The Gremlins Are Gone!

As far as I can tell. This being my first attempt at publishing, there are lots of ways for me to screw up. A final check-list might have been helpful, but, alas, no such critter appeared on my computer screen.

I did have to take the publication down for a period of time. I forgotted to insert the ISBN numbers on the copyright page. I'm not sure what the consequences are of not having them, but I done fixed it. At least it's fixed until someone else points out another colossal error or omission. Stay tuned 'cause I can assure you that I have missed something really important.

So, let us try this again, shall we....

http://www.amazon.com/If-You-Touch-My-Mind/dp/1515322661/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1439415743&sr=8-1&keywords=t.+a.+seitz

And...I am pleased to announce that gremlins moved out of the Kindle version and the book is now available on ebook. Getting those gremlins out of the house was a true test of my sanity. Ultimately, I ditched the converted file that Kindle uploaded, and do my own upload from my original file. Everything seems hunky-dory now. At least until someone tells me otherwise (see above).

Now it's time to figure out the promotional aspects of this venture. If you have any suggestions, please share.

T.

Drum Roll, Please!

I can officially say "I am published." If you had known me 20-30 years ago, it is the last thing you would have expected to hear from me. But, I have become an author.

For those of you who have been waiting with bated breath:

http://www.amazon.com/If-You-Touch-My-Mind/dp/1515322661/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1439248880&sr=8-2&keywords=t+a+seitz

(Hmmm...you might have to cut and paste. There's a link thingy on here...Somewhere...Oh....)

http://www.amazon.com/If-You-Touch-My-Mind/dp/1515322661/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1439248880&sr=8-2&keywords=t+a+seitz

That did it! Yea Me!

Moving on. This is a contemporary romance set in Texas with a psychology-fantasy bent that I like. Being a romance novel: body parts are mentioned, scenarios are established. God gave you an imagination, have at it.

Gentlemen: It's a romance. It probably won't kill you, but I understand if you opt to not take the risk.

As mentioned in my previous post, I am still having issues with the ebook version. Some gremlin decided to change the font size during the conversion. I don't know when that will be available, but I will share as soon as the gremlin moves out.

Some important requests: Please read, Please share, Please write a review, Please (gently) critique.

I own every error in that little novel. I have tried to do it justice with the help of many: Daddy Hawk and Gun Diva, FAWN, Mimi, the spouse, the Myrtles, and a host of dear friends (some helped willingly and knowingly, others not so much).

T.

I Am Working On It, I Tell You!

My little book is 9/10 of being a reality. There. I've said it.

What about the other 1/10, you ask? Sigh.

In case you haven't noticed, I am not the most "techie" person around. Sure I can navigate my way around most programs and devices with deceptive ease. I can figure out documentation systems, and basically put my 2c whereever I can plug it in, but when it comes to html, zip, unzip, jpg, tif etc, I am clueless. Actually, it is more accurate to say that I just don't care about that kind of "stuff." It's much like legal jargon. Whatever.

Anyway, my attempts to self-publish have resulted in several headaches of the "techie" sort. After formatting, uploads, corrections, re-uploads, cursing, and proofing (not necessarily in that order), I have the non-virtual version of my little book ready to rumble. The virtual version...well, that's just sitting in it's own special barrel of pickled monkeys.

Someone please 'splain to me how the perfect spacing and font-sizing that appears in the non-virtual version, can get so royally screwed in the virtual version. Hmmm? Anyone? Yes, I am aware that the different screen sizes might make minor adjustments, but to take ONE section (and only ONE section), change the font size (New Times Roman 12 to New Times Roman 20ish) and recenter the text into a non-sensical mess DOES NOT COMPUTE, PEOPLE!

I tried to correct the mess. Following the instructions under the supervision of my techie-ish spouse, the html shows that all is perfection. No problemo. So...I upload again (6 times)...Now the one section font change has expanded to the next paragraph, which was perfect before the corrections.

So...Here I sit, waiting for a response from the help desk...twiddling my thumbs. Slowly going insane.

Stay tuned.

T.

Patient? By What Definition?

Hey! It's been a while. Been busy on all fronts. It's tough keeping seven (yes, seven) jobs in line but it keeps the hubby in chips and salsa with a roof over his head. Anyway, KB has kindly reminded me to blog something, so here it be...

I. Am. Not. A. Patient. Person. Period.

This tiny bit of information may surprise some of you, especially those who are used to seeing me crochet quietly in a corner pew on Sunday morning, but it be the absolute truth. I hate to wait. I hate lines. I hate sitting still. I must be doing something or I will go ABSOLUTELY BONKERS. Hence the crocheting.

Crochet is probably the one thing that keeps me out of prison. With a hook and yarn, I can sit for hours, listening to the TV or a sermon or whatever. I can even allow people to ask me what I'm doing and not go insane. (Can't do that with a book) Crochet clears my head and can follow me where ever I roam: sitting, standing, walking, and driving (Uh-huh. Don't judge, you texting fiends!).

But crocheting cannot help me now. I must play The Waiting Game. Why? you ask (out of fear of an answer).

Because...I am waiting for my proof to arrive. Yes, folks, my little contemporary romance novel, with its pretty little cover designed by Myrtle the Younger, is in the hands of an independent publisher and I anxiously await the arrival of my little proof. I received an email this morning that it is being shipped as we sit. (I chose the cheap delivery, which of course takes longer.)

So here I sit. Blogging. I should be leaving for work. Now.

T.

Time to move forward.

Update on the writing contest: I didn't win.

Am I glad I entered the contest? Yes. Did I get a good critique? I think so. At least my feathers are not too ruffled.

I did get a passing grade (if you will call it that). The lowest scored item related to my synopsis which I must admit I threw together in about ten minutes. I got several top marks in some important areas. Yea me!

Ok, moving on. It's time to get to work. I have some good critiques to think about. I do not agree with everything mentioned. But that's good. The critiques are opinions and I have my own. For the most part, I'm going with my gut.

So be on the lookout for a forthcoming announcement in the hopefully not too distant future.

Now to figure out how to publish this puppy.

Go me!

T.

Texas Springtime Road Trip

I just returned from another trek around central Texas. It's good to be Texan.

Last fall, my grandfather passed away at the ripe age of 93. It is through his family that I have roots growing in Texas since the 1830's (Texas became an independent republic in 1836.) After he died, the family decided to scatter his ashes at the old family plot on privately owned land and scattered wildflower seeds in the plot and along the highway to make the location of the plot a little more visible. (We hoped.)

With wildflower season in swing, we decided to make an Easter weekend trip south. Luckily for us, Myrtle the younger announced she had an extra credit assignment due for German III, giving us the opportunity to kill multiple birds with one stone. How, you might ask? German settlements are scattered throughout central Texas with a famous German restaurant in Walburg and a large settlement in Fredericksburg which also happens to be the wildflower capital of Texas.

So off we go with our first stop in Walburg to fill up on saurbraten, schnitzel and a few other German delicacies which I can't spell because I never studied German. Myrtle took her assigned selfie with food and off we went on our quest for wildflowers.

Along the way, Mimi (the resident genealogist) realized we did not have pictures of her grandparent's gravesite in her database (72K names, people!) and guess what happened to be on the way to Fredericksburg--you guessed it--the cemetery.

I love cemeteries. The older the better. In fact, I have a peculiar talent. I find dead people. Put me in the middle of any cemetery and give me a name to hunt for and I will find them in record time. Turn up the heat and humidity and I will find them even faster. It's fun and it drives Mimi crazy. (How do you do that?!? IDK.) The last time I was at this cemetery was in 1985 when my great-grandmother passed away. I did not go to my great-grandfather's funeral in 1992 (Mimi did). That being said, an argument ensued about where their burial plot was located. Guess who found the marker in less than one minute? Yup, went straight to it.

Mission accomplished, we proceeded to Wildseed Farms to see fields of poppies and bluebonnets. Absolutely gorgeous!

After spending the night overlooking Lake Marble Falls, we headed north to Burnet (pronounced burn-it) County where the family plot is located. Since we did not get permission to go to the plot beforehand, we just looked through the fence. No sign of wildflowers in the plot, but along the highway there was plenty of evidence that our seed scattering was productive. Yea!!

Now Mimi wants to get five pounds of seeds for each departed family member and scatter them at the highway and at her property. Stay tuned!

T.

When I grow up...

Like many people I know, I am at a crossroads in life. Since 2012, I have been laid off from two jobs and have spent the last year and a half trying to find the right opportunity.

Now, I hear what you are muttering under your breath. "But, T., you are an occupational therapist. There are tons of jobs waiting for you out there." Yes, there are tons of jobs. (well, not TONS but several) About half of them are pediatric (which we established a few months ago that I am NOT a pediatric therapist--see You're Going To Find Me A Job, Right?) or they are places which I have said I would never consider for multiple reasons.

I get calls from recruiters daily. Some are really entertaining. All of them make me wonder how recruiters make a living. (No, I am not interested in an ock-u-pat-shun-ale ther-a-pest position in my neighborhood...in TEXAS. Do these people know how big Texas is? San Angelo or Corpus Christi is a LONG commute from the Dallas area.) I also find it somewhat amusing (not really) that all of the job descriptions advertised are interchangeable so I can't tell what skills are being sought. (Am I a fit? Can't tell!)

I have been on several interviews and I even walked out of one because they were insane. What I have learned is the healthcare climate has changed so much in the past five years that the company either wants a license with a pulse (which means I don't want them), or they want a new graduate that they can train the therapist to jump through their hoops (One of my soapboxes. Don't get me started.)

So, this leaves me wondering what my future as an occupational therapist might be and asking the question, "What do I want to be when I grow up?" I've been asking this question for longer than I'd care to admit and still have no definitive answer.

For now, I continue as I have. I am on the books with three companies as PRN (as needed) of which two give me somewhat steady work. I have an interview in the morning and one next week for two more PRN positions. I am looking at private practice (which really goes back to the question about growing up). And I am writing and still waiting to publish the first novel until I hear back from the contest. (I have two more novels in the hopper. Obviously, I have too much time on my hands.)

Stay tuned!
T.