Sold one Schiz. The buyer had been a secretary at the law firm where I worked in the 1970s when most of the material that resulted in this book walked into my head. She and I re-connected through FB, and she is, I believe, only the second person I met during this decade to buy this book. (Oh yes, the college friend who read it in Hawaii – See previous “Adventure” – “loved” it and thought the ending was “great.” See what you laggards are missing.)
Made another gift of a Cheesesteak. It went to an ex-café buddy – retired contractor/
non-publication-seeking poet – who had decamped to hang elsewhere. I spotted him passing by and chased him down. When I returned to my table, another pal – retired architect/self-publishing author of smut – I mean, adult erotica – said, “I guess it isn’t true that you can’t give this shit away.”
In another news, the photo-illustrated new C.steak edition is at the printer’s and its run paid for. Order your copy now. (Or see me, if you want to write a review.)