Since Black Lace folded, I've felt a bit like I'm flailing around.
Yesterday I went for coffee with a friend who's a book rep. He travels round bookshops and other places touting his publisher's stock. His thoughts? Bookshops are sinking. His job is dying 'the death of a thousand cuts'.
I love bookshops. But I don't love the big shiny monolithic chains. Nothing allowed in there without a Richard and Judy sticker, no space for grubby little curiosities. I think they're successfully killing themselves off, really, by squeezing all the pleasure out of reading.
Alison Tyler has launched a series of ebooks, available as pdfs or for the kindle.
Shanna Germain has launched Mindfuck Fiction, also selling ebooks, including a collection from Jeremy Edwards that I'm just about to nip over and swipe, 'Laura the Laugher'.
Because I'm now two thirds of a mother and because I'm about to get up and start packing to move house and because I'm not sure what the future really holds, I'm thinking and listening. I hear iPhone thoughts and long tail rumours and the possibilities of a brand new brave new world.
I still love books, I'll always love books, only it seems that books are about to change, along with just about everything else in my life.
I can't wait to see where this is all going.