The Spouse Thingy is reading my manuscript, looking for typos and stray words that seem to appear out of nowhere—remnants of the original draft that just didn’t get backspaced over during rewrites—and he’s handing the pages over a few at a time. This is the last step before the manuscript goes to layout; the cover is almost ready and the back cover copy is done (fingers crossed that other-author blurbs will fit on it!)
This afternoon I took my trusty netbook and 50 of these proofed pages over to Border’s where I intended to make corrections to the digital version and people watch. But I got there and realized with a well dammit--and after I had already bought my iced tea—that I (again) left the flash drive with the manuscript on it at home.
I figured what the hell, I’ll sit down anyway and flip through a magazine, watch the people come and go. Now, I wasn’t reading garbage, I was looking at an issue of Scientific American Mind (not that I’m cerebral; there’s an article in it about how working out can make you smarter, and I need all the incentive I can get to push my ass to the gym). This grimy looking guy in dirty jeans and holey t-shirt walked by, looked at me with a sneer and muttered “white trash” and then walked away.
I was totally not wearing my white trash clothes today. I have no idea where he was coming from. Still, if reading something so brainy was going to get me sneered at, I figured I might as well put the magazine away (no worries, I paid for it) and pull out my Kindle to read for a bit before heading home to avoid housework.
No one sneered at me for reading on it, even though Border’s sells the Sony Reader.
One of the things I’m seriously enjoying about the Kindle is the sheer volume of books available that have been written by independent authors. These books are typically very inexpensive (and often self-published), but most of the ones I’m buying are very well written. Right now I’m reading an epistolary memoir, Learn Me Good, and I laughed out loud so often that people started to glare at me.
Hey, if they can sit there and carry on conversations on their cell phones, I can laugh out loud.
Or at least snicker.
Damn, that just made me want a candy bar...