The original release.
Order here!
Recap.
There, now we're well into the summer of Hembock.
By now, I was getting more confident already, and had the uploading process down pat.
And, having the year to reflect, I'm even more confident, and certain about what's important to me.
It's my creative liberty.
That's my lifeblood, always has been.
It's what I fought for in all of my rebelling and resistance all of my life.
Shmegalamomonga and my Amazon publishing are my Troma.
I'm not in it for "Rich and famous!! Rich and famous!!".
If I get that all on my terms with no soul-selling, and game playing, fine.
But it's not my primary goal, or even secondary.
It's pretty low on the list, actually.
If I wanted to be famous at all costs, I could walk right out the door, right now, and do something stupid to get on the news.
America has become that lately.
That's why we have all these awful reality shows.
Screw that.
If I wanted to be rich at all costs, I could be a trend whore, and write the next "Twilight".
Or worse, be like the opium addicted cow that wrote "Little Women".
There's my ultimate nightmare right there.
Fuck that right in the ear.
This awful striving greed culture can say what it wants about me, and I no longer give a shit.
I'm fulfilled and happy doing what I'm doing.
If anything else comes of it, that'll be gravy.
I've already got the meat & potatoes.
I'm also more confident about the books themselves.
I wavered a little here, but fuck it, they're great, and I love 'em.
They're my babies.
They're a fucking riot, you'll enjoy 'em if you let yourself, and if you don't buy 'em, it's your loss, not mine.
Oh well.
Harry Hembock has been the ride of my life, and I feel sorry for people that don't have something like that.
Find your fucking Harry, before it's too late, kids.
And never let the zombies take it from you.
If all the accumulated rants on Shmegalamonga have been about anything, it's that last bit.
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