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It might be very good...

Slackjawed Cow

I laugh at them because they're all the same.
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261,468
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73,094
I’ve never seen someone put so much emphasis on word count before this buffoon. It’s a real artistic integrity he has. Eyes on the prize. Don’t let things like story structure or narrative get in the way. No, you hit that word count for some reason.
A self imposed word count, too. Reminder: no one is paying Pat to write this.
 

stealthygeek

Reminder: Vincent D'Onofrio blocked Patrick
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49,820
I’ve never seen someone put so much emphasis on word count before this buffoon. It’s a real artistic integrity he has. Eyes on the prize. Don’t let things like story structure or narrative get in the way. No, you hit that word count for some reason.
Rick has hosted convention panels specifically talking about nothing but word count. Even in the autistic world of self publishing he has a notable autistic need for putting up da numbahs. Patrick S Tomlinson is mentally ill.
 

TorquieTwoBeers

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25,406
His sci-fi writing was so bad and unappealing that his publisher let him go freely to write on spec. So after six books, shifting to a completely different genre is sure to be a success, right?

It cannot be stressed enough how bad this idea is. Imagine if someone pitched this to you: "My new book has the Cowardly Lion going back to Oz and totally fawkin shit up, bro! He destroys the Wizard!!!!". Utter dogshit.
 

SensibleKeks

Forum Clout
20,038
His sci-fi writing was so bad and unappealing that his publisher let him go freely to write on spec. So after six books, shifting to a completely different genre is sure to be a success, right?

It cannot be stressed enough how bad this idea is. Imagine if someone pitched this to you: "My new book has the Cowardly Lion going back to Oz and totally fawkin shit up, bro! He destroys the Wizard!!!!". Utter dogshit.
This stupid premise of a grown up Tiny Tim solving mysteries has been done before.

644154.jpg


Mr. Timothy​

Louis Bayard

3.61
2,638 ratings386 reviews


It's the Christmas season, and Mr. Timothy Cratchit, not the pious child the world thought he was, has just buried his father. He's also struggling to bury his past as a cripple and shed his financial ties to his benevolent "Uncle" Ebenezer by losing himself in the thick of London's underbelly. He boards at a brothel in exchange for teaching the mistress how to read and spends his nights dredging the Thames for dead bodies and the treasures in their pockets.

Timothy's life takes a sharp turn when he discovers the bodies of two dead girls, each seared with the same cruel brand on the upper arm. The sight of their horror-struck faces compels Timothy to become the protector of another young girl, Philomela, from the fate the others suffered at the hands of a dangerous and powerful man.

A different kind of Christmas story, this breathless flight through the teeming markets, shadowy passageways, and rolling brown fog of 1860s London would do Dickens proud for its surprising twists and turns, and its extraordinary heart.
 

DeadWithoutMyDavid

xe/xim/xey
Forum Clout
39,358
This stupid premise of a grown up Tiny Tim solving mysteries has been done before.

644154.jpg


Mr. Timothy​

Louis Bayard

3.61
2,638 ratings386 reviews

It's the Christmas season, and Mr. Timothy Cratchit, not the pious child the world thought he was, has just buried his father. He's also struggling to bury his past as a cripple and shed his financial ties to his benevolent "Uncle" Ebenezer by losing himself in the thick of London's underbelly. He boards at a brothel in exchange for teaching the mistress how to read and spends his nights dredging the Thames for dead bodies and the treasures in their pockets.

Timothy's life takes a sharp turn when he discovers the bodies of two dead girls, each seared with the same cruel brand on the upper arm. The sight of their horror-struck faces compels Timothy to become the protector of another young girl, Philomela, from the fate the others suffered at the hands of a dangerous and powerful man.

A different kind of Christmas story, this breathless flight through the teeming markets, shadowy passageways, and rolling brown fog of 1860s London would do Dickens proud for its surprising twists and turns, and its extraordinary heart.
If Pat manages to publish this, Mr Bayard will be notified.
 
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