Reader Mailbag: How Do I Get People to Read My Writing

12 Jan

streisand awards

David writes:

…how do you get people to come to your website when they don’t even know your name?

All right, my book sales are in the tank after one good month, and I’m not– I have nothing more to write. I don’t want to post more bullshit. But I have to. Been back through all the shit I wrote and it’s just that, shit. Nothing to say. I have another novel coming except the stinger at the end of the Kristen Roupenian interview is: she’s writing one about the same thing. It will overshadow mine like Saturn next to a grain of sand. Oh well.

I’ve been blogging– Jesus Christ does any word make you want to puke more– blogging for seven years. What came of it. It was something to do. Like the greatest Xbox game ever made. Longer than Skyrim. More pussy than The Witcher 3. I’ll do a fake Barbra Streisand retirement. My last tour. Better buy tickets now. Better tell me please don’t go. Maybe I’ll do a site redesign. Maybe I’ll submit to Terror House. I don’t have the balls to quit.

I’d be nothing. You can’t just be a large mammal. Something has to fill your mind and if it’s your job you’ll shoot people. That’s what irritates me about Kristen Roupenian. She never worked. She gets to live in relationship world. If I ever made anything good I was in relationship world. In job world five days of the week just don’t exist.

I wrote a novel– I put it out like three weeks ago. Now it doesn’t exist.

I have to plug it but unlike Kristen Roupenian I don’t have publicists and copy editors. I have to slaughter the cow myself, gut it, skin it, tan the hide, smoke the meat, make mead flagons out of its horns myself. I’m sick of looking at this cow and now I have to tell people how great the fucking cow is. I alone must say this. Can one fucking person– one famous person, or a woman with big tits– just fucking say it’s good in public.

Why does everything have to have this evil flipside where something good leads to something that sucks worse. For example why does one month of satisfying book sales and page views lead to this hangover of normal sales and views feeling worse than it did before. Satan runs the world.

Anyway: how to get people to read.

You could post a link in my comments. That’s what I did. Posted in comments on Heartiste dot WordPress dot com and New York Magazine. A few others. The Heartiste one worked. It was the Fifty Shades of Grey review. It instantly got me an audience. I was posting ever day so it built and built.

But no one clicks links from comments anymore. Also I only have one commenter. A man obsessed with making me feel bad. And it works. I know he’s retarded. I feel like he must be Korean but it works, it works perfectly. I post that I’m an aging male secretary and he comments that I’m an aging male secretary and it hurts. Again and again. It hurts every time. And sometimes it doesn’t hurt for five minutes or an hour but anything negative in life there’s the back chamber of the bicameral mind or whateverthefuck that just keeps pushing and pushing until a moment it can hurt you. I’d say that’s why I drank but even drinking didn’t help. That voice still there… and then it gets personified outside of you. By someone who you want to think… what. You don’t know anything about them. You know everything about me, and what he says is true.

You get to the point where you don’t give a shit about being an aging male secretary. Whatever job I had would feel this way. There’s no “good” job. People passionate about their jobs are not people. They really should be killed. Money is the passion you have when you have no soul to have another passion. Someone who makes money is not a person, I want to think.

Also: I make money! That’s why you don’t read about my job. It’s a) not bad and b) greatly enriches me. Walking away money. But someone will take it. Them, or some woman.

Every mean comment hurts me. And there’s always one guy. Maybe the same guy for years. You’d think a person repeating your own self-deprecating remarks wouldn’t hit. But it does. Every time. You figure: someone hurt them so they hurt you et cetera. The cycle of abuse. But neither knowing that nor any other spiritual horseshit ever helps, at all. God won’t help. Alcoholics Anonymous practices, Acceptance won’t help. Nothing helps. There’s no God. God is evil. My haters do not make me stronger. I’m not Christina Aguilera or some other whore.

Anything but male secretary would be worse. Coder. Salesman. Aspergers freak with a huge chromosome damage dick he’ll never use or slightly toned down Ted Bundy. It’s worth it to eat that humiliation. For not having to network. Not having to cold call. Not having to sell myself, push myself, promote myself. To not say synergize.

The Fifty Shades review was topical. Something everyone was talking about. I got on it fast. I’d read it before it came out. When it was an e-book called Master of the Universe by Snowqueens Icedragon. Erotic Twilight fanfiction. I’d been told by another asshole in my movie and TV company that it was my job to track independent e-books. He’d read that independent e-books were hot. There was a New York Times article.

I read Master of the Universe by Snowqueens Icedragon, the world’s greatest e-book. My “big” boss knew I’d been told to track e-books and I knew from online forums that Master would get big. He’d hear about it. Ask angrily why didn’t we get this. I had to go explain to him: you’ll hear about this e-book. Master of the Universe. It’s not about He-Man. It’s bondage pornography based on Twilight, and it’s topping the cha– yes, no, I didn’t– no I’m serious, that’s what it is.

The next day instead of working I wrote the review. On my work computer. I was making $31,000 a year. 11 hours a day. So I wrote blog posts at work and watched Russian porn. Afraid IT might track my activities. Run my sex crimes up the chain to the real boss. They made you call him Mr. Moonves.

Now you can’t get page views on a blog. It can’t be done. Your blog won’t be good. I’m the best there is, and I suck. The good news is: just about every professional writer is retarded. Dishonest. To the point where the word “writer” makes me sick. The field is wide open. Write every day for a year. Forget the results. Focus on the work. Get so famous you don’t remember who I am.

14 Responses to “Reader Mailbag: How Do I Get People to Read My Writing”

  1. Choad January 12, 2019 at 12:46 pm #

    How’d your life be different if you lived in a time writing hadn’t been invented?

  2. Jimmy James January 12, 2019 at 1:12 pm #

    don’t post here often, but in response to:

    >>I have another novel coming except the stinger at the end of the Kristen Roupenian interview is: she’s writing one about the same thing. It will overshadow mine like Saturn next to a grain of sand. Oh well.

    Who gives a fuck? Just produce man. Keep churning out work. Some guys write for years and years before anything sticks. Produce. Improve. Produce again. Improve more. And so on.

    Worry about this things you can control. End corny ass personal development rant.

  3. Anonymous January 12, 2019 at 4:44 pm #

    You are still an aging male secretary, and I am actually French and a lesbian, not Korean.

    Signed,

    Your Mom

  4. shn January 12, 2019 at 4:58 pm #

    no one gave a shit about bukowski until he was 50 and you’re not bukowski

    give it another 20 years

  5. hciB January 12, 2019 at 7:13 pm #

    I’m not korean or retarded you faggot. I am however a coder, because coders make $200000.

    I am not going to insult you anymore. You got high off your own supply of incel commenters and I sought fit to bring you back to reality, because it was some distasteful shit.

    Watch this so you do not hang yourself: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=44f3mxcsI50

    In parting, fuck you.

    Signed,
    hctiB

  6. alanpenrose5654 January 13, 2019 at 11:32 am #

    I feel your pain, one week back in 2006, my first, and only book, reached the top 100,000 book sales on amazon, must have been a slow week for other books. Since then, I have kept banging away on the keyboard, to this point, posting my work on the internet, with a lot of trepidation. For the first time in 51 years of life I have discovered a new stronger me, and fear the vicious cowards of the internet, which would test my resolve in the confidence of this new person I have found, and thus be thrust back to the mania of 2013, not good. I have a dream to publish again, but have no clue about how good or bad what I write is, so would take the negative comments to heart.

  7. dickycone January 13, 2019 at 8:22 pm #

    Hey man, your writing is good. That’s not the problem. Making $$$ in any creative field is less likely than making $$$ playing the lottery. You’re down because you’re an aging middle-aged guy with no family. There’s a lot of that going around.

    Speaking of your quality writing, send me those secret blog posts or whatever you were offering to sweeten the pot for those of us who bought your book. I emailed you a screenshot from Amazon per your instructions on 12/22.

  8. Thom Lynch January 14, 2019 at 11:54 am #

    you gotta be willing to build and be part of a coalition. your book is great, but it’s not selling because the writing is a very small part of it. you have a romantic idea of this. talent is maybe 10%. ask modigliani.

  9. Anonymous January 14, 2019 at 2:35 pm #

    Who cares about writing? How do I get the chubby Latina barista at the shitty overpriced coffee shop across the street from my job to fuck me? I go there and slowly sip $5 tea every day at lunchtime because when she walks by and I get a glimpse of her ass blood immediately starts rushing to my penis. I need you guidance as a leading expert on pussy-getting. If I can’t bury my face into her ass I’m going to kill myself. Please help!

  10. Chantal de PenIsland January 17, 2019 at 8:53 am #

    As a long time reader, my diagnosis is first that you have pretty much plumbed the depths of modern anomie (with piercing insight and better than almost anyone else, I should respectfully add). “But what’s left when there’s nothing left?” is a question that many are asking. I would love to read more about your experiences with God, for example.

    Second, that you’re lacking in input material. You don’t do as much crazy and self-destructive things in real life anymore, so that’s one source gone. But there’s so much out there to receive. Like the thing about the butter knife on top of Plato’s Republic — the Republic is hard as fuck to read from what I remember but there are 19th-century travelogues, hilarious Middle English poetry, riveting war tales from all ages, and more that are awesome.

    Also you’re right that you basically have to hustle for views. I think a good way to do this is to get involved in some community while it’s in the early stages. Like get on “Scuttlebutt” or “Plume” / fediverse or one of these other obscure open source social networks and become the “writer guy” there.

    P.S. Why don’t you write erotica under a vaguely feminine sounding pen name and sell it on Amazon? You would kill it and from what I recall those are like the only indie books on Amazon that make any money.

  11. Atlanta Man January 17, 2019 at 11:18 am #

    I love you man. Keep on writing.

    If it helps everyone’s life is a tragedy. Dr Atlanta Man MD,JD, PhD is recently divorced, his ex wife is already engaged. His new fuck buddy blessed him with nudes(good ones the bitch was hot-you saw them), wild sex(all holes in play), an STD(curable, or I could have just got E Coli from when we went ass to mouth on the first date-who knows, it really doesn’t matter…. ) and ghosting. This was followed by a series of one night stands , a bout of Syphilis, and a serious career setback caused by circumstances unforeseeable and out of my control that may take up to a year to fix. Despite the frequent sexual encounters , my loneliness is constant and I was plagued by thoughts of suicide so intense that I had to go volunteer at the homeless shelter to gain perspective and cut back my drinking because I feared that I could not control my drunken impulses to put a gun in my mouth and end it.

    I have no children, no wife, no meaningful relationship of any kind with the opposite sex and an inability to feel anything. I do not even cum most of the time I have sex- I stopped jerking off to see if it would help-it did not. The only sex that makes me cum is so degenerate that I have actually surprised myself with how far I can make girls go within hours of meeting them. I also have to lie about my age to convince women young enough to be my daughter to come home and let me aggressively pound them out, exchange bodily fluids,and cum in their mouth, anus or both. Then I drug myself to sleep with benzodiazapines and prescription cannabis products. I pay a lot to live in South Beach on the water in a building full of whores, drug dealers, and young professionals- I am only happy on Sunday when I go to the pool-The whores do look good in bathing suits and all tan topless.

    I am also bald. At least I am not short- Then life would really suck.

  12. Small January 17, 2019 at 3:23 pm #

    No one actually makes money. The money is all in China and Saudi Arabia. The fucking president is eating McDonald’s. There isn’t another side to this fence, no greener grass – it’s just another grazing field, and another one and another one, stretching on endlessly and forever. No one is free. There’s no one to envy. Hollywood stars die of drug overdoses and suicides… what else do you need to know? Just be happy your asshole isn’t collapsing again yet and go take a walk.

    Imagine how *I* feel – I can’t even get an aging male secretary to fuck me.

    Christ, I’m grumpy.

    Anyway: Twitter drives traffic to lots of shit these days. I assume you know this. People do click links off Twitter (according to my webpage analytics) but you do need to engage all the time & play to the audience. Your feed is great for people who want to know you better, but… you should have gotten one of those college girls off SA to be your social media manager. I get that you don’t want to play the game – but the people who can get you a bigger audience are playing. And the people who will put books on the shelves next to yours are playing too. If you won’t play – then even with all of your content and all of your genius, you won’t be better off than losers like me who don’t produce content. You deserve more. Too bad you got banned off SA.

  13. Tyler January 17, 2019 at 7:00 pm #

    I don’t get why you don’t make YouTube videos.

    I’m sure most of them would be de-monetized due to the content being unfriendly to advertising, but any good content isn’t. Just get a patreon account until they, too, block you. I hear Jordan Peterson is working on an alternative…

    Anyway, I’m sure there are plenty of young men who would want to hear your advice or banter.

  14. hctiB January 19, 2019 at 2:09 am #

    Sup, faggot. I’ve returned to hurt your fee-fees.

    In sex and the city Sarah Jessica Parker has a “im a horse-faced writer with a good body” vibe. She’s the female personification of a gay man in New York.

    You, lacking imagination, have wasted 10 years as the LA male version of Carrie Bradshaw. That makes you the male personification of a female personification of a gay man, which means: you’re gay.

    Cuck

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