M. B. P.- August.

BulletPoints

 

Never a dull moment. From a runaway criminal teen who hates her ‘wanted’ picture, to a heartless couple who beat on grandma, and the State of Alabama, being… well, the state of Alabama, followed by the State of Maine. Plus, a few other stories in between, it’s what’s in store for you this month.

Read On.

Mr. Blue-Book Review.

Mr Blue.ai

Mr. Blue: Memoirs of a Renegade.

By Edward Bunker.

I don’t know what happened to this book along the way, but it had a busload of typos, at least my Kindle copy did. I don’t mind the occasional typo here and there. I read a lot, so I come across typos and misspelled words all the time, it’s no biggie but, being a writer myself I know for a fact that this was not what the author intended,  maybe this happened in the formatting process? Still, you would think that an editor would’ve given it a second look or something. Hey! we all make mistakes. Onward…

With an IQ of 152, a broken home, and a penchant for trouble; career criminal Edward Bunker, aged seventeen, became the youngest inmate in San Quentin where he wrote his first novel No Beast So Fierce. Go read it now, I’ll wait…

Gutsy, gritty and hard-hitting memoirs don’t get any better than this. This ain’t a Hollywood, slash, Rock Star memoir written by a ‘ghost writer’ this is the author, taking pen to paper and telling his life story in the most straightforward way possible, he even warns us, about things and events being a little out of whack because He didn’t intend to write about it, and it’s the way he remembers what he went through, and boy-howdy did he go through a violent meat grinder. He offers an unflinching look at the often violent, and brutal realities of prison life while dropping his unique insight into what drives people to commit crimes; be it social hypocrisy, ignorance, drugs or mental problems, a crappy education system or a fallible justice system. It’s a miracle that Mr. Bunker didn’t become a sociopath, in the true sense of the word, like a serial killer, or worse (is there something worse than a serial killer?) I’m no shrink but I think that his salvation was due in great part to luck, a keen intellect, and his love for the written word. Mr. Bunker went on to become a prolific writer and actor. The Mr. Blue of the book title refers to the name of the character he played in the innovative Quentin Tarantino flick Reservoir Dogs.

‘A lotus definitely grows from the mud.’

Edward Bunker, born December 31, 1933; died July 19, 2005, R. I. P Mr. Bunker. R. I. P.

5 out of 5

Literary Tune Time.

Picture this: A young whipper snapper becomes enthralled by a video of four guys, inside an abandoned building. All wearing black (a fashion taste later adopted by the young man, much to his mother’s disdain, which still persist to this day) The four men in black, are armed with musical instruments, Marshall amps stacked in the back, and a killer double-bass drum kit. These four men dive into a song…

The song has been inspired by the novel Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo, which is about a horribly maimed World War I soldier. A specific passage that inspired this song is:

“How could a man lose as much of himself as I have and still live? When a man buys a lottery ticket you never expect him to win because it’s a million to one shot. But if he does win, you’ll believe it because one in a million still leaves one. If I’d read about a guy like me in the paper I wouldn’t believe it, cos it’s a million to one. But a million to ONE always leaves one. I’d never expect it to happen to me because the odds of it happening are a million to one. But a million to one always leaves one. One.”

The young man’s face melts, his worldview changes, as this is not a mere three chord punk tune. This is a different monster. So now, on a Sunday summer day, that’s hotter than high school love, this now, young-ish man decided to post the ‘jamming version’ of the song (as it is his favorite-no frills version) for all to enjoy. So enjoy One by Metallica. Crank it Up!

A note for Warner Bros. and Lars Ulrich:

As you can see I’ve been a huge Metallica fan (still are) I guess what I’m trying to say is: Don’t sue me for posting your music video on my site bro. Thanks.

Xoxo.

Verge.

Pimping Books—Part Due.

pimp-hatCaptain’s log; star date Sunday, August 07, 2016. I’ve entered the labyrinthine world of buying ads by clicking on Twitter ads, used a ‘Twitter web card’ I was prompted to make, and bought an ad for $2.00 a day, with the objective to run it for one week, on a budget of $10 a week. I’m still not sure if it went through, I thought Twitter was going to be easier that Google, maybe it is, regardless I’m still scratching my head over that one.

Captain’s log supplemental; star date Monday, August 08, 2016. Re-entered the labyrinthine world of buying ads by opening a Google AdWords account, which turned out to be easy. If you have a Google account already, you can use that one, which is what I did. Writing the ad, on the other hand, was limiting because they have an established amount of words you can type to write the ad, concise is the name of the game here. Once again, I started with $2.00 a day, which—if I understand this correctly—Google will charge only if a person clicks on the ad, I wanted to add a budget limit to this, but I couldn’t find how. We’ll see how it goes.

Captain’s log; star date Wednesday, August 10, 2016. After much digging, prodding and clicking on stuff, I finally managed to find the ads panel on Facebook. This social platform has been a navigational pain in the neck for me over the years, and they keep changing it, I’m guessing is because I have a ‘fan page’ and not a ‘personal page’? Anyway, got my credit card ready to put some of my hard-earned greenbacks into Mr. Zuckerberg’s pocket (Not like he needs any more) and skipped through a lot of instructional stuff (You’ll need a whole day to read it all) clicked-off the ABP, and I hit the create ad button. Then, that annoying circling loading signal from hell came on, waited, waited some more.  Logged out, logged in again, and the wheelie from hell keeps spinning and spinning on the ads manager page. I had to get ready for work, will probably try again some other time (that’s a big old maybe)—ugh.

Update: As of this posting, Google Ad Words has accepted my add, is up and running, so far I’ve had 17 clicks with a cost of $0.27 cents a click, which brings my total cost for today to $4.53 with zero sales. Although, this is a very interesting and exciting way for gathering interest for my book(s) this has proven to be a lot of work, work that requires time and patience, plus moolah. Truth be told; I’d rather be writing my next book.

Gotta keep, keeping on though.

Later!

Pimping Books.

pimp-hatA book pimp is essentially what a writer has to become in this day and age. Reductive? Heck, downright insulting, but it’s true. I love the freedom that self-publishing provides, I do this mainly because I love to write an entertaining good story, I don’t do it for fame, nor do I want fame, I don’t do it for money or poontang—God knows I get none of the above by doing this, but I’ve come to the realization that I’m essentially running a business, a business that’s bleeding money because I suck at pimping books.

Granted, I haven’t been in the game for long, but I’m starting to see why many a self-published writer drops the towel and quits the game. Writing the book is half the battle, promoting the thing, now there’s a skill no one tells you about—I don’t have it, because I never been a salesman, let alone a ‘self-promoter.’ I feel icky pushing what I write onto people’s faces, it can get frustrating, depressing and some would say ‘undignified.’

Blowjobs for reviews is no way to go through life (unless that’s your thing, in which case; carry on).

Why all the bellyaching you ask when all I have to do is pursue a deal with a ‘reputable’  gate keeper, eh…I mean; publisher? Lots of reasons, mainly I don’t think they’ll like what I write, I’m not a ‘literary’ guy, I write what entertains me and hopefully, is what will entertain the few folks who are kind enough to read my stuff. Publishers have the annoying tendency to tell writers what they should or should not write. They take more than they give; they hardly do any promotion, which is what a writer needs the most. The list goes on…and on.

I wish I had the promotional budget of the Coca-Cola Company to promote my books, because I run on a tight budget, I’m not rich (even though I spend most of my time at my job, hmm) So by the time I’m finished paying the editor/s, book formatter, securing a copyright, and buying images for the book cover. I’m left with zero budget for promotion, which sends the book into oblivion. I repeat: I never been a salesman, nor do I have the desire to become one, but it looks like I have to become that which I hate the most; a shameless fucking salesman. (No offence to those of you who are. A tip of the hat to you, that shit ain’t easy).

Hand jobs for a five star review on Amazon… sir? Madam? Gimp? Anybody…?

Truthfully, I’d rather be writing my next book. That being said, and after deciding to forgo a visit to the dentist (yet again)fingers cross, this upcoming Monday I’ll dip my toes into the murky waters of buying ads. So far I’ve learned that Twitter seems to be the easiest, Facebook on the other hand seems daunting, I hardly understand that platform as it is, hence the reason why I’m hardly on there—aside from the occasional post. I don’t even know how to join Facebook groups, or ‘like’ other people’s postings on it. Google AdWords seems to be the toughest, but hey, we’ll see how it goes.

How is this for my very first sales pitch? ‘Drop your knickers we got a book to sell!’ I hate myself already, stay tune for partie deux.

Great, now I want a Coke, and so do you. See what I mean?