By the time this post reaches readers who are embryonic or unthought-of as I type, that statement is bound to have less meaning than it has now.
As I type, the phrase has little meaning.
What's unreal about an e-book? Was it not written by a real author? If you chainsaw us, do we not bleed? E-books are as real as the pain I feel in my stomach.
I say that, knowing what's coming next for supper. And I dread the collision of food with gut. Couldn't I eat something else? Something mild? I'm in deep, digestively, as things stand.
Damn.
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There are some points in publishing that make my head fucking spin.
If a man does it, why this writing business is of great import. Yet if a woman does it, why, 'tis no more than a hobby.
Fuck off. Just fuck off if you think that. Fuck the fuck off back to wherever you fucked off from in the first place, so the people who told you to fuck off the first time can tell you to fuck off all over again - and rightly fucking so.
E-books aren't books.
Fuck off. Just fuck off if you think that. Fuck the fuck off back to wherever you fucked off from in the first place, so the people who told you to fuck off the first time can tell you to fuck off all over again - and rightly fucking so.
I could go on. So I will. Since time out of mind, paper has given legitimacy to the written word. Times and minds change. E-readers have been around for a long time. No, longer than that.
They didn't take off immediately.
The advent of the Kindle, with its massive internet support base in place, changed the landscape. But still, in this first decade of Kindling, audiences are reluctant to think legitimate thoughts of e-books, and, by extension, e-publishers.
Paper book technology is great. It's no longer the only game in town. If you are desperate, you can use a book as toilet-roll. That's a mite trickier with a Kindle.
There is a myth that paper publishers are the worthy curators of books. They look after books in ways that indie self-publishers never could. To go along with that is to go along with the view that there is a war between paper and e-print.
Nonsense. Paper publishers are not the curators of books. Readers are. And paper publishers somehow manage to e-publish too. There are some points in publishing that make my head fucking spin...
Shenanigans engaged in by large paper publishers would see indie e-publishers crucified for indulging in same. No, I won't give examples. I'm thinking of awarding myself another million advance for writing an e-book.
HERE'S A BLOG POST ABOUT THAT.
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I was waiting for you. Just in case you tapped the link and found a further link inside that blog post leading deeper into a hole marked RABBIT.
There's no war of paper versus e-print, so I decided not to catalogue a nasty list of vices of which I do not partake. Besides, such a long list would lie outwith the scope and design-limitations of this blog.
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Writing this post a week ahead of the game, I hope my queasy stomach will have settled by the time these words see daylight. This is another fractured blog post.
I write for the Kindle. There. A declared interest. Of course e-books are real. Do I really have to say that? Given the comments I encounter on the internet...
Yes.
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Sometimes, you type with a stomach that's dead-set against your interests as a scribbler. I threw a spicy supper at the problem, and negated the damage somehow.
Kindle books are real. I didn't walk a long road to tell you that. But I did walk one to write them.
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