Welcome to this week’s rant, brought to you by the letters A and G, my rapidly dwindling patience, a very crowded name, and a whole lot of paperwork.
Here is the situation. I write books. Real ones, with covers and page numbers. And every time I try to get them listed properly on a book website, the system takes one look at my name and says, “Oh, we already have an Alexandra Grant. She’s famous. Sit down.” Apparently the entire world has room for exactly one Alexandra Grant who has anything to do with books, and it isn’t me. The rest of us are just extras.
Well, no. I’m not going to take that. It’s the same roadblock I hit with Goodreads, and the same one I hit with Author Central back when I started. I’m still standing here with a folder of proof that some of us actually write. We are going to fix it, one stubborn support ticket at a time.
Meanwhile, the glamorous life of an author, as promised by every movie you’ve ever seen: a windswept desk, a cup of tea, a burst of inspiration at midnight. The reality: paperwork. Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork. Proofing, reproofing, editing, correcting, then proofing the corrections. I have read one paragraph so many times it has stopped being English.
THE CRAYON CORNER
Until next week, keep your semicolons close and your paperwork closer.
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Ink-Corrigible Newsletter: Issue 6
Grok is dating my wallet and refusing to tell me how much he’s spending.
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