People make me sick.



I’ve come to realise something I was hoping to avoid.  People simply will not be persuaded to buy my books.  I don’t know why this should be.

It can’t be because they’re shit; you’d need to read them first to decide whether they’re shit or not and in order to read them, you’d have to buy them.  They’re not shit anyway, they’re fucking brilliant epic space opera adventures; well written with plenty of action and with better spelling and grammar than most books I read.  No they’re not perfect, show me one that is..!

It can’t be that you can’t afford the $1 for the ebook version because you keep boasting over at facebook about the new iphone you’ve bought, the wonderful  holiday you’ve just returned from, the new wheels you’re cruising around in, those cute Jimmy Choo’s you treated yourself to or the £3.50 vanilla late’s you have every day at Starbucks.  Tell me you can’t afford $1 you fucking liar, go on..!

Maybe it’s because I’m not famous.  That is certainly true, I’m not – yet.

Maybe it’s because I don’t bribe you with free kindle’s or Amazon gift cards in return for your purchase.  Again true – I don’t and never will.

I reckon it’s because those of the facebook classes haven’t the ability to write a novel and are jealous that I have and have done so six times already and they don’t want to appear to be happy about it as it would further illustrate their own inability to string more than two intelligible words together.  Well, carry on de-evolving and when you’re back amongst the other slime moulds in the swamp, I’ll still be one of the highest forms of life with a brain that actually works.

Yes, you’ve guessed it, I’m pissed off.

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