So long to Amber Quill and to having any books in print.
Let me start by at least trying to be civil and wishing everyone a “Happy New Year.” That being said and fully aware that with the beginning of a year, you’re supposed to be optimistic, to think about new possibilities, and to hope for the best, things sure do look cruddy at the moment. Amber Quill Press, the sole publisher that still had a novel of mine in print, Roman Hell, has officially announced it’s going out of business.
Why did a very successful Internet publisher go broke, one that only a short time before was making money and doing well? Because Amazon is an all-devouring, incredibly greedy, inhuman Cthulu monster hell bent on having a monopoly on any and every use of the written word for profit.
Amazon apparently will not be content until it has driven every independent publisher and book store out of business in the whole world. It’s always been incredibly difficult for a writer to even get published, much less get paid for writing. There’s a reason why 18th Century Britons referred to freelance writers as living on Grub Street. If Amazon has its way, the only writers who will ever get published are the ones with its approval. Most writers’ chances for positive public notice, recognition, and success will diminish to the point of negligibility. What will this gain Amazon, I must ask? Is the ultimate result of the Internet the paradoxical narrowing and closing off of the opportunity to write literature or just a plain old good yarn to only those with Amazon’s imprimatur? Who the hell elected Amazon book sheriff anyway? Can we please have a recount?
Thanks so much, Amazon, for putting me completely out of print. I really appreciate the help.
But they could never last this long.
On another complete bummer front, fate decided 2015 didn’t quite stink enough so it carried off Lemmy Kilmister, front man and soul of Motorhead, one of the greatest rock’n’roll bands I ever had the privilege to see. I don’t know how it worked out that way, but of the hundreds of bands I’ve seen over the years, Motorhead was the act I caught more than any other, at least a dozen times. Partly this was due to my enthusiasm for them, another factor was Lemmy’s tireless work ethic. Year after year, Motorhead toured worldwide. Lemmy was always in form, glad to be on stage, and his usual, irreverent, amusing headbanging self. I never once saw them give a bad show. Along with his distinctive, garbage disposal vocals and fluid, rhythm guitar inspired bass playing, Lemmy wrote some of the most aggressive, driving rock songs ever. Tunes like Over The Top, Bomber, Ace Of Spades, and other rippers basically invented speed metal and would provide great anthems for military units all over the world (You know we do it right, a different mission every night). If you never saw them and you dig rock’n’roll, you just have no idea what you missed. It’s a literal wonder of medical science that Lemmy endured as long as he did, given his chemical lifestyle, and I should be glad that I was around when he was. Still, I can’t help but feel that the world is a much poorer place without him. I know I’m going to miss him and I’m just a fan.
Oh, well, maybe next time I’ll have something cheerful to blog about.