Vera Constantineau

The last thing I need is another calendar. I’ve got a big one devoted to keeping all my meetings on track and it works like a charm. And yet, I carted home a prop-up desk calendar yesterday, complete with an inspiration on each square. It was the title that hooked me, Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff.

I’ve got a lot going on, meetings aside. In a month and four days, I am sending my book baby out into the world. Every day I think of something new to wonder about. Will there be people? Will the book arrive on time? Will it be well received? You can see where I’m going with this, I’m sweating all the small stuff and a lot of it is the stuff I can’t control.

The venue is booked and the chef assures me the food will be great. The sample readings I’ve done of a few pieces got the response I was hoping for. Still, there must be something I’ve missed on the yards long list of things I must do before the day arrives.

Back to the calendar. Since today is March 11^th and the calendar is a 2023, I have some catching up to do. I started taking the previously passed days off the pad and stalled on the words of January the 4^th. That one square had impact. It was about first impressions. I wondered what kind of first impression I would make, then I remembered it was highly likely anyone who shows up to a book launch has already met you and, dare I say, liked your impression, or they wouldn’t be at your launch? I don’t mean that to sound egotistical, if it does, I apologize. I’m simply saying, those who know me, do. Those who don’t won’t likely be there. I ripped that sweaty moment off the calendar pad and moved along. I may have muttered, “Small stuff, small stuff.”

The updates on the launch planning etc. will arrive in a speedier fashion, or so I hope. I could get sidetracked by another piece of advice from my desktop calendar, or I could skip ahead to my birthday and see what that day says. I’m pondering. No, I believe I’ll rip them off two at a time and before you know it, I’ll be up to date and this paper antiperspirant will be working like magic.   

I’m currently in a workshop on how to use social media to market your book. The first point made was not to use social media as a sales site, so, Dear friends on Facebook who follow me at Vera Constantineau Author, on Instagram following me with veraconstantineau please ignore everything I’ve said to you about my book launching on April 15th 2023 and also, never mind that I’ve shown you the GREAT cover

Here’s a picture of a restaurant with no one in it. Which is a metaphor of a book launch with no guests because i failed to plug my book… Well, as for the restaurant, I was there, I took the photo. Have a good evening.

I’m an optimistic person. I anticipate remaining so despite having had a house filled with Covid. In late October my husband tested positive, as did our daughter and her partner. In early November it was my turn.

Not going to lie, it was ugly, although we were the fortunate ones who didn’t have any hospital stays. The only remaining issue is a nagging cough for me, the rest have gone back to their usual hale and hearty lives. For the record, it’s coming up to a month out of my own life.

I missed things. Important things to me, not earthshaking for anyone else. I missed our on the in-person activities of Wordstock Sudbury although I was able to follow along with most of the presentations with their great hybrid festival. There were tears, it’s true. I promise myself to attend in person next year barring any unforeseen situations. I missed meetings with groups and online workshops, but mostly I missed the energy it takes to follow through with that stuff, I got wiped. I’m 95% but this *%@! Cough.

The back roads portion happens now. Since my husband recovered before me, he was kind enough to take me on a back road ride when I was feeling up for it. The trees and the bounce of gravel off our tires always makes my poetry nerve sing, but the ride was especially sweet for its healing calm. I’m grateful for his understanding of this need of mine.

If you’ve suffered the vid, you have my sympathy. I am filled with gratitude for the care we received. Having come through, I want to encourage everyone to mask it up. Protect yourself, no one else will,

I’ve been a Goodreads user for years. I liked that it helped me keep track of the books I read and the ratings I’d given each. I also set myself up for the Goodreads challenge every January. I was 7 books away from completing my goal for this year and the site locked me out. I used Facebook to log in and for some reason one was not speaking to the other. Must have been some fight.

I tried everything, but I couldn’t find a way to access my page. Finally, I gave up and created a new page where, just this evening, I added the last of the seven books I needed to finish the challenge. I’m something of a control freak so you have no idea how galling it is to have people think I didn’t finish. Oh well. I begin again.

The seven books I read this past while have been an eclectic mix, as is my way. Some literary fiction, some romance, some mystery, some thriller, some poetry. What’s your book blend?    

Truly, I do. Her name is not for public broadcast, but we can give her a nom de plume. She’d like that, she’s a writer. Who among us hasn’t imagined writing under an assumed name and all the things you’ve always wanted to say are said. Even better, the words come out of your character’s mouth leaving you as innocent as a lamb. See? This is a perfect example of my husband’s claim that I can’t focus. Back to my friend, Mary.

She took off on a road trip recently, car packed to the roof with everything and more that she thinks will be necessary or potentially necessary. After her first two nights on the road, she arrived at my place for lunch and chat. A rest-up before the short leg of her journey to night number three on the road. We had a stellar time. When she was ready to make tracks, she mentioned that she needed a list of directions to get back to the Trans Canada. I got the sticky notes.

Here, my husband would guffaw and point, asking who in their right mind would ask me for directions anywhere. He could be right. I do tend to get turned around. I began filling in my sticky notes and realized how convoluted it was. I suggested I lead her to the connecting road, where she would go on her way and I would wave her off and return home. I warned her about the three way stop, where, if you miss the exit, you can simply turn right and be on the proper road. No panic.

I led, she followed. Until she didn’t. I exited, she didn’t. Luckily she’d heard my instruction about the right turn/proper road thingy. I’d pulled over to wait for her when I saw that she had failed to exit with me. When she passed me, I pulled out behind her. I followed along until the place I’d mentioned where we would be two paths diverging, not in a wood, but in the city. I pulled up beside her open passenger window and yelled, keep on going Mary and you’ll get to exactly where you want to be. In that moment I saw that she had no idea I’d followed her to this point, it threw me, it really did. Days later I got an email from her. She’s fine, if she gets lost she just pulls off and asks for directions. This trip she’s on is going to last a month, I can’t imagine the adventures she will have to speak about when she returns.