CAN YOU CONVINCE ME TO DO SOMETHING I WAS GOING TO DO ANYWAY?
If I receive a sufficient number of internet, then I will do A Thing.
CAN YOU GIVE ME THE RIGHT KIND AND QUANTITY OF INTERNET?
The Thing is cool, and there is absolutely no way I am not going to Do It. I crave attention.
BUT PERHAPS IF I PRETEND I AM not GOING TO DO THE THING YOU WILL GIVE ME MORE INTERNET.
My demands are simple. Internet. Pile it up. On me. BURY ME IN INTERNET.
I wish to be the Caligula of Internet. Touch me with your web phallus and dance on this crazy ass boat I built. I will appoint my horse a senator. I will perform a play with my paramour as thousands starve in the street.
You need to give me Internet. Maybe then I’ll do the Thing I was Going to Do Anyway.
Please send Internet postmarked Me, attn: Me. Bring it to my house, knock on the door and run away.
Gasp! It’s happened. In preparation for the release of The Riddle Box, I am permanently reducing the first book down to .99 on Amazon for your shiny Kindle. I’m also going to be removing the Kindle exclusivity this summer, so Spell/Sword ebooks can be made available on Smashwords and iTunes. The paperback will remain available on Amazon, but can also be ordered through Barnes & Noble, or your local bookstore. I personally recommend Avid Bookshop if you live near Athens, GA – it’s my ‘home’ bookstore, and the paperback is the lowest cost on the planet there exclusively. I can also walk over and creepily watch you buy my book, if you’re into that.
Here are some quick links if you’re still on the fence now that I have reduced my brain-baby to a paltry dollar. One is to Goodreads, where there are a pretty wide-spread of reviews, one is to a mystery location that has nothing to do with my book at all.
The following is not for those who have a problem with foul language or musical theater.
I see you. I see you right now. Running your eyes over the bright, shiny art for our production of Oklahoma! – I can see your expression, the little twist too your lips, the ever-so-slight eye-roll. Oh, this show. It’s so hokey, so old-fashioned, so…cough cough…lame.
You feel supremely confident in this judgement. You take a sip of your fucking Cherry Sprite and go back to yawning your way through your John Green subreddit. It feels good, doesn’t it? Dismissing a faded old chestnut of a show, putting thing in their proper cultural context enlivens your nightly spank-session. The semen-encrusted sock of your aesthetic judgement is a treasured possession that you clasp tightly each night as a Velveteen Rabbit of Irony. It is so pleasant to completely judge and abandon a work of art without any effort or exposure, like knocking the bowl of broccoli casserole off your high-chair so you don’t have to taste it.
You are in a high chair because you are a baby. You are a baby in this metaphor. With a baby face and baby hands and baby drool going down your baby chin.
Well, I am here to tell you something. You are not cooler than this show. I know it is horrible to consider that you might enjoy spirited dancing, bright melodies, and broad humor. I know you think you’ve seen all this show has to offer because you saw a high school production 10 years ago. I know how easy and precious it is to slot this show into your ever growing pile of ‘Art I Don’t Have an Immediate Affinity For or Societal Pressure to Experience, So Why Bother When I Can Watch Netflix and Begin My Slow Descent Into Utter Cultural Stagnation’.
I’m assuming you read this far because you like musical theater. Pick a show, any show — trace the genealogy back and you’ll find Oklahoma! winking at you. Characters that reveal their emotions directly through song? Songs used to advance the plot? The synthesis of different styles of performance and dance in unexpected ways? Shivorees?
You may laugh in your cyclone of pretension and empty fucking souled rumination — but I tell you this show is beautiful. Silly, yes. Dated, yes. Kind of like Beethoven’s Ninth you miserable pustule of cynicism. The form, the shape, the stage language, the music, the movement of its internal pieces – it is something wonderful to behold, you jaded Ass McNugget. As long as human culture exists this piece of art will be performed – I suggest you find a way to open your mind a wee, tiny crack and experience it the way it should be. Live band, gifted performers, and no excuses.
Fuck. Just fucking…just fucking watch the goddamn show you incandescent shit-squeeze.
Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Oklahoma! Will be performed April 4th-13th at the Town&Gown Players in Athens, GA. Ticket information at the link above.
Sorry, I’ve been super quiet on the blog lately. Kefka isn’t going to defeat himself.
In the never-ending quest to get more copies of my book out there in the world, I’ve enrolled the book in Kindle’s new Matchbook service. This is where when you buy
the paperback copy, you can then get the Kindle version at a reduced rate. And because I am a benevolent and kind author/publisher I have made the Kindle version free when you purchase the paperback. This also means, if you’ve bought the Paperback version previously, you can login to Amazon and download the Kindle version for free RIGHT FREAKING NOW.
I still remain committed to the belief that people reading my books is FAR more important than people buying the book, so please don’t be shy. I’m also running another Free Download special of the book in November, if you have friends on the fence about giving the book a shot.
Well, the first draft anyway. I’m flabbergasted, exhausted, and other adjectives. I’ve written 62 pages in the past 11 days, and I freely admit there are some dodgy, dodgy bits in that last sprint to the end — but it’s all there. It’s a complete narrative, it works how I wanted it to, ends how i wanted it to. On Spell/Sword it took me longer to edit than to write, so I take comfort that I can take as long as I need to fix all of the fiddly bits. I’m tremendously proud of this one, I have no problem saying [believing] that this book is better than the first. I’m going to put in a drawer for a couple of weeks and let it cool down and come back fresh — I’m sure then I’ll be singing a different tune, but for now LOVE AND PEACE.
Here’s some crunchy numbers:
In published form: 52,000 words
The Riddle Box
Rough Draft: 65,000 words [21% longer!]
Started Writing: 4/26/2013
Finished Rough Draft: 9/24/2013
YEAH! Excited and a little exhausted. I’m going to unplug my brain and put it in a nice cool cup of yogurt for a while.
Look, you’re a smart person. I’ve just spent a whole week listing reasons why my book is going to be free, and why you should take a few seconds to download it for free this weekend. But I know none of that matters. You are a discerning individual, who makes decisions in their own time –in their own way.
So if this doesn’t convince you, The Seven Reasons My Book is Worthless:
Labor Day Weekend and some change. It coincides neatly with my trip to Atlanta for Dragon*Con — I’ll be wearing my Self-
Promotion Helm of Shamelessness +3. I’ve printed up a ton of business cards to give to people letting them know about the deal.
The ebook has always been free to Amazon Prime members, and DRM free to boot — but now I’m doubling down. Anyone and everyone can own my book at no cost other than the time it takes to download it. Even if you don’t own a Kindle, you’ll be able tor read it on your Mac, PC, iPad, smartphone, tablet, etc — via the free Kindle app.
I’m too busy learning lines to work on Riddle Box this week, I’m behind schedule and that sucks for me.
But it’s good for you — I’m talking to you, the Joe Abercrombies, Neil Gaimans, and Patrick Rothfussessess of the world.
I’m giving you a break – I’m slowing down my minotaur-octane fueled march to genre supremacy, for like two weeks or
something. You have some time without me BREATHING DOWN YOUR NECKS.
Use it wisely. Build the walls of your worlds tall and strong. Give your protagonists the most fiendishly devised magical weapons, backstories and clever sidekicks. DRAW A FANCY MAP OF YOUR BEAUTIFUL CITY WITH ITS RICH PAGEANT OF HISTORIC LORE SO I CAN KICK IT DOWN.
Because I’m coming. Me, Jonas, and Rime. And Sideways. And the pigs. And the magic chickens. And my rock and roll bard crooning on his ebony guitar, Lady Moon-Death.
WE ARE COMING. SWORDPUNK IS AT YOUR EXQUISITELY CHISELED AND WELL-WRITTEN GATES.