It’s been a busy week here at Worldbuilders central. We got a surprising number of orders for Unfettered in the Tinker’s Packs, along with people taking the chance to buy t-shirts, posters, and other assorted ephemera.
After I mentioned the book on Monday’s blog, we had about 500 orders, which is (if you’ll excuse my language) a shit-ton of orders for us to process in a week. But my team rose to the challenge, stared it grimly in the eye, and destroyed it.
Or, if we didn’t destroy it, we at least gruesomely maimed it.
I think my analogy is falling apart here.
My point is that everyone’s orders are being processed and shipped out with such speed and efficiency that you’d think that we were entirely staffed with some manner of high-tech robot ninjas. We’ve got the first 350 out the door already, and would be even further along if not for the whole federal holiday/post office being closed on the 4th of July thing.
First, I’d like to thank so many of you for supporting both Worldbuilders and Shawn by buying the anthology off the tinker’s packs.
Second, I should mention that if you’re one of those people who feels a burning desire to pick up first edition copies of books, they’re selling *much* faster than I’d anticipated. I asked Shawn, and it turns out that the first printing of this book was only 5000 copies. He’s sold a couple thousand. I’ve sold 500. The rest are going to get snapped up pretty quickly….
Thirdly, if you don’t know what the deal with the anthology is, you can read the introduction I wrote for the book over on Goodreads.
Lastly, a story about Oot….
* * *
The man himself, showing off his new fruit-and-music tattoo.
When he showed it to me, he explained that it was pretty cool and that it made him super tough.
“How tough?” I asked.
Wow. That’s pretty tough.
But that’s not the story. That’s just the prologue.
This is the story….
A couple days ago, the two of us were taking a walk, giving mom some time to herself. We were looking at trees mostly.
On this particular walk, Oot also had brought a sack with him. He told me it was his bird sack. That’s where he’s going to put the birds he catches. Into the sack. He’s obsessed with trying to catch birds right now. Chases them all over.
And Honestly? I wish him the best. Aim high. Dream the dream.
Then out of the blue he says, “Y’know dad, I’d like to see you write your own book.”
“What was that?” I ask. It’s caught me a little off guard. He knows I’m an author, but he’s never asked anything like this before.
Then I realize this is probably because two blocks back, I stopped to chat with some folks out doing yard work. A husband and wife, older than me. What I think of as grandparent age.
Are you that author? they asked.
I am that author, I said.
We can’t can’t wait until the third book, they say.
Side note: If I ever get snippy or terse about people being on my case about book three, it’s because of this sort of thing. It’s not mean spirited. And honestly, taken by itself, it’s fine. Flattering even. And it’s loads better than someone screeling, “Why aren’t you writing the next book right now!!!”
The problem is that it’s incessant. I don’t just get it online. I don’t just get it when I go to conventions. I get it when I go for a walk around the block with my boy. Three years of this sort of thing wear a guy down.
Anyway, Oot repeats himself, he says, “I’d like to see you write your own book.”
I thought about it a little bit, then asked, “What do you think that would look like?”
“Oh you know,” he said, very matter-of-fact. “You’d pull a feather out of a turkey. Then dip it in some ink and write on some paper.”
I nodded. “That is probably what it would look like.”
Then I asked, “How much time do you think it takes to write a book?”
“Oh you know,” he said. “Not so long….”
I’ll admit my heart fell a little bit when he said that. I found myself thinking, Oh Oot, not you too….
But then he kept going, “…but long.”
And you know what? He’s exactly right. That’s exactly how much time it takes to write a book: Not so long, but long.
Just in case you were wondering….
pat
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