Dear Alysha - Nø. 3





     KNOCK-[BEEPING]-KNOCK.
     Are you there? Are you alive?
     Oh my god, did an alien land in your backyard, and because it wouldn’t play fetch with Dagwood, the little wiener barked to the point that the extraterrestrial being became overwhelmed with rage, and ate you since hot dogs aren’t a suitable energy substance? 

*GASP* (Hmmm . . . I feel I can do better than that. (Makes mental note to step it up next time.)
   
     So seriously, I [BEEPING] miss you. I was just thinking the other day about how much time we used to spend badmouthing horribly written books with lackluster stories, and the authors who wrote them. Of course, this was all very private, very catty, but loads of fun.
     I miss Bec going on her tirades about the erotic bullshit she feeds her brain. I miss when she verbally uses the craptastic phrasing from said novels, and we bust her female balls (very big ones, mind you) about it.
     How many hours did we waste on such fun? Probably more than we want to really think about; on second thought - don’t.
    The reviewing thing is going well. I mean, I don’t read as often as I’d like. Thankfully, Angie reads 3 times more than I do, so she holds the blog up for me while I mosey my way through books. Anyway, the process of adding the reviews on the blog has become mechanical for me; she starts the draft with all the information, and then I go in, add code and bada bing - posted. However, since I started this adventure of reading, reviewing, and then posting, I’ve noticed that more and more authors post these long, long bio’s about their life (author website excluded). These histories of how they became writers (that is sometimes cool, but they often drag it out), dogs, cats, kids, husbands, ex-husbands, education, where they live, blah, blah, blah. I feel like the only thing most of these bios are missing is: I like chocolate milk, or I do bad things behind closed doors, or death to Cersei Lannister.

Scratch that. I feel like I’m going to come across bios that do have those things. Except the Cersei Lannister thing, I am going to totally add that to my bio on here. 
   
     Yet the more author bios I read, the more I ask myself: What the fuck are they selling, themselves, or the stories they write? I mean, I’m totally guilty of judging a book by its cover, literally, but I’ve never, ever looked up a author’s information to help me decide if I want to read their book or not. Is it wrong that I don’t care what college they attended? I mean, going to Harvard doesn’t make them a great fiction writer; it doesn’t tell me if I’m going to like their newly released and much talked about novel. It makes them educated in whatever field they’ve graduated in. Is it in anyway bad to feel like authors are more interested in giving us their life history than giving us a decent blurb? I mean, that is what sells me on a book. I would think that is what sells most people. Shouldn’t the blurb (and cover, BUT that is an overdone topic) really be the most important?
     Am I expected as a reviewer to copy and paste the 32,146,541 word “about self” on my blog when I am reviewing their books? Would you expect that if I reviewed one of your books? Is it wrong that I shorten them and remove what I deem unimportant? I just need a different perspective. Sometimes I want to do away with the whole “About the author” section on the post. So, I’ve turned to you, my dear friend. Help a sister out.
     Oh, one more question. Would it be wrong of me to start editing the bios for grammar and punctuation errors?

Let’s not take forever to reply (laughing out loud),
X O X O X O



 

A L Y S H A ' S   R E P L Y

"While I fade in and out of lucidity on my couch I'm re-watching American Horror Story Coven and boy does it make me think of you. All those conversations we had over stories, our own and others, fact and fiction. I miss your fucking face. I miss our chats. We shall get them back. It also makes me think of my own work but that's a conversation for another day. . . ." R E A D   M O R E
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