The day after Memorial Day was the first time I heard that Xanga was coming to an end. Rumors like that have come and gone many times over the years and when the fund raising drive began I thought that this was just a money grab, a variant of a salesman’s closing by creating a sense of urgency.
The only thing that happened as far as I was concerned was that I never posted there again but for contact information for my friends to get in touch with me if they wanted. I started writing at WordPress and the summer wore on.
At this time I was still content to write fiction fragments for my friends to read if they wished.
And then a sudden realization. That despite my dozen or so novels they remain unpublished. And then I thought about dying.
People are always finding ingenious ways to get killed. Car accidents. A plane could crash on the house. The propane tank in the back yard could explode. Or I could get mortally ill.
That’s when I decided to at least get copyrights on all of the stories. Different parts of them are scattered all over, and I finally got all of Househusband, the first Dana story in one place. I’ve been trying for weeks to get straight answers from the copyright office and to overcome my spasticity about computers. By now I’m almost finished pulling Tenement together, the second Dana story.
After college I went the classical way of mailing off unsolicited manuscripts and collecting rejection letters, but now everybody has “written books.” On Amazon, that is. And if they can do it, why not me? Even if no one buys anything I write, I’ll have the copyright to as many as I can get before I die.
And no matter what I will never sell a copyright. Not one.