I blame Stephen King

A couple weeks ago I finished Stephen King’s book On Writing. A huge fan of his (his book of short stories Night Shift was part of the reason that I started writing in the first place), I’d avoided reading it for years because I knew what it contained; the truth.

Simple truths about writing and why I suck at it.

Included in the Introduction of my seminal book The Song Between Her Legs is the following; “I know my limitations. I am incapable of writing some epic, transcendent story about fabulous people doing fabulous things, meticulously researched and rich in detail.”

This stupid book by Stephen King made me forget that for awhile.

Visitors to my website, or lack thereof, forced me to remember.

Typically I get anywhere between 200 and 400 visitors a day reading my dumb flash fiction. During the couple weeks that I started The Unnamed Story, with the goal of writing it a piece at a time over 300 days, those numbers dropped dramatically. Fewer and fewer hits until I pulled the plug on the unnamed story.

It’s a shame because in the story was a large number of young blonde women and if the story had become a big hit I would have no doubt been approached to make it into a movie and I would have no doubt been able to sleep with a large number of young blonde wannabe actresses.

When you think about it, because my fan base has a short attention span they have directly caused me to lose out on a lot of sex.

I hope you’re happy.

Nobody wants to bang the author of flash fiction with an audience of 200-400 people.

Excuse me for swinging for the fences.

Anyway, I can’t blame my loyal readers for being the idiots that they are so I am going to blame Stephen King and his dumb book.

Sorry. I hope you’ll all come back now.