Derry, Northern Ireland

Derry, Northern Ireland
A book I'm working on is set in this town.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

(Big sigh here)

I. Give. Up. Amazon's filled with liars. Barnes & Noble is filled with idiots. Kobo is filled with shit. I have now worked with two different publishers on my books and neither one of them pays attention to me. And that's when dealing with people who make money off me. Not a lot, but some.

My new bank is totally screwed up and won't let me access my account online. My health and car insurance companies only want to up my premiums and return nothing, if they can help it. Packing jobs that say one thing suddenly require you do way more with no change in time allotment.

On top of it all, a guy I'm doing a favor for by writing his life story into not only a screenplay but also a book sees no problem with reworking what I've written, even though he hasn't got a clue concerning simple punctuation or sentence structure.

Okay...this can't be the way the world is supposed to work. It must be something in me. Maybe I'm just too much of a wuss. Maybe in my concern that I'll become an asshole, I've become someone who can be spat upon. I hate confrontations. I've been in a total of five actual fights in my life and lost every one of them, so I'm loathe to lose another. Maybe I'm just a coward who lives a full life through the characters he puts on a page and who whines into his imagination while letting the world fuck him over.

I dunno. I'm just sick of having to fight. I'm sick of having to deal with people who don't give a damn about me and think I don't know that they don't.

Hell, I'm just sick, period. I've got a weird throat going on and I've been ravenous, which is usually a warning sign that I'm getting a cold. Meaning I'll turn into a Tasmanian Devil for a while. Grr, snap, snarl, yowl, argh as I spin around in a vicious cloud of dust.

Hell with it. Kitty wants some catnip and a cat nap. Screw the world.

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