So it's 630 AM. I am functioning off of five hours of sleep and I'll be going for a run as soon as I'm done with this blog post. At present I have two blog promos going on. One for this book. And one for this one. This post is about virgil.
I've already written a post here to about this but it seems to need resaying. This book has graphically and explicit accounts of rape and physical abuse. Ultimately it's supposed to be a story about how these things can change you, how the general public has misconception of these things, and how survival can come in forms beyond the garden variety norm.
I've read books like this. They make stop lists all the top. They almost never say this type of stuff is what in them. Like most books you just pick them up and you get what you get. This is why on most reviews there are always those people who say this book was not what they expected, followed by a good or bad review (for all genres not this particular type of book mentioned in post). Even erotica books don't come out and say they are oozing with sex. It's a read at your own risk kind of thing in the literary world. Still here I am questioning the genius of writing a blurb and not mentioning such things. I just did what everyone else both famous and not so famous does. And more than a few people mentioned that they've picked up books not knowing these things were in them and either had to put the book down or it didn't bother them enough to quit.
Is this a problem. Yeah. I almost feel like if I wrote a book about the abuse of a child from adolescence right on through to adulthood I'd be forced to not let the teens that it features read it. On the flip side I read more than my share of erotica when I was a teen so I know I wouldn't. I'm sitting here feeling like I've made a huge error even though there's precedent for my actions. But most importantly this book was supposed to be the one. The one to prove I had skills as a writer. The one to shut up all the haters and say fuck you i'm awesome. To push the levels of uncomfortable so far you felt compelled to keep reading even though you got more and more disturbed with each page.
Lots of people have done it. I didn't even question it when I did it. In fact I was secretly hoping it be so far out there it would get banned. I honestly believed I'd hit that point where people would be talking about my book for centuries to come. In fact it was the only book I wrote where I thought if I ever became famous none of my books would ever be like THIS one and I still believe that. Ultimately all those things only work for famous people or for people who are better at online networking.
The type of people who have friends who will write shitloads of reviews for them. With media whores as friends who will post and post and spam and spam all day everyday and not care if they offend anyone. I stalk myself all the time. Both my books have had well over 1000 views and rising. Salinor has sold around thirty-five and Virgil has just now finally hit double digits. The shame of it all is reading the reviews, three are good, there actually is a chance I did what I wanted. And one person I actually know in real life said it did. This person just loved it and said they could relate because they were, on the none abuse/friend side, and yeah it's frustrating to be in that place.
But ultimately this book won't get read. It takes a certain level of previous fame or a blatant fuck you I don't care if you like me attitude to pull of something this daring. And regardless of what my blog title says I'm just not that guy. I just updated Virgil with a disclaimer at the end, bumped my age limit to start at sixteen, the smashwords edition is in the adult section. Even though this book mostly entirely deals with YA characters. I'm just all over the place like I'm going to accidentally send a survivor back into therapy and fuck up their whole life again, but again I know I wouldn't be the first nor the lest to write such a heavy book and just take a read at your own risk stance and publish it.
So yeah. Instead of getting more confident i get more and more doubtful that this book will ever succeed. Four reviews after half a year. Salinor is at fourteen after two whole years. Indie authors have had books out for mere months and are shooting past fifty or more reviews and me. I'm struggling to get into double digits for both. I don't know what I'm doing wrong I just know that I have absolutely no faith in the one book I thought would be the one. Virgil. I have an add going for it. 100 dollars that I don't have. Another for Salinor. That's 200 hundred in hopes that an ad, and 99cent promo combo will yield me some results. Other authors sell loads when they do this. Me, well it's day three for Virgil, only three sold. It's day two for Salinor five have sold. I'm considering real hard, especially since my new book has been at 90 percent completion for two months and I haven't typed a thing. Just how much I want to be a writer. In total in the past few months I will have made just over thirty dollars on Salinor alone. And that was from the 100 spent. Virgil, shit still thousands of dollars in the hole, even more for Salinor because of the page count.
I'm not happy, I don't really have an ounce of faith in myself. And I guess this blog is a way of coming clean. Regardless of the fact that there is a glimmer of hope for Salinor, it's the third go round so I"m not pushing my hope button. And for Virgil, i have no faith none, and if you add up all the failures from my first five books, take that depression and compound it till it's flatter than flat and multiply it to infinity that's how depressed this makes me. And even though I am secretly hoping this post will sell books, I don't believe it will. Not one bit. In fact I'm still willing to dish out hundreds of both my books for free for a review. But whatever. Virgil will more than likely fail as so many people have told me. Why don't you write about different things. I"m so past the stage of hearing this I'm numb.
Violence, loads of triggers, uncomfortable sexual situations, the perfect recipe for disaster. That's what Virgil and my entire writing career is shaping up to be. At this point, I'm paying a mortgage now so I can no longer afford to edit, get good book covers, or promote, so if this end of year push fails, I"m sticking to my book review blog. I just can't and refuse to deal with emotional bullshit anymore, tired of crying in bathrooms, begging for shares. Speaking of shares a massive massive thank you to the people that do pimp me out every time i post. I LOVE YOU GUYS. shares are the only thing that bring me out of depression.
And yeah i'm stopping now. I"m going to enjoy my holiday, stop thinking about what I could've bought with my 200 dollars like part of a vacation or extra cash for the family condo, and just say fuck it to life. Done with letting this writing thing get me down and moving on. And just so you know. I totally missed my morning run. Not impressed. Not impressed at all. I'll be running tonight I refuse to let this writing shit continue to mess with my sanity and my health for another day.