Post pencil scribbling

I decided to do another painting (since I've got almost a whole hour to myself).

Here it is as I painted it.

    And here, with the gmic filters. It's amazing that such wonderful things are still free.

    



    It's been almost eight months since I published my new novel. To no fanfare since I had decided to check whether the rumoured Amazon algorithm for low volume selling authors was real.

    It seems that it is. One a good month I used to sell up to 100 novels. But as soon as that dropped to single figures I think they put my books in a dark locked box, as we're not making them millions, never to be heard of again. To that end I never (really) told anyone that I'd completed a new novel and as a result I've sold the magnificent number of zero copies. One side of me doesn't really care since I just love writing purely for it's own sake. Another side of me resents it since if nobody knows it's on Amazon's (virtual) shelves, then how are we going to shift any books? But then from the extensive research I've performed on the subject, I've barely heard of anyone who makes back what they forked out in publicity, back in sales.

    Bah, humbug, you might say. If you can't be bothered to tell people that you're writing, then how are you actually going to sell anything.

    That's true, but I gave up on being rich from writing almost as soon as I'd begun. So now, the new one that's been burning a hole in my brain will begin. Funnily enough its almost entirely written, albeit in my head, but as a lifelong panster, I doubt the final product will bear even the slightest similarity to what brewing in the murky sludge of my peculiar imagination.