Curiouser and
Curiouser
When completing a book manuscript I feel a tremendous sense of
gratification on several levels. That I finished it at all. That it is a
creative completion. That it is an offering made with thoughtfulness to
entertain and educate the reader. That it required discipline. That it will
read well for generations and that it is a statement of the times and of my
perspective being offered with some humility to contribute to the pool of
knowledge by which we may guide our lives to new dimensions of happiness and
continuity of joy.
Then the response. Nothing. My
neighbours haven’t read The Dead Sea
Revelation or Raising a Banner on a Path of Heart. Included
in this non-readership, my relatives.
Two of my neighbours actually returned the Banner book, unread. The library
claims of the two Dead Sea books, one was
stolen; and one was damaged but they haven’t reordered.
My neighbours and acquaintances like to introduce me as a famous
author – or at least an author – but that’s it. No readers.
I explore and write about human potential. And the absence of curiosity
about my work is telling its own tale.
I happen to believe I am now writing from the dark side of the
Doomsday Clock given that we as a species are facing the very real possibility
of annihilating ourselves as we continue to strike an imbalance thanks to the
wealth-addicted one-percenters. I wrote Leonardo DiCaprio, head of a New York
This across-the-board disinterest is getting curiouser and
curiouser. In a depressing way. For more than ten years I have been e-zining
this English Bay Banner and there have been almost no comments posted.
