Today I realized one of the chapters would work for a magazine; it's about the Summer of Love, 1967, and this is fifty years later. But it would need to run this summer, so it needs to be accepted for publication, like, now. So I wrote to a well-connected successful writer friend, asking if she'd consider helping me get the piece somewhere, at least to be seen. Otherwise it's hopeless, it takes forever to get something read and published, if it ever is. So we'll see.
Speaking of professional discouragement, I heard from the publisher of the writing book that soon he'll be sending me a royalty cheque - for the 12 books he has sold. A whopping $58.40. Sigh. I know, I sell it myself to students and keep almost all the profits; the book has paid for itself. But still ... twelve books, and even fewer of the Sixties memoir. And then I heard from a first rate agent I know, whom I'd contacted about this memoir and who'd indicated interest, that now she's too busy and her roster is full.
This business is a series of closed doors, and one of our jobs is to keep knocking. Keep writing, and keep knocking. To tell you the truth, I don't know which is harder.
Another issue, however, was quickly resolved. We always hold our So True events at the Social Capital, which is the second floor of the Black Swan on the Danforth, on the final Sunday of February, May and October. But now, it turns out, the bar on the main floor has decided to hire a band for the last Sunday of every month, to play at exactly the same time as our show. The noise upstairs would be deafening.
An immediate solution - a change of date. Our shows will now be on the FIRST Sunday of March, June and November, starting on Sunday March 5. Hope to see you there - it's our tenth event, and there will be a celebration.