Confessions of a Book Store Owner

I'm Mik. Model, mother, moron. Future meta-magician. Former logic clinician.

My better half and I own Brainfood Bookstore in Longmont, Colorado. It is the only exclusively indie- and local-lit bookstore in the nation. We meet a lot of crazy folks.

Testimonial from a former roommate:
"Living with you was like living with a quiet little opinionated deer person who floated around like a ghost and said smart/nutso things and ate seaweed. "

I love Colorado. I love mountains. I love hiking. I read and write. I raise my children to the best of my ability. I have lupus and have defeated early-stage cancer twice, so I pretty much fully support the use of medical marijuana.

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Random post

Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor

 

Does anyone know how to link a Tumblr and Wordpress page? Not ‘import’— I don’t want to post everything I’ve posted on a Tumblr page onto a Wordpress page. I just want to make a new tumblr so that, whenever I post in it, it also posts onto a Wordpress page.

unspokenaffection:

one of my RAs is sitting next to me, and im mumbling about all the porn on my dash. and hes like “you know the thing about porn is you usually watch it in private”

tumblr in a nutshell.

that awkward moment when you’re too lazy to touch the keyboard so you scroll through your dash looking for a specific tag for an hour and then realize you’ve wasted your life.

complicationsofbeing:

yeah

I do this on FB too. I don’t want to type someone’s name into the search box so I play six-degrees and try to get to them by clicking people on my news feed then clicking people on their walls. 

What happens if you fall in love with a writer?

Lots of things might happen. That’s the thing about writers. They’re unpredictable. They might bring you eggs in bed for breakfast, or they might all but ignore you for days. They might bring you eggs in bed at three in the morning. Or they might wake you up for sex at three in the morning. Or make love at four in the afternoon. They might not sleep at all. Or they might sleep right through the alarm and forget to get you up for work. Or call you home from work to kill a spider. Or refuse to speak to you after finding out you’ve never seen To Kill A Mockingbird. Or spend the last of the rent money on five kinds of soap. Or sell your textbooks for cash halfway through the semester. Or leave you love notes in your pockets. Or wash you pants with Post-It notes in the pockets so your laundry comes out covered in bits of wet paper. They might cry if the Post-It notes are unread all over your pants. It’s an unpredictable life.

But what happens if a writer falls in love with you?

This is a little more predictable. You will find your hemp necklace with the glass mushroom pendant around the neck of someone at a bus stop in a short story. Your favorite shoes will mysteriously disappear, and show up in a poem. The watch you always wear, the watch you own but never wear, the fact that you’ve never worn a watch: they suddenly belong to characters you’ve never known. And yet they’re you. They’re not you; they’re someone else entirely, but they toss their hair like you. They use the same colloquialisms as you. They scratch their nose when they lie like you. Sometimes they will be narrators; sometimes protagonists, sometimes villains. Sometimes they will be nobodies, an unimportant, static prop. This might amuse you at first. Or confuse you. You might be bewildered when books turn into mirrors. You might try to see yourself how your beloved writer sees you when you read a poem about someone who has your middle name or prose about someone who has never seen To Kill A Mockingbird. These poems and novels and short stories, they will scatter into the wind. You will wonder if you’re wandering through the pages of some story you’ve never even read. There’s no way to know. And no way to erase it. Even if you leave, a part of you will always be left behind. If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.

Dear nearly-twenty-five-thousand Tumblrites who have reblogged this particular post:

Hi. My name’s Mik. I wrote that post. Did you like it? I hope you did. You probably did. Why else would you reblog it? Well, some of you didn’t like it, but I’m pretty sure that most of you probably reblogged it because you liked it. At the very least, a few thousand of you probably did. 

Well, I have something to tell you. Firstly: You guys really heightened my confidence as a writer. I didn’t think I could write. Not things people would read, anyway. Then you people read that. And reblogged it. And I was like, well shit, 24-thousand-odd people read something I wrote. And I didn’t even mean for them to. I didn’t know anyone would read it. How many people could I get to read something I wanted to be read?

So I self-published a book. That’s right, YOU freaks are responsible for this phenomenon. I spent 7 years writing, editing, and querying for an agent, and all it took was four months, thirty-five dollars, and a shit-ton of Tumblrites for me to publish it all by myself. 

So now that I’ve said thank you, I’d like to give you my thank-you gift. That’s right, you get a gift. Today, Sunday, May 20, the Kindle version of my novel is free all day. Here’s the link to purchase Turtle on Kindle for the great low price of zero dollars, yours to keep forever or until e-readers become obsolete. It is also borrowable for free all day everyday from the Kindle Lending Library. I guess that’s just how libraries work, bro.

So, thank you. Please reblog so that everyone gets the gift… er, um, my gratitude… And please keep reading and writing and making life magical. <3

Love, 

Mik. 

(Source: karenfelloutofbedagain)

What happens if you fall in love with a writer? Lots of things might happen. That’s the thing about writers. They’re unpredictable. They might bring you eggs in bed for breakfast, or they might all but ignore you for days. They might bring you eggs in bed at three in the morning. Or they might wake you up for sex at three in the morning. Or make love at four in the afternoon. They might not sleep at all. Or they might sleep right through the alarm and forget to get you up for work. Or call you home from work to kill a spider. Or refuse to speak to you after finding out you’ve never seen To Kill A Mockingbird. Or spend the last of the rent money on five kinds of soap. Or sell your textbooks for cash halfway through the semester. Or leave you love notes in your pockets. Or wash you pants with Post-It notes in the pockets so your laundry comes out covered in bits of wet paper. They might cry if the Post-It notes are unread all over your pants. It’s an unpredictable life.
But what happens if a writer falls in love with you?
This is a little more predictable. You will find your hemp necklace with the glass mushroom pendant around the neck of someone at a bus stop in a short story. Your favorite shoes will mysteriously disappear, and show up in a poem. The watch you always wear, the watch you own but never wear, the fact that you’ve never worn a watch: they suddenly belong to characters you’ve never known. And yet they’re you. They’re not you; they’re someone else entirely, but they toss their hair like you. They use the same colloquialisms as you. They scratch their nose when they lie like you. Sometimes they will be narrators; sometimes protagonists, sometimes villains. Sometimes they will be nobodies, an unimportant, static prop. This might amuse you at first. Or confuse you. You might be bewildered when books turn into mirrors. You might try to see yourself how your beloved writer sees you when you read a poem about someone who has your middle name or prose about someone who has never seen To Kill A Mockingbird. These poems and novels and short stories, they will scatter into the wind. You will wonder if you’re wandering through the pages of some story you’ve never even read. There’s no way to know. And no way to erase it. Even if you leave, a part of you will always be left behind. If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.

What happens if you fall in love with a writer?  

Dear 24-thousand-odd Tumblrites who have reblogged this particular post:

Hi. My name’s Mik. I wrote it. Did you like that post? I hope you did. You probably did. Why else would you reblog it? Well, some of you reblogged it to say not very nice things about me, but I’m pretty sure that most of you probably reblogged it because you liked it. At the very least, a few thousand of you probably liked it. 

Well, I have something to tell you. Firstly: You guys really heightened my confidence as a writer. I was like, well shit, 24-thousand-odd people read something I wrote. And I didn’t even mean for them to. I didn’t know anyone would read it. How many people could I get to read something I wanted to be read?

So I self-published a book. That’s right, YOU freaks are responsible for this phenomenon. I spent 7 years writing, editing, and querying for an agent, and all it took was four months, thirty-five dollars, and a shit-ton of Tumblrites for me to publish it all by myself. 

So now that I’ve said thank you, I’d like to give you my thank-you gift. That’s right, you get a gift. On Sunday, May 20, the Kindle version of my novel will be free all day. Here’s the link to purchase Turtle on Kindle; all day on Sunday, May 20, it will be for sale for the great low price of zero dollars, yours to keep forever or until e-readers become obsolete. It is also borrowable for free all day everyday from the Kindle Lending Library. I guess that’s just how libraries work, bro.

So, thank you. Please reblog so that everyone gets the gift… er, um, my gratitude… and keep reading and writing and making life magical.

Love, 

Mik. 

chuckhistory: These are the best responses I have gotten so far to my call for new blogs to possibly follow.  Oh that&#8217;s cool.  PS Everyone who has followed me for more than like a week knows that I have said this again and again, but for those who are new: Parenting is 95% emulating the effects of acid, and the other 5% is vegetables. 

chuckhistory:

These are the best responses I have gotten so far to my call for new blogs to possibly follow. 

Oh that’s cool. 

PS Everyone who has followed me for more than like a week knows that I have said this again and again, but for those who are new: Parenting is 95% emulating the effects of acid, and the other 5% is vegetables. 

wichitameetup: Are you attending the meetup? RSVP here: http://www.tumblr.com/meetup/9790 This is TOMORROW, April 15, at The Donut Hole at 2pm! I&#8217;d love to meet some of my followers! :)

wichitameetup:

Are you attending the meetup? RSVP here: http://www.tumblr.com/meetup/9790

This is TOMORROW, April 15, at The Donut Hole at 2pm! I’d love to meet some of my followers! :)

wichitameetup:

THE WICHITA MEETUP HAS ARRIVED!

WHEN? :  SUNDAY APRIL 15, 2012  @2:00pm

WHERE? : THE DONUT WHOLE 1720 E. DOUGLAS

WHAT? : TUMBLR MEETUP!!!

wichitameetup:

THE WICHITA MEETUP HAS ARRIVED!

WHEN? :  SUNDAY APRIL 15, 2012  @2:00pm

WHERE? : THE DONUT WHOLE 1720 E. DOUGLAS

WHAT? : TUMBLR MEETUP!!!

wichitameetup:

THE WICHITA MEETUP HAS ARRIVED!

WHEN? :  SUNDAY APRIL 15, 2012  @2:00pm

WHERE? : THE DONUT WHOLE 1720 E. DOUGLAS

WHAT? : TUMBLR MEETUP!!!

Anyone interested in organizing tumblr meetup in Wichita?

wichitameetup:

If you are intrested please ask for an invite to join this blog.

http://www.tumblr.com/meetups

So, the casting call went well.

The interviewer said I answered the questions really well, so that’s good.

One question was which previous castmember I thought I was most like. OF COURSE I said Allison Harvard, even though I could only ever dream of being a beautiful as her. I just think I’m also a relatively creepy person, and I mentioned that she was popular on 4chan, which I relate to because Tumblr is my life.

Yeah. My audition tape has the word ‘Tumblr’ in it like four times.

yoo guize prowd?