For some reason my spellchecker keeps reverting back to its place of origin, U.S. So I apologize beforehand for any Zs that creep into today's blog.
So...where is the ML monster at the minute? I hear you cry, reaching for the large bottle of pills and vodka. Well, since you ask, I'll tell you. I'm in a very weird state of limbo. I've been writing solidly for almost two years, and now FBK3 is out, and I have to prepare the synopsis for my next book, I'm just kind of hanging around. The synopsis doesn't need to be submitted until later in the month, and I don't want to start writing another ebook before then. So I'm sort of thinking and twiddling at the moment.
As I wrote in my last blog, I would love the publishers to take the next book. But it seems strange already. As you know I work from one basic idea and model the plot and characters from there. An ebook can be as long or short as you like. So planning an entire book in advance has been a little weird, but enjoyable nevertheless. Having said that, the idea is absolutely brilliant, if I do say so myself. In fact it leaves me a little worried about my own imagination.
I actually have two books fully planned out. If the publishers take them, then they'll be incredible works of art. If they say "no, bugger off" then they will be hobbled-together ebooks like my readers love, and have grown to expect from me. Either way the readers win.
The Facebook Killer: Parts 1,2 & 3 are all in the Amazon Top 20 of Horror. Part 2 is actually now outselling Part 1 at around 60 copies a day. 1 & 2 are still in the Apple Top 100 and FBK3 is still going through the publishing process, but will hopefully take the Number One slot again when it's eventually Apple-ized.
I telephoned Spain last week, and my villa is still there, as is Rooney the cactus. I feel like an absent father. Apparently he has grown two extra needles in my absence and I wasn't even there to witness it.
I've decided to apply to take part in the next series of the UK's Dragons' Den. I'm going to pretend to have invented a revolutionary new machinegun. Obviously the Dragons will take the piss out of me when they realise it's the same as any other machinegun, but that's when I'll steal their huge piles of money, leaving them with zero equity. I can just see it now. When I get back downstairs in my ski mask, Britain's strangest-looking television presenter will say to me, "So, M.L, it seemed to go pretty well up there, and you got all the money you came for. Well done."
On the subject of Dragons' Den, I've written the basis for a literary version. The panel of investors would be publishers, a rich author, and me, of course. Then wannabe authors would turn up and pitch their book. I would be a little like Duncan Ballantyne and never invest, just pull stupid faces and yawn a lot. But I think it would be a hit show. You would have to explain why your book is different from anyone else's, so the authors of vampire books would immediately get a hard time from JK Rowling. Me? I'd just yawn and pull a face. You would have to bring your own desk to the studio, and dress in the exact same manner as when you write. Can you imagine? You would have thriller writers in their underwear, a bottle of whisky in front of them and a full ashtray, romance authors with a cat on their lap and a cup of decaf, and a science fiction writer wearing his Darth Vader suit whilst surrounded by his inspirational army of galactic characters.
Am I rambling again? Yes I am. Sorry. Anyway, I must get back to the synopsification of my future books. And I know what you're all thinking. You, ML, are a little like Van Gogh. You won't be famous until you're dead...and I can't wait.
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