Received via Federal Express priority mail this morning: Fifty-four (54!) boxes of movie promo material for the Dragon*Con Independent Film Festival Track. Both Matthew and the Fed Ex delivery guy were somewhat flabbergasted. I’m amused. Except all those boxes are stacked up in our dining room currently, and I don’t want them just sitting there for the two and half weeks until the convention. We’re going to need some assistance to get them to the convention as well, since we can’t possibly fit all of them into either of our cars.
We opened some of them and they appear to be baseball caps and posters. Baseball caps. Huh.
There will be many freebies. Hobkin is in denial. He refuses to go into the dining room and scampers past the area without looking at it when he crosses the room. Poor little guy!
Also got an email from someone via my Mustalayday Grove website asking about skunk care and keeping, specifically diet and veterinary requirements. I sent them a brief rundown of Hobkin’s diet plan. They asked for more details, so I sent them an example day’s meal for Hobkin as well as letting them know about shots and other basics of veterinary care. They responded that, though they think skunks are cool, they’re just too high maintenance for them.
I feel exceedingly pleased with myself. Not that I’m trying to dissuade people from having skunks as pets, just that I want to do my part to make sure that people don’t adopt a skunk on an impulse without knowing what they’re getting into. If I can bring someone to understand that a skunk is totally unsuitable for their personality or lifestyle before they get one, I count that as a good deed accomplished. There are already too many abandoned animals in shelters who have been neglected or abused, and who have been fed and/or housed poorly, because people didn’t understand what it takes to properly care for them.
Prevention much better than cure. Going to go hug my fuzzwit now.
– Received a polite reject from the Blood Lust anthology on a reprint, with invitation to submit to future projects of the editor.
– Sent out four queries to publishers for a transitional chapter book.
Selling fiction has become an addiction for me, and I mean that in a literal sense. The first sale I made, the adrenalin spiked through me, I went screaming through the house, flapping my arms and hooting like a madwoman (Matthew can attest to my lunatic behavior). I was zingy and gleeful, able to summon up that warm glow of elation for weeks afterward. In fact, it was enough of a high to last me until my second sale, which occurred one year later. Upon making that one, I experienced a similar response, but not as intense. I didn’t have to wait as long until the next sale (about four months this time), and the reaction I experienced from that was comparatively minor. I was excited and happy, but it faded quickly.
Subsequent sales have elicited less reaction, especially to smaller markets, but even repeat sales to big markets don’t give me the same kick as the very first one did. So now I need more frequent and bigger sales in order to get a fix, and I start longing for them sooner. I’m also preoccupied with rejectomancy and response-time predictions. I peer at my logs on a daily basis, even though I know only twenty-four more hours have passed since I last perused them, run stats and figures on my response times, and generally obsess. I also get jittery if I’m kept away from email for any length of time, or if I have to stop USPS mail service (e.g. when on vacation). Hi, my name’s Eugie and I’m a sales-a-holic . . .
In summary: I’m jonesing bad for a sale and it’s been less than a month since my last one .