Southern Fiction Author, Infrequent Blogger & Retired Clown

I wish I could be as clutch as Peyton Manning.

The holiday season is quickly approaching and I’m scrambling to get my ducks in a row to make a good run at the book-selling market with my novel. ¬†Even with my public relations background, I’m discovering that marketing others is not the same thing as marketing yourself. Most of what I’m doing now should have been done back in August, but alas there’s not much I can do about that now.

I can only hope that I can be as clutch as Peyton Manning was tonight against the Patriots. At the 4:16 mark of the game tonight my friend Alicia looked at me and asked if Peyton would be able to pull out a W. I glanced at the game clock before indignantly responding “No WAY!” (it should be noted that my judgment may have been clouded by the fact that I am a Jaguars fan–albeit a maligned one–which makes the Colts my divisional rivals). Four minutes and thirteen seconds later, Peyton made me (and the Patriots) look ridiculous.

Sorry for the sports aside, but you get my drift. I’ve got to get my act together and soldier on because this is my dream, and I’ll never give up on it. ¬†Like the Zac Brown Band sang to me (and a few thousand others) on Friday night:

“Keep your heart about your head and your eyes wide open, so this world can’t find a way to leave you cold. And know you’re not the only ship out on the ocean. Save your strength for things that you can change, forgive the ones you can’t. You gotta let’em go.”

Later days,


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