Trophy Unlocked

About a year ago, give or take a few days, my book came out. Or rather, I put it out myself and then yelled at everybody within earshot it was available. And a lot of you listened! Some bought the book because they needed a reliable door stopper, others because I emotionally blackmailed them, and a few people even bought it to read! I appreciate all of you, whatever the reason you bought it.
But a wise man, or woman, or some Disney princess once said you have to aim for the stars. Smart advice. And I’m not taking it. As an archer I know that aiming for the stars is a dumb idea. You can’t hit a star. I prefer to set my sights to a more attainable goal. A target of which you at least have a chance to hit it. I must admit, during the year there were some moments of creeping doubt, but look at this!

Look! Look at it!

That little bump in an otherwise straight line means the game is on. The Hemi was revving, but now the Vindicator’s off the line. 
My goal was to sell at least one book to someone I couldn’t influence in any way. I mean, aside from promotion, which, to be honest, was pretty much non-existent anyway. Promoting the book is far more expensive than making the book. Obviously. Savvy motherfuckers know nobody needs a book, but everybody needs a book promoted.
Right, so I didn’t do a lot of promotion. I kinda don’t wanna be one of the ads that always annoy me. That would be either irony or hypocrisy, though honesty compels me to add that I would definitely be ironically hypocritical if I could afford it.

On to brass tacks. What do we know about this person who bought my book? Fuck all, is what we know.
They bought a print copy, so it’s safe to assume they enjoy books. And they’re from the UK. That’s what I have to work with. But that’s okay. It leaves a lot of room for interpretation, so by my logic—you know, the logic that wrote about the hero doing the impossible because he was too dumb to know why it was impossible—the person who bought the book is Ridley Scott. The director. No, seriously.

Here, watch me do logic:

Ridley Scott was born in 1937, so he’s used to reading books, right? There weren’t any e-books back then. Unless Alan Turing was working on something I don’t know about, it’s absolutely certain that Ridley Scott wouldn’t buy e-books.
He’s also English. Don’t know where he lives now, but I, too, have relatives in England. I could have shit shipped their way to pick it up later. 

But here’s the real evidence: He directed Alien in 1979. That’s a year after I was born, just like he now purchased my book a year after it was born. Need more? Fine. Alien didn’t actually happen either. Like, none of it. He made the whole thing up! Just like I did!

And the big kicker?
Double checking his body of work on IMDb, I found he’s also the executive producer for something called Orpheus. Yeah, put that in your pipe and smoke it! (Unless you haven’t read the book yet, in which case, you should read it before smoking it.) Ridley Scott is looking to make a new movie and he bought my book for that!
Can you believe that? My first book, and it’s already getting filmed by a great director! 

Or somebody in England put the wrong book in their basket, and is now very disappointed.
Please leave a nice review, disappointed person. Promotion is a bitch.

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