I don't know about the rest of you, but lately my train of thought has been pretty manic. It's been leaping around like a squirrel on a hot plate.

I have a sick family member. It's tax season. I have two books out this month. Right there, that's usually enough to toss me for a loop.

As usual, I have not done enough to publicize the new books. I've bought a few ads, rounded up some reviews from my ever-helpful ARC team.

But I was a reporter for a long time and realize the insane push of schmoozing, demanding, pleading and general self-flagellation required to build buzz around something. It's not that I don't have it in me; it's more that I have ADHD, and the organizational skills and attention span of a gnat.

Hyperfocus on one thing -- like writing or playing guitar -- is aces, easy. Juggling and tracking multiple important tasks AND being sociable?

Good grief, as Charlie Brown said to the football.

I think maybe what I need is a good ol' fashion demonic pact; nothing fancy, no stage and lightshow with dancing succubi and blazing inferno backdrop. Just a good ol' 'meet-you-at-the-crossroads annnnd.... sign here," sort of deal. Ol' Scratch.

Maybe even a back-end rider to let me play guitar for my soul against a Jack Butler-style metal God.

What would I ask for? Oh, easy. Perennial best-seller status. Money can't buy happiness but it sure can take out a lease for a few years.

In the meantime, I console myself with the fact that said books (this one AND this one) will be around for years and someday will make me enough to buy at least -- at least -- a round of beer for the vaguely sulfuric dude at the end of the bar, the one with the prehensile tail and tiny little horns.

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Today, instead of begging for reviews from bloggers and journalists, I am learning how to 'retarget' past Facebook customers.
That's the downside. The upside is I'm working on a client's action novel and it's loads of fun so far; and I'm still tweaking a vigilante tale about some of the hardships some in America face these days, anticipating a note back in a month or three from a literary guru type who is reading it.

I take improving my writing and storytelling quite seriously. Probably too seriously. My computer is becoming overloaded with unreleased books, stories that are probably okay but just aren't where I want them yet. My project list keeps growing, even as my years grow shorter.
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When I'm not working, I've become somewhat obsessed with English panels hows. It started with a QI fixation, as just about every episode is on Youtube. It has grown from there; a surprising number of English comedians in their prime are around my age and have the same odd late seventies/early eighties perspectives. Plus, I can usually beat them at Richard Osman's House of Games.

If I had to guess, I'd say the fascination stems from these shows being largely repeatable, disposable, amorphous -- a string of facts, factoids and jokes.

It's remarkably relaxing to not have to concentrate at all on entertainment, yet also not have to worry about things like plot and character development. Remarkably, Bill Bailey, Alan Davies and David Mitchell are pretty much always Bill Bailey, Alan Davies and David Mitchell. If you like Sandy Toksvig's measured and mirthful tones on QI, you'll probably like her VoXTox series of video blogs. Or vlogs. Or whatever they're called. I'm sure it'll be on QI some night.