thought he would use. Thankfully they did not start one in every room of the house. Though Fallion was wealthy and perhaps his money did seem inexhaustible, he was sure it wasn’t. Though his men of accounts said each quarter it did seem to accumulate more of the stuff.
Ensconced in the room that had been a favorite of his late mothers, he sat and took a look at the papers. He did not truly care what was happening in the empire, or who was seen and whom they were with. But lords read the papers after breakfast. His father had read the papers and aloud to his mother. She had lived for two weeks after his father had died, not weeping because the last baron was gone in public, but behind the closed doors of her rooms, Fallion knew she was heartbroken and sobbed for hours. Surely it had affected her health and caused her to pass away so quickly.
That is what distracted him while he looked cursorily at the words of the newsprint, or glanced to the portrait of the late Baroness. If she were there with him now, he smiled at the thought, what would she say. Probably that his father had never idled his life so, though of course his father had, and that he should marry. That is what his sisters would say also, for they had taken such pages from their mothers book. Each married, and if he knew them as well as he thought he did, they would be either arriving or sending their emissaries shortly before lunch.
It was a cycle and well planned out. Sunday he always had to himself unless he chose to ask for company. Otherwise each day of the week, one or the other of his brothers by marriage would come, sometimes both. Or one or the other of his sisters, or both. Or one couple together, or even all four. The last permutation of such visits had them bring their children all in a cluster and let them run rampant. He didn’t truly mind that, for the children were good and respectful of the house.
Saverdale, the man married to his elder sister Jane was in the House of Commons, having the borough of him and might want to discuss politics, but that was a bore. Fallion should not like that, but then he remembered that the Saverdale clan entire had set out to London for the season was starting and the House was back in session shortly.
The Season which meant that Anne would be coming to visit with Lord Drakesmore, the third son of the Duke of Lege who had been given a manor next to Ballateer, fallen in love with Anne and married faster than one could read Chaucer. He would see Anne and Drakesmore daily until he succumbed and ran up to London for the season, it was inevitable, or had been the way they carried on the last two years.

In our personal life, we moved over this time. The first move since we had to leave our house of ten years. It took a lot away from my writing with trips to look at houses, packing and a great many trips to storage.

The Gratitude Log

  1. Youtube–I spend a great deal of time here watching the vids of people playing games that are not on the Macintosh just yet.
  2. NaNoWriMo–This is the challenge that got me focused to write more and publish
  3. U-HaulPastedGraphic1.q0rruX32MFa5.jpg–We gave them a lot of money and business. They are ubiquitous. They were the closest and most available place to rent a vehicle
  4. Apple–Still the best for all my computing needs
  5. Firaxis–The makers of Civilization V 1__%23%24%21%40%25%21%23__PastedGraphic.1sBn7KUtxlB1.jpg. The next iteration of one of the best strategy series for computer gaming.

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Watching the feeds live on the Apple WWDC, then gave up. I like Leo Laporte. Even more now that my cousin is the president of Twit. (Go Dane!) But it was talking heads. Even on another feed that promised live coverage it was talking heads.

So back to MacWorld where the coverage is typed in, you have to refresh the screen, but it is good. The talking heads will be doing this for days after the event on what they hear today. Apple could solve this problem by just publishing the live video feed, but that is too much to ask.

This weekend we had another meeting of the Brea Borders group and I read the beginning to chapter 12 of Space Mine, where the President arrives for an impromptu visit. It is one thing to think about how hard space will be, when we actually really start to work in it. But I put it in perspective a bit. The president of course wants the project finished so he looks good. But as he interacts in the environment he will see just how hard it is to say that the project only needs three months. What about eating breakfast. We are trained to lift that glass of juice. Use our hand to spread the butter with the knife in just such a way. On the moon, that goes out the window because the gravity is less. What about cooking those eggs. Cracking an egg will need to be retrained.

We had a new member join us and hope she comes back. Adding a whole new dimension to our group.

In any event for today I have already done 1600 words, this month the goal for weekday writing is 1500 words. Finished the editing of Chapter 2 of Graces and now have to type them into the computer. Finally got all caught up on the backlog of Forbes.

I spent some of my weekend time on Time Commanders and my new website. I now have 4 of the first 16 battles up on line. That is there are 25 battles total to be placed online, and the first 4 of the first season have their pages all done. There are several pages that go with each battle, and a lot of video, including support video from other sources, not just Time Commanders

tc1.OC91BfZideYN.jpg

I also spent a great deal of time, digitizing for my parents.

Here I am during my one season as a Jock. We played TBall, and I was on the pilots. I sucked…

JnD019.ahEjTUSjc70x.jpg

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