Signings, hats, and living with children

I spent Saturday doing two book signings. Biggest lesson I learned? Make sure you have big name authors at your signings. Sitting between Tracy Hickman and Larry Correia really helped my sales. Nine authors, all SF/F, and me the only girl and the newbie on the list. It was very successful for me. All of the authors are great friends and nice guys. I'll be in their signing line-up any day.

Topic two - hats. I hate hats. I never wear hats, except for my Apple logo baseball cap I wear when I'm at my summer job serving space camp food. That's when I'm not being Hakh P'Tui of the house K'Chen, the Klingon lunchlady. That appearance was way too much fun, although the stupid wig was too long and kept getting in the pizza. And July is not the month to wear heavy boots and a thick jacket, no matter how Klingon they are. I put hats in the title as a metaphor, mostly because this blog post on Momentum Gathering has been on my mind a lot lately. I wear too many of them during the day. I have too many job titles. I'm still working on trying to eliminate a few, but it's not working. If I could just keep the one my boss gave me, Ultimate Queen of the Galaxy, I'd be content, because that would mean I'd have lackeys to do my bidding. And my other jobs like: carpool chaffeur, cook, laundress, office slave, maid, publicist, etc. If I were Ultimate Queen of the Galaxy, I could just order all of you to buy my book and love it. And you would, because if you didn't, I could have you shot into a star or stranded on an asteroid by my lackeys in their tight leather outfits. Um, wait. Now I'm channeling a Christmas episode of Black Adder.

Finally, living with children is hard. They are so messy and organic. They demand attention, more than houseplants and cats. They require regular feeding. They need taken to school and other places. They cost much money. At least mine are past the bum-wiping stage. Are they worth it? I think so. Eventually they become fun to talk to and play games with. Eventually they learn how to do their own laundry and cooking and cleaning. Of course, by the time they start doing that consistently, they move away. Then they just bug you on Facebook, asking for money and books and other stuff. But I wouldn't choose to give any of them away. I've got great kids.

Being a writer and doing all these things is hard. My kids keep wondering which dead body they were in that last book I wrote. Or which obnoxious character. Or animal. Or slimy spot in the forest.

I'll never tell. But all writing devolves from real life. That's what makes it good, when those people and places in my head become real to other people, not just me.

Enough rambling. I need more ibuprofen and less work...