Tag Archives: selfpublishing

#31ZombieAuthors Begins October 1!

Hey 3.5 readers,shutterstock_142239163 copy

I’ve been working harder than a zombie chasing after a truck load of brains this past month.  It’s gone by so fast and I can’t believe thirty one people all came together so quickly to help me out.

This is going to be great.

So I don’t have much for you today as I’m still working on this project.

Whatever promotional support you can provide would be awesome.  Please feel free to blog about this or share the news on your favorite social media/time wasting website.

Don’t forget, you can find me here, on bookshelfbattle.com

On Twitter – @bookshelfbattle

On Google +

On Facebook – Please drop by my Facebook page!  I’ve been putting more of an effort lately into building it up.  My fanbase there is sort of non-existent at the moment.

On Wattpad – Note I will be sharing BQB’s Survivor’s Journal on Wattpad (though entries will appear here on the blog first) but you will have to read the blog for the interviews.

What a fabulous online community of writers we have that so many people were willing to help a nerd in need.

Mark your calendars.  Tell your friends.  Pop your pop corn and hold onto your brains.

October is going to be one fun month.

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The Writer’s Battle – What Can We Learn From Pizza Rat?

Holy Crap.  Will you 3.5 readers drop what you’re doing and look at this little jerk?

This rat has got to be the last true believer of the American Dream, let me tell you.

Look at him!

Other rats see a slice of pizza.  Maybe they’ll take a bite.  Maybe they’ll push it a little, get tired, and scurry away.

But here this little schmuck is, carrying this piece of pizza (WHICH IS BIGGER THAN HE IS) down a flight of stairs, one step at a time, presumably in an attempt to cart it off to his rat lair to feed his rat wife and rat children.

God bless you, Pizza Rat.  You’ve made me believe again.  Shit, let’s elect this rat president.

What can writers learn from Pizza Rat?

  • Writing is hard work.  It’s one thing to think about doing it, but only determination and sheer will gets it done.
  • When others shrug their shoulders and give up, you get in there and get that pizza!  Other people give up on writing all the time.  By keeping at it, you’re doing better than all the other writers, just like this rat did better than all the other rats.  You see any other rats out there becoming a viral video star?  I think not.
  • Success comes one step at a time.  Get the pizza slice down one step.  Then another step.  Then another one.  Don’t skip steps. This furry little contagion infested dynamo look at the stairs and cry, “Oh my God!  Too many steps!  I give up!”  No, damn it, he took his slice down one step at a time.  Unfortunately, the video cut short and it does appear like he abandoned his slice at one point, but I like to think that he got nervous around the humans and went back for his dinner once the coast was clear.
  • The same thing goes for your writing.  You start your blog.  You think, “Oh my God!  That other blog has thousands of readers!  I only have 3.5!  SO WHAT?  You get in there and you entertain the ever loving shit out of your adoring 3.5 readers, just as I do every day.  I’ve dragged my pizza/blog down the 3.5 readers step.  One day I’ll drag it down the 100 readers step.  Then the 200 readers step.  Before you know it I’ll be back at my rat lair, chomping on my pizza, or rather, enjoying an audience of a thousand readers.
  • Apply the Pizza Rat model to your daily word count.  Don’t be like one of those lazy ass rats who looks at a pizza, shouts, “Too big!  No thanks!” and scurry off with an empty belly.  Don’t look at your computer screen and go, “A hundred thousand words!  I’ll never type that much!  I’ll just give up on my dream!”  No.  Be like Pizza Rat.  Type a few words today.  A few more tomorrow.  After awhile, you’ll have one delicious novel.

Patience.  Determination.  Guts.  Glory.  Be strong enough to do the work others are too weak to even try.

God damn it, Pizza Rat, if I were a hot she-rat I’d be so turned on I’d have a million of your pizza rat babies and send them out to spread the plague all over the five boroughs.

So remember, 3.5 readers/aspiring writers, today, your writing career might make you feel like a tiny rat and success will appear as far away as the bottom of a long ass stairwell.  But go slow, take it one step at a time, and before you know it, you’ll be feasting on cheesy, gooey success.

Pizza Rat 4-Eva!

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Amazon’s $50 Tablet

Amazon has released a $50 tablet.

They’re so cheap you can buy a 5-pack for $250.

Use them as stocking stuffers.  Hell, leave one by your bed, one in your car, one at the office, one on your kitchen table, toss them all over and you won’t be without a tablet next time you need one.

Does your kid keep bugging you for your tablet?  Give them this one so they won’t get their greasy fingers all over yours.

Are they any good?  God I hope not or else I overspent on my last tablet.

What’s Amazon up to?  Assumably, they want to get their products into the hands of as many people as possible and are reaching into the market of folks who normally couldn’t afford a tablet…which is a good thing.

That or perhaps with Apple and Samsung tearing up the tablet market, perhaps they might think “$50 bucks could convince an Apple user to try us out.”

And they’re right.  I’ve been curious about Kindle, but not enough to abandon my iPad.  $50 might convince me to check it out.

What will it mean for us aspiring scribes?  More people with tablets=more readers?

More readers for other people.  I only have 3.5.

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The Writer’s Battle: How Many Books Should an Author Write Per Year?

Hey 3.5 readers.shutterstock_197378663 copy

So the fracas all began with this article in the Huffington Post.

Lorraine Devon Wilke argues, “Dear Self-Published Author: Do NOT Write Four Books a Year.”

At the outset, the premise reeks of establishment anti-self publishing flair, doesn’t it?

But in Wilke’s defense, she writes:

Unless they’re four gorgeously written, painstakingly molded, amazingly rendered and undeniably memorable books. If you can pull off four of those a year, more power to you. But most can’t. I’d go so far as to say no one can, the qualifier being good books.

I don’t want to stick words into someone’s mouth but the message I carried away was, “Don’t write four books a year unless you can put out four good books.”

That’s fair.

Further, she has self-published so I can’t accuse her of being an agent of “The Man” i.e. traditional publishing.

Wilke noted recent Pulitizer Prize winners who spent a great many years on their masterpieces.  Donna Tartt, for example, spent eleven years on The Goldfinch while Anthony Doerr took years to craft his tale.

It’s about quality over catalogue, and Doerr only had four books to his credit before his prize winner, while Harper Lee only put out one book, To Kill a Mockingbird.

Larry Correia, author of the Monster Hunter series of books (and a dude who got his start in self publishing) had this to say on his blog, Monster Hunter Nation:

If it takes you ten years to write a book—which doesn’t win the biggest most famous award in all of literature—and you make $15,000 (I’m being generous), that means you made $1,500 for each YEAR of labor. Let’s say all that diligent proofing, unhurried imagining, and turd polishing only took up 500 hours a year. Congratulations. You would have made more money waiting tables at Applebees… before tips.

I don’t know about you guys, but A. I can’t bank on getting a major motion picture staring Gregory Peck and become mandatory reading for all high school students. B. I’m probably not ever going to win a Pulitzer Prize. And C. I like making a hundred bucks an hour a lot more than I like making $3 an hour.

NOTE:  If you read Larry’s entire response, you’ll see he is in no way bashing Tartt or Doerr and he gives them due credit for publishing high quality award worthy works.

His point is that those authors’ experiences are atypical.  As an aspiring author, the likelihood of you winning a prestigious award is small.

I don’t want to put words in Larry’s mouth either but the message I took was that one can spend years on one book for the small, unlikely chance of winning a prestigious award, or one could publish more books and earn more compensation.

WHAT SAY YOU, BQB?

Here’s how all this applies to your favorite nerd, 3.5 readers.

I’m not old.

But I’m not young either.

Over the years, I’ve discovered the following to be unassailably true:

Life does not give a shit about your plans.

Disaster does not wait until you’re ready.  Chaos does not take a powder until you’ve completed a goal.

Shit happens with a vengeance.  I know because I’ve been there.

I know what it’s like to be plugging away on a dream only to receive bad news one day and all of a sudden, said dream becomes deferred.

I have dreams of being a writer.

But I am also a human being with basic needs like food, water, clothes, shelter, utilities etc.

So I need to work a day job.

Then at night and on the weekend, I have to perform a variety of life sustaining activities.  Chores if you will.

I have to maintain my humble BQB HQ.  I need to iron my pants.

And damn it, someone needs to take Bookshelf Q. Battledog for a walk.

So after all that’s done, there’s not a lot of time to write.

I try to make up for it.  I stay up later.  Get up earlier.

Given such a schedule, I could probably put out one or two books a year.

I don’t know.  I haven’t tried it yet.

Here’s what I’m getting at:

Money is nothing to sneeze at, avoid, or to be treated as bad when it comes to publishing.

Sorry, but it’s true.

As a man who’s been browbeaten repeatedly by life, I know that the next ass kicking life has in store for me is just around the corner.

What could it be?  I hate to think about it.

What I know is that whatever said disaster is, I’ll keep working because the need to sustain life isn’t going away.

THEREFORE – If I can find a way to make enough money from writing so as to be able to turn writing into my day job, then I know the next disaster life throws my way will not stop me from writing because writing is my job.

BUT – I am at the point where I realize if life tosses me a disaster before I’ve gotten a writing career off the ground, then that’s that.  I’ll keep working.  I’ll come home.  Deal with whatever the disaster is in my spare time and then that will be life.

ERGO – I don’t have eleven years.  Sorry life, I don’t trust you.  I know at some point in the next eleven years, you’re going to deliver me a whopper, some problem I’ll have to face while continuing to work and earn a living.

We all have our own thresholds.  Personally, I can probably sustain this for five years without a profit but shit, if 2020 rolls around and I’ve yet to see dollar one, I’m going to start taking it easier and watch some more TV and play some more video games in my spare time.

CONCLUSIONS

The confusing part for me is I don’t think either writer said anything wrong.

Wilkes basically said don’t write four books a year…unless you can.  So if you can, go for it.  Many people can’t.

Larry’s saying your number one goal needs to be to get paid, but if you read on in his article, he notes clearly you can’t sacrifice quality.  Putting out a crap novel will irk your audience and therefore take away from your profits.

What say me, BQB?  People shouldn’t judge a book by the amount of time that was spent on it.  That’s not to say don’t applaud a writer who dared to hold onto a dream for 11 years and see it through to amazing results.

But on the other hand, if someone is so talented they were able to churn out a decent novel in a relatively short amount of time, there’s no need to discredit said individual either.

Further, we often talk about “how many years” but we don’t talk about hour counts.

Bookshelf Q. Battledog

Bookshelf Q. Battledog

Someone who writes full time for a living i.e. who wakes up, puts on the coffee, then clacks on the keys until the end of the day, could probably, in theory, put out more books in a year than say, a jerk face like me who’s trying to squeeze in some time to write between work, mowing the lawn, ironing my pants and walking my killer attack papillon.

Say I put one hour a day into a novel for 365 days?

Meanwhile, the established professional writer puts in a standard 40 hour work week, and after 9 weeks (and roughly 365 hours), has completed a comparable novel.

Does that mean I care more because “my novel took a year” while the other guy’s took “nine weeks?”

Thus, I guess in my typical BQB happy go lucky manner, I’ll say both authors are right.

What you can turn out in a year is a matter of a) your talent b) your situation in life c) your ability to be honest with yourself and determine whether or not your product is ready to go or crap that needs more work and therefore more time.  For that, you’re going to need professional help.  (An editor, not a shrink, though a little time on the black couch never hurt anyone.)

In short, if you’ve got the talent, don’t hold yourself back.  On the other hand, if you put out crap, your readers will run.  Only you (and your professional writing help i.e. editor) can determine whether your work’s good to go or if it needs more time in the oven.

All I know is I need to get my writing career off the ground before life delivers me that crushing blow that convinces me to say, “F it.  Bring me my Cheetos, it’s time to watch TV.  Writing, schmiting.”

What say you, 3.5?

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Why I Hope You’ll Check Out #31ZombieAuthors (Even If You Don’t Like Zombies)

This will be me in October. And I'll still take a break for zombie author interviews!

This will be me in October. And I’ll still take a break for zombie author interviews!

First off, if you do like zombies, you’re in for one hell of a ride come October.

I’m holding off on the full list of participating authors, but so many great writers have agreed to participate.

As you can imagine, for a guy who writes a blog under the name “Bookshelf Q. Battler” and claims to a) own a magic bookshelf and b) be friends with an alien, that’s very humbling.

There’s a fabulous online community of scribes and more often than not, help is usually just a polite question away.

So even if you have no interest in the zombie genre, I hope you’ll stop by anyway.

Why?  Because I’ll be interviewing thirty-one authors who have successfully published and put their works out to the masses.

Maybe you prefer comedy, or romance, or some other genre.  Even so, if you’re an aspiring writer, and I know a lot of you out there are, you’ll pick up some know-how from folks who have achieved what so far many of us have only dreamed of.

And hopefully, you’ll have some laughs along the way because of the unique way this interview series is being presented.

Every day, BQB (that’s me) will update his “Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal.”  East Randomtown will be overrun by the undead, and it’s up to  BQB, Alien Jones, and Video Game Rack Fighter to save the day.

And once a day, our hero will take a break from the action to “call” a writer on Alien Jones’ space phone.

In a zombie-fied world where phone service is down, only a plutonium powered alien communications device will do.

How can you help?

3.5 readers, this year has been all about building a blog audience.  One post a day for 365 days.  Next year, I need to turn my focus to writing books of my own.

I love writing and don’t worry, that doesn’t mean I’m abandoning the blog next year, though I believe I will have to slow down the pace.

But as much I love writing, I have to admit, in the long run, with all that the world tends to throw at us, writing is generally difficult to sustain unless it’s bringing in money.

Have you seen Field of Dreams? 

“If you build it, they will come.”

This blog is my dream.  A platform on which to build a writing career.  I’m building it and I need people to come.

So this effort represents one last great big push to raise this blog’s stats, followers, hits, and corresponding Twitter, Google Plus etc followers.

All fine folks who liked something they saw here enough to click the follow button and hopefully one day I’ll be able to convince you all to invest in the BQB brand by buying a BQB novel.

Once I get it written, of course.

Not to beg, but if you could do anything to help, that’d be great.

Tell your readers about it.  Heck, share the shenanigans of Schecky Blargfeld, Zombie Comedian, on your favorite time wasting social media outlet.

Want an interview with Bookshelf Q. Battler?  You got it.  My 3.5 readers are your 3.5 readers.

Most importantly, all of these authors have been so generous with their time, that anything you could do to spread the word about them would be greatly appreciated.

Thanks for all your help, 3.5.  This has been the most work I’ve put in to this blog all year, and I am keeping my fingers crossed that it will pay off.

 

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Schecky Blargfeld, Zombie Comedian

A preview of an act coming to the East Randomtown Chuckle Hut in October…

Schecky Blargfeld, Zombie Comedian

Schecky Blargfeld, Zombie Comedian

ANNOUNCER:

Hey there, Ladies, Germs and anyone who hasn’t either been ripped to shreds or turned into a ghastly brain sucking monster, put whatever body parts you have left together and give a room temperature welcome to Schecky Blargfeld, Zombie Comedian!

SCHECKY:

Oh stop, stop!  You’re far too kind!

No seriously, sir.  Stop.  You need to keep your hand on your spleen.  That’s it.  You got it.

I just shuffled in from LA and boy are my arms tired from being held out directly in front of me as I trudged all the way here in a slow yet methodic manner.

East Randomtown.  Wow.  Talk about the sticks.  Last time I was in a place this small it was my casket!  Whoa!

Is this thing on?  No, I’m asking.  Is this thing on?  Because it looks a little loose and…aw crap.  It fell off.  Oh well.  Who needs it?

Ladies!  Where are all my beautiful ladies tonight?  Fellas, women be shopping, am I right?  Even in a zombie apocalypse, they’re all like, “Does this gas mask match this machete?”  Ladies, please, stop torturing yourselves about your looks.  Real men want your brains.  Your sweet, delicious, yummy brains.

Lot of stuff going on in the news lately.  Apple released a new iPhone last year, changed it a little bit, and now they’ve got a slightly better version for sale this year.  And yet, somehow I’M the vicious monster.  Oh no he did-ent!  Yes he did!

Say folks, I see I’m about to get the bum’s rush here.  Seriously, a bunch of bums just broke in and are about to hack me to pieces.

I just want to say I look forward to being a part of the #31ZombieAuthors deal that Bookshelf Q. Battler’s got going on this blog.  Did somebody say 3.5 readers?  Jeez Louise, I’ve seen backs of cereal boxes with larger fan bases.

This October, the shit is really going to hit the fan in East Randomtown.  BQB’s going to bring you daily excerpts from his Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal, as well as daily interviews with renowned authors of zombie fiction.

BQB’s a top notch interviewer, let me tell you, because he’s going to pick the brains of these fine horror scribes and find out what makes them tick.  Personally, that’s not something I’d ever do because I don’t play with my food.

What about me?  Every Sunday, I’ll bring you weekly wrap-ups right here from the Chuckle Hut, East Randomtown’s Number One (and only) Stand-Up Comedy Lounge.

So mark your calendars, tell your friends, get ready to laugh, and don’t forget to tip your waitresses.  No seriously, use a spear tip because they’ve all been turned into horrible, flesh hungry zombies.

Thanks a lot.  I’ve been Schecky Blargfeld.  Stay fabulous and better yet, stay delicious.

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The Writer’s Battle: Self Publishing and Why I Miss The Man

Hello 3.5 Readers.

Yeah I know

Yeah I know “The Man” looks like Informant Zero. Shutterstock ‘aint cheap, nerds.

Ahh, my younger days.  That magical, pre-techno revolution time when I was able to blame my lack of a writing career on a mysterious, mythical, “man” or “The Man” as I called him.

Have you ever heard of “The Man?”  He’s everywhere, you know.  No one knows who he is or what he looks like, but everyone who isn’t where they want to be is certain this rapscallion is standing in the way.

Yes, 3.5, back when self-publishing meant you took the scribbles you made on a legal pad and sent them through the photocopying machine, I was able to sit back and blame my failure to become a published author on The Man:

BQB 1.0 (Before Self-Publishing)

Well, I might as well not waste my time writing because it’s not like The Man is going to allow anyone as sophisticated and subversive as I am to get published!  Pass the Dorito bag and get me my video game controller!

I don’t know who I was bossing around there. My entire life,  I’ve never known anyone willing to fetch me snacks or video game implements.  Sad really.

In other words, I felt better.  It wasn’t my fault.  It was The Man’s fault.

You youngsters might find that difficult to believe but keep in mind this was all in the days before social media, back when if you took a picture of your lunch and walked around showing it to everyone, they’d all call you an asshole.

Where are you, The Man?

Oh how I miss you, now that the self-publishing revolution is here.

Without my precious scapegoat, here’s what I go through now:

BQB 2.0 – Post Self-Publishing

I’m tired and I miss my precious video games but now I must attempt to follow my longstanding dream to become a published author now that The Man has been overthrown by technology!

Without The Man to blame, I have to come to terms on all the reasons why I blame myself for my lack of writing success:

REASON #1 – I’m Not Good Enough

That will enter my brain from time to time, then I’ll see a scene on TV that will inspire me to persevere.

CASE IN POINT:  On Game of Thrones, Tyrion was kidnapped by slaver traders who threatened to sell his dwarf appendage to a dwarf appendage merchant because in Westeros, dwarf appendages are thought to bring good luck.

MY RESPONSE:  Where’s my laptop?  George RR that sea captain hat wearing SOB is making a mint off this shit. Surely, I can come up with something half as witty as lucky dwarf appendages and at least make a little beer money.

Oh The Man.  How I miss you.  You used to keep this thought at bay:

REASON #2 – There Isn’t Enough Time

There is and there isn’t.  If you want to work all day and then come home and work all night, then yes, you’ll find time to write a novel.  It’s up to you if you want to work all day AND night and not do something crazy like sniff some fresh air, take a walk, or go to the bathroom.

The Man used to make me feel better on wasting all that precious writing time in the bathroom.  Now I just sit there on the bowl, cursing myself for losing those few precious moments of productivity that could have been spent writing.

Where have you gone, The Man?  Where have you gone?  I need you back:

REASON #3 – There’s No Assistance Available

CORRECTION:  There used to be no assistance available.  Now, thanks to self-publishing, there’s a whole cottage industry of editors and cover artists waiting to help you if you’re willing to invest in them.

Time was The Man stood between folks like that and myself.  Now they’re easy to find and their help is readily available.

Come back, The Man!

REASON #4 – I’m Not One of the Beautiful People

BACK THEN:  I’ll never get a book out because I have the looks and charm of a cactus and only certain well bred classy people get books published.

TODAY:  Underdogs are tearing it up in the self-publishing industry and everyone cheers for them.

Oh The Man.  How I miss you.  I was able to blame you for my failures, but now, thanks to self-publishing, the only man I can blame when my book isn’t out there is myself.

RIP

THE MAN

The Beginning of Time – The Past Few Years, Give or Take

Yes, I’m being facetious.  Yes, I realize even if my stuff never gains an audience wider than 3.5 readers, the time I spend writing is still better spent than being transfixed to TV (even though, holy shit, it’s better now than it ever was, let me tell you.)

I recognize what miraculous times we live in that whether your book is a blockbuster or a dud, at least the tech is available to allow you to say, “I GAVE IT A TRY” and check “WRITE A BOOK” off your bucket list.

I’m not “old” but I’m getting older and as the years move on, I realize:

  • I’m probably not going to be playing for the NFL.
  • The fine scientists at NASA might not recruit me as an astronaut as my younger self once assumed they would.
  • Katee Sackhoff, or a reasonable facsimile thereof, isn’t going to marry me.  (Don’t tell Video Game Rack Fighter I said that.)
  • I’m not going to be president, which really, is more of a detriment to the country than to me, what with my proposed, “Let’s everyone stop playing grabass and get down to some serious shit here!” initiative.

But while pro-football, intergalactic space travel, Katee Sackhoff, and the Oval Office are all dreams that are fading fast, I am pleased to say that “publishing a book” is a dream of mine that is more realistic and plausible today than it ever was when I was a kid, thanks to the marvels of technology.

Shit.  I’d better get a book out there before The Man figures out a way to shut this self-publishing thing down.

Back off, The Man!

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#31ZombieAuthors/BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal – A Preview

Without delving too far into spoilers, here are some highlights/plot points to look forward to:

#31ZombieAuthors - Oct 1-31 on the Bookshelf Battle Blog

#31ZombieAuthors – Oct 1-31 on the Bookshelf Battle Blog

  • Bookshelf Q. Battler, his girlfriend, Video Game Rack Fighter, and an incognito Alien Jones (posing as the couple’s deformed child) visit the East Randomtown Mall to observe a demonstration of Dr. Hugo Von Science’s latest invention, the Reality TV star transmogrifier, billed as the solution to turning people who are famous for doing nothing into productive members of society.
  • The experiment goes wrong, the stars are zombified, and BQB, VGRF, AJ and BQB’s old friend, Bernie Plotznick, become trapped in the mall.
  • BQB’s 3.5 readers will recognize Bernie as MC Plotznick.  In the late 90’s/early 2000’s Bernie and BQB were a duo of wholesome rappers dubbed “The Funky Hunks” whose raps only included positive advice, like looking both ways before crossing the street and recycling.  Naturally, they were miserable failures in the rap game.  BQB has moved on.  Bernie clings to the past, yearning for a Funky Hunk resurgence.
  • Other Bookshelf Battle Blog semi-regular characters, Aunt Gertie (BQB’s Aunt) and Blandie Settler (BQB’s ex-girlfriend) require our hero’s assistance.  Will BQB come to their rescue in time?  Will VGRF be cool with her man saving an ex?
  • Amongst East Randomtown residents, there is a rivalry as to who should be considered the town’s most famous citizen.  Some claim it is Doug Hauser, who once, during the 1980’s, appeared as an extra for 30 seconds on a cop drama TV show in which he played a drug dealer who had the crap beaten out of him.  Others claim the title goes to Bookshelf Q. Battler, who has brought glory to an otherwise unknown burg by building a WordPress blog that attracts 3.5 readers.
  • Naturally, Doug and BQB, due to their relative fame amongst the East Randomtown citizenry, will be looked to for leadership.  Will they be able to set aside their differences in order to govern justly in the wake of a leadership vacuum or will the rivalry consume them?
  • There is a slight amount of Pop Culture Mysteries crossover in that General Morganstern, a corrupt military leader, wants to use the zombie apocalypse as an excuse to blow up BQB in order to shut down the Bookshelf Battle Blog and effectively silence Jake from revealing the details of a top secret mission.
  • And if that’s not enough pressure, the Mighty Potentate aka Alien Jones’ boss, as the 3.5 are aware, has long held that BQB is the chosen one, i.e. a writer who will one day write a book so expertly crafted that it will inspire the masses to drop all interest in reality television altogether, thus preventing a form of programming hated by the MP from spreading throughout the universe.
  • Ergo, the Mighty Potentate informs Alien Jones that should BQB become zombie chow, he will dispatch a legion of alien shock troops to conquer Earth for the sole purpose of banning reality TV.
  • And also Alien Jones will be vaporized.

HOW IT ALL WORKS

  • Every day in October, BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal will explain what BQB and Co. are up to on said day.
  • Though the zombie apocalypse causes massive power failure and phone service disruptions, Alien Jones is the proud owner of a space phone.  Powered by plutonium and able to contact anyone anywhere in the universe with said device, BQB will take a break from the action once a day to contact and interview a different zombie author.
  • Not to toot my own horn, but a number of zombie authors involved, individuals far more published and experienced than I, have informed this nerd that they find the whole idea fun and hilarious.
  • Even if zombies aren’t your thing, writers and self-publishers will want to stop by anyway, as the zombie authors, in addition to advising BQB on how to survive a zombie apocalypse, will also share about their writing process, publishing tips, etc.

I hope you’ll all join me Oct 1 and follow the zombie mayhem every day throughout October 31.

Any help you could provide in promo’ing this – on your blog, your favorite time wasting social media site, etc. would be appreciated.

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Pop Culture Mysteries: Case File #005 – Smeller vs. Denier – (Part 12)

PREVIOUSLY ON POP CULTURE MYSTERIES…

Part 1

AND NOW THE POP CULTURE MYSTERIES CONTINUE…

“Signor Hatcher,”  Bellavenuti said.  “I must protest the way you are treating us like criminals.  Your concern over your check is unfounded, no?”

“How do you figure, Signora?”

“Because all you need do is call the casino first thing in the morning and request they cancel the missing check and issue you a new one!”

“I could do that,”  I said.  “But suppose the crook beats me to the punch, cashes it, and runs away never shutterstock_239019796to be found again?  What then?  I fight some cockamamie international legal battle from my home in the states for the rest of my life?  Not a chance…especially…”

“Especially, what?”  Signora Bellavenuti said through her luscious lips.

“…when YOU DID IT!”

“BASTARDO!”  Signora Bellavenuti shouted as she stood up and slapped me across the face.

“Admit it!”  I said.  “Long before you started your own designer label, ‘Haus of Bellavenuti,’ you were a gorgeous fashion model who walked the runway with poise, precision, and grace.  Why, I bet you could put a book on your head and walk from here to Romania without it falling off once!”

“What are your implying?”

“Implying?  I’m saying!  You’re no klutz, Signora, and when you spilled that wine all over the best jacket I own, you did it so you could slip your nimble fingers into my pocket and grab my loot!”

“Best jacket?!  Patooie!  I spit on your best jacket!  If that is your best jacket then you are no better than the beggar who pleads for the scraps that I throw away!”

With that, the Signora removed her stole, unzipped the back of her dress, and allowed it to fall to the ground.

There she stood in a black bra and panties.

“Oggle all you wish, pervert!  I do not need your money, you fool! I can buy and sell a horde of you!”

I gave her voluptuous form the old once over with my peepers.  I didn’t want to but I had no choice.  I was a detective.  I had to do what I had to do.

“My apologies, Signora,”  I said.  “I can now rule you out as well.”

“I should rule out your face!”

Professor Fremont’s head was pointed at me, but his lazy eye was aimed at the Signora’s form.  The ex-model wacked him upside the head.

“Stop gawking at me you deviant!”

“I can’t help it!”

“Can’t you, Professor?”  I asked.

“I really can’t,”  Professor said.  “My eye is permanently stuck toward the right.”

“And yet, you made sure you positioned yourself in a seat that allowed that eye to point at the Signora all evening.  You’re attracted to her aren’t you?”

“She’s quite fetching.”

“You’re madly in love with her!  You’ve been following her around all night, trying to impress her with superficial philosophical observations completely devoid of any real meaning.”

“He has!”  the Signora said.

“What we do and why we do it are two separate agendas,”  the Professor said.  “When it comes to a man’s motivations, the Id, Ego, and Superego all come into play.”

“Did you stink her out?”

“Excuse me?”

“The Signora!”  I said.  “She spurned your advances one too many times so you got your revenge by letting one rip in her general vicinity, didn’t you?  DIDN’T YOU?”

“I most certainly did not,”  the Professor said.  “Detective Hatcher, while tales of your investigatory prowess precede you, you have embarrassed yourself with this line of questioning.”

“How so?”

“Did you forget the part where I passed out?”

He got me.

“I’m afraid I did.”

“It’s an incontrovertible scientific fact that a man cannot be offended by his own expungements,”  the Professor said as if I were one of his students.

“That’s true,”  Yakubovich said.  “Some men even sit around and sniff their own stink as a reminder of their personal machismo.”

Everyone glared at Yakubovich.  He sunk down in his chair.

“So I have heard.”

“My body found the air to be so foul that it shut my entire system down to prevent me from breathing it in any further, thus saving my life,”  Fremont argued.

“Maybe you were faking,”  I said.

The Countess intervened on the Professor’s behalf.

“He wasn’t,”  my host said.  “I held the smelling salts under the Professor’s nose for quite some time.  I checked his pulse and it grew so slight I feared I would have to call for the undertaker.”

“You see?”  the Professor said.  “You can no sooner accuse me of being the olfactory offender than you could purport that Sir Isaac Newton caused his infamous apple to fall on his own head.”

I extended my hand.  The Professor shook it.

“You’re off the hook, nerd.”

“Of course I am,”  Fremont said.  “And while I have the floor, I must object to your investigatory methods.   You’ve engaged in plenty of speculation and conjecture, but only a scientific approach can draw the delinquent out into the open.”

“You’re right,”  I said.  “I’ve been in remiss.”

“Hatcher,”  the Count said.  “Perhaps you should analyze the diplomats’ motivations?”

“He who sniffed it, biffed it!”  Sir Rupert said.

“He who thwarted it, borted it!”

“Borted it?”  Rupert said.  “Bort isn’t even a word!”

“Oh, and biff is?”

“I could do that, Fabes,”  I said.  “But each man would simply accuse the other of cutting one as a precursor to global annihilation.  I’d get nowhere.  No, Professor Fremont is absolutely right.  If this case is to be put to bed, I must conduct a more thorough, rational inquiry.”

Copyright (c) 2015 Bookshelf Q. Battler.

All Rights Reserved.

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Pop Culture Mysteries – Smeller vs. Denier – The Story Thus Far

It’s intermission time, 3.5.  shutterstock_135572393

Grab some popcorn.  Go to the bathroom.

Wait, do that in reverse order.  There you go.  Much more sanitary.

Can I get some feedback as to what everyone thinks about Jake’s latest case file?

Hold your nose if you have to…

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Good, bad, indifferent, please let me know, especially if it’s bad.

Ask me questions, provide your comments, tear it up, rip it apart, tell me to quit writing, join a monastery, and never offend the world with my ramblings ever again, but whatever you think, please let me know.

By the way, if you’d prefer a reading method that’s a bit more conducive to a cell phone, tablet, whatever, I’ve been putting up the parts on wattpad as I go along.

If you’re a wattpadder, feel free to become one of my 3.5 wattpad readers.  The curse of only having 3.5 readers follows me everywhere, even across multiple social media platforms.

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