Whose Are Bigger? (sorta/really NSFW mini-rant)

fast-freds-70-chevelle-454-muscle-car-big Woke this morning, feeling sluggish, not looking to jump into writing, so I cruised FB groups (like you do). I found a mini-drama-queen rant (by the poster’s own admission) that castigated the replacement of worthy, intelligent authorial discussions amongst group members into promos featuring bad grammar and … truly dreadful indie titles. A deluge, a tsunami, a plethora of indie spam.

keep_calm_and_focus_on_browbeating_ipad_sleeve-r6feaae7f9e0f4ef1a0d5860a47f6d243_2itsr_8byvr_398 The comments included roundly dissing all indie authors as being of little merit (oh hell, he meant NO merit), that it’s all tripe and indies can’t buy themselves a genuine publishing contract, so naturally they are unworthy… Yada, yada, yada.

c478b5686d17725e5e90deb6a1dc3068 There was a comment suggesting going promo-free if the adverts so offend one’s intellectual sensibilities, followed by a suggestion that painting all independently published authors with the same brush was … well, basically not cool.

401119_483269108409152_2515 He came back accusing the commenter of being this … a “dick”.

(I warned you, you might want to look at the pic a few more times to be sure it’s really NSFW)

TToolMan Which pretty much makes him this…

Whew, good to have all that name-calling out of the way.

DoNotJudge A final thought for the day…

About Nya Rawlyns

Crossing boundaries, taking no prisoners. Write what’s in your soul. It’s the bass beat, the heartbeat, the lyrics rude and true. Nya Rawlyns is the pseudonym of a writer who cut her teeth on sports-themed romantic comedy and historical romances before finding her true calling in the wilderness areas she has visited but calls “home” in that place that counts the most: the heart. She has lived in the country and on a sailboat on the Chesapeake Bay, earned more than 1000 miles in competitive trail and endurance racing, taught Political Science to unwilling freshmen, and found an avocation in materials science. When she isn’t tending to her garden or the horses, the cats, or two pervert parakeets, she can be found day dreaming and listening to the voices in her head.