Like a strike of lightning hitting me, I realized this week that I'm addicted to promotion. I love it! Okay, not the traveling bit. I'm just not happy sleeping in a bed that's not my own, but I do like the nit-picky stuff that goes with promotion.
Take yesterday, for instance. Out of the blue, I wondered if I should do a library mailing for my upcoming large-print release. I have to tell you, if Mary Fairchild hadn't written to the publisher and complained about the original cover, this would not have happened. But the cover was changed, and it's cute and fun and I found
myself at the old keyboard putting together a postcard and ordering it. It was a real pain in the butt when it came to the backside, and I had to fiddle with it for at least 45 minutes, but in the end, it came out the way I wanted and I hit the send button.
(I also printed out hundreds of address labels for when the postcards come.)
Also, yesterday, I made up my mind that I'm going to order some Haven't Got a Clue coffee mugs. Since I don't drink coffee, I'll just have to drink my morning cup of tea out of it. I think it'll be fun. (And I'm going to give one away in the charity basket I'm making for the Malice Domestic conference next month.)
It shouldn't surprise me that I enjoy packaging up bookmarks and printing labels. The jobs I've enjoyed the most over the years included a lot of nit-picky work. There's a certain satisfaction felt at the end of the day when you can look at something and say, "look what you accomplished."
Ever feel that way?
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