Oh ho ho. Good one, universe. You got me again.
See, I have been making the slow transition to a cultist in the House of Digital lately all unknowing. Seamlessly, as Richard Polt might say.
Not that I haven't been utilizing to their greatest extent my analog devices—rather, I have been putting all my creative eggs in the digital basket. After all, publishing a digital file on Amazon was — well — a little too easy. Sure there were some minor formatting piccadilloes to deal with, but far fewer than you'd think, friend.
So it was that when Createspace asked me if I wanted a physical proof of Pen and Platen, I ordered one for no other reason than to have it on hand, to flip through for my own amusement. "Oh, what's that on the shelf? Just an old anthology of mine from when I was poor. Why yes, I will have some more caviar and champagne, thanks."
But then this arrived and CHANGED EVERYTHING.
It came swaddled in a thin layer of cardboard, this harbinger of destiny, and once I got it in the house, I realized that I couldn't open it. The concept of having created a real actual book was suddenly too much for me to bear. I mean, I have created digital files legion, what's one more?
I had to have Gen open it behind my back, then set it on the table so that I could turn around slowly and look at it. I opened the pages and looked through. It was a damn book.
So like a literary Saint Paul on the road to Damascus, my eyes were opened. My slow slide towards the purely digital lifestyle has been upended by this one thing — this slim, six by nine manifestation of my literary labors.
I want to make books.
So once I make some changes and corral the odd formatting gremlin, I'm gonna start selling physical copies of Pen and Platen: Short Stories Written the Long Way. It'll probably take a few weeks and cost a little more, but the thought of someone else out there holding a physical copy of my words in their hand at home or at the DMV or at the park fills me with a sense of terrible import, if even on my own microcosmic level.
It's proof that I wrote. That I write. And I love it.