Skeeters, Fleas and Noseeums.

Frustrations abound. It’s all very bi-polar, too. On the one hand, so many amazing things have happened and the book is being better received (by the people who are getting it) than I’d dared to hope. But for every amazing, breath-taking little victory comes a tedious and teeth-grinding speed bump!

Here’s one example: Marketing paperback mailed to editorial assistant at Chicago Tribune October 2nd. Received call from said assistant 3 days later, “Got the envelope, but no book inside…must have fallen out. Could you please resend? Your press release is great and we are very interested!”

I thank her for calling and not just throwing it all in the garbage. I promptly run to local post office with new paperback, sturdy envelope and arrange for 2nd delivery. I arrange for Priority Mail. I arrange for delivery confirmation. I check status online 3 days later and website says there was no one there AT THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE BUILDING and they had to leave a notice for redelivery!! Phone calls were made, hair was pulled, jaws were clenched…. Allegedly re-delivery was arranged. Three days pass and I check website again. I read the exact same message! Thus, more phone calls! More hair pulled! Etcetera etcetera! In the mean time I’m thinking…newspaper reporters aren’t afforded the world’s longest memories. Every day lost is a day freaking LOST!

This morning I trot down to same post office and try to find out where the package is. Literally, no one knows. A super nice lady there, Pam, offered me a phone number for the station that services the Trib. She agreed there’s no excuse, Priority should have been there October 7th. No, she doesn’t know where it is, but…someone at this number may be able to help.

So I call that number as soon as I get home. A lady named June answers and hears my tale of woe. She says, “There’s no reason for a notice to have been left anywhere because the Tribune comes here to pick up all their mail.”


So…at this point, June has my phone number. She’s trying to find the book down there at the Fort Dearborn station. I’ve left a voice mail for the reporter, essentially begging her not to forget our earlier conversations. If I don’t hear back from June by morning, I’m going to walk a 3rd copy of the book into the Tribune building and place it in someone’s hands. Probably a security guard, because I’m sure at some point they’ll have to make an appearance.

So. An amazing and fortuitous thing happens…shortly followed by frustrating/infuriating things. Such is life, I suppose. Teeter totters and ebb and flow and all that…. But man, oh man…. I’m about to exhaust my Profanity Supply.

And I haven’t even told you about the thing with the woman at the other bookstore….

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