Hey 3.5 readers.
Please earn your keep around here and download a free copy of my books:
Hey 3.5 readers.
Please earn your keep around here and download a free copy of my books:
This will probably be hard to explain due to a lack of exact dates and keeping things anonymous but I’ll try.
When I was young I really wanted to be a writer. I got internships in that both summers and then in my last semester I had a really big internship where I spent a semester in a big city working as an intern for a big organization. Honestly, I was basically a coffee fetcher, but it was fun and I fetched coffee for some big names.
After college, I returend to Podunk and got a small writing job locally. There was a part of me that wanted to go back to the back city and pursue a life there as a writer. It didn’t seem far fetched. As a young person in my early 20s, I’d already gotten a lot of experience. The rents wanted me to pursue something more practical and while I don’t want to throw them under the bus for doing what parents do and I realize it was up to me follow through with what I wanted, I ultimately chose the practical.
Do I blame them? A bit. Do I blame myself the most? Of course. There comes a time in adult life where you have to realize your parents don’t know everything and you will have to defy and disappoint them. Don’t worry though because either way it will work out great for them. If you defy them and do what you want and it fails, they can say I told you so forever. If you defy them and do what you want and it succeeds, they’ll say they were behind you all along and it was their idea. Also, fun fact, if you obey them and do what they want and it fails, they’ll say well you should have been your own man and what do they know.
Anyway, I blame myself entirely. It is a week man who blames others for their failings.
I told myself I’d do the practical for a while and then after I’ve made some money I’ll do what I actually want. (Kids, FYI this doesn’t happen. Don’t buy that shit if someone tells you it does.)
Long story short, the practical thing didn’t work out. At that point I thought maybe I should go back to my true love of writing.
But I was a wuss. So I did another practical thing. This practical thing actually worked out.
I do feel like I cheated myself though. The writing world had accepted me early and I ended up worrying that I’d end up 30 and failed because I wasn’t being paid much at 20. Now I realize that yeah, that just happens. You have to pay your dues but good for you, your foot is in the door. Your feet are on the first rung of the ladder, so keep climbing.
At this point now, I’m 40. I’m self sufficient. I suffered a lot though and to be honest, a lack of stability made relationships difficult. I had to come to grips this year with the fact that it’s too late to have children. Technically, I can have them forever but all the women in my age bracket are closed down for baby business.
Could I adopt a little Chinese kid? Sure. Do I fear they’ll send me a faulty one on purpose and refuse to take it back? All the big ticket purchases I’ve made in recent years where I open the box only to find that the item is missing a part such that someone at the factory was asleep at the switch tells me yes. (Was this meant as a joke? Partially.)
There’s nothing I can do about it now, but the regret is palpable. I had my foot in the door in what I wanted at an early age. Then I talked myself out of it. Then when that failed I was free to go back to what I wanted but I chickened out again. Ergo, had I just stuck like ten straight years in what I wanted, I probably would have gotten to be where I wanted.
Although sometimes now I think maybe it worked out because I guess I’ll never know for sure writing would have worked out.
I guess we never know how things work until we do them. When they don’t work, we are certain the opposite course would have been a success.
Question – How do I cope with this regret?
My answer – Keep writing self published books and hope one of them hits.
Feel free to offer your answers in the comments.
Hey 3.5 readers.
Bookshelf Q. Battler here.
I suppose we all get wrapped up into the good of self-publishing i.e. all the great success stories big (the self-published millionaires) and small (the person who finally got to see their name in print even if it doesn’t make a dime) and in-between (the person who makes a fairly decent living but has yet to become wealthy)…but it’s worth noting there are some shenanigans going on as this article points out – plagiarism, unscrupulous characters ripping off authors, stealing their content and packaging it as their own, violating the rules and so on.
Has anyone ever experienced any self-published hi-jinx?
#1 – “Wealth is good, and if it comes our way we will take it; but a gentleman does not sell himself for wealth.”
#2 – “Listen! What is life? It is a feather, it is the seed of the grass, blown hither and thither, sometimes multiplying itself and dying in the act, sometimes carried away into the heavens. But if that seed be good and heavy it may perchance travel a little way on the road it wills. It is well to try and journey one’s road and to fight with the air. Man must die. At the worst he can but die a little sooner.”
#3 – “It is a curious thing that at my age — fifty-five last birthday — I should find myself taking up a pen to try to write a history. I wonder what sort of a history it will be when I have finished it, if ever I come to the end of the trip! I have done a good many things in my life, which seems a long one to me, owing to my having begun work so young, perhaps. At an age when other boys are at school I was earning my living as a trader in the old Colony. I have been trading, hunting, fighting, or mining ever since. And yet it is only eight months ago that I made my pile. It is a big pile now that I have got it — I don’t yet know how big — but I do not think I would go through the last fifteen or sixteen months again for it; no, not if I knew that I should come out safe at the end, pile and all. But then I am a timid man, and dislike violence; moreover, I am almost sick of adventure. I wonder why I am going to write this book: it is not in my line. I am not a literary man, though very devoted to the Old Testament and also to the “Ingoldsby Legends.” Let me try to set down my reasons, just to see if I have any.”
#4 – “The Garden of Eden, no doubt, looked fair before man was, but I always think that it must have been fairer when Eve adorned it.”
#5 – “The moon grows black before your eyes; soon there will be darkness—ay, darkness in the hour of the full moon. Ye have asked for a sign; it is given to you. Grow dark, O Moon! withdraw thy light, thou pure and holy One; bring the proud heart of usurping murderers to the dust, and eat up the world with shadows.”
#6 – “On, on we went, till at last the east began to blush like the cheek of a girl. Then there came faint rays of primrose light, that changed presently to golden bars, through which the dawn glided out across the desert. The stars grew pale and paler still, till at last they vanished; the golden moon waxed wan, and her mountain ridges stood out against her sickly face like the bones on the cheek of a dying man. Then came spear upon spear of light flashing far away across the boundless wilderness, piercing and firing the veils of mist, till the desert was draped in a tremulous golden glow, and it was day.”
#7 – “Ignosi bound the diadem upon his brows. Then advancing, he placed his foot upon the broad chest of his headless foe and broke out into a chant, or rather a pæan of triumph, so beautiful, and yet so utterly savage, that I despair of being able to give an adequate version of his words. Once I heard a scholar with a fine voice read aloud from the Greek poet Homer, and I remember that the sound of the rolling lines seemed to make my blood stand still. Ignosi’s chant, uttered as it was in a language as beautiful and sonorous as the old Greek, produced exactly the same effect on me, although I was exhausted with toil and many emotions.”
#8 – “Presently Good came up to Sir Henry and myself. “Good-bye, you fellows,” he said; “I am off with the right wing according to orders; and so I have come to shake hands, in case we should not meet again, you know,” he added significantly. We shook hands in silence, and not without the exhibition of as much emotion as Anglo-Saxons are wont to show.”
#9 – “Out of the vast main aisle there opened here and there smaller caves, exactly, Sir Henry said, as chapels open out of great cathedrals. Some were large, but one or two—and this is a wonderful instance of how nature carries out her handiwork by the same unvarying laws, utterly irrespective of size—were tiny. One little nook, for instance, was no larger than an unusually big doll’s house, and yet it might have been a model for the whole place, for the water dropped, tiny icicles hung, and spar columns were forming in just the same way.”
#10 – “Then I saw that the birds were a flock of pauw or bustards, and that they would pass within fifty yards of my head. Taking one of the repeating Winchesters, I waited till they were nearly over us, and then jumped to my feet. On seeing me the pauw bunched up together, as I expected that they would, and I fired two shots straight into the thick of them, and, as luck would have it, brought one down, a fine fellow, that weighed about twenty pounds. In half an hour we had a fire made of dry melon stalks, and he was toasting over it, and we made such a feed as we had not tasted for a week. We ate that pauw; nothing was left of him but his leg-bones and his beak, and we felt not a little the better afterwards.”
(This video is the best thing I ever got a woman to do for five bucks.)
Hey 3.5 readers.
Five years ago, this blog was conceived when I was crying myself into a cheesy burrito at Taco Bell, upset that I had not yet achieved my dream of becoming a professional writer.
I then realized that blogging technology exists, everyone was doing it, that I was someone and ergo, I should also add my voice into the vapid Internet vacuum.
And so, on that fateful day, this terrible blog was born. Ironically, it wasn’t the worst thing that happened that day. Years later, I would come to realize that when I ate a burrito, I was engaging in highly unwoke cultural appropriation, for I am not a Mexican and therefore have no right to consume Mexican food.
To condense this tomfoolery, I have never forgiven myself for either atrocity – the blog as well as the unwoke food choice.
Worse, I continue to do both to this day, having not learned my lesson. Come to think of it, I’m eating a burrito as I type this right now. Mmm tasty for a minute, but then an hour devoted to cleaning cheese out of my keyboard later. Oh well, nothing good in life ever came easy.
When I first started, this blog was supposed to just be a little hobby. Something to give me an online presence. In the meantime, I was going to work on books and try to query them and then be like, “Hey agent! I have a blog!”
That never bore fruit. Instead, I got hooked on the world of self-publishing. It remains to be seen if that was a good thing to get into or not.
Part of me thinks it is a viable business opportunity if I just remain patient and realize that it is a long game where you have to get maybe 5 or 6 really good books out there before people take notice.
Another part of me thinks life would be so much better if I’d just throw my computer in a dumpster, toss in some gas and a lighted match, set it all ablaze, extinguish it, leave a note of apology to the dumpster company and then spend the time I use for writing on something like, oh, I don’t know, walking on a treadmill and making green smoothies.
I’d say that last option would make my doctor happier but honestly, I don’t think my doctor could pick me out of a lineup.
I’d quit this if I could and there’s a part of me that thinks maybe social media is ruining everything. Sure, it gives a voice to the voice-less, but it also gives a voice to a lot of a-holes and I fear I may be one of them.
Here are some stats I’ve scored in my five years of bloggery. You tell me if they made this futile exercise worth it:
(All numbers are what I’ve racked up since the blog began 5 years ago.)
POSTS – 3,537 (Mostly about farts)
VIEWS – 122,325 (Mostly Aunt Gertie)
VISITORS – 80,078 (Mostly people who came here for directions on how to get away from here.)
And there you have it. My blogging all boiled down to the stats. By the way, I also have 2,605 who have clicked the follow button on this blog but somehow, I only have 3.5 readers. I know 3.5 is facetious but it isn’t that much of a stretch either. On an average day, I’m lucky to crack maybe 20 or 30 visitors. Getting over 100 in a day is reason to pop the champagne.
So, let me know what you think about my 5 years of blogging. Oh, and if you’ve followed me from the beginning, for a couple years, or just started recently, thank you…and also, I hope whatever ailment you are suffering from that keeps you housebound and unable to do anything productive so all you do is just read dumb blogs like this one clears up soon.
As the song goes, the best things in life are free, 3.5 readers.
Well, that’s correct, because my books are life changing experiences and I don’t think that’s too much hype, or maybe it is. I don’t know. Know what I do know?
All this week.
I know you’re busy, but you’d be doing me a favor if you’d grab one, or better yet, leave a nice review (that you agree with of course.)
Hey 3.5 readers.
Your old pal BQB here.
It’s official. I have now written 3,500 posts for 3.5 readers. This is not my 3,500th post. My last post was that one. This is the post to let you know that 3,500 posts have been posted.
Thank you, 3.5 readers. It has been a joy to entertain all 3.5 of you. Sometimes I wish you would each tell a friend so I could have 7 readers, but a good writer never looks any gift readers in the mouth.
My Big Book of Badass Writing Prompts, available for your reading pleasure, 3.5 readers:
Hey 3.5 readers. BQB here.
I blogged less in 2018. I still blogged a lot, but not as much. I was making an effort to get Toilet Gator, the best book ever written about toilets, gators, or toilet gators, done.
2019 I will have to blog even less. I feel 2019 needs to be the year that I turn a profit, otherwise this little enterprise can’t go on forever.
So I will have to focus on books and less on the blog. That means less writing funny columns and so forth.
At any rate, I will do my best to check in once a day with a daily discussion. At some point, this blog may just become all about movie reviews and daily discussions.
In the meantime, if you could all start to multiply, I would appreciate it. Stop being 3.5 readers and start becoming 350,000 readers.
Hey 3.5 readers.
I’ve been writing this blog since 2014. Next March, it will be 5 years. My Christmas wish is that next year this little enterprise will actually start turning a profit. Toilet Gator will hopefully come out in 2019 and if a book about an alligator who eats people while they are pooping can’t make me a millionaire then I don’t know what will.
In the meantime, check out one of my books below and if you have a spare 99 cents, feel free to buy one.
What is your Christmas wish? Discuss in the comments.