This blog is now being treated like a red-headed stepchild. Not surprising given a flurry of non-writing distractions. Life, I think, is what you call it.
Until I either throw down $700 to have some British dude enlighten me on the in-and-out of Facebook advertising, or I close down the shop everywhere else and let Amazon flag my wares exclusively, I'll make do with a download of the books every now and then.
About the only excitement of late was Self-E accepting Lucid into their program. Yet another venue through which the book can be read. I'd love to have the time to read other indie writer's work, but I'm in one of those 'wish in one hand, crap in the other, see which fills up first' situations. Life, I think, is what you call it.