My lower back is a barometer of my mental health and right now it’s telling me to get off the internet for a while. I’m not complaining about the usual stuff: everybody on the internet is an idiot, it’s all useless information…. it’s one dumb argument after another….
No! I can deal with the idiots and tune out the nonsense. I’ve “met” so many bright people, and learned so much that otherwise would have been difficult to learn. These people have given me a shot in the arm. Learning that I’m not alone in my disgust at the madness of the current regime is heartening. But there’s another side to the internet: through it, I’ve learned that our society is crazier than I ever thought and that’s depressing.
I live in the heart of middle-class Manhattan. If you think that all Manhattan is the world of “Sex In The City,” think again. My class is a strange island of Eisenhower-era morals. Everyone in my circle is a centrist liberal, married, most have kids. I see now that we are modern versions of 19th Century Whigs, unaware of the revolution about to sweep away their cozy world.
It’s good to learn the truth, but the benefits of truth, like medicine, depend on the dose. Not enough is not enough. Too much can kill you. It’s killing me. I need to regroup.
Before I sign off, I would like to make an offer to my few but choice followers on Twitter and here on Substack: review copies of my two-volume speculative novel, Technium.
Selling just a few copies is more trouble than it’s worth. I’d rather get reviews—reviews generate real sales. And if you accept, I’d require an honest review and a blurb if you have any internet presence. Even if it’s not a five-star review. I think an honest mixed review is better than a five-star “OMG, this is awesome!”
When I began writing in 2014, I kept saying to myself, “Don’t go too far, you don’t want anyone to say, ‘That could never happen. You’re writing literature, not the scenario for a B movie’.”
The premise of the book was crazy enough: a futuristic world in which an all male-Janissary-type caste took over. Cohorts of sons (only sons are allowed to survive) are bred via artificial reproductive technology between “Alphas” and surrogates. The ART is crude, not Huxley-ish sophisticated.
It was an unpleasant premise, so I didn’t want to push it too far….
Ha! If I have one piece of advice to writers it’s this: “Go too far. The world will catch up with you.”
Amazon links:
I’m providing only the Amazon links so that you can read the blurbs and take advantage of the “look inside” feature.
If you’re interested, DM me at Twitter or email me at “techniumbook at gmail dot com” specifying which format you prefer.