Writer's block

Saturday morning I attended a writers' workshop on publishing and marketing. The discussion revolved around the latest technologies like Twitter, self-publishing on demand and a machine that chunks your manuscript out as a bound book. (There are twenty-eight of these machines around the world at an installation cost of $100,000 each.) I found out that you can get a ten minute e-mail so that you can send a one-off message and not be bothered with your mailbox filling up with spam afterwards.

Speaking of which, on Friday I was targeted by one of those e-mail scams using the familiar name a sophisticated man I know here who claims he was robbed in London and desperately needed money to get back home. Knowing that this was a fraudulent abuse of his good name, I sent a message back. Yes, yes, would like to help, what can I do? A day later, my "friend" is still broke and in London. Nobody has bailed him out yet. The new e-mail suggests that I wire the money to him through Western Union and send an e-mail as I set out for the office. I immediately wrote back and said that I tried to go, but the office was closed when I got there and that I hoped he had sorted himself out. His reply arrived the next day. "Alright no prob. I'll have to reschedule my flight and as soon as it is done, kindly get back to me with the Western Union transfer details. I owe you alot!"

Technology . . . making our lives easier and less complicated.

Attending the writing group is to give me the push I need to get my book finished. This baby has been five years in the making. It's time to give birth. I don't want to give up the daily blogging, so I am going to have to find a way to get this done short of taking a leave of absence from my day job. The reason I have not given up is because I feel it is important to put out a positive perspective for once on schizophrenia. A positive perspective coming from a mother I hope will carry some clout. It would be excellent timing because it would coincide with the growing disillusionment with the biochemical romance that Robert Whitaker's new book, Anatomy of an Epidemic, has demonstrated.

In the meantime, I have the added burden of struggling with the technology and the promotion. Self-publish or hound hundreds of agents to no avail? Twitter my accomplishments? I'm still dubious about Twitter. I fear that I am in a Twittering myself loop most of the time.