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Touchy-Feely

6/6/2014

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I wrote some flash fiction pieces recently.  It happened by accident really.  I had just finished a story (the one that comes out at the end of the month) and was waiting to hear from the other half of my team for the co-authoring project I'm working on.  I was daydreaming (where most of my ideas come from) and of course doing "The Stare" (see entry from May 30th).  Something quickly came together that was complete in a matter of 10 to 15 minutes, and within that week I had written a total of three pieces of flash fiction that I was very fond of.  I began hunting around for a place to submit and found an abundance of "online" magazines and E-books but hardly anything publishing print copies.  Hold that thought and allow me to digress a moment.  I promise to get back to why I  prefer hard copies. 

The publishing world is indeed vast, and can be very intimidating when you first start trying to get your feet wet in those deep waters (I just recently got my first toe wet and am perfectly content sitting on the dock where it's safe for now).  I'm sure those who have created a painting, a story, a song or a multitude of other creative endeavors can relate to having a deep personal connection to each piece and deeming each one "your child."  A completed story is no less different for me than when I finish a painting.  I want to find the perfect home for "my child" as I give up my rights and reluctantly hand it over; not just to any home but one where I know it will fit in and be appreciated and....okay monetary persuasion can also be within the jury of the decision making process. 

As promised, now back to why I prefer print over online publishing. 
I'm old school.  I like to hold it all in my hands.  I'm not down with MP3s.  I can't hold them in my hand.  I want the album cover to stare at (yes, I'm that old school).  I don't want the digital download of  the game.  I want the real deal with the graphic-intense container and printed instructions.  I don't want the E-book where I virtually flip the pages with each page fed by computer-enhanced light.  I want the paper in my hands with real pages to flip as each one permeates my nostrils with it's distinct scent; that when I'm done reading I can set on my shelf as a conquered trophy to be lent out to anyone asking if I have a good book they could borrow.  I want people to be able to hold any and all of my work the same way.  I want to hold all my children, not just look at pictures of them.
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