I think I’ll be good financially. The Hoard isn’t even out yet and the promotion has already boosted the sales of my other books. Here’s the thing, I feel like I would hate someone talking about this, and I don’t even think I’m an envious person. But I can’t help it. Sweet beardo in heaven above, the joy that flows through me whenever I think about it almost gives me physical orgasms. And I don’t even hate my job. I like my job just fine. But 9 hours of it in a row? That’s insane.
So one more week of fulltime work. After that, it’s 1-5 pm. Four hours is just about the time I start to get crazy bored.
There was a study recently about the “millennial” generation that says they buy a disproportionate number of books. People seem shocked that the “millennial” generation reads at all. What shocks me is that they’re called “the millennial generation” instead of “generation y”. The other thing that shocks me is that I’m apparently part of this millennial generation. At least a few people who decide this sort of thing include 1979 as the last year of generation x. This counts it as the first year of the millennials. I think someone needs to take responsibility for conclusively telling us all which generation we belong to.
But I do read a lot, so maybe I am a millennial. I’ve been averaging 4-5 novels a week. My problem is that I don’t read paper books, and my library has no ebooks. So here’s one of my career goals: to become a big enough name in the horror genre that publishers send me ARCs in hopes of blurbage. That would save me like a grand a year.
I’m still working on author pics. Trying to get something a bit edgier (hence the stubble and the pughuameranian). So to round out the narcissism: