You’re probably wondering why my debut novel, Dancing Down Under Part 2, failed to catch on with the public at-large. I’m not confused one bit, since I know the real reason people skipped it in favor of lesser forms of entertainment.
It wasn’t the size of it. 1200 pages is the same length as the Bible and most of you have no issue committing that text to memory.
Nor was it was the complicated plot points. Some reviewers didn’t understand why the protagonist was named Salvator in Chapter 1, Samuel in Chapter 2, and Jumping John throughout. Look, I studied literature at a very high level. Being confused is part of what makes a great book. You’re not supposed to understand everything.
Had people judged it by its cover, then the book would be on the bestseller list right now.
There was hardly any outcry that none of the narrative took place in Australia. “Down Under” implied an office building sub-basement, or hell.
The lack of dancing wasn’t an issue. This is a book, not a movie.
While some of my initial readers found the words “Part 2” dangerous and dishonest, I said that it worked for Georgie Lucas, so why not me?
The preponderance of typos due to my inability to find a good editor only added to the story’s earthiness. This was written by a fallible human being and not some robot Shakespeare.
The real reason people ignored the stack of books sitting in front of one of Port Authority’s many public restrooms is personal. The stupid people didn’t buy books. Smart people did, but how many of are there? Fifteen, twenty, maybe thirty in the whole country. That’s just not enough to sustain a career based on peerless artistry and pure originality.
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