I’ve been working on my magazine pretty much since I got up, trying to get the July issue all done and off to the printer. Sometimes the pages and layouts just spill onto my screen effortlessly. It’ll sound kinda corny but when I do my best creative work it feels like the cosmos is directing me. That whatever I’m doing just comes out all on it’s own.
Same goes with writing or whatever, too. They’re not my words, they come from somewhere else. It’s like being funny. Everybody knows that we’re not funny when we’re trying to be.
I decided not to continue with the book format and went back to the magazine style. The former just cost way too much and my plans for Amazon domination didn’t pan out. I had intended to sell it on their website but it turned into such a headache with their print/bleed/gutter guidelines demands that I simply gave up. I print how I want.