Self-Publishing Authors Need PAs

There is just so much to organise yourself when you are a self-publishing author.  I have been thinking that I really need a PA because my daily tasks before getting to the writing part are just so time consuming.
 Here is a taste of my daily world:

• Check emails and write responses. This is the most time consuming part as emails vary so much from day to day. They may encompass responding to topics such as writing about a reader's own memories of Alaska, answering questions about some aspect of my stories, answering enquiries about upcoming talks, book orders, responding to questions about their own writing, or simply replying to a complimentary email about a reader's enjoyment of my writing.
  
• Prepare books from internet sales; signing, addressing and placing book marks and business cards inside. Put packages by front door for posting.
• Respond to or ask questions about development of my website, an ongoing and evolving process.
• Check the number of books, postage bags, bookmarks, business cards remaining and reorder as needed.
• Talk with my printer about further print runs and where to send them.
• Decide on an outfit, “Which quspuk this time?” for an upcoming talk.
• Prepare book bags, artefacts and spare books for an upcoming talk.
• Charm Kotz in the hopes he will accompany me to said talk.
• Worry about getting talks into the North Island, “How can I do that?”
• Check calendar for upcoming appointments.
• Make any necessary bookings for upcoming talks.
• Try to write 500 words of my new writing project.
• Write blog.

Having thought about all this, I am realizing that Kotz is a actually a very good PA for me and I am lucky. He provides ongoing positive encouragement, even when I am exhausted. He gives me reminders – ”What’s happening this week, honey?” He is my box and luggage-toter, as well as my postie.  His ears are always flapping to hear any piece of writing I may be doing.
 
So I am grateful for my very own PA; even if he does continue to puff on his beloved cigars when I read to him, leaving me wondering if it is the cigars or the writing that lowers his lids in definite pleasure.