Everyone Likes Free Stuff

So my publishing experiment recently proffered some sort of results. To fill you in, I decided to write a collection of utterly ridiculous short stories and then publish them on the Kindle with minimal marketing and see how many people actually downloaded it. Funnily enough no one did. Strange really.

I originally wanted to upload it for free, but Amazon didn’t like that and said I had to at the very least charge $0.99 for it. This wasn’t too bad I supposed, as I would get $0.29 for each copy sold, I would only have to sell roughly 21 copies to buy a cup of coffee (maybe 25 if we take the exchange rate into consideration – which I sort of have to, as this morning when I tried to pay for my coffee in rupees they told me on no uncertain terms that I had to leave). I personally feel we ought to return to the bartering system. I have lots of useless junk lying around that I’m sure I could trade for caffeine. Anyway, I’m getting side-tracked.

My collection, entitled “The Tiny Compendium of Ridiculousness” sold 2 copies in it’s first month, but I’m fairly certain one of them was my Nan, and she didn’t quite get it. Fortunately, my nan isn’t my target audience.

After a period of stagnation I found that for a five day period I could enrol my book in some sort of promotion, which altered the price a little for this limited time.

Within those five days I managed to shift 22 copies! I finally achieved my coffee benchmark, where I could stroll into my coffee chain of choice, demand an overly priced latte and pay for it with my royalties. Or at least I would have been able to, had the promotion not made my book free to download (my original intention, stupid Amazon).

Within this period I picked up a 5 star review. It states as follows:

“A fabulous collection of short stories. Rich in detail, well written and showing a remarkable ability to push a joke to the very edge without feeling a sense of being overused.

The addition of an ‘afterword’ by the perfectly named Henry Pretension offers a perfect satire of those stuffy English Literature professors you will encounter that analyse far too much but say too little.

The stories are varied enough to keep your interest; and they are short enough to read whenever you have a spare moment.

It is well worth the price.”

Considering it was free I can’t help, but feel a little stung by the last line, as that means all my hard work is worth nothing, and I refuse to believe that. As previously stated, I seem to believe it’s worth at least a coffee.

“What is the point of this post?” I hear you ask.

Well, in answer to that… shameless self-advertisement really. Now that the book is no longer free, I at least have a 5 star review, and can say it’s been read by 2 people in Germany, and if they found it amusing, even slightly, then it’s got to be doing something right. Buy it. it’s 99 cents (about 75p?), it’s not going to bankrupt you. even if you hate it what does it matter? It boosts my ego, so you’d have done your good deed for the day.  I know everyone loves free stuff, and if I could I’d give it to you for free (though that’s probably a lie), but come one, quit being stingy. Give me some money. I mean all I want is to start a literary career in which I can eventually earn enough to never work again, drink champagne all day and eventually die in some sort of orgy. Is that so much to ask?

The link will appear several times, do not mistake this for pushy salesmanship, but rather a technical inability to work WordPress.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tiny-Compendium-Ridiculousness-Hubert-Watergipridget-ebook/dp/B00NX63R1W

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tiny-Compendium-Ridiculousness-Hubert-Watergipridget-ebook/dp/B00NX63R1W

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tiny-Compendium-Ridiculousness-Hubert-Watergipridget-ebook/dp/B00NX63R1W

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tiny-Compendium-Ridiculousness-Hubert-Watergipridget-ebook/dp/B00NX63R1W

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tiny-Compendium-Ridiculousness-Hubert-Watergipridget-ebook/dp/B00NX63R1W

Despise Change, but Hate the Everyday.

Pretentious title I know, but I like contradictory statements or oxymorons, they please me. Anyway, I feel that my obsession with doodles is some what reflective of a low state of mind. Not because they’re ‘out there’ or ‘messed up’ that people often like to claim to be when they’re definitely not, in a vain attempt to seem interesting. More because I tend to doodle most when overly anxious or taken by a miserable bastard kind of mood.

Many figures throughout history, when taken by such a mood create musical masterpieces, or paint glorious pictures or write works that last through the ages. I draw stick men in various situations and try to pass it off as ‘wit’. However, it’s easy to pass things off as wit, you just have to say it with a certain level of smugness or tilt your head to the side a little. Because I no longer have a scanner, I have taken pictures on my phone, and emailed them to myself and then uploaded them here, so the quality will be (as we say in the art world) shit.

Anyway, this piece is called “The Generational Gap.”

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The young and the old are destined never to understand one another . To one, eating a banana is a fairly mundane thing. to the other, it’s worthy of a ‘good ole fashioned axin’.’

This is called “The Hunt For the Loch Ness Monster”

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Turned out to be easier than the scientists first thought. They didn’t even get to unload their fancy equipment. Typical.

“Waiting for a Bus!”

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Because let’s face it, if you were Death, where would you choose to stand? Think of all those OAP’s with free bus passes, it saves him lots of time.

“Bendy Man Walks On Tiny Legs Whilst Whistling a Tune.”

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That’s pretty much it, not all art has multiple layers.

“Pyramid of Necessity.”

pyramid of necessity

The Beatles once sang “All You Need Is Love.” Bet they didn’t have to do a proper day’s work in their life, the lazy bastards.

“An Empty Day”
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I made this partially 3D, so it get’s marks for trying.

I’ll leave you with this. As I have to rely on public transport I spend a lot of time waiting for buses, the below is an angry email which I sent to one bus company. I have yet to receive a reply, but I’m cautiously optimistic that I will see justice served.

From:
Sent: 03 November 2015 20:37:38
To:

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Dear Lord Of All Buses,

I am a simple man, a humble man if you will. I want to do what is best for Planet Earth, which is currently my place of residence. I never learned to drive, thinking (perhaps arrogantly at the time) that I would forego the needless ritual of driving lessons. I did so under the impression that, not only will I have a lesser “carbon footprint” than most, but I would also save money and save myself from wasting hour after hour searching in vain for a place to park.

I have saved no money. Alas, rather than wasting hours looking for a place to park, I appear to be wasting numerous hours of my life awaiting the arrival of your elusive buses. £30 pound a week is no small sum, it is a sum that could purchase me a large amount of flapjack, and I love flapjack. For such a price I expect a good service. Several times your buses have failed to turn up at all, they are almost always late. I assume when creating your time table you take in to consideration variables such as traffic. 5 minutes late is fine, ten minutes is frustrating but sometimes inevitable.  Any more than 25 is taking the proverbial pee.

It is my suggestion, that you either lower your price to better represent the service, or replace all your timetables with a sign saying ‘Your Guess Is As Good As Ours.’

Waiting for many hours for a bus is probably not what Blaise Pascal (inventor of the bus service; if Wikipedia is to be believed – which of course it isn’t) had in mind. He’d be disgusted, and he’s French, he could take disgusted to the next level.

Now, I am not a vengeful man (or woman, you don’t know!) but, if I do not see improvements soon, I will have to come down to your headquarters and defecate upon the floor, with a rather stern expression. My diet is very fibrous, so I suggest – as I suggest to everyone – that you work hard to please me.

Yours Sincerely,

An Anonymous Man (Whose name isn’t in his – or her- email address)