OK, honestly, how did humanity convey the concept of "having an idea" before the 1870s, when the light bulb was invented (or made famous by Thomas Edison, as the case may be)? Were people too stupid to have brilliant ideas before there was enough artificial light to have them by? By which to have them? Whatever?
But I digress.
My post actually has nothing to do with light bulbs.
|Or this, although on a related note, I may be addicted|
to Google image search.
I say trying because, if you told me I had to produce a single finished chapter or else lose a toe, I'd be one nine-toed bitch.
|Awww, Right Big is my favorite toe.|
If I made such things my benchmark for continued commitment to writing, I'd be a closeted gay nun tromboner feminist social worker zookeeper instead of a writer.
|Or this guy.|
As an avocation, writing is among the most noble. As a business, it's down there with discount prostitution.
|Moliere: Total badass.|
It doesn't cost a lot to self-publish a book. It's not dirt cheap, certainly. But for less than the cost of a couple of rooms' worth of hardwood flooring, any writer can have a book professionally critiqued, edited, designed, and printed. All that remains is distribution. And getting a book distributed via the major online and brick-and-mortar outlets is a gargantuan task. Which is why it's best left to the big publishing houses, whose attention (in case you've forgotten) is nigh impossible to get.
That's why I propose to self-publish a limited quantity of my book (when it's finally finished) and crowdsource the distribution.
Well, I happen to know a number of people who travel a lot as part of their jobs. I know others who somehow manage to arrange multiple out-of-town getaways during the year, and still others who occasionally take a road trip because it's time to take a road trip.
|That's pretty impressive to those of us who fear roads. And trips.|
And the unknown. And raising our hands in the air like we just don't care.
Those people are awesome. And maybe - just maybe - they'd be willing to carry with them a few copies of my book and leave them behind on their travels.
In airport lounges. In train stations. Or rest stops. Or Starbucks locations.
There's no telling where my humble book could end up if only I had willing accomplices.
If just a few people would read my book and pass it on, eventually it might catch on.
I'd like that a lot.
What do you think, Drunkards?
Or so stupid it just might work?