An Utterly Shameless Appeal

I’m told it’s very bad form for an author to plead with the public to buy his books. But is it just as bad to implore people to get their family, friends, neighbors, and casual acquaintances to buy them? Yeah, probably…

But I am also told that I must be my own publicist–rather like taking out my own appendix. I have neither the knowledge nor the talent for this role.

Look, if you’re already among the few, the proud who have bought these fershlugginer things, you are excused from reading this–although I would greatly appreciate it if you somehow compelled others to buy. But for those of you who hang around here and haven’t yet obtained any copies of my books–hey! Come on! Don’t you realize you’re allowing me to be outsold by all sorts of dreck about teenage vampires and witches and necromancers, etc.? Aren’t you ashamed of that?

This is Lee the Publicist talking, not Lee the Writer. Lee the Publicist is something of an idiot. Lee the Writer stands utterly aloof from this shameless appeal for sales. It’s all the Publicist’s doing. Honest!

But if by some unlikely chance it works… well, then I’ll take credit for it.