Monday, September 8, 2014


I know this seems like a strange way to start a week of self-promotion. The title of this piece isn't even truthful. I really do want you to buy STRIP. But I've ceased giving a fuck. I've been having problems with this one. A lot of them. The reason I can't bring myself to care anymore is simple. The straw that broke the camel's back?

STRIP was supposed to be a Kindle giveaway today through Thursday, and the publisher gives so little a fuck about my book that they ignored my submission form, even though I sent it in twice. I don't know why they wouldn't approve it. It's not like this book is selling, anyway. We might as well give it away for free. Who knows? Maybe a few people like it so much they leave positive reviews. Maybe in the future, when the book isn't free anymore, someone will look at those positive reviews and decide to buy the fuckin' thing.

But that's too much work, I guess. So fuck it. They no longer care about my book? I no longer care about my book. It's not even a good fit with the rest of my body of popular work. Most of you come to me through my horror or bizarro work. How many of those people would want to read a crime novel from me? Granted, it's a hypersexed, ultraviolent crime book. It's incredibly offensive. It's so crazy there's a parental warning on the first page. But it's still a crime book.

So yeah. Who gives a fuck? Eventually, I'll do a print run which, according to my contract, I can't even sell. I can only give 'em away. But maybe if I gave away a physical copy, someone might read it. Anyone. At the very least, someone will use it as a beer coaster or to level out a coffee table. That way, it will come in handy. It will be used. Anything's better than a waste of space, which I guess it is right now.

Fuck it. Rant over. If you really want to buy it, you can do so here. I'd appreciate it if you do, but if you don't? I don't give a fuck.

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