After a test read with about 30 people, I’ve concluded that my new novel, The Optimist & the Pessimist, isn’t worthy of my readers’ time or money. The general reaction to it has been “mildly amusing”, which just doesn’t make the grade.
So much for my experiment with a longer, more complex humor book. Apparently, my mostly female audience prefers the wacky, immature me, which is really quite strange, considering that’s exactly the me that has irritated the hell out of so many women over the years. Go figure.
At any rate, after a year of experimenting with slightly more serious works, I guess it’s time to roll out all those stories that I know are going to make my poor old mother blush. Forgive me, Mommy.