“NOT Love Poems For Real Life”—Officially Released into the Wild!

The “what the eff is wrong with me” train has just made another delivery.

This time around, the funny idea I had whilst in the shower has been converted into thirty poems of awkward hot messes, in “NOT Love Poems For Real Life”  (available in ebook format on Amazon for 99 cents; if you don’t have a Kindle, google “Kindle for PC or Mac,” it’s free). I initially envisioned fifty poems, but once I gassed up my editing chainsaw (whilst wearing a scary “Jason” mask and flannel), it was evident that I didn’t connect to some of the poems on a personal level. Not embarrassing enough, not revealing enough, and therefore a little bit flat.

And so, much to my chagrin, I put my reputation on the line in the name of art….yay.

To the people who know me, this collection is a fun little exercise in figuring out which poems are about whom…ohhh the scandal! After which I’ll confirm it’s about no one, since something so vague with so much fiction mixed in could never be proven as fact. Besides, the only person who should be hiding in a corner is me, ’cause nobody gets an ego beating in this publication like yours truly. But I’m not exactly the hide-in-the-corner type.

To the people who DON’T know me, this collection is vindication, for every real and epic poet who forgot about the not-so-epic experiences; all the frogs you had to kiss, all the times you were someone else’s frog bitch, you know, the mistake that made him/her run to someone else (hooray!…umm). The teenage pursuits, the hot men in suits, the constant rejection, the creepy-ass stalkers…where are OUR stanzas?!

Right here.

Back to putting my reputation on the line, this isn’t a publication with a frame of reference; this can’t be compared to Twilight or Harry Potter or actually to any other “something” in existence, and that equals risk. “Shocked, appalled and offended” will probably happen as reactions. It was simply one of those things I had to do, before my brain would let me work on something else. I guess I just couldn’t face the thought of line-editing a book about finding love and blah, blah (i.e. Year of the Chick—which is not “blah”, I assure you!) before wrestling with some issues and being a little reckless. I guess it’s a side-project, like when Britney Spears tried out acting in the movie Crossroads. I have no further comment on that cinematic effort.

And so, if you read my blog and nothing I’ve said has offended you up until now, download away and have fun!

If you’re anybody else, I offer you this disclaimer:  This work is not intended for young audiences, due to strong language and mature themes. These mature themes include: sexy time, rejection, humiliation, and the fear of dying alone.

That will be all for today, and as a final note: if you read my work and like it, I encourage you to interact in the following ways, each of which assists “independents” like me; thanks!
Facebook Author Page
Twitter Page
A review on Amazon or Goodreads

Coming up next month…the one that started it all: based on the blog of the same name, one woman’s quest to find love in a year, all to avoid arranged marriage (cue dramatic music)…Year of the Chick! (I was trying to make that sound like a movie trailer, but it would’ve been more compelling if it randomly mentioned an epidemic, natural disaster or zombie attack…)

THE BOOK OF AWFUL. I wrote it. You can buy it. If you want.

Once upon a time it was Summer 2010 and I was sad.

My heart was a pile of glass shards, on the metaphorical linoleum floor of life.

Then a truck full of teddy bears and rainbows ran it over.

It was the bestselling “The Book of Awesome” by Neil Pasricha, and it was trying to say that life is full of great little things. It told me that putting on underwear just out of the dryer, smelling gasoline, and popping bubble wrap was awesome.

None of these things seemed awesome to me, as the glass shards of my heart started slowly collecting dust on life’s linoleum floor.

Not only that, but how could the word awesome be applied to a thousand things? Can’t we come up with different adjectives? Why beat one word to death? As a writer, I was insulted.

Fueled by a glued-together damaged heart and vocabulary-driven revenge, I spent the next ten months writing and completing “The Book of Awful”.

I finished it a month before “The Book of Even More Awesome””s release, just the right time for me, the underdog, to metaphorically pee in front of the metaphorical fire hydrant of bestselling royalty. Or something.

And then a funny thing happened.

I realized it takes about a trillion years for a book to find the reader’s hands, in the traditional and ever-slow-to-adapt publishing model.  Still…I thought, let’s see how it goes.

First I ditched my agent, partly because she’s never sold humor, but mostly because her idea of a parody was not what I had in mind (“focus it on celebrities”…umm no). Nice lady though, I wish her well.

Then I began the search for a literary agent who deals in humor.

From there I received the following:

-”This is just the kind of quirky stuff I like!…But I don’t think it will sell.”

-”Humorous essays are a tough sell.”

-”You don’t have a platform.” (I think this one was trying to tell me I’m not a celebrity…)

-And then…on the plus side, four requests to read the book!

Three of those requests are still in progress, but here’s the startling climax of the story:

-I said “fuck it”, and I published the book myself.

Believe me,  I did my research, which is precisely how I got to this point. Self-published ebooks are making up more and more book sales by the day (despite what The New York Times Bestseller List would have you believe), and it actually fits my rebellious mission to a tee.

Why?

Because just as I don’t like others deciding what is awesome, I don’t like publishers deciding what potential readers should have access to and taking FOREVER to do it, whilst a timely parody risks losing relevance to the very readers it was intended for. If 0.01% of writers get published via the traditional model that’s GREAT, I applaud them, it was my own dream too, after all. But what happens to the other 99.99% of writers? Are they shitty writers? Maybe many of them are, but not all…yet their completed stories gather dust on their personal hard drives (not on the metaphorical hard drives of life, but on actual computer hard drives).

This is wrong.

Let the people decide what they’d like to read, and let them save money too, which is easy when you strip out the middle men.

And so, as part of my rebel alliance, my book is $2.99 and you can buy it because I’m selling it.

The most important aspect of my rebel alliance is the content of the book itself:

-I don’t tell readers how to get happy, but I describe one potentially horrific scenario after the next (i.e. Santa Claus being real, turning into a vampire, bacon running out, etc.), to remind them that they’re safe. It’s being grateful via negative reinforcement, and as close to “happy” as we get in this modern world, if we all stop lying to ourselves.

In the end, every sale I make is one step closer to “stickin’ it to da man.” And so, if you like the idea of sticking things inside a metaphorical man, go ahead and buy my book.

THANKS!

[This is the link to my book on Amazon Kindle US. You can also buy it on Amazon UK, Amazon DE, and other ereaders everywhere (it should be live on these other devices within a few days).  There is ALSO a free Kindle app for your iPhone or Android, to all my friends who think they can get away with being technologically challenged.  (psst, for those of you who don't have a smart phone, I continue to reject your excuses, 'cause you can easily download Kindle for your PC or your Mac! Ha.]

PS: If you get a chance to read it please leave a review on Amazon, it’s your way to entice (or warn) others!

PPS: I’ve linked to both the “Book of Awesome” and its sequel in this blog post. I’ve done this because I’m not ashamed if readers prefer the “happy” stuff, and so I want to help you find it, as soon as you possibly can!!! It’s a free world after all. Whatever, you goodie-goodies…

PPPS: free samples are as good for food as they are for writing, and since I’ve posted actual entries from the book on my blog before (under the guise of a different title…product testing, if you will)…here you go!

If body pillows didn’t exist

If Facebook was cancelled

If there wasn’t any snow