It's a wonder how much online writing is required to market a book. There's this blog, blogs at several different literary social sites, the book's Facebook page, and I suppose I will soon have to be Tweeting, although I feel topped up with technology.
It makes me look at my writing in terms of triage. Which "face" should this writing come out of? I don't want to forget how to form long, full thoughts in tight paragraphs. I don't want to forget how to stretch and luxuriate in the music of language and ideas.
Most importantly, I don't want to sacrifice the kind of writing that is more like composting: the journaling, meditation, and solitary noodling that pulls up the night soil of the unconscious, to enrich the growth of fiction.
And then there's the fiction writing itself. The balance of day job, Mom care, volunteer work, book marketing, and creative writing has gotten tricky.
So please don't take offense if my door is closed sometmes. I'm inside, trying not to log on to Facebook.
