As regular readers may have noticed, I haven’t been posting to this blog every day during the past week. The reasons are several.
First, nothing is happening in my life. I am forced to spend all my time alone, away from friends and family, due to the pandemic lockdown. I go out once a week to buy groceries, wearing a mask and keeping six feet away from all other human beings.
All my presentations and readings and book promotion events have been postponed indefinitely. I’ve ordered a webcam so that I can hold gatherings virtually, but it’s delivery has been delayed by the lockdown.
Second, I have finally succeeded in getting myself going to work on one of the novels I had sketched out, Josh at the Door. The story is drawn from my relationship with my partner, Su, who died at the end of March. For three months, I have struggled to get words on paper amidst my grieving over her loss. Now at last the story is starting to flow. That’s taking up time that otherwise would have been spent on blog posts. Writing a novel is a fulltime job.
Third, I have a new novel out, titled Secretocracy, and I have been trying unsuccessfully to promote the book remotely. And this month, my new collection of short stories, called Coming to Terms, will be published. I’ll have to redouble my efforts.
But I’ve learned that a pandemic lockdown kills book sales. I would have expected that Secretocracy, with its focus on the Trump administration, would be selling better than any of my earlier books, particularly with new scandals breaking daily. I’ve heard nothing from the publisher, Adelaide Books. My assumption is that sales are all but dormant—although I learned yesterday that The Palette and the Page bookstore in Elkton did sell one copy of Secretocracy.
So I ask my readers to be patient with me. I’ll write new blog posts as often as I can.