Life of a Publisher

Work Log: Tuesday

2009-05-06T01:30:00.000-07:00

Sleep eluded me until 9:00 and so waking at 12:45 to get ready for work on the farm at 1:00 was... interesting. Reminded me of high school. Ugh. LOL!

Actually, all was fine since I had just enough time to wrap myself in flannels, jeans, tee, sweatshirt and a New York Yankees hat and brew a large up of strong coffee. I then three some generic cookies and crackers into a baggy with our work gloves and away went Brianne and I.

Ah... but farm work was not meant to be :( Instead, in the spattering of rain of wind (good that the storm missed us) we shoveled three tons of 3/4 minus gravel onto a muddy drive to a client's home and then raked and leveled it. Back breaking? Not quite but hard work done at a break-neck speed. I am not interested in standing still or moving slow when work is right in front of me.

Home for an emergency work meeting about an order and to clean up and change, obviously. Slept from 7:00 to 10:00 and then had dinner. Tried to shake the sleepiness but wound up playing three quick games of mancala with Cris (the first social time we've had in four months) and then signing into my email. 25 messages. It is now 1:50. I am contemplating working the night shift but even as I type this I am slowly dying.

Okay. I'm not dying... but my chin is on my keyboard and I'm laying in the middle of the floor. I think perhaps sleep tonight and waking at a normal time tomorrow. The day (tomorrow) is looking a bit insane. I don't look forward to it but sleep will change my attitude.

Work Log: Monday

2009-05-05T07:06:00.000-07:00

"The best leaders are the hardest workers. They do not stand and direct. They lead by example."

Oh... I certainly try.

Yawning seems a little redundant right about now. It is 7:17 a.m. om Tuesday morning and I'm turning in after working my night shift... which followed an evening shift... which followed the day teaching school to the children with Brianne. A twenty-four hour days always seemed a strange number to me but now I understand it is divided that way so that those extra four hours are the ones spent sleeping :)

The day included much math with Maxwell which felt wonderful. We focused exclusively on division and multiplication in story problems. I had planned to move on to spatial relations (creating 3D objects from 2D shapes and converting 2D to 3D) but before I could explain the lesson to him he explained it to me, pointing out naturally everything I had in store to teach him. Serves a woman right for trying to teach a man about spatial relations. There's a reason why they tend to be better gamers LOL!

The day continued with an adventure with Faith taking pictures of the office and some of the staff. She still needs to shoot snaps of Cris and Launa as somehow they escaped her lens. I run the photos in the May issue of The News (which I wrote and posted today).

I managed transferring funds around ($10 to cover a library fee; $175 to pay a bill) and answered email (only fourteen). Made plans to work on the farm again for most of Tuesday -- hm, nothing like hard labor on four hours sleep. Yay! :) I'm actually glad for the money. Groceries would be nice right about now. Finished up this busy work by transferring a few (three? five?) book files to Launa for changes.

I typed Max's blog for him (he dictates) and laughed very hard. His characters have so much random fun.

Added the ordering information and Booster Box change to the MG3K catalog... oh... I just remembered that I need to add the Harper and Ganymede descriptions to the catalog and the website. Oh... sigh. I expect better from myself. But I really can't open the files now... I've gotta get some sleep. Will have to add them tomorrow.

I created the first prototype for a packaging box we need for a specialty item. First try fits 90%. Will tweak it tomorrow and then create the graphic template for Brianne... she doesn't know yet that I'm adding the seven variants to her schedule. She may come to hate me.

Ran errands as needed -- the bank; dropping off clothes the children of grown out of at Goodwill (I cannot sell them... it doesn't seem right when everyone is hurting right now); grocery store to buy what we could today (cheese, cereal, crackers and hot dogs), and a walk through the tiny local mall so the kids could "ride" on the escalator. I enjoyed walking through the bead store there -- incredible colors. Reminded me and Faith of a dragon's treasure horde.

Hm. Maxwell just woke up and needs comforting. Signing off for the "night," indeed :) Bless you all, authors! I'm still proud to be your publisher.

Work Log: Friday, Saturday, Sunday

2009-05-04T02:08:00.000-07:00

I think more than anything, the thing that baffles me is that in a working class town like Port Orchard, every single person I speak to (including bookstore staff and owners) have no idea what a publisher is. They assume that everyone is iUniverse or PublishAmerica -- authors send in manuscripts of whatever quality; author pay money; "publisher" prints the book. Done deal. This is not a publisher. This is a printer. Why are these vanity press and self-published books not taken seriously by review journals? Because they have no checks and balances. The *author* thinks he has a quality manuscript... but the author also *wrote* it. No editor. The written word becomes a commodity; not an art form. I won't even go into everything else that a real publisher does for an author (I think www.mardigras3000.com speaks for itself) except for this: passion.

On Friday I had the singular honor of finalizing the proof for the new edition of "Still Life with Buddy," one of our very first titles but an author who was an inspiration to me long before I was her publisher... or before I could legally drive, for that matter. These projects are why I love my job. Which is a powerful thing to say while I snuck in time to re-bill late-paying web clients... the job that helps pay my bills so I can sit here and lay out this gorgeous book by this powerful author.

The day threw me a few more balls to juggle but done of them were dropped. The MG3K Launch Catalog (there are four dozen products in the brand) looks beautiful with a grunge watermark on each page (designed by Brianne) and clean, consistent, concise, crisp (any other C words?) stat layout and descriptive panels. Now I just need to create the mock covers from Brianne's original artwork -- novels, comics, boxes, booster packs... a lot of mocks but it'll all be worth it.

I review Launa's progress on the OHP catalog. It also looks very clean. A trend basic approach. I think we may add relevance statements to the pages in the form of embossed/shaded sidebars. I think that may be worth it. I'll mull it over.

Email, as always, but it is important to keep on top of. I live with most of the staff right here, of course, but carving out time to talk one-on-one with me... is very, very rare. Email manages this best.

Capped the day with trimming 40 books... and then spent all of Saturday trimming more between working on the catalog further. I rewrote all (but two) of the product descriptions to give them more punch and tailor them to the demographic. That prime 18 to 25 year old male gamer audience.

While I was cooking or cleaning, Cris worked on my computer. Using an incredible tech forum she was able to completely fix the machine -- no more viruses, no more issues of any kind whatsoever. All for free. Unreal. Intensive but I am beyond thankful.

Saturday passes in a blur. No grocery shopping. No money to shop with. I'll wait until Tuesday and work on the farm again. There might be more hours this week. I thank God I have the body to manage the work-out of the cutter on top of the farm work... and get by on five hours or less of sleep. I think of my grandmother Elsie. My grandmother never asks, "How long can you handle this?" like one would expect her too. She grew up on a farm. She worked all her life and still runs her household. She never asks the question because the answer is obvious, "Until the day I die." More work on the catalog. More trimming.

The Sabbath arrives and I watch dawn dissolve into 8:30 a.m. before I turn in. I sleep for five hours, deeply and with vivid dreams of flowers and vines drawn with colored Sharpies. 125 books trimmed today. Plus 30 cut and collated and the printers supplied and maintained. Brianne and I play the stereo so loud that I think the neighbors could make out lyrics. When we get ahead of the printers, we pause to dance. The children run in the rain and dance with us. Cris packs orders and balances out her week's schedule.

I feel very... alive.

The yard is an explosion of greens.

Work Log: Thursday

2009-05-01T07:02:00.000-07:00

The yard and surrounding woods are flowering so beautifully -- both blooms and leaves and evergreen needles of a middle tones of green. I am silenced by the gift I find every time I step outside.

Today, the rabbits turned on the new liter of five babies and tore them apart. We couldn't get into the atrium fast enough. I understand that they are animals and wild, to so extent. I understand that being a farmer/rancher (even of just rabbits) is to see nature in a different form -- more raw and sometimes more brutal. But it was still hard. There is something nightmarish about very white rabbits and very red blood. It was a moment that seems almost unreal.

Launa and I went over the OHP print catalog. She has already finished the fiction section. We agreed on tweaks and fine-tuning. It will be beautiful in the end and allow us to easily pitch our titles for film and other sub. rights buyers.

Dove into editing the font in the premium font creation software (high resolution, amazing control and tools) trail version. I have thirty calender days to use it. I'll just need today. Not only do I edit out all the profanity and street-talk (slang and smack), but I expand the font to include more than a dozen scalable missing punctuation symbols. Brianne steps in when I feel my eyes are going to fall out (after about four hours) and finishes off the set with a masterful ampersand.

Answer twenty-eight emails.

Complete two four-page staff monthly evaluations.

Trim forty books.

Layout the new edition of our classic title "Still Life with Buddy"... one of those actual first books we dealt with propane tanks to pay for the print run.

Send interior files to Launa to do changes.

Design and layout the MG3K catalog.

Sleep... considerably after dawn. But the sunrise through the woods was... breath-taking.

Work Log: Wednesday

2009-04-30T23:25:00.001-07:00

I remember in '94... we were working with a high-brow printer in the Midwest who charged a premium and demanded we print 5000 copies for a price break on recycled paper. The company had no operating capital because I had just bought out the previous owner and her Board of Directors. It was just me, Cris, and four authors (all of whom are still with us, by the way) -- two of whom were poets (yes, we have never been driven by money). We had an astronomical print bill to pay. How would we do it?

Cris and I work six days a week, ten hours a day, pinpointing foul and ruined propane tanks -- painting ones that could be salvaged, tagging problematic ones, clearing brush, beehives and brambles, beating off guard dogs, calling the fire department for leaking hoses, and relocating bird nests made under spider-infested tank caps. It was Ohio. It was summertime. It was 110 degrees in the shade. We drove 3000 miles back and forth, criss-crossing that beautiful State those two months. And we raised $6000. Is it any wonder that we are still together, the best of business partners, fifteen years later? Trial by fire indeed.

Today was another one of these days -- a day when I step outside the world of publishing and computers all together in order to fund this company I love. This time, because of Cris' evil respiratory bug, it was me and Brianne -- and the children too! Off we drove to the little farm in Ollala. We worked for just two hours preparing a 30 x 30 steeply sloped chicken yard -- removing all rocks and sticks, raking down the soil, hauling and spreading new soil, spreading grass seed -- but earned $10 a piece an hour and the forever respect of the contractor who had hired us for never breaking, rarely speaking, and working *very* fast and very well. The money paid for groceries, in truth, but this then allowed me to take the $35 in the business account and purchase paper. It was hard work but I was raised that hard work is the only kind there is and I value those two hours. I'm glad my children see that their mom can kick butt at manual labor as well as at tech-head stuff.

Later that day, I meet with Launa for an hour and half about a new CCG operating system. The work went smoothly as we reviewed 55 cards and made a major decision about the location cards and the overall atmosphere of the game as presented by the character cards. We also decided how to market the game, the price tiers (though not the price points) and the inclusion of fiction in the PHB.

Fixed the issue with the CAD object of Hylonome's mask (needed for MG3K illustrations).

Found booth CAD item needed for the MG3K comic "Under the Influence" (not a reference to drinking).

Answered twenty-two emails.

Final checked and re-uploaded the "Advanced My Adventure as a Scientist" (changing back font color and front banner color... after the ridiculously irresponsible out-source print house destroyed their color-matching ability) as well as "Makoona."

Late into the night I discovered that the custom branded font we use for MG3K has tiny street-talk and profanity folded into some of the letters. The program I need to alter the font is $80. I shouldn't have to say what an obscene about of money this is for us. It might as well be $80,000, seriously. There is no way. So... I made the decision to load the trial version of the program on the kids' computer and tackle it tomorrow.

Sleep at dawn. The bird's were singing. It felt like a very good day.

Work Log: Tuesday

2009-04-29T04:31:00.000-07:00

I wonder sometimes if God will slight me for popping NoDoz 'round about 4 in the morning. I suppose it could be Provigil, after all. But then I look at my children, crazy little laughing, happy-screaming creatures leaping over the couch to tackle Cris at considerably past midnight, and I know for certain that He'll understand.

Today:

Called to check an incorrect reservation. Played "he said, she said."

Researched WAVA (Washington Virtual Academy) only to see that their requirements still list the WASL. What's with that? Well, it just means I'll have to fight that fight... again. I have nothing against standardized tests (well, okay I do) but rather I have a problem with placing my son in a virtual academy specifically to create a safe non-public environment for him only to have him subjected to once a year public testing. Not going to happen. Now I need to find my WASL Opt Out form... *sigh*

Updated the submissions file, making notes about our authors who have sent in new manuscripts and where these are in the process of being reviewed.

I hear from Nate (the first printer) via the phone. What a surprise that he didn't remember he didn't have my email. Launa takes his phone call and I prep files for him (PDFs and TTFs) and email him from a generic account.

Trim 100 books. Dear gracious, I love that cutter. Powerful machine that it is. During a ten-minute downtime span I print scripture and lyrics along one metal side with a black Sharpie. See? Only the boss can get away with stuff like that. Can you tell this boss girl grew up in the Projects? ;)

Took care of the rabbits. Fourteen. Very healthy and looking strong. Shoveled out a wheel barrel of "rich rabbit soil" for Brianne to wheel to the planters. Faith and I then score the orchard ground and seed it with free grass seed we got from their stint in WAVA the first time. Then we planted flower seeds from my mom in the planter.

Applied some basic side-hacking to a CAD product that Brianne needed for "Under the Influence."

Answered sixteen emails.

Trained Launa for one hour on submissions. She took to it very well.

Created a template for the Mardi Gras 3000 catalog.

Fixed an issue with the OHP website directory.

Transferred files and finalized four books.

Fell into exhausted sleep knowing that on Wednesday, Brianne and I will take the children and go work turning and sowing a local farmer's chicken yard to earn enough money for groceries. I thank my mom for getting us the job. I thank God for allowing me to feed my children.

I want to dream of sunflowers. I don't know why. I just do.

Work Log: Monday

2009-04-28T02:41:00.000-07:00

From the top:

Researched our top twelve commercial printers in Washington. Narrowed the field to Kitsap County. Was very pleased to find five. Called all five and chatted them up. Got a feel for the staff and spoke with the owners. Two were husband/wife teams. One was a family team. What am I looking for here? An out-source to step in while the campaign builds momentum. We need a local print house who can print our covers until we reach Step 2 of the campaign and bring in a cover machine. The current out-source... five days plus shipping? Need I say more.

I pace while I make the calls. I need to read tones of voices and pauses. I am... notoriously... not fond of printers. The saying around me is literally, "Printers lie." But this, of course, is too harsh. They don't all lie. Just all the printer's I've ever worked with... in fifteen years. I simply want set prices. Two day turnaround. Consistent quality, color and finishing. And the flexibility to shoot digital files with custom fonts that must be manually assigned. Is that so much to ask? As Brianne said to me today, "I'd print anything you wanted for $40K a year." Because, yes, that's what we pay out for covers every year.

On a roll on the phone, I then called to set up delivery of the new interior printer.

Then called the company that supplies the children's History lessons. Oh my dear Lord. Unreal. Like a cell phone contract with (surprise!) predatory pricing. $9.95 a month plus $70 every time the kids complete a year to set up the next year (which lasts them a few months). Cue the great big sigh from this mama. What do I need to hock to cover this? Gracious... and canceling the contract is $175. But I did just lecture (in a good way) the children on the importance of history.

Moving along...

We decide to hit one of the printers today before we need to get the truck back to Cris. These guys are local. I throw on black jeans, leather boots, white cotton button up. The current acting manager is twenty-four with a gauged hoop earring and a tiny little pointy beard. I remember to take off my sun glasses so I can have a conversation with him not looking at my eyes. But this is also part of what I do for my company. I have to make a lasting impression. Which means I need to impress whomever the audience happens to be. Cross demographic. Ultra professional and ultra educated in the subject at hand... but also relateable.

Back home I manage email (38); transfer files; create a template for the OHP catalog; organize my week; balance the campaign budget, and then, at about 10:30 (pm) I head upstairs to the attic room.

We call this room the Sky Room. It took us ten years to finish this ten by twelve space, boxed in a stolen space high up in the eaves. Stained the boards warm oak. Looks like a cabin in the wood with two skylight that seem to rest right below the stars. We've lined the room with blue Christmas lights and I sit down behind my small glass desk at one far end. Only the blue lights are on. I write for three hours (the story I've been assigned). It finally does come together and I feel confident. At this rate of sharing the required information, though, it'll wind up a novella... hm. Would that be a bad thing?

At midnight I tuck Maxwell into bed. Then back downstairs to check in with Brianne about cover progress. Cris edits upstairs at her desk.

This seems to be the longest Monday on record... but a very, very good one.

Work Log: Sunday

2009-04-27T05:15:00.000-07:00

Stunning to me how quickly a week can go by when a person wears so many hats. Perhaps "juggles so many balls" is a better metaphor really.

The children's school continues to go well but they completed their History (a year's worth) in three months. Will the service roll over to the next year of History? Not sure yet. Realized we have Maxwell's year in Math and his next year so we're tight there. I'm so relieved. But... I am seriously contemplating re-enrolling them in the public WAVA program come September. I can't stand the hoop jumping but the lessons are solid and I trust the pacing. It really all comes down to how the government reacts to the WASL and the continued requirements for face-to-face meets with the "teachers" (and with no classroom experience between the last two we were assigned, I use that term loosing) WAVA employs.

On to other matters:

Cris manages the print jobs. Launa cuts the signatures in half and collates the halves, separating them with colored sheets. Brianne scores the covers and binds the books. I trim the three rough edges. We have complete control. We made more than 500 books working only a few hours on it this week (since we had other tasks). We will do so much more when the Campaign is successful. I just need to help people -- all our supporters -- that this is so within our reach.

I have become increasingly frustrated in the meantime. Authors, stores and libraries want their books faster. Consistent quality. Cheaper shipping. Everyone wants this. Only bringing printing in-house can give them to them all. We actually did have a bookstore (who we have worked with for fifteen years) come forward and pledge $100. It was incredible. They *got it,* they understood. We've done right by them -- steeper discounts, delayed payment when they had times rough. But the bottom line? They want books faster. I want to give them that.

Last week's production was certainly not all my work load. I also brokered a deal for Step 1 of the Campaign. Doubling our black-and-white output capacity by adding another commercial machine. I secured a ten-year warranty (which is unheard of), and a bundle with ink and all the bells and whistles. All this for playing nice with the owners and knowing when to send flowers and when to gift Beanie Babies and when to ask for 1/4 the market price and let them get their way by closing the deal at half the market price. Times are rough. Any sales is a gift, right? But my job here (one of my jobs) is to secure the impossible.

Becky? Gregg? Eliane? Mike? Chris? Gordon? This first step is possible because of you. I worked very hard to turn every dollar into ten and I succeeded. Thank you for believing.

The rest of my hours were spent finalizing www.MardiGras3000.com. The site tripled in size and functionality increased 100%. The coding was a delightful challenge and I learned a lot. Still to do (but which will have to be pieced into my schedule, not granted dedicated time): the redo of the buttons; the adding of the rules; adding the instructional YouTubes; adding the virtual game. All of this will be handled by yours truly. I should mention here that this author (EJ) was instructed to do all of this site by in a marketing campaign designed specifically for her brand by Ryan. She called more than a dozen firms getting prices and found I could do more for her for less money. Of course, I am dedicated to her brand for several reasons... but even more so, I am willing to give her a priority as a web client because she is doing the hard work that her campaign recommended and has already seen the bottom line sales results.

Over the weekend I snuck in more production and meshed eight new CAD frames for use in one of th forthcoming comics. Felt good. Honest work that tests my spatial skills. Gracious knows, I gotta keep those crisp.

Also reviewed the consolidation of 16 GIG of MG3K files and posted an extensive checklist of deadlines on the in-the-house white board in the dining room. I mean... don't all mamas have huge white boards in the dining room?

Said grace at dinner. Cried. Maxwell ate burger soup.

The new week brings lighter production and heavy layout. Cris is (at 2 a.m.) cleaning up my laptop, scrubbing off viruses and other bad stuff. ... I miss it. My laptop I mean. This tiny kiddo machine has none of the programs I need.

I wonder if I can work while the anti-virus does its thing... hm.

Work Log: Tuesday

2009-04-22T02:35:00.000-07:00

Brianne's idea: Teach school to the kids at the park near by. It was a great idea... except for Maxwell's public anxiety. I know he needs to be exposed safely in order to function in the world (which does have other people in it) but sometimes it's so painful to watch my nine year old son terrified of a two year old stranger.

When the park cleared for short periods of time, Maxwell played on the slides and tubes. I enjoyed the fireman's pole. Felt like I was in elementary school again. I guess some thins you never forget how to do.

Rolled coins ad bought Dilly Bars (ice cream) for $6 and fries for Launa (who doesn't like ice cream) to surprise the family.

The sun was so strong. Felt like summer.

Started on submission review and wrote personalized rejection slips with feedback. The WSC backlog is daunting but my focus is on OHP's direct submissions; I'm providing no more than three day turnaround. I call Cris in for larger and more serious projects, of course, but most submissions are obvious yes' or no's.

Work involved the first of two long stretches of webwork. Wound up cutting it in half to fit in email, transferring files, and updating the manuscript database. Also sent a manuscript to Brianne for possible illustration. Just a hunch. Might work out.

Stopped at 2:30 a.m. and turned in early. I think I'll totally beat this cold (which has now stolen Cris' voice completely) if I just continue to play it smart.

Work Log: Monday

2009-04-20T18:56:00.000-07:00

Strange, but I intended these work blog to simply be lists. Lists written by staff who all live at the same address but who almost never work the same shifts; communication has to be creative. But the truth quickly became clear: Our entire community wanted to share in the everyday events, both ups and down, break-throughs and the mundane.

Monday consisted of math, history and creative writing with the children, followed by a very late lunch (around dinner time). Mixed into their school time was email and four hours of work on a client website in order to cover bills. I learned a long time ago, however, that working on other projects always benefits OHP and not just financially. Yesterday's work required me to code in a way I had never done before to create a very specific widget. Doing this made several pieces fall together and I now know how to deal with the fact that on the turn of the month, our hosting service will cease to support the specific SSL we were using. Our cart is fine but we were going to lose our online order forms; now we won't.

After lunch at dinner time, I was able to pull together files for Launa and Cris and sort my late-day email and files. Then I paused to bill the web client and found a work order from another. I coded these changes and billed them. My work returned to the MG3K website. I thought I'd need five more days but I'll only need two more heavy days and I'll be done. Then I can return to layout which is just as fulfilling but faster to each completion point.

I shut down at 5:30 a.m. and listened to the birds for a while before falling asleep. Balancing the large projects with my everyday tasks is a welcome challenge.

Work Log: Sunday

2009-04-20T02:56:00.001-07:00

Normally, I do not work in the office on the Sabbath. I reserve that day for impassioned work... can you see my grin? You know what I'll say next. Since this job certainly doesn't pay my bills, isn't the reason I do it impassioned? I cannot imagine a life more complete. It scares me sometimes how fulfilled I am by this work more than anything else. Does that make me a shallow person? And I have been doing this for more than half my life. Am I simple-minded to feel so blessed?

Hm. I suppose only God knows and He's hidden the truth inside showers of particles and flavors of quarks. I think I'll just keep living.

Normally, however, the majority of my Sunday is spent in manual labor in the yard or house. Repairing, cleaning, mucking out, moving rocks or brush around. The remaining time is spent with the kids. We all like to watch food shows. And of course there's more than two hours of group reading every single day.

But today there was breakfast and then Brianne, Cris, the kids and I all shifted over to the office. We took breaks running around (except for Cris, who is bravely battling this cold) and drawing with chalk but the hours were spent with Cris packing books, Brianne binding books and me trimming the books. When I was waiting for more books to trim, I slapped in a Cher CD and toggled the bass way up. Trimming is very sweat-inducing work (because of the manual clamp) so I was already stripped down to my tank top and jeans, so dancing with the kids was a great way to make them smile. My mother always said that she refused to raise a daughter who couldn't dance and as some of the only white kids in our neighborhood, not dancing simply was not acceptable it seemed.

By the end of the day (at 1:30 a.m.) we had moved 200 books through the process and Maxwell said, "I can't wait to work for Orchard House Press. I used to be nervous but now I see how it all works and I love it."

Brianne touched my hand, "He's your son."

I felt so proud.

Now it is 3:15 a.m. and I'm waiting for Max to settle into dreams. I'll head downstairs then and coding more on two different client websites. I think I'll be done about 7 and then catch some sleep until the alarm goes off. I don't want to go into the week behind.

I thank God -- and all the people who support us -- for allowing me this life.

Work Log: Saturday

2009-04-18T16:11:00.000-07:00

Visited with my grandparents. Grandfather didn't get out of bed. It was good to see my grandmother... but the visit was not "okay" as I had thought it would be. I worry about him.

Five hours:

Completely revised three months of scheduling (my own) to accommodate more layout.

Meeting with Brianne and extend her check points to match the extra projects she has been given plus the heavier production work load.

Meeting with Cris about managing her day to day tasks while still moving large projects forward.

Collapse and sleep after Airborne and EmergenC.

Work Log: Friday

2009-04-17T23:06:00.000-07:00

I want to find a #6 plastic container. I read online that you can make Shrinky Dinks from the thin plastic. The kids love Shrinky Dinks but the real sheets are hard to find and pre-drawn with designs and expensive. I really love About.com.

Grocery shopping today. No school because Maxwell sees his doctor on Friday and is in no state for lessons. Faith, Brianne and I will go. SaveaLot just came to town. A week's worth of grocery for a household of adults and children for $100. This week I have $50. We'll be fine.

Once before, when times were rough (Hah! It was nothing like this!), I applied for food assistance (not cash assistance... I couldn't do it). Every horror of growing up poor rushed back to me and I was *impossible* to live with, to work with, to even talk to. I was so very angry. Then, after three months of assistance, they (the State) asked me to prove that my children had no father. I have never been so humiliated as an adult. My life is my business... but, of course, it isn't when you turn to the State. I jumped through their hoops because we needed milk, bread, cheese and juice. One month later I started my side-job building websites to-spec exactly how clients wants them (as opposed to what some firm tells you looks good). It was a different kind of selling myself but at least one that didn't fill me with shame.

Spring has arrived in full force today. The sun is neither soft nor pale. She washes the entire property in molten gold and I feel encouraged, impossibly, even as Cris shares that grocery money was accidentally automatically deducted by UPS and I have to be creative with $30 for seven days, three adults and two children. I refuse to show the children anything but a calm face. They are aware of money issues and they know what comes first: Keeping the house. And next: Food in the fridge. Everything else happens on a case by case basis.

Today I need to run errands (obviously), answer email, and (fingers-crossed) finished the client webwork. Then rescheduling. Saturday will be spent away with my grandmother. She says that grandfather won't get out of bed anymore... but she knows he will if I visit with the children. My father, his only son, was murdered when I was four and as the first born grandchild and my father's first born child, there are certain responsibilities and an emotional response that I have with my grandfather. And it doesn't hurt that I've provided him with his only two great grandkids ;) He'll get out of bed. It'll be okay.

Work last night went late. Saw not only the sun come up but heard the hungry baby birds singing for their breakfast... and their following snack. Again, that sense of hopefulness surged through me. I felt lucky not to be working at a corporate job... or stocking shelves... or selling cars... or real estate. I don't think I would be very good at any of those things. I'd best stick to CEO of OHP and bowing down and playing stupid for all my web clients. Hm. The things we do for love. Meaning, of course, my love of publishing.

Back to work about dinner time. Today's tasks:

Email.
Layout.
Webwork coding.
Fixing cover errors in the 2-Up process.
Scheduling.
Meeting with Cris about budget.
Meeting with Brianne about her schedule.
Email exchange with Launa about task juggling.
Layout.
Archiving.

Break for coffee at midnight.

Production. I learn to score covers within a 1/16 of an inch. If this step is done wrong the entire book will be ruined. I love learning how to do this. I score more than 200 covers with a great big grin on my face. I wonder how many software boxes Bill Gates folds. Huh.

Brianne binds sixty books.

I trim the sixty books. Using the cutter (24 inch blade, great big sound, manual clamp wheels, digital read) is a bit more satisfying than the tiny scoring wheel blade for scoring covers. But I guess since I don't adore cars, I have to be attracted to another type of big machines. Printing press machines (okay... and motorcycles) are my thing.

At 2:00 a.m. Brianne and I look at each other. We are both feverish (totally flush) and sniffling. Cris was sneezing and running a fever earlier. I make an executive decision: "Don't even *think* about getting sick! *None* of us has any room in our schedules to get sick! Shut everything down. We're working Sunday. Too bad. Sleep between now and then. Go!"

And that's just what we did (with Airborne and EmergenC vitamins mixed in).

Work Log: Thursday

2009-04-17T04:04:00.000-07:00

The sun is still pale but grower warmer. Kelly gave the children sidewalk chalk. I draw a flower. We play street hockey. We free-run. I remember earning my first black belt and the sense of accomplishment I had. The sense of prowess and strength (physical and otherwise). I look at my children and I feel all of that... and so much more.

My day begins and I try not to think of the message that greeted me in my inbox. The relatives we loaned money to five years ago, by taking a second mortgage out on the house, have lost their jobs and cannot make the payments any more. Starting this month. $400. Dear Lord... where am I going to find $400 in fourteen days? And then in another thirty days... and again... and again?

The day unfolds and she's a beautiful one...

History with the children (Maxwell peer-teaching).

An issue with an article missing from The News.

Phone meeting with Cris about facts that need to be shared.

Email (12 messages).

An author writes and offers to animate one of Maxwell's Baby Squirrel stories and put it on YouTube. He just needs audio and pictures. This will drive sales of Maxwell's book. I agree with much excitement.

Download images for a new CCG that's come in. I've been commissioned to design the OS (operating system) and the pictures are an incredible inspiration.

Meeting with Cris about out-source issue with custom fonts (the issue never dies with those people!). Insist she get their "solution" in writing.

Fix error with an in-house production file. Re-PDF. Re-backup to storage.

Re-upload. Call Cris so she can send the job.

Production (trimming) of 134 books.

Lunch (coffee and a corndog).

Math with Maxwell (finding facts in a graph).

Checking the attic for status on the ant infestation. Only one ant found... alive.

Locate my harp strings (need to make some extra funds for the company).

Locate my OS notes on the A&C CCG (potential sales of custom decks).

Website work continues.

15 more emails.

Website work.

Fixing an error on a cover (that I missed -- totally my fault).

Website work continues.

Dinner at 9:00. Rice. Very good.

Website work.

Problem with java coding in the buttons. Want to die pretty much now.

Online generator has shifted to a paid service. I don't blame them... but their cost is outrageous. Four times that of a premiun gaming service and eight times any other element generator. Foolish. No added value.

Researched and fixed the "Operation Not Allowed" error on website.

Gaming package coded, completed and uploaded.

Rankings package coded, completed and uploaded.

Tournament package coded, completed and uploaded.

Index, For Writers, For Players, Forum, Celestials, Terrapyres, and Sourcebook packages coded, completed and uploaded.

Meeting with Launa through email about the parrell series she's heading (Leather Ladybird).

Exchange of several emails with Launa about optimizing the OHP website and using various online resources to do so.

Pause at 2:00 to go to the office in the dark and play the harp (and record it) for 45 minutes.

Realize half way through the song that the recording is ruined by the strange humming of the time clock.

Return home to transfer Maxwell to his bed and sit and talk with him until he falls asleep. He wants to talk about hamburgers. We do.

I organize by planner while he drifts off. Cris comes in silently and plays a little old-school hand-held video game (reselling for only $3 on eBay so it escaped being sold off). We don't speak. I can hear Brianne working at the table downstairs. She wears headphones but Nickleback creeps up the stairs a little bit. Launa perhaps is asleep? Or working quietly on her scripting. She is detrimined. I admire everyone's hard work.

Back downstairs I make a chicken broth cube and set up to work. I'll continue website work until 6 or 7 tonight... then turn in.

Where's my pack of gum...

Work Log: Wednesday

2009-04-16T05:30:00.000-07:00

My attempts to be witty or insightful tend to disappear after eighteen hours of tag-team Mama-CEO-Mama- Production-CEO role-playing. I gotta tell you, I sometimes wonder if I were a taller person if I'd have more of a reserve of energy hidden somewhere.

The day whizzed by with no regard to my carefully, Virgo-retentive schedule, as if some wicked little gome out of David's "The Twilight Cave" trilogy was whispering, "Arg, you really think there that a wee bit of paper will protect your progress through this most uncharted and perilous terrain?" *cue wicked laughter*

My day began with the admission that I cannot do Cris' taxes. There's a NOL issue and the program keeps prompting me about random self-employment tax (she's not self-employed -- she and I are actually different people) and so on and so forth. Finally I swallow my pride (hubris is a sin, after all) and call our accountant (yes, on the *15th*) and ask her, quietly, and without excuses if she can do Cris' taxes... on the day they're due... with me paying her at the end of May.

Oh my gosh... amazing how hard that was. Hey, God? I'm learning.

I fax over the taxes to Dawn. We have a very nice conversation an hour later about the sky-rocketing costs of health insurance (Cris doesn't have any... remember when she was hospitalized last year for a week? Yeah. If she made enough income to need a good deduction that would have covered it.) and the economic state of the union.

My day continues.

I set up Maxwell peer-teaching Faith their History. Faith retains 90% more when Maxwell is her teacher. They are so close in such a nice way. It reminds me of me and my sister. I miss her. She lives in Seattle and I barely get to see her. The ferry ride is $9 bucks or $15 depending on the time of year and as a community theatre actor and dog-walker by profession, Angela doesn't have an extra penny to her name to help out. Faith looks a lot like Angel (and was even born on her birthday), which prompts my family to joke that Angel is the only person on the planet powerful enough to be reincarnated without dying first (pretty funny coming from a family of Roman Catholics).

Math and creative writing with the kids continues under my happy (though tense) guidance.

I prep checks for Cris to deposit. I try not to scoff at a check for $7.10 from a vendor who owes us more than $900. They make us jump through flaming hoops to get paid. Unreal.

18 email messages.

Work on a client's website. The job was slotted for four days work. The paycheck will cover a half-dozen bills at OHP. I hate being "away" from OHP work. I want my focus there... but I have to do my part to pay our way. Gosh... it just kills me. The work will *not* be done in four days. The client has twelve pages of additional tweaks and change-orders that have come in since the schedule was set. I realize at 4 a.m. that my schedule will have to be redone.

Production -- trimming 40 books. Good work. I can lose myself in the darkness and comfort of the office. This company... I wonder if anyone will understand when I say it is like a partner, a lover to me. Beautiful, powerful, a beacon in my life and in my heart. After I am done trimming I just linger in the office. Music plays (yes, pretty loudly) on the stereo. The machines hum. The high ceiling reminds me that I could come play my harp here and the sound would bounce and resound so nicely. My gaze passes over the long lines of shelves filled with brilliant cover colors. The huge white boards are appropriately busy with text.

When I finally step outside under the low clouds, I take a moment to notice the absence of a visible moon. The frogs are singing in the woods. There is something, a chipmunk or squirrel perhaps, rustling in the trees. Growing up in the projects in Seattle I never thought a place such as this existed. I never knew quiet and trees and night as a friend was something alive in the world. I have come to see this place as outside time, outside reality almost... and more than anything, as woven forever with this company. The breath in my lungs seems tangible when I stand like this.

And I know why I keep doing this.

Work Log: Tuesday

2009-04-15T05:15:00.000-07:00

The day was, as I wrote to an author friend, the quintessential Spring day. The pale new sun slanted through the evergreens that towers around our little two-acre wood and though it brought no heat to speak of, it brought a *light*... almost divine. At lunch I walked the trails with the children and hurried them on ahead in search for stones to draw on to hide the tears that ran down my cheeks. I was alone for just a moment with the day -- the sounds of the birds and the squirrels and the children becoming a single melody cascading over the gentler whispers and murmurs of the boughs and needles in the high breeze. I suppose it's okay for me to write that Spring brought me to tears. I wonder sometimes though if CEO are supposed to self-edit a bit more.

Guess I should go back to school for that MBA ;)

The day was hectic but strong. The first part of the day, usually entirely focused on schooling the children, was peppered with phone calls from Cris, emails from Launa, and small questions from Brianne (who was working today). None of this was a problem! I want to feel like they can turn to me and that I am always available. We did still manage to get some great History done and Faith's creative writing, both of their letter-writing, and Maxwell's lesson in Mathematical Arrangements & Combinations... which he was startling good at.

OHP work during the day included (*none* of these items were on my to-do list):

Worked my spatial relations fitting a little roller on a great big printer. Made me think of working on motorcycles with my mom when I was a teen.

Choose and paid for twenty books for our possible new patron. Wrote her a note on the stationary that my Grandma gave me for Easter. Spent a moment wondering if thirty-something male CEOs have special stationary from their Grandmas and whether or not they use it.

Wrote a personal, very gushy but sincere note to our printer supplier asking for her help to track down two machines we need (though, I believe we'll only be able to purchase one of them at this point in the campaign). I know she is very busy... and I know she had a huge fight with her husband when he spent four hours here working on our machine (*cough* chatting me up *cough*) and only charged us one hour. So... with the personal, gentle note, I also attached a mint condition Beanie Baby that is worth nothing today but tons and tons long ago. Also, I knew she loves Beanie Baby bears because I listen when people talk to me.

Dealt with a font issue with our out-source (please see earlier blog entries about how these people drive me insane). They needed me to reorganize and reupload all 400 of our master fonts. They then needed me to upload four of these a third time. I made two back ups. And chewed a lot of gum (I've mentioned I don't smoke or drink, right?).

I pulled out or refiled sensitive paperwork that I keep downstairs in a deeply hidden file cabinet built in the wall of a spare room... oops. Not so hidden any more.

Feed and cared for hermit crabs. Watered (don't ask) and feed fish. Water plants. Dusted my lemon tree that I grew from a lemon seed.

Created five new pages for a web client (for those of you who remember that I build websites and provide tech support for websites on the side) who is in such hard times it takes me three hours to bill her... I kept deleting the bill on purpose.

Filled out the annual incorporation paperwork licensing thingie. Boring after doing the riveting taxes yesterday.

Fixed the 2-up version of the "Becoming a Nanny" cover. Resaved, refiled, reuploaded... etc. It appears that text moves into overflow upon rotation for 2-up... but only for certain fonts. Like Rockwell.

Wrote two three authors in regard to the campaign. A breather in my day. A moment to be myself. I wish they all lived here on campus. Seriously.

Talked to Launa about how I need a secure, hidden section added to the Mardi Gras 3000 forum so that I can keep the designer up to date on sensitive matters without revealing everything to everyone. Realize that this will be another daily task. Sit for a moment on the porch in the fading light and remember to be thankful that I am alive.

Dinner arrives --which Cris handles. Pancakes and sausages. Yum. Maxwell also eats chicken nuggets and a corndog. He's so thin. I worry. I eat sausages. I remember that my PCC told me to track how many calories I'm eating. I laugh into my napkin. I can't remember the last time I broke 800 calories in a day. No appetite is normal for this job, I think. I make the family wheat free brownies (our last package).

My actual work day begins:

I layout the "Reciprocity" characters onto labels. I remember that one character, Cielos, appears in four guises and another, Maria, appears in three. Luckily Launa personally owns one of the elements I need. Brianne checks my work. Thank goodness because I'm not used to building characters.

Ever wonder what all this character building is about? (Brianne's blog is full of it as well.) These are our first comicbooks. The images are pre-rendered in a 3D virtual platform and then set up into illustrations. The comics we've working on right now (several different ones) are all for the Mardi Gras 3000 brand.

Every wonder why we have all this time devoted to Mardi Gras 3000? Because it is our most commerical brand and the one with the largest potential based on pre-orders (which are in the five-figure range). The creator of the brand (Eliza Jean, who became our Art Director) has waived all her royalties forever and opened the universe up to all authors to write and publish in. So... all staff take some time to forward this brand every day. But the work must be limited in order to move *everyone* forward. We don't just chase the dollar here. We never will.

The rest of the night... and into the wee hours... focused on Cris' personal taxes. My work time is devoted to this because we simply cannot cover the $175 to have the accountant do them. I have never done personal taxes before in my life. Funny isn't it? The 1120 seems so simple in comparison.

Sleep is a welcome break.

Work Log: Monday

2009-04-14T06:30:00.000-07:00

The day seemed stacked against me until the very end. The power cord on my laptop died (proving I am too rough with my machines). So I called around. $175. $99. $29.95! Hooray! I bundled up Faith (who gets cabin fever) and grabbed Brianne (who can entertain Faith if I need to concentrate on something else) and bombed to the store... only to be told that the cord was a rare one and though they had the voltage they didn't have the amps (or some such explanation) which prompted me to clench my jaw and retort, "When you coworker is done selling that hapless young couple a $900 cell phone contract, feel free to smack him for me. The automatic answer to a customer on the phone is not always yes. I called first. I read him all my specs. He blew me off with a yes ma'am."

And out I storm. Poor Faith and Brianne... they're probably used to my righteous annoyance by now, but still. I suppose this is why I'm still just a "practicing Christian."

Did I mention I despise cell phones? I simply do.

The rest of the day unspooled with schooling the children. I handled creative writing and math with Maxwell. We had an excellent conversation about the importance of strong charting skills. He is progressing quickly. He was two years ahead in math before we broke away from the ridiculous public education system (a virtual academy backed by Washington State) and I wonder where in the universe I'm going to find the money to pay for his new books in two months when we finish off what we have now. Does the library carry these? Hm. That might just work.

My work day consisted of an enormous amount of coffee, a Coke Zero or two and perhaps a NoDoz. Gracious but I'm tired. I keep thinking about the prescription stuff that I read about years ago in Reader's Digest... can't remember the name right now... that keeps people awake and functioning when they have jobs like lawyers or nurses. Too bad I don't believe in medication unless it saves someone's life. Which is stupid, I suppose, since caffeine is certainly as mood-altering as any general pain killers or stimulants.

Day consisted of:

Realizing that an author had lifted my personal ideas and literally stolen one of my web clients... who left without paying the second half of her bill. All this because my completion date for her was three days later than the author's. I call our lawyer (who is a dear friend and will not charge me for a phone call) and no, I do not have grounds for "firing" the author because I just want to kill them. That's just not legal. Of course, I don't mean it... I just wanted to be able to blow off some steam to someone sworn to confidentiality (and *not* to a staff member -- I *never* do that with my staff).

Emails were 42. Twelve required no response. Three were personal and waited until break.

Transferring files occurred. This all-important though tedious archiving. I'll thank myself later though when I'm looking for files.

Assigned and reassigned work. Contemplated allowing Launa to explore a side-line tech issue that she brought to my attention (I said yes). Worked out a "social engagement" with an author (he wants to go dancing and I have been known to do that).

Time for the meat of my day: The company taxes. It was surreal. I have been doing the federal taxes for this company since I was sixteen years old. I had been interning for two weeks when my boss, an incredible, dictator who taught me everything I know, dropped a massive file box of receipts and invoices on my table, along with the blank 1120 forms and said, "Crunch the numbers, Math Brain. Figure it out." And I did... and I loved it. One year only (between 1989 and now) I hired an outside firm to handle these delicate, complicated forms. They so horribly bungled the whole thing (and I was too pregnant to notice) that we wound up paying penalties of more than $1800. Unacceptable.

Hours pass...

I create a thing of beauty (joy forever) Excel worksheet so that if I die in the next eleven months that someone else can actually do the taxes next year. I shoot screen captures and adjust to the fact that the Schedule K is different this year (though, ultimately, it's easier for us and a better design to understand and use). I drop the finished file on a dime-a-dozen mini Flash drive (the 32 MB kind they give away at malls) and leave a note for Cris to please print two copies (we haven't had toner in the house printer in more than a year... which at $39 a cartridge is understandable. I think I'd rather have cheese, milk and eggs).

It is 4 a.m.

I compose letters to our two new contributors to the in-house printing campaign. Authors are truly understanding how this will revolutionize what we're doing here. Cutting the production time in more than half and giving us amazing quality and consistency control. The out-source printers we're using are both driving me insane right now. This week they're complaining about custom fonts. Because, you know, why would a publisher want to use anything other than Georgia and Ariel? Please.

Next, I go and edit the ChipIn widget to reflect the remaining campaign funds needed. I crunch the numbers and realize that if every supporter donated $10 we'd make our goal. That's humbling.

Last, as dawn creep nearer, I update the Excel worksheet that I track the campaign on. This has names, donations, gross after PayPal fees, and a series of dates (contact, donation, response). Perhaps I should have Maxwell make a chart for the next issue of The News?

Review foreclosure paperwork for the cabin at sometime after 5:30 a.m. sitting up in Maxwell's top bunk. He didn't a repeat asthma attack but he woke several times. I think we're going to need to shift him back to exclusively cotton pjs. He seemed to be out-growing this need but his itchiness is just torturous.

I finally fall asleep and dream of free-running. I wore a nice pair of sneakers.

Campaign Update

2009-04-14T01:09:00.000-07:00

I started my work shift late in the evening after realizing that the power cord on my laptop was fried. No one in our small town had a replacement so eBay it will have to be. Amazing how grocery money literally gets nickled and dimed away. I try to roll with it. Brianne reminds me that pizza was on sale for $1.19 (unreal but totally true) and so at least a simple meal awaits.

Once again I adjusted the goal we need for the campaign after two incredible supporters donated $50 and $500 via the post. I felt so... blessed. I know that if everyone who read about the campaign in The News donated $10 we'd have our goal. These two individuals become like a crowd of contributors! I want this to work. I want us to have control of our books like never before. We're so close. I believe we can do this.

Work Log

2009-04-10T23:13:00.000-07:00

Pardon the lack of poetics in my work log lately; exhaustion is a constant companion these last two days. The smallest things make me scowl -- the way an author words criticism toward an artist; the way the neighbor dogs stalk our mailbox, etc. Italian women with no sense of humor really isn't fun for anyone.

As I watched my eight-seven year old grandma play with her great grandkids today, I realized where I get my energy. Retirement? What's retirement? Poor Maxwell and Faith. If they ever get to run the company it'll be when I'm the spirit haunting the production room... late at night... outside the big side windows in the depths of the beautiful woods. My kind of retirement.

Work started later to accommodate my grandmother's visit. This is fine. It gave me time to make wheat-free, date, raisin, cranberry, nutmeg, cinnamon bread (Elsie brought all the ingredients... and a blonde wood wall clock -- we love clocks -- ... with her). It also let me make a sweet and sour sauce to broiler the left over chicken pieces in. Everything has to stretch. Amazing what can be done with ketchup, honey, soy sauce and mirin.

Work day:

28 emails
Finalizing one book
Laying out new children's book (due to artwork size, these projects take almost five hours)
Production (trimming 80 books)
Finishing reviewing project tracker websites
Finalize work agreements
Create project tracking website (because none of the services pleased me)
Chart out MG3K assignments for me and Brianne
Playtesting

Sleep, at last, at 5:00

Work Log

2009-04-09T23:29:00.000-07:00

It seems that even during my school time with the kids, lately, that email and calls are sneaking in. There's just so very much going on and often tasks are time sensitive. I cannot stand making someone wait on me and with Cris and Launa's shift during the day and mine and Brianne's work shift primarily at night, I am always acutely aware that Launa and Cris should not have to wait until the next morning for a yes or no answer, or help with a problem or query.

The day was packed solid from noon to 6 a.m. I don't remember stopping for anything but dinner so Cris and Brianne must have seen to the children needs. Dinner was skinless, boneless, chicken breasts baked and then flash fried with spices. It was the first time I'd done anything like that but all I could think about was how good it was going to be to have a dinner including meat.

The work day, evening and night involved:

34 total work emails (18 personal messages answered while files transferred or saved)
Mardi Gras 3000 scheduling (my own assignments)
Mardi Gras 3000 meeting with Cris (her assignments)
Mardi Gras 3000 meeting with Brianne (primarily for "Under the Influence" but also for her schedule)
Cover creation for two books (implementing Eliza Jean's designs)
Manuscript prep for two books
IT maintenance for a web client and OHP
Manuscript review
Transfer of files
Reviewing four project management software packages
Determining sets for "Blood Trade" comic shoot
Post at MG3K forum
Play test MG3K (basic play session)

Took a fifteen minute break to watch dawn bring color back to the propoerty, then took care of Max when he had an asthma attack. Afterwards, couldn't sleep. It was 6. Decided to work out a tighter schedule for my assignments in order to shift more time toward the writing of the novella I've been assigned.

Work Log

2009-04-08T15:00:00.000-07:00

The day was so stunningly straight-forward I was utterly exhausted by 11:00 p.m. and crashed (literally sitting at the dining room table) for two hours. I slept so deeply -- right in the middle of everything -- that I dreamt. It was a vivid dream that I accidentally swallowed one of the kids' small rubber balls and it became lodged in my throat. Unable to speak or hear (strangely) and too scared to write an understandable note for help, I simply stood in the middle of the room with the family all around. I woke feeling cold and startled. Perhaps dreaming about being helpless is common when so much rests on one's shoulders?

Cris' computer crashed. It is completely useless. She is tackling the issues herself because the great shop we work with is backed up and the now $95 charge is far too steep.

I wonder if we should start offering certain prime rabbits for sale as show animals. They are so beautiful and we have two breeds making babies that normally don't create off-spring. English Spots with Lionhead manes and small size? Beautiful. Craigslist perhaps.

I receive an email asking about ordering 40 copies of my original harp music. I am mortified. Ten minutes later an email about a gallery owner who would like to see my paintings. I am further mortified. How can I possibly take the time out of my life to create professional looking CDs and paint more when I have authors waiting for their proofs? "I'm sorry, Thomas, I need to spend the week playing my harp and painting. Gee, sorry." I just can't do it. Yes, I know it would mean funds coming in... but somehow it seems a betrayal. I leave the two messages unanswered.

Two total hours of email. 32 messages in all. CC'ed to our new automatic back up storage. Mostly right now, I find myself being our IT professional... though it is Cris who is working on the crashed laptop. Incredible how many skills we all must have to survive. I do so hate having to trust subcontractors. Do I get that from my mother who was a general contractor for so many years and watched subs run projects into the ground? I try very hard to pick the right firms for us to work with... but in the end, the work is always better when we do it ourselves.

Two hours transferring files from incoming CDs and packages onto the independent storage (the MyBook 500GB drive). This is actually hugely important because then I assure that everything layout needs is exactly where it should be.

Four hours prepping three manuscripts and finalizing two manuscripts (and adding them to my hardcopy Masters list). Also fixing an overflow error on one cover (which involves fixing the error, 2-uping the cover again, saving both as PDFs, taking down the PDF from online, transferring the zipped, protected folder from storage, removing the protection, deleting the two files with errors, moving in the fixed files, reapplying the protection, copying the whole folder back to storage and then uploading it back online, then transferring the master files to the storage, deleting the old ones), and finishing my work on the tweaking of "Gamer Grrl in Small Doses" from yesterday, is always included in this time.

One hour reviewing artwork roughs for five books (interiors and covers).

Half an hour meeting with Brianne about "Under the Influence."

Half an hour meeting with Cris about production needs.

An hour spent completely revising "Reciprocity" and deciding to take it all the way back to the original approach. Dread. This is why I am better as a publisher than as a writer.

An hour and a half cleaning the Linux (sp?) machine so that we don't experience another computer crash.

I fell asleep at 5 or 6 wondering how in the world I can manage to write the story I've been assigned for MG3K project (plus the four others that other authors *didn't* turn in) in third person when I handle three blogs a day that are all written in first person. I may lose my mind. I dreamt that Bandit (the cat) ate Faith's favorite Polly Pocket.

Work Log

2009-04-08T05:10:00.000-07:00

Started the day teaching the children. Brianne is in the office today with a massive amount of production so I suggested that I handle the kids alone rather than have her work late into the evening... which is ironic and kind of double-handed of me since really, by doing this, it just means she'll be free to work more for OHP -- production in the office during the day and then image editing, writing and designing throughout the rest of the day and evening. The missionaries who came calling said, "Idle hands are the Devil's playthings." I don't believe in a devil (and I have no idea whether or not they do or if they were just young enough to coin a phrase without meaning it, so I smiled, nodded and said, "Busy hands are Christ's hands.")

Some day my children will realize how few lessons they'd be doing if they were enrolled in public school and they'll hate me for sure. But I think covering an entire unit of math makes perfect sense. *shrug* I have said several times, no child of mine will hate math. I want Maxwell and Faith to see God in the numbers and wonderment in equations. So far, so good.

Likewise, some day Launa, Cris and Brianne will realize that if they don't open my emails, their work loads will be much less. I better make a rule that all emails from me need to be read and answered within twelve hours before one of those smart ladies figures out my sneaky bury-new-work-in-emails-about-existing-work approach.

Today's morning and afternoon were compromised of schooling the kiddos and cleaning the kitchen and dining room. I took a fifteen minute break to play Quake (old-school video game) with Faith. We laughed very hard about the blocky 32-bit monsters and paused often to strategize and so six-year-old Faith could give me lots of pointers, such as:

"A gun is actually a weapon to use from afar, Mama."

"Those are zombies, Mama. Just run away."

"Rocket launchers aren't for poking the enemy, Mama. Try shooting."

Lunch came and went quickly. Focused on math with both kids for more than an hour. Tackled the ANT INFESTATION for an hour in the attic (85 degrees) with a very brave little Faith. I would pick up boxes, sort for things to sell, and then Faith would see one... or ten... or twenty-eight inch-long ants and shove them in her primary-colored portable bug cage. I would be lying if I said I wasn't literally shaking by the time I the hour was over.

Work began promptly at 6 p.m.

Today's work (not in this order):

Write to Mike
Write to Gregg and Elaine
Review one work agreement
Write two work agreements
Sort layout
Add reviews to back cover of one book
Email (24)
Update Master list hardcopy
Unpack and upload artwork package
Review request manuscripts
Download and transfer files
Meeting with Cris about royalty waivers
Realize that book that needs reviews on back cover has a very full back cover.
Add two pages to the interior of the book for reviews...
...realize that we don't have reviews for an entire inside page...
...go gather reviews from reviewers online...
...realize that adding two pages threw off the table of contents...
...correct all the toc entries...
...take this opportunity to swap out the author photo with a better one...
...and tweak the "blank" pages where only graphic exist.
Refinalize the book, transfer to back up storage, and upload.
Notice an error at our website.
Investigate error in sent email and report on it.
Check that error was fixed within thirty minutes (it was).

Sign off at 5:00 a.m. Write for an hour on "Reciprocity."

Sleep (try not to dream of ants).

Reprinted from E.J. Angel

2009-04-08T03:50:00.000-07:00

...our incredible author. One of many of our incredible authors.

"Gamer Grrl in Small Doses" (http://ejangel.blogspot.com)

Cecil Adams over at www.straightdope.com answers questions, debunks myths and otherwise does witty, smarty stuff for people all over the world. He is research god of the universe and has a way of sharing information that is accessible and intelligent at once.

I had always thought it an urban myth that the Chinese word for “crisis” is made up of two characters signifying “opportunity” and “danger,” thus forming a kind of zen metaphor for life and business. And it is bunk, on the surface, seriously over simplified, but Cecil makes a bright and shiny argument for the connection between the three words that would entertain any linguist and intrigued this gamer grrl.

“We have to catch up!” one friend said to another.
“We’re *always* catching up!” snapped the response.

We’re always in crisis.

Well... yes. The Big Boys have been doing this – publishing books and games – since before our grandparents came to this country. They have massive revolving lines of credit and subsidiary sales that fuel small countries, let alone allow them to publish flops for four or five years without much more than a changing of the scapegoated guard.

As independent voices with independent presses – like Woolfe and Whitman – we should pray for a constant state of crisis. Because only in crisis are we driven to our best. Only in crisis do we find the chance for brilliant opportunities.

If it were easy... everyone would be doing it.

If it were easy... everyone would succeed.

I choose to do this, not because it is easy, but rather, specifically, because it is hard ;) I choose to do this because the struggle is sharp and painful and real and alive. I choose to do this for the same reason that women wake up in poverty and labor in factories and embrace their children.

If we waited until it were easy... if we waited until we were ready... no one important would ever be born and nothing worth doing would ever be done.

Our Second, Third and Fourth Contributors

2009-04-08T03:49:00.000-07:00

Reprinted from my mini blog that tracks the in-house printing campaign at http://ohp.chipin.com/ohp

I have been advised by trusted friends not to name our contributors. Funny... because I feel like shouting from rooftops. These are people I respect -- not just as businessmen or businesswomen, but as authors and, often, as people, too. It reminds me how many of us have reached out to each other and shared personal events, stories about our children, adventures over vacation, or just a kind word or card for no reason other than to offer support. Yes, I know that this campaign will benefit every author (and us too) but it won't be a magic pill -- it will simply give us the step up we need to survive. So often I see that people won't believe in something or support a cause unless it claims to be the grand silver bullet. But our contributors so far know that if we're good for anything around here, we're good for hard work. (Our third and fourth contributors donated $50 by check via the post and so I have lowered our total goal to reflect their gift.)

Work Log

2009-04-07T05:10:00.000-07:00

I knew today would be a challenge but I was prepared for it. The article appeared several years ago in Small Business Magazine -- how to involve your children's education with the family business. The idea, of course, is to integrate your children early on, to give them a sense of responsibility and ownership. To show them that, in running a publishing house, there is...

Disappointment at failure
Joy in accomplishment
Pushing beyond physical limits
Innovative thinking in the face of crisis
Algebra (and lots of it)
Tedium
Frantic hours
Physical exhaustion
Emotional exhaustion
Humor
Companionship
Loneliness

...in short, there is everything. And at OHP, there are apparently also ants.

I am a child of the '70s (meaning I was born in '73) though everyone who knows me calls me a '90s grrl but that's a totally different story. Being born when I was, I grew up with the urban legend that if you find the *complete* drawing of an Indian (meaning the character, in head dress) shooting a star with a bow and arrow on the wrapper of a Tootsie Roll Tootsie Pop, than you can trade it into a store for a free lollie. Turns out, the Tootsie Roll company never made or stood by this offer -- it was just an urban legend that many stores honored. But either way, I feel a child-like joy when I find one of these lucky wrappers... and the staff know it... and I keep them supplied with lollies (which are cheap) and so... I have a small collection of wrappers.

Do you all see where this is going? The ants. The lollie wrappers. The ants... on the lollie wrappers. My sweet, sensitive, ant-phobic son screaming. My brusque, tough, fair-minded Senior Editor grabbing the bin full of wrappers (and a colony of ants) and flinging them into the yard.

This week I had to make the decision to buy meat and cheese for my family or pay the phone bill on time. But for a moment I forgot all of that while I stared sheepishly at Cris, my big blue eyes blinking in apology. She only sighed. And shook off the wrappers. They now all live in a great big Ziplock storage bag.

Thank you, Cris.

Now, as I was saying: I knew work today would be challenging.

It began when Brianne and I stayed up until 4:45 the previous night play-testing Mardi Gras 3000. Sound like riveting fun? No. Conversation (between popping open cans of Coke) included:

"That was too easy."
"Yep. Cut it."
"That looks like crud."
"Yeah... the out-source didn't care."
"See. That did work."
"Uh-huh. Whatever."
"Write it down, Jennifer."
"You write it down, Brianne."

There was some sleep and then the work *day* began. Today we took the kids to work. It worked beautifully. They obviously know the importance of what we do -- and it sure isn't because the company does anything for them... nothing that a little person might recognize. Explaining everything to the children -- from stock reserves to out-source errors, from machine uses to machine dangers -- was rewarding and Maxwell, in particular was riveted. His confidence glowed on his face. But he also did real work... and he knew it. He created the alphabetized labels I've been wanting to get to for three months and applied them perfectly. Now, sorting stock no longer involves searching for the author's last name on every stack of books.

After this, the rest of the work day and into the evening involved gathering my materials for the week, as well as three packages with new artwork and manuscripts, some tax materials, licensing materials, and the new employment contracts.

A short break to watch a cake show with the kids while Cris and Brianne braid their hair. Dinner and 89 cent cinnamon rolls. A quiet prayer to say thank you.

Reading fourteen email messages (though not answering them).

More play-testing from 1:00 a.m. to 5:00 a.m.

Sleep.

Begin again *grin*

Work Log

2009-04-05T21:57:00.000-07:00

I always work on the Sabbath. However, my work stays exclusively on my impassioned path. This entails, primarily, three elements: teaching my children, refocusing the company schedule for for the coming week, and Mardi Gras 3000.

There are many authors we work with who write powerful, innovative work. There are others who write fun and exciting books. I am proud and honored to work with both kinds. Eliza Jean Angel's brand (Mardi Gras 3000) is a bit of both but it is partnered with a deep, transformative mythology that I have personally seen change lives. Wrapped in black leather and pop culture cool, EJ has created a universe that illustrates the truth of personal revelation and the intimate connection we can each have to Christ (or any higher power). She strips away politics and any of man's own denominations, and offers up a fictional playground run on the richest of faith. Plus, her universe is an open universe -- all writers are welcome to come and explore and publish within its (almost limitless) bounds.

Perhaps this is why I am so content at my job even I wait for eBay buyers to pay for my old first edition books and collectible figures so I can pay for groceries this week. My work does not pay in cash. But it gives me the faith I need to love my life.

Today I will spend five hours reconfiguring the collectible card game that began as the heart of the MG3K brand but may possibly be shifting to a supporting sideline next to the fiction. The decisions ultimately will be mine but I will turn to the people (and the hearts) I trust to make this brand what all of us need.

http://ejangel.blogspot.com (The Sunday Blog)
http://www.MardiGras3000.com (The brand site, still transforming)

Work Log

2009-04-04T14:46:00.000-07:00

I can't honestly remember the last time I had a Saturday off but it doesn't really wear on me. I truly love everything I do -- even the stuff that drives me nuts. Saturday is a balancing act of household chores and work but the day starts about the same -- start school at 12:00, lunch at 2:30, work, dinner, work, bedtime for the kiddos, more work.

But sometimes you also have to be ready for contingencies. Like today, two young missionaries from the Mormon church (Latter Day Saints) stopped by. As a pro-Christian company, I knew they would be met with kindness, but because we have a Mormon staff member right now, I wanted to show them some addition attention. In all, I spent an hour talking to these two twenty-one year olds, far from home, partnered with a stranger, and living surrounded by all new faces.

After "breaking the ice" and encouraging them to talk about themselves (and gently explaining that I wasn't a candidate for conversion), I gave them a tour of the office and exactly what we do where and how and why. Because it was obvious they were goal oriented and certain results from their visit would be considered successful, I convinced Cris and Brianne to go for a tour of their church on Friday. The girls seemed very happy as they left.

Work today involved email, finishing repairs on Maxwell's laptop, the hour-long author meeting (I do adore meeting with authors who are hard-workers), and three hours organizing the notes from the meeting and taking them the next four or five steps -- launching and marketing all. Additionally, I took a thirty minute meeting with Brianne for her take on the launch notes. She had some strong insights -- I *never* want to hear, "Well, whatever you think, Jennifer."

Though... there's a fine line between someone having their own opinion and driving me nuts LOL! Wow... I really am hard to work with.

Work Log

2009-04-04T05:20:00.000-07:00

It was a strange day but a good one. Cris and Maxwell are gone every Friday for Maxwell's medical needs and so school lessons are only the essentials just like on Saturday and Sunday (his fiction blog, Faith's creative writing, and their history). Brianne and I got these taken care of before breakfast.

Email once again stole a few hours of my time as did submission review. It is always difficult when I really respect and actually personally like and admire an author to say no a project because it simply does not fit what OHP is. I had to consider one book very closely and, actually, in the end, Brianne helped me see the book in a different light -- an angle that OHP can market and move on. The author received a "yes."

I then took an hour to gather materials for Cris and draft a response to a repeating question she receives. I consider this part of my job. I've been doing this just shy of twenty years now and I know I can help save time in her already packed schedule.

After this busy work, I went over to the office (because of the children and my late-night shift, I tend to work out of the house) to tackle the book room. For those of you who haven't visited, the office is a gorgeous space with fifteen foot ceilings. We converted it from an boat house ten years ago when Cris received a small inheritance from her grandmother. Actually, the trusty Toyota and the office were her grandmother's gifts and we certainly still thank you every day.

My tasks in the office included trimming books and 2-upped covers on the hydraulic cutter. 480 covers in total (very fast) and about 50 books. Being in the office, however, means I micromanage everything I see and try to empower all staff -- whether it's Launa on the phone with authors, or Brianne frustrated with the multi-person tracking system for cover stock -- to:

1. Never pass the buck.
2. Use common sense.
3. Think on your feet.
4. Work harder.
5. Do not repeat mistakes.
6. Take responsibility for *more* than just your own work.

I always smile when Brianne says to me, "I realized I was trying to impress you." Because that works for me. I am very easily pleased with staff -- fourteen hour days, incredible speed and glowing accuracy... is that too much to ask? If it is, they can get a job at Burger King. Or Starbucks. Or the DMV.

This may seem harsh since no one is paid right now. But then I could just say: Think of all our authors (and family and friends) who are losing or have lost their homes. Here, living on campus, we have a washer, a dryer, Internet, phone, heat, electricity, food (no, not tons, but whatever), garbage pick up... we have what we need to live and do our jobs.

So... again... if someone doesn't like what I demand as *minimum* attributes to work for me, they can find another job. Because the simple truth is, we either all give it everything we have, or we will not succeed. And since I refuse to fail, since I see this work as impassioned work, nothing less than my life's work, if I see anyone functioning below my standards, I can be, understandably, brutal.

Hm. Enough of that side-tracking.

After trimming was done, I tackled the book storage room. This long, skinny room houses our stock. This room is about to get very busy when we bring production back in-house. Right now it is busy housing both supplies and, basically, returned book stock. Main book stock is kept in the main room -- a wash of beautiful colors and designs. The stock found here is primarily what I call "Sigh Stock." As in, when I sigh and give in to an author who simply insists that if 1500 copies of their book are at Ingram, than bookstores will just know magically to order them. And 1490 come right back to us. We pay to ship to Ingram. We pay to ship back from Ingram. All Ingram does is scuff our stock.

Marketing. Marketing is key and in all my years in this business I have never seen marketing plans as comprehensive and innovative as those created by Ryan DiMassa and now, finally after her training, by our staff here. Here's the catch though: You have to do the work.

I remember reading an article in "Writers Digest" when I was in high school (that's some time ago now) that said: "Writers are no longer writers. They haven't been in years. The Literary Nobility that can just sit back and write are compromised of less than ten authors... and you are not one of them if you are reading this article. You must tour. You must call. You must write charming letters. You must speak at schools and colleges. You must dance and jump through hoops. You must be the monkey and the music man. Are you sure you want to be a writer?"

I answered yes.

But since I'd written my first novels at ten, and published the first five at sixteen, by the time I read that article, when I was seventeen or eighteen, I already knew that I wasn't a writer who would be able to dance and sing and pay my bills. I am not a main stream writer. I like to write genre fiction. Poetry. Plays. I knew I was passionate about books, though... and so when one of my books became a national bestseller, I knew it was a fluke (actually, it was just excellent -- though brutal -- marketing) and I veered into publishing.

I will never write a novel like Rebecca's "Manual for Normal" or Gregg's "The Broccoli Eaters." But someday I will make sure that every person in America knows who these writers are and how powerful their work is.

I guess I just can't stand quitters.

Hm. I side-tracked again. Back to my work log:

I tackled the book storage room and Brianne soon joined me, and then Cris returned at 6:00 and she joined us as well. I scaled the book shelves to the ceiling and rearrange supplies and 50-pound boxes of books. We shifted and culled and I made the decision to take 800 books to Goodwill and the local "Get 'Em Reading" charity. We have enough stock of these titles; it's time to give a little back. We took the room 1/3 of the way to completion. I will return here next week.

The office is in the middle of the woods. The office occasionally has mice. The office has spiders the size of marshmallow Peeps. When I returned home, I showered. And possibly burned my clothes.

After clean up and dinner and adults and children, I took one hour to socialize with staff which transitioned into a conversation about the use of story, plot-points and pacing in tv. It must really drive everyone nuts that I took that UCLA film course. I really do talk like I know everything. As Cris likes to tease me when I counsel an author *not* to hire a certain publicist and they do it, and it goes horribly, "Too bad you're always right, Jenn." Yes. As the song says, "Living with you, baby, was sometimes hard..."

I make coffee and return to work. It is now 10:30 or 11:00. I scan the original artwork for the fourth edition of "The Magical Child."

I realize the Mardi Gras 3000 forum is down. It keeps doing this. Randomly. Why? This isn't acceptable. I feel blessed that we have not launched yet and can build some stability now before we have action on the forum. Perhaps Launa will need to spend time a large library reading up on php3. Or perhaps join a more professional-minded forum that the whining noob sites that draw so much of Google's attention.

An author photo of one of our darker-skinned authors is printing as though she is white because of the lighting. This is offensive. I have Brianne tackle the problem. I also give her the twenty "The Magical Child" artwork frames to apply washes of color too. Just when she thought she was caught up...

I forward Brianne the images for new Mardi Gras 3000 covers. (Repeat, "Just when she thought she was done...")

I have a snack of cheese and wasabi.

Email. Ten messages. Not the message I was waiting for.

Pull and send files to and from Launa for layout.

Go into deep archive to pull text and images for a new book on the website.

Prep for a meeting with an author tomorrow morning via the Internet. Hard news from her content providers. Good news from OHP. She'll roll with all of it. She's strong and focused.

At 1:30 a.m. I turn off my machine and tackle Maxwell's machine. Oh gosh. We simply do not have the money to put these machines all in the shop. $85 a machine for scrub and check up. We don't have the money for one. I fixed mine. I can fix his. I just have to go slow and not forgot anything.

Sleep at 5:00. Machine still not fixed. But I have more ideas.

Work Log

2009-04-03T04:16:00.000-07:00

12:00 Meeting with Cris about Mission Budget
12:30 Meeting with Brianne about name credits
12:45 Update blog at Mission page (http://ohp.chipin.com/ohp)
1:00 Work email (10). Investigate launasorensen.com tech problems. More work email (4).
1:45 Find first edition copy of The Magical Child.
2:00 Blog with Max
3:30 Lunch
3:45 School with Max
4:45 Update tour package on website
5:00 Review legal paperwork
5:15 Transfer new art files.
6:00 Layout work: Post-production corrections to Buck, Blue and Sunshine Box.
6:30 Layout work. New.
7:30 Dinner break
7:50 Email
8:00 Layout. New.
9:45 Corrections to childrens book.
10:50 Recreation of watercolor artwork for The Magical Child.
4:15 Sleep

From the Mission Blog

2009-04-02T13:10:00.000-07:00

From my blog at http://ohp.chipin.com/ohp:

1.
Bringing Production (Back) In-House

We embark upon this journey to take control of our own destiny... okay, that's too melodramatic. How about just the facts: By bringing production back in-house we will once again control our quality assurance, decrease our turnaround time for order fulfillment, and be able to run larger print orders on recycled materials (instead of relying on ultra-short runs from out-source printers). Profit margin will return to the standards we saw three years ago which will allow us to issue a print catalog and engage in more aggressive marketing. Sales will not need to increase if we make these changes and so success of the project is not dependent upon an economic up-turn. For more details, including your return on any donation, please see the April issue of The News.

2.

The Details

$5000 binder
(upgrade to a faster Borg perfectbinder as serviceable by Willie Hill, the tech we have worked with for nine years and can trust)

$1200 printer
(add an additional commercial unit of the same model for higher output)

$1800 stock supplies
(three-month consumable parts for all four printers so that we have a running start on the 90-day payment schedule we must adhere to with our distributors)

$250 cutter blades
(upgrade and replacement blades for cleaner cuts on all trimming)

$750 film laminator
(upgrade current machine for smoother cover laminate)

3.

Our First Contributor

What an incredible surprise and honor to learn that our first donation arrived before I even expected people to see the article about the plan. I had assumed that we would see no response until after April 6, the first Monday of the month. After writing an albeit emotional but very honest thank you letter, the task falls to me to decide what to do at this point. The options are to hold the funds in the savings account and make our first purchase when we can secure the binder (at $5000) or move on the laminator and cutter blades now. Just another small donation and we also shift directly into adding another printer. This is a good decision to "have on my shoulders." I certainly welcome it. I believe in my heart we can do this.

Work Log

2009-04-02T04:03:00.000-07:00

12:00 Yesterday I wrote to our first contributor to the in-house plan. RF donated more than a thousand dollars toward the $9K goal. This morning I created an Excel file to track the contributors, whether or not they desire a return on the donation, when I responded to them, and how much (after PayPal's processing fees) was transferred into the savings account to hold until the goal is met.

12:30 Started school with Max and Faith.

2:00 Took a phone meeting with Cris.

2:30 Read staff blogs, handled my part of the school blog, and did the last bit of restorative maintenance on my laptop.

3:00 Break for lunch

3:30 Email.

4:00 Production in office: Trimming 80 books.

5:30 Email

5:45 Mardi Gras 3000 comic meeting with Brianne.

6:00 Layout (organize 14 current titles; complete 8 books, finalized, uploaded, filed, email notifications).

8:00 Eat dinner.

8:20 Back to layout.

2:00 Writing "Mardi Gras 3000: Reciprocity"

4:00 Sleep

Work Log

2009-04-01T04:10:00.000-07:00

11:45 Review staff blogs.
12:00 Meeting with Cris.
12:45 School with Max and Faith
(http://orchardhouseschool.blogspot.com)
2:00 Check email. Answer eight.
2:10 School with kids
3:00 Make lunch
4:00 Answer all email (17 messages) and write Check Point message to Mardi Gras 3000 authors.
4:20 Make change to BluebootsFarm.com website for client and bill client
5:00 Errands
(get paper supplies, pick up meds, fill gas tank 1/2 way in case of emergency)
6:00 Check on production in office. Looks really good.
6:30 Email again. Stunning that this isn't a main focus of my job... and yet.
6:45 Help with dinner and clean up.
7:30 Realize my computer is completely down. Speak with Gille. Try several options. Gain enough function to make a fresh backup. Attempt to reinstall updates and browser. Scrub machine. Reinstall essentials.
10:30 Anger management break LOL!
10:40 Production list prioritizing. Create list of what materials layout needs next. Send to Cris.
2:00 Writing work on "Mardi Gras 3000: Reciprocity"
4:00 Sleep

Work Log

2009-03-31T03:00:00.000-07:00

As the Chief Executive Officer at an independent publishing house I wear many hats but mostly my tasks fall into the "grow the company" category. We are a small press with a huge heart and our diverse content mirrors a corporate house. In order to make sure that all staff work twice as hard (and three times as many hours) in order to survive in these economic time, I have to make sure that everyone is working with high speed and high efficiency (a running joke around here... though I am still serious about it). As I like to tell everyone from senior staff to short-term interns: "I am demanding. I am a perfectionist. I require that staff work outside their comfort zones on a regular basis. If you don't like it, go get a job in fast food."

This blog will serve (mostly) as my simple work log. It will cover my work for the press, schooling my children, and my work for Blue Artisans Design, a web design and fine art firm that I am a member of. Most of my work hours happen at night (often after midnight) but I will start each day with daily noon-time meeting.

12:30 Budget meeting
12:45 Dealt with IE problem. Established that Firefox needs to be installed until we have the funds to maintenance the top central machines.
1:00 Wrote to staff about new blogging requirements. Added URLs to my watched list.
1:15 Prepped royalty sales information with carryover and deductions. Wrote step-by-step tutorial for Launa for filling out the forms and sending them before tomorrow at midnight.
2:15 Trimmed 24 books.
2:30 Math with my son.
3:15 Made lunch.
3:45 Blogged with my son.
4:45 Blogged for school.
5:00 Answered eighteen emails from staff and customers.
5:30 Left to run errands.
7:00 Organized this blog.
7:15 Wrote personal blog.
7:45 Worked on The News, our monthly newsletter for the authors. Create a Chipin widget and associated ChipIn blog page at http://ohp.chipin.com/ohp
2:45 Signed off for the night.
3:00 Wake Cris to check Faith's blood sugar.
5:45 See to Max

Washing Dishes

2007-05-21T20:04:00.000-07:00

Twelve minutes to six o'clock (when the "day" staff breaks for dinner, and in my case, evening school lessons with Maxwell, before night shift begins), our mainline fiction author Mickey Getty ("The Junk Lottery") called. This would be the first time she and I had ever spoken to each other. She has always worked with Cris, who, as Senior Editor, also manages most author contact.

Usually, when I take care of the phone, I answer and take the receiver outside away from the noise. But near the end of the day, the staff are checking in with each other about various tasks and making sure everything is in place for night shift, so I hate to step out. When Mickey called, Launa was on the computer trouble-shooting on one of our author's forums; Cris was stacking supplies away; Faith was running water to water the two big plants; Maxwell was battling Pokemon, and I was walking among the chaos. Mickey commented, "Are you getting the dishes done?"

I smiled for the first time all Monday. I did indeed have a sink half-full of dishes waiting for me but I was surprised that Mickey didn't say, "Oh, are you assembling a robotic elephant with power tools?" That's how noisy it was! I took the phone outside.

But her comment made me stop and think. When our mainline science fiction author Derwin Mak ("The Moon Under Her Feet") called earlier today, I'd mentioned to him how I always step outside. But why do I? Why not, since Mickey didn't seem to be aghast, don't I just skip over to the house and do the dishes? Or vacuum. Or scrub the floor. After all, chores don't take much concentration and I could buy one of those nifty headsets so my hands would be free even when engaging an author on the phone!

I'm trying to balance out the pros and cons. How angry would some of the less humor-inclined authors be if they heard me cleaning the cat box while advising them on the wonders of Borders as opposed to B&N? How tickled would some of our new mom and dad authors be to find out that I'm pulling double duty sorting socks while talking about cover art and fonts?

I'm still weighing it all out. I'll give it a few days. I may need to call Mickey back: "Mickey, this is Jennifer DiMarco. I'm rewiring the upstairs room. What should we talk about?" I think Mickey, who writes about life the way it *really* is, would appreciate the call and the humor.

I'll make the decision and let you all know. In the meantime, I have only fifteen minutes until my night shift begins... and I still have those dishes to do.

Jennifer

A... B... C... Read!

2007-05-16T17:25:00.000-07:00

Maxwell was having a lap day. We all have these days. The days when we just want to be quiet with someone we love. Just sit and be still and safe with our own thoughts about the enormity of life. This isn’t a problem for me. I can work with a child on my lap.

The complication that arises is that, unlike a year or so ago, now Maxwell can read. I may not want my son to see the emails that flood a CEO’s inbox. The legal concerns, the reports of disagreements that need my mediation, the high-stress, high-stakes world that I shoulder willingly for the constant challenge and the satisfaction of a life where “coasting” is never an option.

Maxwell loves to read. His learning to read was tied intrinsically to his being unable to speak until he was three. When, as a mother, you don’t hear the “I love you” that is the word “mama,” you find it in a glance, a smile, an embrace. I found it for those three years in Maxwell’s undivided, rapt and endless attention span. Feeding his intense focus, eight and ten hours at a time, I sang the alphabet forwards and backwards, in twenty different tunes and at three speeds. I recited it by sound, by corresponding words, by superheroes—one for each letter, made up just for him. We read seven hundred picture books one summer. (No wonder I know that market so well.)

I read to Maxwell every day and every night. We took breaks to read like some people takes breaks for a cigarette. I read and pointed to the words. I read and didn’t point. I explained new vocabulary and phrases and between the lines jokes. And I didn’t. His eyes followed mine across the page. From four to six years old, he’d “sneak” his favorite books behind the couch and read silently. The only way I knew he was actually reading was because he always laughed at all the right spots.

But it wasn’t until we started phonics, though, that Maxwell began to read aloud. It wasn’t so much that the phonics taught him to read but rather that phonics taught him the mechanics of what he’d been doing automatically. He’d been relying on memory but now be could decode. We built new shelves for his chapter books.

So, today, as I realize that he’s reading an email where an author is in a fury over a very bad review (as if I, the publisher who believes in the book, is somehow responsible for a small-minded reviewer on public access television), I decide to explain the situation to Maxwell, as his wide blue eyes read silently. I point to some of the sentences and talk quietly. Then I read him my gentle, reassuring response.

“You never get mad, Mama,” he says. But he knows that isn’t true. What he means is: How interesting, Mama, that you didn’t get mad when someone else was.

When I open the next email, an author writing to say they received their newly published book and they cried with happiness as they opened the box, I don’t have to explained anything. Both Maxwell and I are already smiling.

Learning Curve

2007-05-15T22:40:00.001-07:00

I am always thankful to our First Authors. These are those brave souls who allow their books to be the first in a series, format or campaign. Sometimes it is the first time they are in the First position so they may not fully understand the learning curve that exists. The vast majority of these brave authors handle their position with grace, patience, and even honor. Their good humor is a benefit and blessing.

Maxwell is schooled at home through a program with the public school system. They supply all the curriculum, materials, and tools, as well as a schedule with standard pacing and the ability to skip ahead and around. Supported by my delightful tax dollars, this excellent program provides daily “scripts” for parents, lessons written addressed to Maxwell himself. The program also allows Maxwell to progress faster in any subject without the concern of him being in a classroom with considerably older children. He tested in at two years ahead in mathematics, for instance. At home, working with me, I have no problem with this. My slight seven year old placed into a classroom with ten year olds, I’m not sure I’d be as comfortable with.

So far, I have been thrilled with the curriculum and frustrated by the administration. They don’t seem to know what they’re doing. This is the program’s first year and they use a different lexicon than a standard public school. Words like “progressing,” “advancement,” and “summer session” mean subtly different things. The supervising teachers are overwhelmed and under educated. They send countless emails because they forget attachments, have to correct themselves, or weren’t clear enough that anyone could understand them. They cancel outings and organize new ones... only to reschedule those.

The program has online message boards where parents can get together and share ideas and bang their heads against the preverbal brick wall about the disorganization of the administration. I won’t be joining them, despite my own feelings. Why? Because, in another world, that world where I am not “Mama” but rather “Ms. DiMarco” or, on friendly days, “Jennifer,” I *am* the administration. And what all of us parents are experiencing is called learning curve.

As a publisher who, at times, rejects manuscripts and points out flaws, I have been called many things in my life. Most of them are untrue, or, at least, colored (as everything is) but a single-sided view. But, to my knowledge, I have never been called a hypocrite. I have missed deadlines because my children have been ill. When an author misses a deadline because of family, I understand and support them. I have launched a new idea only to realize, half way in, that there are holes in my plan that must be fixed in a timely (and time-consuming) manner. When I glimpse this dynamic in another company, I tell myself to have patience. We all learn, after all, and most of us only need to learn once.

Today at work, there was learning curve with a project called “Advanced My Adventures.” My entire day was spent trying to even out that considerable curve without having to “bounce” the manuscript back to the brave, patient and sweet author. But the paradigm would not shift enough to allow the project the proceed. Back the bounce went. How I hate it when something isn’t on my desk! On my desk, I am in control of the timeline. Off my desk... I am at the mercy of the million little things called “someone else’s life.”

I suppose I just need to work on that patience part, hm? Part of my own, personal learning curve.

In Spring the Phone Blooms

2007-05-14T19:36:00.000-07:00

It always seems that we get more phone calls in the springtime. People tend to be happy and relaxed but still, they call more. Often they call and there's no real question. Just "checking in." Not as many emails come during this time. I think this is because phone calls can be made from cell phones which can be used in the middle of a sunny yard. Emails, by and large, must still be made from inside.

However, even I as write this I remember the email I received from an artist just last week. She closed it by saying she'd write more later... because she was tapping out the message on her cell phone. I suddenly felt very, very old and I told her so. At thirty-three, I don't think I should be made to feel so darn old.

In general, I prefer autumn when everything is building to one final celebration before slipping off to sleep away the winter. I suppose in some industries, autumn is a time of slowing down. But we have royalties in September, marketing plans for the next year are devised, and managing editors are reviewed and either fired or renewed. So autumn is anything but slow.

My son, Maxwell, also loves autumn. He says this is because the leaves change and because Thanksgiving, which he is convinced is a national celebration of his birthday, occurs. He loves the fact that people all over America cook feasts in honor of his growing up another year. Plus, turkey is so tasty, he likes to remind me, turkey being one of only twelve things that Maxwell can and will eat. Nothing tasty is a bad thing.

Well, the phone is ringing, so I better go.

Jennifer