A MISPLACED BLOG BY A DISPLACED WRITER TYPING IN A CONFINED SPACE THE SIZE OF A MERE UNIVERSE. IF YOU ARE RUNNING AN AD-BLOCKER, YOU'LL MISS A FEW FEATURES LIKE THE FANTASTIC POLL. JUST SAYIN'.

Thursday, 16 July 2015

THE DEMENTIA BLOG. AN UPDATE IN THE COLD LIGHT.

Well, that was relatively painless.
   Yesterday I swept through the blog, looking for posts I wanted to transfer to a Kindle-exclusive dementia-themed book. By night's end, I'd transferred a slice of poetry to a book file.
   There was a lot of BLOGGER formatting to strip out, and I accidentally untidied the book file I worked on.
   With all that unfixing and fixing to deal with, I didn't sweep through the rest of the blog until today. I thought about snatching more of those dementia posts, and squirrelling the fuckers away inside my book...
   Then I thought, er, no. I'll leave dementia posts on a dementia-based blog. KDP exclusivity isn't affected if I use a blog post as a jumping-off point for an idea inside a book...
   Provided I shuffle the words around, to stop Amazon's bots from fucking with the published book, I'll be okay.
   The exception was the poem. I want that in the book, and it can't linger on the blog.
   Story so far? Yesterday, I planned to cull, quash, and squish many a blog post. I updated the entry that used to have a poem on it. And midnight rolled around.
   Today, in the cold light of several hours past dawn, I let the rest of the blog carry on as normal. No more respraying for now.
   And the book?
   No longer singular.
   I plan to write short works. As a carer, I care. Keeps me busy. I like the way I can do things on Amazon. It's hard to write a long book as a carer. And it's hard to read a long book as a carer.
   So here's the plan. Write short works. A sweary fucking dementia book might fucking just be too fuckety fucking much for fucked-up readers to fucking take.
   Well, if you make it through the first fucking section without bleeding from the nose, I'd say that's a good thing. If it works, it works. And if it doesn't, hey, at least I fucking tried.
   That's the plan. Talk about my experience of dementia care. In small doses. This restriction steers me from writing material only of interest to me. That's a large trap, in the world of dementia books.
   To avoid that trap, I must write something worth a carer's time. For that's more precious than a regular reader's time.

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