Still more people than my previous world's indoor record, which was however many people I'd send my books or stories too. In the old days, of course, when I was writing for Graphics Journal, I got read by almost the full circulation of 25,000 on a monthly basis. That was a specialized rant, of course, but I did write some cogent (and sometimes funny) stuff about the graphics industry. (Or gwafix, as I called some of the stupid stuff that people did, and still do, in the design business.)
And it looks like I'm back in the shit again regarding my latest novel; the publisher emailed me yesterday with that old one about "it was a very enjoyable read, but we just did not think it was quite right for us, as our list is quite full and we would not be able to give it the attention it would otherwise deserve in order for us to publish it successfully." I'd love to sic you on them, but they're nice enough folks and, who knows, maybe they'll want the next one. And there will be a next one, I promise. I know, I know, I said awhile back that if this one didn't sell I'd hang it up and go work at McDonald's. Well, thank to the bleeding in my brain, that ain't happening either. I'm a much better writer than I am a counter person ("Do you want fries with that? No? Then go fuck yourself..."), so I think I'll stick to writing, thank you. I am working on a non-fiction piece about my recent experiences with the medical profession, and it may even be interesting. There are those who've pushed for me to give up all this fiction silliness and do some non-fiction and, who knows, it might even work. I'll be back to novels after that, however; I enjoy them, and the creative process required to write one, too much. Besides, I'm never going to afford the Silly Big Boat (and the indolent lifestyle to go with it) without either hitting the lottery or publishing something. Given my luck, so far, buying lottery tickets, I guess I'll get back to the computer now...
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