I’ve decided not to overanalyze anything to do with the response to my recent book release. As there is nothing really controversial in Fried Windows I don’t expect a lot of fallout from anything I have written. Maybe I stretched my imagination a little more than usual, at least as much as I bent the truth, but it’s intention was mainly harmless fun. I’m not sure why my friends aren’t flocking to read it, but that’s okay. Mostly my friends never paid that much attention to anything I said before I started writing. So why should it be different now?
Anyway, part of becoming an authors is seeking new friends. They’re called readers. The reason is not to discard and replace old friends but to acquire followers as a supplement to those who have known the author since before… Unlike old friends, the new friends find it easy to become fans. Why shouldn’t they? They know an intimate part of the author, what he or she writes. I’m not sure every old friend can become an avid follower and reader of an author. It may have something to do with being there in high school and knowing the real story. Old friends saw the stupid crap we did. They were the ones carrying our drunken asses to dorm rooms in college. They were the ones we confessed any number of things to here and there along the way.
Family isn’t much better as as source of readers. There are exceptions, but most buy an authors book out of familial obligation. Few ever read the book all the way through. Those who do probably deserve a medal for perseverance. I get that.
You see, like friends, family knows us for our flaws and secrets. They know some things abut us better than friends because they share a genetic identity. They understand our special level of crazy because they were not only there with us while growing up together but also they have some of the same traits.
Like fiends, relatives hear a real voice when they read our words in print. Sometimes that is at least unsettling. I suppose it can be unnerving, especially when reading a fictional account that seems kind of familiar. Moreover, family is used to giving us advice, not necessarily hearing concoct long, convoluted stories that may actually make some sense – especially when those stories come pretty darned close to revealing things that really happened to this or that other family member.
In Fried Windows I have tried not to borrow too much from reality. But there are some situations that some might recall. The book is a fantasy, though. There are always pieces of an author’s life that find their ways into a book. That why names are changed to protect the author as much as anyone else. The parts that borrow from real life distort the facts enough to be mostly idle fabrication.
On balance, I think I’ll gain friends from having written the book. I doubt I’ll lose any friends along the way – I hope not. I wrote the book to be a fun read and I think it accomplishes that. I wanted it to change the way every reader looks at the world around them. Maybe it does that. For those who will read it, please let me know what you think. And yes, there is much more of Brent’s story left to be told.