I spent more than six hours tonight formatting my book for the Kindle, and I’m still not close to being done. I may be halfway done. Maybe.
Meanwhile, Danah, who’s an awesome artist with a background in animation and design, moved and shifted all kinds of fonts, shapes, and graphics as she worked on the book cover.
She called me down to the basement about twenty minutes ago and the cover knocked me off my feet. Hopefully, we’ll be posting it soon, and get the book up for sale in the coming days.
But, we want to nail it, so I’m not going to put a hard deadline on when it will be posted.
P.S. You may have noticed the site is no longer called Stan Mitchell, but instead is now Stan R. Mitchell (though the actual address didn’t change). That’s because Danah showed me how much better Stan R. Mitchell looks on the cover. Plus, she argued there are too many Stan Mitchel’s out there, so we should be more specific. I agreed she was right, and loved how the cover looked with the “R,” so I’m now Stan R. Mitchell to my future millions of fans. (And still just Stan, the delusional dreamer and workaholic, to my friends. Though, given that I just finished working 18 days straight at my real job, and given that I haven’t hit the town in so long that I don’t remember where it is, there’s a good chance I don’t even have any friends anymore.)
P.P.S. We’ve also renamed the book. It’s no longer The tale of ‘Little Man’ Paul Zachary and the Dixon County War. It’s now just, Little Man, and the Dixon County War. Several reasons for this. First, fewer words means better looking cover. Second, if you click on the links of my favorite authors down on the right, and then check out their books, you’ll see the vast majority are two words. Thus, our title is primarily Little Man for this one. Third, this will be the first of many Westerns with Little Man, so we’ve got to brand his name and this series.
P.P.P.S. My friends thought my facebook status was hilarious from Wednesday night. It was just after midnight, I was pretty much delirious after three super-long days and nights, and I was running on that half-starved, super-weak energy that somehow the Marine drill instructors manage to shove down your mouth — or up your ass, if necessary. So, when you’re this weak and tired, you’re often trained to basically keep talking shit and then step up to back it up. Marine enemies think we’re crazy, and they’re pretty much right. Enough talk. Here’s my post, written when I was so weak that I could hardly walk out of the office to my Jeep…
Facebook post: “I strongly suggest no one work as much as I worked the past 16 days straight. It was absurd, even by Marine standards. But, tonight, Danah and I wrapped up our special section (and our regular deadline) and can finally sleep in just a bit tomorrow. And Danah Akin Mitchell stayed with me nearly step for step, which given her lack of Marine training, and her lack of seven years of endurance build up for this kind of stupidity, pretty much makes her the bombdiggity — something I already knew. And probably means she’s tempted to look for another husband… I better go find something sweet for her.
“Couple of additional postscripts that I should have mentioned. One, I thank God we had no major tech issues or that I didn’t get massively sick or any number of other problems that could have occurred. Two, for all my dozens of girlfriends out there, who are always nearly suicidal when they go a couple weeks without seeing me, fear not. You know I’ve got weights in the office. I didn’t fall behind on my training regimen. Just my sleep.
“And a final fair warning, to all those writers on the gravy train at the top of the fiction world. Enjoy the ride while you can. You have never — believe me — never met anyone like me. You’ve never had a guy as short as me, with such small man’s syndrome, from an inner city school, with no connections, with such absurd drive, and such insane silly delusions, trying to hunt you down. Believe me. I’m coming for you, and you don’t stand a chance. So, go ahead and hit snooze tomorrow morning. Rest easy tonight. Your days are numbered. Soon, you’ll be praying God smite me with some plague, because otherwise, if I’m able to sit in a chair, or move my fingers, or even pronounce the words, then you’re in deep shit. Because I’m coming for you…”