Hot Child in the City

It’s finally summer. Hooray.
Okay, this is the thing, I’m ticked off so you’re going to hear about it. Seems fair.
Good chance I’m not the only one annoyed so feel free to be pissed right along with me! 🙂
Pet peeve 1: Blogs by non-writers telling people how to write a book and stating shit like it’s a fucking rule. Okay, simmer down there, Toss-pot. There are no rules when it comes to writing a book.
I am tired of seeing people state what can and cannot be done within the frame work of a novel.
YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT just do it well! That’s the big secret … do it well!!
Pet peeve 2: Semi-colons. They can get in the fucking sea. I do not believe they are required or necessary ever. They are definitely not required in dialogue. What the actual fuck do you do with a semi-colon in dialogue? Personally I’d like to drown them all in the sea.
Pet peeve 3: People who don’t read. Buy a fucking book and enrich yourself.
Pet peeve 4: My neighbours. Clearly you have no social skills or reason for being, so get a job and/or go live away from people.
Pet peeve 5: People who expect me to be happy all the fucking time. Go away. No one is happy all the fucking time.
Pet peeve 6: This is a big one … listen up … ANYONE who asks me when Geoff and I will see each other next needs a fucking kick up the arse. I’m willing to do it. You know as much as we do about the current border situation. Shut up. It doesn’t help having you ask stupid questions. You’ll know when we can get together. THE WHOLE WORLD WILL KNOW. Until then, keep your mouth shut. It’s not like we don’t know how long it’s been.
Pet peeve 7: All the shit-arsed books I read over the holiday period. They were dreadful but I applaud the authors stickability at getting them written and published. I’ve seen your reviews and am very confused but hey, if that shit sells then there is hope for my work. You gave me hope even though I couldn’t finish the books because they were toilet paper. The peeve part is: how do shitty books seem to do so well?

I think I’m done here (for now). I have a tequila with my name on it and the paperbacks of [Nothing happens here] and that’s enough tonight.

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