My First Book Is Done

For a guy who makes his living putting the written word together, I'm uncharacteristically short of vocabulary right now. I can't guarantee that it will be popular, I can't guarantee that it will reach wide appeal or be considered a strong entry into the genre of dark fantasy, but I put 60,000 words onto the page and then refined until I could refine no more. If you've had skin in the writing game long enough, you'll know that sometimes that's the best situation you can be in.

As of the writing of this article, Hand of the Executioner is available for pre-order on Amazon and the sequel is very near to completion. This post is more a stream of consciousness that I'm writing for the occasion. Those who know me in my personal capacity will know that I'm not really one for pomp and ceremony, most certainly I detest streamers, birthday cake and only attend cocktail parties for those delicious tiny little sausages you never seem to find in any context outside of fucking cocktail parties.

It's a conspiracy. The 1% know where those fucking tiny little sausages are kept and they know how to get access to them, but Jeff Bezos and Elon Musk have teamed up to fuck you, over, dear reader. The only solution to this frankly disgusting display of corporate capitalism is to buy my book and immerse yourself in a breathing, living world and the tale of a darker, more psychotic sort of hero.

I'll be brutally honest in that I have high hopes for this series. My debut novel is as much a labour of love as it is a labour of everything I know about the craft I've chosen to dedicate my time to, and as much as the cynical part of me is waiting for the deluge of 1-star reviews delivered via the ever-recriminating format of arrows to the neck with passive-aggressive comments written on notes tied to the shafts, I have a fucking good feeling about this one.

That is all for now.