Night Beach has gone to the printers. Now, I feel like I’m just kicking around. Listless, a bit cranky. There’s heaps of things I should be doing. I even have deadlines. Instead …
I’ve found new ways to waste time. For instance, I’ve designed a stamp to use for book signings. I’ve been needing a bit more theatre in that department. Other authors have bookmarks, ribbons, feathers, glitter, dirt – all sorts of stuff. But the only time I’ve ever cut loose was at my first book signing. I had to borrow a pen, and I wrote something so stupid I’m not even going to say what it was. It was like a car crash between a motivational speaker and a desk calendar. Awful. Truly awful.
Anyway, the stamp. I started with this (which of course means nothing to you now, but if you read Night Beach all will become clear):
And I changed it to this, with help from Emerson (“Live in the sunshine, Swim the sea, Drink the wild air”) – who is also referenced in the story:
So there you go.
What’s that? You think I should stop wasting everybody’s time and get back to work? You’re probably right.