Gotta laugh. Techno-communications makes me nuts. I tried to order two dozen of my own books today, which I've done several times over the phone. I have an account number -- and since I know the phone number, that oughta do it.
Wrong. On the phone, "all assistants are busy just now" -- all the time. However, you can quickly and efficiently do your business online. Note: same with water, gas, and electric bill stuff. Social security, Medicare, insurance companies, retirement accounts, house and car loan-lenders, doctors, dentists and surely candlestick makers. Everybody's online.
So I go online, where I find I first need a registration filled out so I can get a password, so I can decide which "business" I want to conduct. At that point, I need give them my secret code word (which I don't yet have as that takes another form filled out and, for that, I wait for an email from them.) All this so they can send me a ten-digit number that will allow me to fill in the first page of my request.
At this moment, I have pinwheels where my eyes used to be and, in spite of what I said about networking this morning (see below), just now I wish John P. Technology had never been born. When Alexander Graham Bell died, that should have been that.
I am now going to attempt to order more bookmarks for Sweeping Up Glass and the upcoming Playing With Matches. Online. Wish me luck.
PS. Over the phone -- quick and easy. Thanks, Alex.
Carolyn Wall
In case this author becomes a recluse, this is what she looked like....Courtesy Jennifer J. Parker
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