So (as all great apologies begins), it's been weeks without any word from The Printer's Devil and you've all probably gone and found your respective selves bigger and better, or at least more consistent, blogs to follow. Bearing that in mind, if you're here reading this, I and I'm sure everyone else at the Press appreciates your continued attention.

Having said that, I actually started writing a new entry last week but I could feel it becoming bloated and unmanageable, so I dragged my feet. As will shortly be described, the previous week was fairly eventful, preventing my writing a new entry long enough for me to start writing a bad one. This weekend I wrote a lot for the blog on my record label's website and I started to revisit some old thoughts on finding a written style. Right now I'm tucked in at the center of several influences. I've been focused on finding a style for my label blog, but at the same time I'm writing philosophy and English papers (on Johann Gottlieb Fichte's transcendental philosophy and Shakespeare's comedies, respectively), putting together an outline and bibliography for an independent study (on the medieval Voyage of St. Brendan), and thinking about how to treat The Printer's Devil. For the moment at least, I'm enjoying using The Printer's Devil as a space for developing both a personal professional narrative and a written voice in the same vein. This seems relevant given the importance of communication to work in marketing in general and within publishing.

I thought I would have a bit o' fun and use this entry to experiment with some of the competing impulses that direct my writing. As I write in several contexts with a variety of goals, I typically contend with aggrandizing, trivializing, and minimalizing impulses. These terms might be misleading as I use them broadly. In each case I see some sort of continuum set. Aggrandizing identifies length, importance, and embellishment; trivializing identifies criticism, informality, and a stream-of-consciousness; and minimalizing identifies brevity and discrimination. However, together they supply ample opportunity for internal opposition.

So (as all great project overviews begin), I'm going to combine this experiment with a description of the "eventful" week after my last entry. Below, I will indulge each of the above impulses individually, excluding as much of the others as is possible without psychoanalyzing each entry; first aggrandizement, next triviality, and then minimalism. I’ll try to wrap things up before crossing over from substance into bloated written indigestion.

A) A little more than two weeks ago, three weekends past, I joined Abby for a weekend in Charleston representing WVU Press at the West Virginia Book Festival. Outside of working a few hours at a handful of events here in Morgantown, this was the most time I’d spent at a public happening for the Press and the first genuine publishing function. During the festival, several authors who’ve recently worked with the Press joined us for book signings or readings, another first, as I’d not interacted with any Press authors outside of emails. Lee Maynard, who had more engagements in Charleston than Tim Poland or Gary Jackson Tucker, the other two authors in attendance, wound up spending the most time at our booth. As the Festival wound down, Maynard was good enough to help pack up our equipment and left over books before riding back to Morgantown with us. The weekend was, on the whole, a great introduction to these two aspects of publicity or marketing work, that is, event support and working with authors. The Festival was sometimes busy, but far from overwhelming, and the three authors we met were each very personable. Maynard, Abby, and I all got along well, very fortunate given the three hour drive from Charleston to Morgantown.

B) A couple of weeks ago Abby and I drove down to Charleston for the West Virginia Book Festival in our rented Dodge Avenger (a very silly car that had no handles over the front seat windows that I would have otherwise happily hung my hand from for hours). Operating out of our rooms at the Embassy Suites, we set up our booth for the festival Friday afternoon and spent the evening at Taylor Books, a neat indie bookstore where Lee Maynard was having a book signing. From there, through pouring rain, we moved on to dinner at the Tidewater Grill, where the only vegetarian main dish served that evening was the one I had chicken left out of. The rest of the weekend, with one evening break for enchiladas, was spent at the festival. Maynard returned to the scene Saturday, joining us after Tim Poland and Gary Jackson Tucker had already spent some time at the booth for book signings. Somewhere in there we sold some books, but upon reflection this seems incidental. As the festival wrapped up, Maynard helped us pack our silly car, made no less silly by being crammed with equipment that had been shipped to Charleston the first time round. Packed, we spent a few minutes establishing that North is 90 degrees to the right of the setting sun and drove off. It also bears mentioning that on our way back we had dinner at one of the hundreds of "So-and-so's" Family Restaurants that spring fully formed from the West Virginia soil. This particular instance of the phenomenon distinguished itself by serving hard-boiled eggs instead of a basket of rolls – a good decision in my opinion.

C) 10.9.09//Afternoon, Abby and I arrive in Charleston, WV and proceed to our rooms at the Embassy Suites. Having disposed of our baggage we proceed to the Charleston Civic Center and set up our booth for the West Virginia Book Festival. 10.9.09//Evening, we go to Taylor Books to meet Lee Maynard for a book signing. I purchase a copy of The Slynx. With Maynard, we go to dinner at the Tidewater Grill. I have pasta in a creamy tomato sauce. Maynard is very fond of the rolls. 10.10.09//Morning, have breakfast in the Embassy Suites after approximately one hour of reading in my suite's bathtub. We proceed to the Book Festival. 10.10.09//Afternoon, after establishing that all of the good books at the nearby used book sale had been taken by speculators, I help finish setting up the WVU Press booth. Modest sales. Book signings with Gary Jackson Tucker, Tim Poland, and Lee Maynard draw mixed crowds but extra company not unpleasant. 10.10.09//Evening, Abby and I get Mexican food at Rio Grande, near the Civic Center. 10.11.09//Morning, breakfast at the Embassy Suites, proceed to the Book Festival. 10.11.09//Afternoon, more impressive sales. Pack our things and drive back to Morgantown. 10.11.09//Evening, stop at restaurant. I have two egg biscuits. Maynard swears that he'd been before. I enjoy novelty of hard-boiled eggs. Arrive in Morgantown.

You may have noticed that expectations were confounded, eyebrows raised, etc, and the second of the three ended up being the longest, and even the last was longer than the first. So (I exclaim), deconstruction may not be as direct a method for understanding my stylistic impulses as I supposed, though it has its own utilities. Seeing this outcome, it seems more evident that the stylistic priorities each impulse carries are not so predictable - aggrandizement does not necessarily yield length and minimalization doesn't necessarily yield brevity. What is desirable in each format changes so radically that a synthesis appears not only desirable but critical to conveying a full range of ideas. I hope, and in all honesty I feel as if, that is what I am moving towards.

Maybe next time around I'll write about Barnes & Noble's new e-reader.