I’m about a week away from publishing my book. No, you haven’t missed any blogs; and no, you haven’t been cryogenically frozen, then thawed out to pursue Wesley Snipes through a utopian future and get a Nintendo Blow Job off an inexplicably hot Future Sandra Bullock. I’ve decided to self-publish.
What? Self-Publishing? Isn’t that just publishing for people who aren’t good enough to be published? Yes, yes it is. And, to make matters worse, I’m self publishing eBooks, for the Kindle. What? eBooks? Aren’t they just books for people who’re too lazy to turn pages? Yes, yes they are. Who’re? Isn’t that a contraction of ‘who are’ that looks like you’re saying ‘whore’? Yes, yes it is.
In fact, self-publishing is The Way To Go, at the moment, if you’re any cop at all. There’s nothing about selling your book on the Kindle that will prevent you from getting an agent or a publishing deal. On the contrary, showing them that it actually sells could never be a bad thing. For my American readers: yes, I did mean ‘policeman’. In the UK you have to qualify as a policeman (or Bobby) before you’re allowed to write popular fiction. It’s an old tradition that was started in 1853, by David Jones from The Monkees (RIP).
Self Publishing gives you the freedom to write in any genre, under any name, about whatever you like, with no interference from silly ‘Agents’ or ‘Editors’. Sure, nothing you write will actually sell, because you’re a fucking imbecile. But that’s all part of your charm. Yeah, your books will be rife with spelling mistakes and unchecked continuity errors, but you’re sticking it to The Man! Okay, you’ll end up bankrupt, homeless and licking the yoghurt off discarded Muller Lite lids that you find in the bins behind supermarkets, but at least you’ll have your integrity.
Integrity schmegrity. If you want to be critically acclaimed, you first have to get your book in someone’s hands. There are three ways to do that: Sit on your arse and wait to be discovered; self-publish and self-market, or The Third Way: suck an enormous amount of cocks. I’ve tried the other two, now all that’s left is self-publishing. Note to self: buy mouthwash.
The most important advantage you’ll have, by publishing eBooks yourself, is speed. By the time The Next Big Thing, like the Very Hungry Games or Fifty Shades Of RELENTLESS COCK ONSLAUGHT are on the shelves, the boat has already sailed for print. Any similar idea you have is old news. Not with ePublishing.
I myself have just finished a 350 page draft (I started it an hour ago) called ‘One Hundred Days Of Schmekel’. It’s an erotic journey into a world of Jewish Sex; tales of circumcised members, dancing into kosher vaginas, through holes in some of the most luxurious bedsheets in Long Island. Sure, it doesn’t have a plot; and yeah, it’s mainly me just randomly writing words like ‘turgid’, ‘reamed’ and ‘gash’, over and over again. But the cover looks like, totally erotic, in a subtle way. It’s a sort of close up on the detail of a man’s cuff links. They look like a woman’s nips!