Trying to relax. Ordering things at a once a week pace, and not getting ahead of myself. 

Saw there was a new documentary about the composer John Williams and watched it midday, which I rarely, rarely do. 

Made me realize, I am surrounded by art. Movies, books, music. Surrounded. It sustained me in my depressive twenties, especially books, but also movies. (There was a couple years where I literally went to every movie that came to Eugene. Every movie. Only walked out on one.)

There is more art available at this moment than any time in history. Art available to everyone. 

My mom had tons of art books. They were black and white, sometimes out of focus. Now we can buy art books in glorious color. When I was young, I had to stay up late, or watch movies in early afternoon, to see the classics. They used to show black and white films, no problem. I'd mark the TV Guide a week in advance.

My house had tons of books and I could go to the library; even so, I felt as if I bought every mass market SF and Fantasy book I'd find in the supermarket spin racks. I still remember being drawn across a room by the first Frazetta cover I saw.

We had to buy our music in albums. In Bend, we had AM radio, tons of commercials. They rarely, if ever, played funk, or people like David Bowie or Kate Bush. 

Now, it's all available any time I want it. In fact, there is so much art, I find myself seeking silence and solitude. I rarely watch great movies a second time because it seems like my older self picks apart movies I loved when I was younger.

Hard to say all this art has made us better, but it certainly has made my life more enjoyable. 

I'm glad I got to express myself in stories. It doesn't really matter if they were good or not; what counts is that they were a creative thing I did for myself. I immersed myself in other worlds and very much enjoyed the journey, 

 

 A pattern I've noticed. I come home from working at the store all day and I want nothing to do with the TV. I generally take a short nap. I'll turn on the fan and browse the internet or read a book.

It's occurred to me that I'm such an introvert that talking to people all day has completely worn me out and even the voices on the TV are too much. Linda doesn't have the same effect, but the jabbering on TV is just something I don't want; commercials are especially annoying.

I don't know. It's taken me until the age of 72 to figure this out. 

Sometimes, after an hour or two, I can make my way to the couch, but even then, I don't seem to enjoy it as much. I turn my brain off and do coloring. Even when I'm not working, I don't want to watch TV or listen to music during the day. I just want peace and quiet.

The idea that people come home from a day of dealing with people, changing clothes, and going out on the town is beyond me. Todd comes to visit and will get antsy in a very short time, head for a local bar where he doesn't know anyone, and have a great time. 

Wow.

When Linda and I went to Australia for a month, we spent at least three days just sitting in a motel room. At intervals. That's a long way to go to do nothing, but boy did I need it. I needed to shut down. I needed to recharge. 

At the same time, I wouldn't switch to being an extrovert for anything. I'd be a leaf blown in the wind, without agency. Whenever I'm pushed into too much social activity, I feel myself losing my balance, my core. Being an introvert is my superpower, my center, my way of thinking and thriving. I don't get bored, even when I'm not reading. I like my own thoughts, or sometimes my own absence of thought. 

I spent years in my own head, constructing my own stories out of thin air, writing 30 or 40 books, of which 25 have been published. It was utterly satisfying. 

The danger for me is is letting this go too far, of being a shut-in. Isolation breeds isolation. I've always thought that Linda gives me about two thirds of what I need in connection, and the store gives me the other third. When it comes time to retire, I'm hoping we can travel, because that would serve the same purpose. 

It's all about knowing yourself, you're own strengths and weaknesses, and instead of feeling bad about them, taking them in stride and maximizing the best parts. 

Joining the Old People RV tribe?

Back from our four day trial run in the Catbus to Crescent City. Stayed at a campground in Hiouchi, about 10 miles from the coast. Working out the kinks. We didn't really use the water or stove this time; we'll try that the next trip. 

Bumped my head four times, almost fell off the ladder one time, ran over a curb once--had to stop and open a curtain in order to see the traffic while people were waiting behind me. The upper extension is just canvass, so it will be cold in the winter, hot in the summer. The bottom bed has a divider which didn't make it completely comfortable. 

Tight quarters, no doubt about it, which makes me wonder about all the camper vans I see around that are even smaller. 

The driving was easy, but the gas is going to cost us. All in all, I think the trip cost us about half as much as staying in motels would. (But we could probably stay in motels about 600 times for the cost of the Catbus, so a money saver it probably is not.)

This is all for the cat, and Jasper took to the whole thing like a champ. Meowed a bit at the first of the drive, then settled down. Adapted instantly the leash thing. He seemed happy as a clam, which is good since he's the very reason we have the Catbus at all. 

All in all, it's camping, with all the discomforts that imposes. 

I do like the privacy, though...and this was probably the most remarkable thing that happened--suddenly old people were starting up conversations with us. Believe me, I'm not used to that, though it happens more often when I'm with Linda.

I think we've the joined the "Old People" tribe; specifically, the RV Old People tribe. Comparing rigs is de rigueur, apparently. I'm not sure if I like it or don't like it. heh.

We're going to try to fit in short trips at least once a month and eventually make longer trips--maybe much longer trips. 

I think I like it. (I always told Linda to shoot me if I got an RV--but it was either that or never go on any trips again as long as Jasper is with us. And I couldn't quite get myself to smother the cat in his sleep. 

Who I'm I kidding? He OWNS us.

The Efficiency Penalty.

 You can be TOO efficient, at least when it comes to collectables. 

I'm going through a collection of comics that sat in a garage for 25 years. Ironically, it's the comics that were in our mall store, which we sold, and which was then taken over by a former employee and friend. In other words, these comics had once been in my possession.

So far I've found a lot of bronze age comics that weren't worth anything 25 years ago, but are now closer to 50 years old and have gained some value. I've also found the first "Walking Dead" comic, which is worth over a grand (Theoretically. In reality, I doubt I'll ever manage to sell it.)

I've found a bunch of #1s that were just starting back then and are now long-running series. 

I'd say 80% of the comics aren't really worth anything at all, but the other 20% at least have a chance of selling, given enough time and space. I'm going ahead and bagging and boarding these comics for backstock, even though only a fraction will fit. 

Maybe 5% are worth anything in reality. So out of roughly 10,000 comics, 500 of them are worthy of attention. 

This is what most collectors don't understand. Only a small percentage of any collection have the possibility of selling, and an even smaller percentage of those will actually sell.

So what do I mean by efficiency?

Well, I discovered years ago that I was very diligent about figuring out which comics are hot and needed to be given some space to sell. So let's say a comic series starts to catch fire. I grab the #1 issue and price it when it's five times its original price.

So far, so good.

But a significant percentage of these are going to keep increasing in value, and if I sold it for five time the value and it increases to fifty times the value, I've lost out. But someone who isn't as diligent will let it sit and suddenly discover it later.

Of course, an awful lot of of the comics I put out for five times the value actually decrease in value over time. That's why speculating is such a gamble. It so much a gamble that I realized that even a comic store owner who is up with the trends is unlikely to outsmart chance. 

I stopped even upgrading the prices on comics about 20 years ago after the comics crash. Once in a while I'd grab a hot comic and increase the price after its selling period (We try to give everyone the chance to buy it at the original price.) I did this more to keep them around for people who were truly interested (after which I ascertained, I would cut the price) and out of the hands of speculators who just wanted to strip us bare and sell online. 

Over the last two years I've bought two large collections, and I'm going through them box by box, and it's been kind of fun. I don't take it too seriously. I price most comics at a base price and don't try to look them all up: I'm sure I'm missing out on some key issues, but more power to anyone who finds them. 

Anyway, I only bring up this "efficiency penalty" (if I may coin the term) because I've never heard it talked about elsewhere.

The eight books I've neglected, but dammit, they're pretty good!

 I asked my publisher, Crossroad Press, if they'd go ahead and publish paperback versions of the last eight or so of my novels that were only in ebook form.

Here's the thing: I was writing so fast and furious for a few years that I didn't want to swamp the publishers or the readers with too much. Even I was feeling overwhelmed--but I wasn't going to stop my hot streak. I was well aware that if and when I reached the end of the streak, I'd probably be through.

I wrote these novels, which are every bit as good as any of my other novels, and just went on with the next book. I promoted the books that were in series, most often, but hardly mentioned some of the stand-alones.

Now that I'm looking at them again, I'm realizing how much I like them. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, I suppose. But when picked up "Gargoyle Dreams," I read it all the way through. This is rare for me. I found it charming.

When I read "Blood of the Succubus," I was a little shocked by how sexually explicit it was, but also impressed by how well written. It's gotten some of the best reviews on Amazon as any of my books.

"Snowcastles/Icetowers" are together as one book, as they probably should have always been. I was still learning, but it is straight-ahead fantasy.

"Star Axe" was my first book and the hardest to write. I can see what I was trying to do, and I'm proud that I didn't just copy LOTRs completely but tried do my own spin on the hero story. The writing, well, I notice all my mistakes, but I think they aren't that noticeable to others.

"Shadows over Summer House" was my gothic: big house, mysterious characters, along with a heist story. This along with Deadfall Ridge and Takeover made me realize how comfortable I was with the suspense genre.

The "Last Fedora" was my story of a gangster enforcer, who was also an unstoppable Golem. This is maybe the quirkiest of my books and because of that...one of my favorites. 

All the above are now available from Amazon or from Pegasus Books, or will be soon.

There are two more on the way: my little Hobbit homage, Freedy Filkens, and my supernatural good-guy(?) serial killer book, "I Live Among You."

 I'm going to go on Facebook and post the links one day at a time.

When all is said and done, I will have 25 books in print, that took about 12 years overall--separated by 30 years of running a store--to write.  

I'm proud of them. I made enough money to call it money, though I also didn't skimp on covers and editing, even when most of the publishers would have been glad to do those, I purchased my own art and editing services because I found a some people who were excellent at it. (Special thanks to Lara Milton for being by far the best editor I've run into.)

It all turned out so much better than I expected. What fun!

I'm not closing the door on writing, but I'm enjoying the store these days and I'm content with having 25 books under my belt.  

"Land of Giants" is full of pygmies.

Reading a book called "Land of Giants" about the settling of the Pacific Northwest. It had a strange vibe that I couldn't quite get a handle on. When the author talked about the "red man" one too many times, I finally turned the the frontspiece and found out it was published in 1956!

Actually, it was fairly enlightened about Native Americans, showing that they were most often the victims of white violence and that their violence was almost always sparked by outrages. But there was a strange sort of "both sides" are bad vibe that didn't quite ring true.

The Indians most often would so some petty thievery, which was then punished by over the top means: hangings in mass, slaughter of men, women, and children. Once the wave of immigrants started showing up, they didn't stand a chance. 

I had read a book about "Stalingrad" just before this book, and what I took away from both books was this: most people are feckless, unaware of their actions and the nature of their circumstances. Most are ineffective or worse. 

The only excuse is that none of them know what's going on around them in full, none of them know what history would say. 

This is a new understanding of history for me. Most people make stupid decisions with too little information. And millions die. 

There is one stand out character in "Land of the Giants." John McLoughlin,of the Hudson Bay Company.  He comes across as steady, competent, and generous, at least compared to almost everyone else, who come across as ignorant, impulsive, violent, and vainglorious. 

No such heroes in Stalingrad.

Bookstore thoughts.

These aren't serious complaints. I'm really having fun at Pegasus, finally seeing people respond to our selection. 

 

It's so interesting to me that people open specialty bookstores. A general bookstore is already "special" enough. In my experience, you need all the customers you can get. Why exclude any of them, much less narrow your reach to a small subset of what is already a small subset? You can still specialize, the way I do genre books, but why cut out a whole audience?

 

And while I'm on the excluding thing, I'm amazed by how limited most bookstores' genre selections are, especially SF/Fantasy, but including mysteries, romance, and horror. (Most stores don't even have a horror section.) I know that I'm inclined that way, but we sell a lot of genre books.

 

Had a guy in yesterday who just insisted I was leaving a ton of money on the table by not selling online. This despite the fact that he could look around my store and see the hordes of customers milling about. I mean, hordes. Hugely busy day. I was already exhausted when he said that.

I mean, how many hours and how much energy do I have? It's a bit like telling a guy who works a 48 hours week that he could make "so much more money" by working 64 hours a week! 

I'll say it again and again and again: Time, Space, and Energy ARE money. Period.

The funny thing is, this was a guy who'd retired at the age of 52. (Hey, you could make so much more money if you were working!)

A couple of days ago, an older couple was telling me how the store in their hometown sold coffee and this and that and the next things. Again, the store was packed with customers, who I'm barely keeping up with. I pause a moment and say, "You know want?"

They look at me expectantly. 

"I....just want to sell  (#@&%*) books."

Fortunately, they laughed.

 

Most frustrating thing about serving customers: I always, always say, "If you're looking for a title or author, just let me know." Ninety percent of the time, they'll shrug it off. But here's the thing: when they actually do ask for a title, I have a very strong hit rate. More often than not, I have the book in stock.

Sometimes they're headed for the door before I finally coax them to tell me what they were looking for...and it seems like when that happens, I always have the book.

I mean, there is only so much I can do. I offer, and sometimes mildly repeat it if I sense they're actually looking for something. But I can't pester them.

Teenagers especially will almost never ask.  (It's a secret...)

And then there are the customers who ask for a book, I show it to them. They ask for another book, I show it to them, they ask for another book, I show it to them.

They leave. 

That was fun. 

And finally, the people who ask for recommendations. I gets all enthusiastic about a particular book, they hold it in their hands, squint at it skeptically, and then hand it back. 

I love people, really I do.