I’ve been giving some thought to my readership of late. Trying to determine who they are and who likes what I write, finding out any common traits between them all. I reached a certain conclusion after a while. (It’s really easy to figure them out when I only seem to have about 6 or 7 readers, after all, LOL!)
Most of all, they’re individuals with a great positive outlook of life, smart, sensitive and with a very special trait that sets them apart from everyone else. Forget all about suspension of disbelief, which is very hard to achieve by itself; when I write, I ask my readers for a harder task than just a simple suspension of disbelief. I’m asking them to shed away the stuffed-shirt attitude that grown-ups like to wear around. I’m asking them to become a child again, to be able to guffaw openly at a very silly and really absurd joke. These people, my readers, are able to rediscover their inner child on a whim; I found this out by watching, very closely, their Facebook posts, their Twitter conversations, et cetera. Regrettably, they are very, very few. Some people just can’t make this particular trip. They like the façade of adulthood, completely unable to connect with the kid I’m asking them to become. They just read politely the first pages of my work and then drop it. Some even put my books in their “couldn’t-finish” shelves. They just can’t go with the flow. They’re (as they like to consider themselves) SERIOUS readers.
Too bad… They really don’t have what it takes to truly enjoy my books.
They simply can’t make the trip.
Did you enjoy this silly rambling? Go out there and buy yourselves a copy of my second novel, Eco Station One, and you’ll get 260 pages of stuff like this.
Edwin Stark Signing off.