No, I don’t need a tree to fall on me to see my novel pass 1600 copies sold, it just sort of happened that way. Yes, a 50 foot Norway Maple crashed down in our backyard at the end of February, clipping two roofs on our home and damaging our back porch, garden fence and deck on the way down.
And yet, it could have been far worse.
Ever lived in a hotel with a beagle for two months?Yeah, neither have I, but I can only imagine what kind of canine madness that would have been. We have all remained nestled snug in our beds right at home throughout, thank God.
While wrestling (literally) with this leafy intrusion, sales of my novel HIGH GROUND quietly topped 1600 copies. I am most grateful to everyone who bought a copy in ebook, paperback or Kindle Unlimited form. If you enjoyed it, won’t you consider leaving a short review on the book’s Amazon page? It’s a quick five-star scoring system and you can leave a brief remark (“I loved it!,” “I can’t wait for the audiobook”, “Hope there’s a sequel,” “I love beagles!” stuff like that.) I don’t do much to promote HG these days, as I’ve turned my attention to finishing the audiobook version and work on a sequel, but your support is truly valuable and MOST appreciated.
Until just this week these few tons of hardwood blew writing and audiobook production clean off of my schedule. Since then, I have worked with our insurance company (provided “worked with my insurance company” can be defined as doing most everything myself until they finally disgorged a check), had friends and family help me get our powerline back on the house and cut a path through the squirrel jamboree site that used to be our patio.
The tree has now been cut off the house, along with culling the damage to the tree canopy above, and all of it diced into sections and most of it cut, split and stacked on property or chipped into a pile of mulch more than six feet high. A cord and a half of fire wood when I finally cried “uncle.” Actually it was my back that cried uncle and the actual word came out sounding more violently slavic than “uncle,” but you get the idea.
A “cord of wood,” for you city types, is a stack of split firewood four feet high, four feet wide and eight feet long.
NOTE: Another half cord of uncut chunks lies in my driveway awaiting someone who would like to claim it for their very own, free of charge, to a good home.
More to follow, now that I am back at the audiobook editing (34 of 41 chapters done) and the writing a sequel (interesting plot lines bubbling up).