I’ve got it! I’ll just write a book about how unlovable and fucked up I am. How I was only healed upon a chance encounter with real pain and loss and then realized I was just being a dumb, tedious, self involved moron.
That would probably sell. We all like reading about ourselves, right?
Of course I’d build up the reader first by writing ”Yes! You’re a fucking stupid loser! So get over it. Get over yourself. You’re a dumb flawed animal that only sees a painfully small slice of reality. You are fucked. Nothing will ever be enough.
Your heart is pinned nude like a shivering moment in a display case. You’re stuck, transfixed in time, seduced by an emotion, an idea. You think something should be a certain way and its not.
BOO FUCKING HOO!
We all lose evertyhing here. And no one gets out of here alive so you may want to find the guts to be honest and real for just one moment. Be alive with no apologies or excuses or self help books.”
God that would sell, right? I mean if I sexed it up and learned how to write? I mean if I wasn’t such a fucking loser? If I wasn’t such a stupid head, monkey ass…” (voice trails off as author wanders down the hallway)
The key is convincing the reader that there is no answer and then selling them an answer. Even if the answer is, there is no answer - sell that fucker! rinse and repeat - get a sexy soundtrack and pretty people! Sell! Sell!
Jade Bos author of Shit, Fuck, Sing… (your dumb magic heart can’t do anything)
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