I’d love for my books to be perfect–error free, interesting and fun. With that goal in mind, I’ve spent countless hours proofreading and revising Doesn’t Take a Crystal Ball and A Psychic Couldn’t See It.
I am nowhere near perfection with either book and never will be. I’ve never written a book before. I’d have to be completely delusional to think that I’d produce flawless books. And most days, I’m not delusional.
So why am I constantly editing e-books that are already available on Amazon? I don’t know. It’s not like I’m making big changes to the content.
No matter how many times I proofread the books, I find typos and grammatical errors. If I proof them a hundred times, I’ll find errors a hundred times. Still, I keep proofreading. It’s like an obsession.
While I play around with the first two books, the third one remains incomplete. At the end of book two, there’s a statement about when the third one will be available. If I don’t stop with the editing, I’m never going to get book three online in time.
A new year is right around the corner, and next year things are going to be different. In 2017, I’m going to write a book, put it online and move on. And if I really believe that, this is definitely one of my delusional days!
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Lizzie Chandler, the heroine in my books, is a psychic. While psychics make for great entertainment in books, movies and TV, I’m not sure if there is any more to them than that.
I grew up in the South. I won’t say where, but it’s one of those states that people are a little embarrassed to claim. A few years ago, I moved to another state, but I’m still a Southerner.
We believe some odd things down here. All my life, I’ve been around people who firmly believe in psychics. They believe in ghosts, too. I’m not going into that right now, because ghosts are the topic of my next series of e-books. I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself.
So, back to psychics. I’ve always wavered on that subject. I’ve had psychic readings at fairs and flea markets (or swap meets as some people call them). The psychics at those places were pretty bad.
There was one older Native American gentleman doing psychic readings at a flea market. I immediately thought of those wise old Indians in the movies. Not being racist there, but we all know Hollywood plays up that stereotype.
I’m guessing the guy at the flea market was counting on poor suckers believing that Hollywood nonsense. I’m embarrassed to admit I was one of those suckers who forked over ten bucks, or however much he charged me that day.
He started the psychic reading by telling me I’d live to be 45 or 50 years old. As you can probably imagine, things went downhill from there! That’s been ____ years ago, and I still can’t shake that stupid prediction. I’m not going to admit my age, but let’s just say that if the guy was right, the Grim Reaper may be knocking on my door any day now.
Once, I went to a house that had one of those “psychic adviser” signs in the yard. The sign should have had the “for entertainment purposes only” disclaimer on it, because it was the most laughable psychic reading a person could ever have.
Every time that psychic made a statement, she paused and asked if it was right. When I told her no, she said, “Yes, it is.” It was quite entertaining, but probably not in the way that woman meant for it to be.
Before I go on, I’m going to take a moment to offer words of wisdom: never, ever go into a total stranger’s home for a psychic reading (or for any other reason if you can avoid it). There are a lot of crazy people out there! I had my coworker with me, but still, it was beyond stupid for two young females to willingly go into a stranger’s home.
I saw a sign in one yard for “physic” readings. I was smart enough not to stop there. If the person couldn’t see that the sign was wrong, then he or she certainly couldn’t see into my future.
I did go to one psychic who seemed to REALLY know his stuff. I’m not going to say more about that person, because I’m paranoid that he’ll know I’ve been talking about him online. I’m thinking it might be a bad thing to get on the wrong side of a true psychic.
But then again, maybe that guy snowed me, and true psychics don’t even exist. What do you think?