Fuck readers

I write books to boost my own ego and have proof that I'm smart, not to spread ideas and discussion and happiness. Yes, I like it when Amazon sends me money, but it pisses me off when readers message me saying they enjoyed it. Yeah, I know, I incorporated the themes of free will and forgiveness and hard work really well, and all my characters have unique charm while still being relatable, and the plot is unpredictable on first read through but makes perfect sense the second. Yes, I put a lot of work into it. You don't have to tell me. Fuck off.

It pisses me off to no end to have people who enjoy what I do. The only reason I enjoy anything is because I'm the only one who enjoys it. The instant someone else barges in, reads my books, asks what I'm doing, goddammit. How dare someone pollute my pure thoughts and words with 'differing opinions' or 'interpretations'. Fuck the people I've inspired, inspiration is just another word for unoriginality.

I didn't always hate readers. When writing 'Veritogos', I always kept tabs with my three beta readers. They used to be such motivation. Always suggesting new ideas, telling me what they liked and disliked. Jamie, always the jokester, kept everything light. Helen kept everyone in line. And my fiance, Karen...agh.

But, well, they're gone now. And it's all my fault. All because I opened up a little too much. Told the wrong person the wrong thing. I don't even know if they're still alive.

So yeah, fuck readers. Allowing anyone to understand you will just lead to pain.

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