My problem is that my anger against the social media empires hasn't gone away. With every day of Trump's turning the army agianst its own people, yanking people out of their lives, creating terrorists by destroying families, etc., I just find it that much harder to say to people, hey, come to Amazon! Get on Facebook! See my pop-art ads on Twitter! Of course Elon has already turned against him. Too late! You put millions into putting him there, and now I don't want to be in the same room.

So what's left? Well there are these blogs, although even they are owned by Google and represent the same kind of benevolent self-publishing industry that I enjoy with Createspace. I'll defend a democratic, you-publish-it free speech kind of operation - and I'm sure both Google and Amazon are benefiting plenty, in their own way - still, they at least provide a public marketplace for me to speak my mind. Yet I feel like with my own energy and money, I should be setting up more of a you-print-it you-distribute-it kind of operation.

Recently I had to raise all my prices for Amazon paperbacks. According to Amazon it's become more expensive to print them. Apparenty it's become way more expensive in Australia and Poland, for whatever reason - though I'm not sure they've ever printed one for me in Poland. Nevertheless I had to cover their expenses, and in the process ask myself if it's really worth it to sell books when I'm getting less than a dollar each. Probably the answer is no, it's not. Raise them a little more. I've always had the Warhol strategy - volume over price - but I'm not generating the volume. I'm not flooding the market. That's partly because I'm shunning social media.

I wonder what other writers experience this (probably most). And what kind of solutions there are. Now my writing time - the one time I have to concentrate, Sunday morning (now), I have to concentrate on giving a ride. I forgot last week! Ouch. As the last of twelve children grind through their final years I'm left with a desk of unfinished projects, half-written books, like promises unfulfilled. But it's Father's Day, and my daughter wrote me a poem.

Time to celebrate, and possibly publish.