The Writers’ Conference

I was with four hundred writers this weekend.  They all want what I have.  A career with two publishers and an agent.  Some of the writers bought my books.  I was told that I was a hard working author.  I’m needed and valued by their community of people.  Life isn’t easy with lazy care attendants and two less than ideal roommates.  I’m lonely here and work is always here.  I have to keep moving forward now not get negative.  My agent gave me a book offer to write a second book, two more interviews, sold and autographed books. I rarely sleep anymore.  I’m making it.

My Struggle

My attendants don’t have time to assist me in using the bathroom at the conference or stay overnight at the hotel.  “That’s not our job,” says the house manager.  We take care of you.  They don’t have time to go for the Capitol for Advocacy Day.  This is what I do.  It’s my life.  I have to fight for everything sending emails to the care agency director.  They like the photo ops, articles, and the books, which they haven’t read.  They see the long hours being spent.  I’m a real author but they don’t care.  My people know.  Last fall I visited my college classmates and when I said goodbye I cried because I can’t get attendants to go anywhere.  I have to be an author, but I feel that what I’m doing for the last time.  I’m just beginning life, but deep down I’m dying.  The arguing is taking a toll and I will quit fighting sometime.  I am the author not like my roommates.  Today I gave the Governor a book since he is an author. But I’m a real author.   I did PR, handing out cards to people and a volunteer read my letter about saving  Medicaid to a legislator.  I had a person come up to me say “I know you” and I didn’t know them.  That’s an author’s life.  My people are not surprised by any of this.  It’s Steve, the English people would say.  And I think about suicide.  I have novels to write and women to make love to.  Today I was an author.  Tomorrow I’m critiquing papers being a TA.  This weekend I’m an author, talking to authors and my agent.  And an article came out on Monday.  Who does that?  Steve, my people would say.  They are right again.  I got what I wanted though.  I’m going to the conference.  I won’t give up I promise.  I love you.  Someday I will be known.

Question

How does an author publish two books in a year?  Visit www.stevenbsalmon.com for the answer.  The answer is persevering through the hard times. 

Going Downtown

I go out in the world this week.  I go to the Capitol to see lawmakers about the changes to Medicaid and Medicare.  I will leave a book for our Governor.  He is an author, but I’m the real author.  It’s too bad that he won’t be in the office to meet me, but he knows who I am.  The writing conference is this weekend.  I will sell and autograph my books.  I’m a real author.  I tend to forget that.  Mom is proud.  I will  savor being out in the world before returning to my office to write another novel. 

March Madness. Yay!

This week is the NCAA Basketball Tournament and I will sit in the recliner to watch it.  I will be a couch potato and eat pizza as I get ready to sell my two books at the writing conference.  That’s an author’s life.

Happy Birthday, Mom

It’s Mom’s birthday.  Mom is proud of me.  It’s a busy time, Mom.  Radio and newspaper interviews, three book signings, and writing a new book.  Work is always there.  Women.  Sorry, Mom.  I’m a new man.  I have manly needs. Two books, Mom.  All because of you!  I have a career.  You aways believed in me.  I’m a real author, Mom.  Thank you.