OK. For some silly reason, I thought I should develop my writing skills, then self-publish a few books on Amazon and work myself into a retiring life of ease. So, for the past few months, I focused on various highly-recommended books on writing, forced myself into long nights of study, and committed myself to capturing whatever silly thought crossed my mind. (Don't worry, most of these practice pieces are well hidden in draft format. You will never see them on this blog. Maybe.)
Yes, I know what you're thinking. Just what we need during the year of the apocalypse, more junk to add to the ever growing mountain of books from writers who think you need to be privy to their every miniscule thought.
Of course, you forget that this is a marketing game. I only have to tickle the fancy of anyone who has nothing better to do than to read my silliness. Out of 7 billion people, I only need a dollar a year from less than 50,000 readers to live a comfortable life. People have become millionaires with more trivial products - pet rock, new coke, Lady Gaga.
I feel bad for trivializing this fact, but I don't have long to live. So I only need to act like an endearing fool for a short while. The staying power of the Iliad and the Odyssey have nothing to worry about. It's just me and my brief flicker of inane thoughts, and impossible hopes of grandeur. Buy for now!
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