More Wednesday widdles.

Me, watching Linda carry bag after bag of stuff to the car for a single day of work:

"I've heard shopping carts work really well for that...."

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I swear, when you own a business, you see weird patterns in human behavior.

For instance, all this month, I've been doing the majority of my business in the first two hours of the day. But I can remember times when I'd do the majority of business in the last two hours.

Or I get the same types of people in on the same day. (All teenagers, or all middle-aged women or men, or all young families. But even weirder. All tall people. All blond, whatever.)

Or I sell a lot of one product line, and none of the others, and there is no apparent reason. Or three people request the same product after it having sat unloved for years. I'll ask, "Did you see or read something about this?" and they'll say no....

I may have three or four gifts certificates I've sold over the last few months, and they all come in within a few hours.

And so on....

It's like there is some psychic transfer of information, I tell you.

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I'm starting to read like a writer again. I find I'm paying attention to the mechanics of plots more, again. Phrasing. Dialogue.

"Oh, look how he did that." "Could I do something like that?"

When I first started writing, this tendency was so distracting, I could hardly read. I went through a rough couple of years. Then I started incorporating my critical reading and my pleasure reading.

Eventually, the more nuts and bolts awareness fell away.

Now it's back.

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I figure everyone wants to write a book. Own a bookstore. Live in Bend, Oregon.

But....maybe that's just me.

And write a blog.

Insufferably smug little bugger, aren't I?

Hey, it can be a scary world out there. You can allow me some of my illusions, can't you?
I need all the ego boost I can get.

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Thing about writing is that you don't get any respect unless you do it.
Then you don't get any respect unless you finish.
Then you don't get any respect until you send it off.
Then you don't get any respect until you sell it.
Then you don't get any respect until you are a best-seller.
Then you don't get any respect until you are a best-seller -- and a critical success.
Then you don't get any respect because you're a total sell-out.
Then you don't get any respect unless you starting writing another book.
Then you don't get any respect until you finish.
Then.....

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Getting a full dose of New York Times fashion magazine, and my reaction is:

This stuff is perverse and creepy.

I may be a provincial boob, and Anna Wintour would destroy me with her wit.

But....I don't think so. I think those models and those clothes are -- just perverse and creepy.

..............