Swapping Problems

I blew off my doctor's appoint- ment.

I just didn't show. I know that's bad, you don't have to tell me! I got up this morning and had to run about to get there by 9:00am. So, I didn't bother. I was also told to come in whenever I can. I still didn't bother. I sat in my underwear all morning, surfing the web and working on my blog manuscript. While I was engaged in my work, I got curious. My mind started to wander as I cut and pasted blog posts. Something just wanted me to search the term: 'Publish your blog'. So I caved in, alright? And I came up with Blurb. Surfing to the site, I was greeted with the announcement: PUBLISH YOUR BLOG. Yes, this inventive site, constructed by The New York Times, has a downloadable software application that allows you to import your blog into a book template with one single press of a button, manipulate and format it, and then send it to an actual printer, for printing into quality book form and shipped anywhere. What the fuck? Millions are turning their blogs into professionally bound books even as I write.

That's right, the entire world is down- loading, formatting and printing hundreds of thousands of blogs. Standard book publishers don't stand a chance, and probably couldn't give a good goddamn that there was one blogger with a blog to present for publishing. They would probably just tell me to self publish it and get out of their hair. I looked at this site, and I was deflated. I could import, format and publish my blog in a day. Otherwise it will no doubt take me months to prepare to send my manuscript around to publishers, who probably wouldn't even take the time to read it anyway. OH, ANOTHER BLOGGER?? What makes my blog so motherfucking special? Because it's written by a homeless man about his crummy life on the streets? People are trying to take their minds off street dwellers. They're in denial about their uncertain futures. Remember, I'm everyone's Boogie Man. Why buy my book?

Further, I used hundreds of uncopyrightable images in my blog that I've culled off the Internet. While my site is not all that big and popular, the chances of the owners of these pics coming to complain copyright infringement is just about nil. But raise that number exponentially with the publishing of them in a book, and Houston, we have a problem. FUCK!! All this work that I was investing my time into is circling around the commode drain. Should I go any further with trying to present something to overwhelmed publishers, or publish the damn thing myself?

It was noon. This decision had to be shelved for the rest of the day. I was getting hungry and I took stock of my food cabinets and refrigerator. You know you have no food in the house when all you have to eat are seasonings. Begrudgingly, I dressed and headed out. The hallway was clear of the chattering assholes as I emerged and I went downstairs and into the brisk New York afternoon. A light snow was falling as I marched up to the Associated Supermarket: the smallest supermarket known to Man. The minute that I walked in I thought that I would have to punch out this dude that would not step aside as I tried to enter. I had to shoulder past him roughly. He turned around and had a comment but I ignored him and kept on trucking into the crowded store. I got microwaveable dinners, salads, steak and pork. Yeah, steak. I microwave the shit. Sometimes they come out real tough, but they're still good. From there I went to Duane Reade and got coffee and milk, and more microwaveable dinners and side dishes. Before I knew it, I had blew through $80.00. EIGHTY fucking dollars!! Jeezus. I'm on a 1700 calorie a day diet and I can't keep food in the house. This eighty dollars worth of food would not last me the month.

Disgustedly on both sides of my day, I return home to make lunch and get behind the computer again. I went back to that fucking Blurb site and looked at it again, trying to make a decision, and I see that you can construct a professionally bound 5x8 B/W book with color covers for something like $8.95 a copy. And I can buy as few or as many books as I want. This intrigued me. Remember my resolution was to (and it wasn't a New Year's resolution either) start to self publish my poetry books. Well, this could be the perfect outlet for such. I download the software called 'Book Smart' and take the tutorials and actually learn how to make a book. I use pictures from my blog that I took and form and shape out the template for the book. Then with the click of a button there was an import tool that would pull the text from nearly any goddamned source. I chose Word for Windows, and it went, got the text of my first book written: A MIND GONE TO WASTE, and poured it into my template. The import went through with only a few kinks. I spent the rest of the day cleaning up the import and adding more text and graphics until by the evening I was all done. With the click of another button I imported the damn thing to the website and I was then able to buy copies of the book at about $9.00 a pop.

Shit. I had a published book in less than a day. On Monday I'm going to put some money on my credit card and buy a few copies to see how they turned out. Yeah, if you can't beat 'em, become their whore, that's what I've always said. Now all sorts of opportunities began to open up in my mind. The sheer power of being a publisher got to me. Or now, a published writer, even if it is SELF-published. Holy shit! Now I can be like the other poets that bring their books to the poetry readings and leave them on the 'poetry tables' for sale to their fellow poets. I'm overjoyed. I can buy a few copies, say like twenty or thirty dollars worth, and resell them at poetry events. Hot damn!

And I have the material for at least five more books, which I intend to publish every last one. That's right. Get them all out and into the hands of others. I don't care how good or bad they are, they're getting out.

I am proud of myself today. I've solved one problem, created another, and went food shopping.

Not a bad day, if you ask me.

Hobobob