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| The (slightly) Evil Dr. Emile Schmitt-Rottluff. |
Dr. Emile Schmitt-Rottluff.
Dear
readers;
Here at Shalako
Publishing and Long Cool One Books,
not to mention our recently-launched sister company, Larga Fresca Uno Libros, we’ve been on the internet for about six
years.
That’s not very long at all, is it?
At the time, we had six unpublished manuscripts, not
much skill and very little knowledge, either about publishing or even readers.
That may seem odd, considering that we are readers ourselves, but of course our
own personal taste doesn’t mean a thing in the marketplace.
What matters is what other people want to read.
Otherwise we would be writing entirely for our own
vanity, and the audience for that sort of thing is rather limited.
After six years, a bit of a progress report would
appear to be in order.
We have fourteen novels, and five different
pen-names. We have something like thirty novellas in a slew of genres. We have
sold short stories and given them away. We have read, and listened to many
experts and authors of long standing and acknowledged stature, and we have distributed
or sold over 70,000 books and ebooks. We have been published in seven
languages, and published our own works in three. We’ve even had some small
interest from more traditional publishers; not that we care to dwell on that or
over-analyze.
We have created something like, shit, a hundred and twenty or a
hundred and thirty products in six years.
And the sky is our oyster, an old
Chinese proverb, one which I just made up out of expedience.
We reckon we’re doing all right, although there is
always more to do—accept another challenge, question another authority,
contradict another pundit, send up another genre, or merely unmask and uncloak
another pompous chimera.
Hell, ladies and gentlemen, if things get bad
enough, we might even write another book.
***
We have upgraded our skills, our knowledge and our
processes.
We have six years of experience as independent
authors and publishers.
We have been blooded.
We have been tested, and not found wanting, and when
we were found wanting, we fixed it.
And then we came back for some more.
We are wanting no more, ladies and gentlemen.
 |
| "Any questions?" |
***
Knowledge
is power.
Power
is money.
And
money is sex.
Any
questions so far?
***
We have met the enemy, and as usual, the enemy is
us, and in something that doesn’t happen to everyone, we seem to have defeated
our enemy, (those internal chimeras we all have and cling to with such
tenacity) and to have earned our stripes in spite of all that, ladies and
gentlemen.
For that reason, as well as other valid reasons, the
time has come to pitch the fourteen year-old Pentium II Microsoft clone. Her
job is done, and old Besty can go to her grave with a clear conscience.
She gave her all, and she will either be quickly
forgotten or remembered with a curse of anything but affection.
Such is life—
Good riddance and thank Darwin for that, ladies and
gentlemen.
Phase
I is complete.
Let
Phase II begin.
Which it will, very, very shortly.
If nothing else, new hardware and new software
represent a new learning curve. All of that is going to be connected up to Louis’ head, ladies and gentlemen.
But then, the readers
are getting smarter with every passing day.
We would be fools not to pay attention to that,
ladies and gentlemen.
(P.S. Never mention this post to Louis, or the block
will be broken and the poor fellow, who thinks he’s doing this all on his own,
would be absolutely crushed.)
Essentially, I plan on embedding a terabyte of hard-drive
and 8 gig of RAM into the boy’s skull, plus a few other system and software
upgrades.
And, as usual, we’re going to make him do all the
work, while we sit back and laugh at his torment, and in a final twist of
irony, we going to let him think he is under-appreciated,
ladies and gentlemen.
The only thing he gets out of it is the odd Happy
Meal and the toy out of my box of Cracker-Jacks. I’m a bit old for that sort of
thing anyways, but then I was old when they built the pyramids. As for myself, all I get is Stella and one or two other sturdy little hench-women.
We shall just have to make do, eh?
Heh-heh-heh.
(Ahem. -- ed.)
Thank
you and goodbye.
The (slightly) Evil
Dr. Emile Schmitt-Rottluff.
END
Hey,
check this out, ladies and gentlemen: my
boy Louis on iTunes.
