Appy polly logies to begin with, droogies. I have been so wrapped up with moving house and formatting the book and despising the idiot managers at work that I have clean forgotten author contracts. I’ll leave myself a note.
I ended up taking the nuclear option and deleting all formatting. Some stories came in Word (various versions) and some in OpenOffice (likewise) and pasted together it was a horror of a book even without reading it. So I deleted all formatting and am going through putting it all in the same format. This does actually help with the eBook version because random formatting can bugger those up far more than a print version.
Unfortunately… this also deleted any italics or other special format styles you guys needed. Fortunately I still have all the original stories in separate files so I can put it all back. It’s not hard, just takes time.
However… somehow I managed to lose the entire Leg-iron folder from my email. Even Satan doesn’t know how I did this. No he doesn’t. I asked. Forcefully. It’s not in the recycle bin, it’s nowhere to be found at all.
This is some minor angel going ‘Oh, you’re nearly there? Well, let’s see how you deal with this…’ Minor angels have that middle management thing going. They are all total dickheads and I bet they all drive Audis.
I used words like ‘Arsebiscuits’, ‘Fie and Forsooth’ and ‘You Dastardly Poltroon Of An Infernal Calculating Engine’ and other words of a disturbing nature so it’s a good thing nobody lives with me at the moment. They might have died of bad word syndrome.
It’s a real thing. So is second hand bad word syndrome so if you suffer from that, don’t read the paragraph above. You have been warned.
Okay, back to work. I can’t do much on Saturday nights because I work the big shift on Sunday… but not for long. Can’t even have a Saturday night tipple beyond a nightcap because I have to drive next day and Scotland, the home of fine whisky, hates everyone who drinks it.
Interesting variation on the idea of marketing, but it’s Scotland. You can’t expect sense from pissheads.
Okay, back to it. I won’t get far tonight because I have to wake in the morning tomorrow.
Mornings confuse me. All the shadows point the wrong way…