Tag: writing

Are Premium Writing Tools Worth the Investment?

Writers with a lifelong passion for the written word and the craft of storytelling often recognize the importance of using the right tools to bring their ideas to life. For those who have explored genres ranging from psychological thrillers with dark, erotic edges to humorous works like my work in progress, “The Big Beautiful Book of Stupid Shit,” every project demands a unique approach. Expensive writing tools—designed to refine grammar, enhance prose, and assist with plot development—are becoming an integral part of the writing process. But are they worth the investment for seasoned writers? Let’s explore.
Why Consider Premium Writing Tools?
Writers who are equally fascinated by both the arts and technology often look for ways to combine these passions to improve their craft. Writing tools have evolved far beyond basic spell checkers and are now sophisticated programs capable of analyzing tone, identifying plot holes, and suggesting improvements to elevate any piece of writing.
For authors who work on a wide range of projects—whether humorous critiques, science fiction adventures, or dark psychological thrillers—these tools serve as a valuable second pair of eyes. They ensure that stories remain polished, engaging, and free of errors.
How Writing Tools Can Help (and Where They Shine)
Expensive writing tools offer several features that make them worth the investment. Here’s how they can enhance different aspects of writing:
Grammar and Clarity
Even the most experienced writers can miss grammatical errors, unclear sentences, or awkward phrasing. Tools like Grammarly Premium or ProWritingAid go beyond simple corrections by analyzing sentence structure, suggesting concise alternatives, and highlighting overused phrases. For example, in a psychological thriller, where every word must carry weight, having a tool that ensures clarity is invaluable.
Style and Tone Analysis
Capturing the right tone is crucial in writing. Tools like Hemingway Editor make sure that the writing is accessible and punchy, pointing out overly complex sentences and passive voice. AI-driven tools like Sudowrite take this further by suggesting stylistic changes to match the intended tone, whether it’s sharp wit, emotional vulnerability, or urgent tension.
Plot Development and Story Structure
Writing intricate narratives, such as science fiction or thrillers, often comes with the challenge of spotting plot holes or inconsistencies. Tools like Campfire Pro or Plottr allow writers to map out their stories, track character arcs, and identify gaps in the plot. These tools are particularly helpful when dealing with multi-layered storylines or weaving together multiple timelines.
Research Assistance
Writers with backgrounds in history, literature, or even technical fields like physics understand the importance of research in crafting believable worlds. Tools like Scrivener allow them to organize research alongside their writing, making it easy to reference important details without disrupting their workflow.
Collaborative Feedback
Writing is often a solitary craft, but feedback is essential to growth. Tools like Fictionary provide AI-driven developmental editing, helping assess pacing, tension, and character development. For writers who explore varied genres, having a tool that serves as a digital writing coach can make a significant difference.
Do Writers Really Need Expensive Tools?
For writers serious about honing their craft, premium tools can be a game-changer. These tools aren’t substitutes for creativity or hard work—they’re enhancers. The most compelling stories come from within, but even the best storytellers benefit from tools that refine their work and help their ideas shine.
For instance, while crafting a humorous book like Stupid Shit, tools can ensure comedic timing lands effectively and critiques of absurdity remain sharp. In a psychological thriller, these tools can help ensure tension builds naturally and characters’ motivations stay consistent throughout the narrative.
Balancing Technology with Creativity
Technology is only as effective as the person using it. Writing software cannot replace a writer’s unique voice, perspective, or creative spark. It’s easy to become overly reliant on AI-driven tools, but the heart of any story always comes from the writer.
These tools function more like sophisticated assistants—they highlight technical flaws, streamline the process, and organize ideas, but the artistry remains in the hands of the writer.
Are Expensive Writing Tools Worth It?
For writers passionate about storytelling and willing to embrace technology, investing in premium tools is a wise decision. These tools streamline the writing process, refine ideas, and ensure that every word on the page serves its purpose. Whether crafting an intricate psychological thriller or a humorous critique of human absurdity, writing tools help writers reach new creative heights.
The best advice for writers considering these tools? Start small, experiment, and choose the ones that align with your goals. Remember, writing tools are there to support the craft—not replace it.
Embrace the technology, refine your craft, and keep writing. At the end of the day, the world needs great stories—flaws and all.
What are your thoughts on premium writing tools? Have you used any of the ones mentioned here? Let us know in the comments!

What would you surrender for a story that won’t stop knocking?

I surrendered the glow. The soft, blue hum that filled the room after dinner. I set the remote down the way some people set aside sugar for Lent—deliberately, almost ceremonially—like I was laying a coin on a ferryman’s palm. The one-eyed monster blinked into its own reflection, and the living room exhaled. No laugh track. No canned cliffhanger. Only the fridge whispering, the clock ticking, the house going quiet enough for another world to speak.

That was the night my AR clicked on.

Not augmented reality. Author Reality. The dimension that lives behind every closed door and blinking cursor. It doesn’t need a headset, and it doesn’t apologize for being demanding. It’s the world that asks you to show up with the same seriousness you bring to your job, your family, your grief, your joy. It rewards the faithful, and it keeps its secrets from the curious who wander in for a minute and wander back out.

Is it worth it? Depends on what you want from a story: to be carried, or to build the boat.

Here’s the rhythm I’ve learned, the three-beat cadence of making a book: if I’m not writing, I’m editing. If I’m not editing, I’m sharing—sending flares from my lighthouse so readers can find the shore I’ve drawn by hand. The work doesn’t pause when inspiration does. The tide moves with or without me, and the only way to get anywhere is to put an oar in the water every day, even when the fog is thick.

In AR, everything means more than it looks. A mug of coffee stops being a mug. Steam rolls out like sea fog over the harbor city I sketched in a January notebook—the one with crooked alleys and market bells and a lighthouse whose stair treads know my footsteps by now. The keyboard isn’t plastic and wires; it’s a compass that points toward scenes I haven’t met and scenes I’m avoiding. The cursor blinks like a beacon: here, here, here. Come back to work.

Characters are the first to step through. They don’t knock; they appear mid-argument, mid-laugh, mid-betrayal, dragging weather from their world into mine. A woman with ink-stained fingers and a secret she thinks is hers to keep sits across a table I’ve never owned, tapping out a rhythm that nags me until I write it. A courier with a map stitched into his jacket refuses to sleep until I let him miss his train. They bring me their trouble and their hope and ask me to be brave enough to tell the truth about both.

Writing is the first excavation. It’s the rush of discovering a bone in the sand and imagining the whole animal in a heartbeat. Then comes editing—the archaeology that happens with a brush instead of a shovel. Line by line, brush, brush, brush. I dig out the clean edges of the story from the clay of my habits. I cut the clever lines that don’t serve the skeleton. I sand away the splinters of scenes that snag but don’t support.

Editing is humbling. It asks: if you were a reader with a train to catch and twenty minutes to spare, would you keep turning pages? It makes you honest. It makes you protective of the reader’s time like it’s your own. It teaches you that your favorite sentence is sometimes the one that has to go.

Then there’s the sharing. I used to call it marketing and feel like I’d swapped my compass for a billboard, but that was before I understood it as lighthouse work. A story without a reader is a ship locked in the bottle: complete, exquisite, invisible. So I keep the glass polished. I write the note that says, “This is the world waiting inside,” and I send it in a thousand bottles. I accept that some will wash back to my own feet. I light the lamp again tomorrow. Maintenance isn’t glamorous, but neither is missing land because the light went out.

What did I trade for this? The easy glow of someone else’s story. The comfort of predictable arcs and neat resolutions. I traded hours that evaporated into hours that accrue. The time I used to float became time I build.

Not all trades feel noble. There are nights when the couch calls me by name, when the news scrolls like a slow-motion car wreck and every good show has three seasons ready to swallow me whole. There are mornings when the alarm sounds like a dare. I don’t always win. But I keep a little ledger—a trade log that tells me, honestly, what I gave up and what I made instead.

Gave up: an hour of television, a mindless scroll, a snack I didn’t need. Built instead: 827 words that moved a character from lying to telling the truth. Reshaped a chapter so the secret doesn’t leak too soon. Jotted a note about how the lighthouse uses a lens I’d never heard of before—Fresnel, a word that tastes like a bell.

Some nights the ledger holds only this: showed up. Sat with the blank and did not run. That counts. That’s a bead on the string.

Is it worth it? I don’t pretend I don’t miss the weightless time. Ease is its own kind of bliss. But there’s another kind: the exhale that comes when a paragraph clicks into place after a week of sanding. The email that says, “I brought your character to the doctor with me; she kept me company in the waiting room.” The message that says, “I didn’t think anyone knew how this felt until I read your chapter.” Those are the moments when the ledger pays interest.

Author Reality is not glamorous. It’s not a montage scored to moody piano. It’s a series of ordinary choices that turn into extraordinary pages. It is the practice of saying no to something pleasant so you can say yes to something that will outlast you. It’s a room you have to reenter every day because the door locks when you leave. And it is, somehow, always worth the key.

Maybe you feel the familiar itch in your palms. The tug toward building instead of consuming. The quiet knowing that you are meant to make something you cannot yet see the edges of. If that’s you, come with me. We can navigate together, even in different boats.

Here’s how to open your AR door:

For one week, switch off the one-eyed monster. Thirty minutes a day is enough to crack the seam between here and there. Put your remote in a drawer, set a timer, and let silence stretch long enough to get uncomfortable. On the other side of discomfort is a voice that wants to talk to you.

Choose your role each day so you don’t fight your own weather. Calm sea? Write new words, even if they’re ugly. Wind picking up? Edit yesterday’s draft with gentle eyes. Fog horn blowing? Share a piece—a paragraph, a line, a feeling—with someone who might need it. Writing, editing, sharing. Every day has a job.

Keep a tiny trade log. One line. What you traded. What you built. Gave up: 40 minutes of scrolling. Built: 3 new pages and a better scene transition. Gave up: a second helping of dessert. Built: the energy to reread my own work without hating it. The log is proof. The log is a map.

Offer a postcard from your AR. A sentence, a sketch of a character, a logline that scares you a little to say out loud. Tell me why it matters to you. We anchor each other when we speak our worlds into air.

You don’t need a headset to live in augmented reality. You need intention. You need a door you’re willing to close and a light you’re willing to switch on. You need the courage to choose your story over the millions that want to borrow your attention for free and charge you with regret later.

I won’t pretend it’s easy to keep that light burning. But I can promise this: the worlds we build in AR have a way of building us back. They give us patience and precision and a tenderness for our own imperfect drafts. They teach us to wait for the fog to lift and to move forward anyway, even when it doesn’t. They send back echoes in the shape of readers who bring our characters to breakfast, to chemotherapy, to bed. They make meaning out of minutes.

The light is on. The keys are warm. The door is unlocked. If you’re ready, step into your AR. Leave your shoes at the threshold and carry only what you need: your stubbornness, your curiosity, a pen that doesn’t mind being chewed. I’ll be in the lighthouse, keeping watch, sending signals. When your boat appears on the horizon, I’ll wave you in.

We have worlds to make.

#WritersLife #BookTok #Bookstagram #WritingCommunity #AmWriting #IndieAuthor #WritersOfInstagram #AuthorTok #WritersOfTwitter #WritersOfX #Worldbuilding

The Blood Moon that Became Legend

Dear Readers, Do you love mysteries, eerie tales, and a touch of the inexplicable? Are you fascinated by stories that blur the line between reality and legend? Then I invite you to visit my entry in this weeks contest and dive into my latest short story, “The Blood Moon That Became Legend.”Set in the quiet town of Milford, Oregon, this story unravels a haunting chain of events that began with a blood moon, a 911 call, and strange lights in the woods. What followed were footprints too large to be human, a mutilated cow, and a town spiraling into fear and speculation. Is it all an elaborate prank, or is something far more sinister at play?I’d love to hear your thoughts! Drop by my site, read the story, and share your comments. Let me know what you think of the tale—your feedback is invaluable as I continue crafting more thrilling narratives.Visit my site here: [Insert your site link]Step into the mystery of Milford. The blood moon awaits you.

The goal was to tell a story in the form of a police report, news article, or journal entry about an incredible (or impossible) event.

When the blood moon rises over the quiet town of Milford, Oregon, the line between prank and peril blurs. A teenager’s terrified 911 call sparks a cascade of strange events: eerie lights, bone-chilling screams, massive clawed footprints, and a mutilated cow. What begins as a suspected hoax unravels into a mystery that shakes the town to its core. With rumors of cryptids, unexplained disappearances, and sinister motives swirling, young Jamie Carter takes it upon herself to uncover the truth. But as the blood moon’s glow fades, Milford faces a chilling question: what if the legend is real?

Dark, suspenseful, and laced with cosmic unease, The Blood Moon That Became Legend will leave you questioning what lurks in the shadows—and whether some mysteries are better left unsolved.

Ya’ll check out the story on the Reedsy site and give it a like for me. https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/author/scott-taylor-918071/

Thanks

Rethinking Blame: Kirk and Carlson’s Conversation Unpacked

The recent interview between Charlie Kirk and Tucker Carlson warrants closer scrutiny, particularly in light of the significant influence both figures wield in shaping public discourse. While the conversation touched on a variety of topics, including generational blame, political strategy, and cultural values, it also revealed certain rhetorical tendencies and ideological positions that merit critical reflection and, perhaps, a reevaluation of their approach.

Generational Blame and Oversimplification

One of the central themes of the interview was the critique of Baby Boomers, with both Kirk and Carlson suggesting that this generation bears significant responsibility for the economic and cultural challenges faced by younger generations, particularly Gen Z. This argument, while provocative, risks oversimplifying complex systemic issues. As noted in the transcript of the interview titled “How Debt Has Radicalized Young America and Why Boomers Deserve the Blame”, Kirk and Carlson discuss how debt and economic inequality have disproportionately impacted younger generations, framing Boomers as a primary cause

.While it is true that certain policies and decisions made during the Baby Boomer era have contributed to current economic challenges, attributing blame to an entire generation ignores the diversity within that cohort. Many Boomers were not in positions of power and faced their own economic struggles. Furthermore, systemic issues such as rising debt, economic inequality, and environmental degradation are the result of decisions made by individuals across multiple generations, not solely by Boomers. This kind of generational scapegoating risks alienating potential allies and oversimplifying the root causes of these problems.

Inflammatory Rhetoric and Its Consequences

Another point of concern is the tone and language used during the interview. Tucker Carlson, known for his provocative style, reportedly used inflammatory language, including a call to “lock those [expletive] up,” which was met with visible discomfort from Kirk, as noted in the interview. While Carlson’s rhetoric may resonate with certain segments of his audience, it raises questions about the broader implications of such language in public discourse.Inflammatory rhetoric, while effective in capturing attention, can undermine constructive dialogue and alienate individuals who might otherwise engage with the issues being discussed. It also risks reinforcing the very dynamics of power and division that Carlson and Kirk often critique. As public figures with significant platforms, both men have a responsibility to foster thoughtful and inclusive conversations rather than resorting to language that exacerbates polarization.

The Role of Self-Reflection in Public Discourse

Given the influence of both Carlson and Kirk, it is crucial for them to engage in self-reflection and consider the broader impact of their messaging. While their critiques of cultural and political elites often resonate with audiences who feel disillusioned or marginalized, they must also ensure that their arguments are grounded in nuance and avoid perpetuating division. For instance, Carlson’s reflections on religion and values, as highlighted in the interview, offer an opportunity to emphasize unity and shared purpose rather than focusing on blame or conflict.Moreover, Kirk’s role as a voice for younger generations could benefit from a more balanced approach that acknowledges the contributions and struggles of older generations while advocating for systemic change. By fostering intergenerational collaboration and emphasizing shared goals, Kirk and Carlson could help bridge divides rather than deepen them.

The recent interview between Charlie Kirk and Tucker Carlson provides a valuable opportunity to reflect on the role of public figures in shaping societal narratives. While their critiques of generational and systemic issues raise important questions, their reliance on oversimplification and inflammatory rhetoric risks undermining the constructive potential of their platform. A more nuanced and inclusive approach, grounded in self-reflection and a commitment to fostering unity, would better serve their audience and contribute to meaningful progress on the issues they seek to address.

Avoid Marketing Mistakes: Tips for Authors

When you flush money down the shitter expecting results, you’re not just throwing a party for your dignity—you’re throwing it a surprise funeral. Spoiler alert: the porcelain throne isn’t some magical fountain of success. It’s not going to spit out gold bars or a winning lottery ticket. No, it’s just a glorified trash can for bad decisions and the aftermath of your Taco Bell binge. And let’s be real, the only thing you’re going to find in there is regret, a questionable smell, and the faint echo of your own stupidity.
Seriously, what were you expecting? A genie to pop out and grant you three wishes? Hate to break it to you, but the only thing coming out of that toilet is the ghost of last night’s tequila and the shattered remains of your self-esteem. Congratulations, you’ve officially turned your bathroom into a shrine for poor life choices. Light a candle. Say a prayer. And for the love of God, stop flushing your hopes and dreams down the crapper.

So, my book, Stupid Shit: A Survival Guide for a World Gone Mad, is almost ready to drop, and now it’s time to tackle the beast that is marketing. And let’s be honest—marketing can feel like trying to sell ice to penguins while wearing a clown suit. But hey, if you’re writing a book about stupid shit, you’re already halfway to genius. The trick is to avoid doing stupid shit while marketing your book. I know people who’ve written books, slapped them on Amazon, and then sat back waiting for the million-dollar checks to roll in. Should we tell them? Or just let them keep refreshing their bank accounts in blissful ignorance?

Then there are the people who pay someone else to do their marketing for them. Because nothing screams “I’m invested in my book” like outsourcing the entire process to someone who couldn’t give two shits if your book sells or ends up as a coaster for their coffee mug. Let’s be real—these people don’t care about your literary masterpiece on why Rome really fell. They’re not sitting there thinking, “Wow, this author’s insights into ancient history are going to change the world!” No, they’re thinking, “How fast can I slap together a half-assed Facebook ad and still charge them $500?”
If you’re going to be an author, you’ve got to face the cold, hard truth: unless you’ve got the luck of the Irish, or 50 shades of luck in the form of a billionaire with a fetish for spanking young women with tender white bottoms, you’re going to have to work a little harder. And no, I don’t mean “harder” in the Christian Grey sense. I mean you’re going to have to dive headfirst into the murky, soul-sucking waters of marketing your own damn book.

Because here’s the thing: no one is coming to save you. There’s no knight in shining armor galloping in on a horse made of Amazon algorithms to rescue your sales. You’re not Anastasia Steele, and your book isn’t going to magically seduce the masses just by existing. You’ve got to put in the work. You’ve got to convince people that your book is worth their time, their money, and their precious attention span, which, let’s be honest, is shorter than a TikTok video these days.

So, unless you’re sitting on a pile of cash and a dream that some marketing guru is going to turn your novel into the next Fifty Shades of Grey, it’s time to roll up your sleeves and get to work. Because the only thing worse than writing a book no one reads is paying someone else to pretend they care about it while they’re secretly Googling “how to make passive income without trying.”

Many people get on Twitter or Facebook and do what…Spam.
You know that guy who sends 16 identical pitches to random blogs in five hours? Yeah, don’t be that guy. Spamming your book everywhere is like farting in an elevator—it’s loud, obnoxious, and everyone hates you for it. Instead, focus on connecting with your actual audience. Who are they? People who love sarcasm, humor, and a healthy dose of WTF moments. Speak to them directly, not to the void. The void doesn’t buy books. The void doesn’t even have a credit card.
Learn from the Snowqueen’s Icedragon (Yes, That’s a Real Thing)

Let’s take a moment to appreciate E.L. James, the queen of turning fan fiction into a global phenomenon. Back in 2009, she wrote Fifty Shades of Grey as Twilight fan fiction under the pseudonym “Snowqueen’s Icedragon.” (Yes, really. Let that sink in.) She posted it on fanfiction.net, where she tapped into an existing fanbase of people who were already thirsty for sparkly vampires and awkward romance. Genius, right? She then moved her story to her own website, self-published it, and let word-of-mouth do the heavy lifting. By the time Hollywood came knocking, she was already rolling in cash and probably laughing maniacally while swimming in a pool of royalty checks. Moral of the story? Know your audience, and don’t be afraid to embrace the absurd.

Know Your Audience (Hint: It’s Not Karen from Accounting)
If you’re marketing your book to “everyone,” you’re marketing it to no one. Your book isn’t for everyone—In my case my audience is people who appreciate humor, sarcasm, and the absurdity of modern life.

Who is yours? Lean into that. Your ideal reader isn’t Karen from accounting who spends her weekends manifesting her dream life with crystals and self-help books.

My reader is the person who laughs at fart jokes, wonders why the world is so damn ridiculous, and probably has a meme folder labeled “For When I Lose Faith in Humanity.”
Social Media: Stop Screaming “BUY MY BOOK” Like a Lunatic.

If your social media strategy is just “BUY MY BOOK” on repeat, you’re doing it wrong. Social media is like a party—if you’re the guy standing in the corner shouting about your book, people will avoid you like you’ve got the plague. Instead, In my case I will share funny anecdotes, behind-the-scenes moments, or even snippets of the book.

The world is too damned serious and I want to make people laugh, make them think, and then—then—tell them about my book.

Balance is key. Think of it like foreplay. You don’t just dive in screaming, “BUY MY BOOK!” You warm them up first. Buy them dinner. Tell them a joke. Then hit them with the sales pitch.
Start Marketing Before You’re Ready (Because You’ll Never Be Ready)

Waiting until your book is out to start marketing is like showing up to a potluck with an empty plate. Start building hype now. Share your writing process, tease your cover design, or post about the stupid shit that inspired your book. The earlier you start connecting with your audience, the more invested they’ll be when your book drops. And remember, it’s not about follower counts or newsletter subscribers—it’s about quality over quantity. A small, engaged audience is worth more than a million bots or disinterested followers. Treat your audience like gold. Or at least like a really good burrito. Both are precious.

I know way too many authors who don’t give a shit—or even two fucks—about their audience. And let me tell you, folks, that ain’t gonna fly. Your audience isn’t just some faceless blob of people who magically buy your book because you exist. They’re your peeps. Your tribe. The people who are willing to spend their hard-earned cash on your ramblings about why Rome really fell or whatever other nonsense you’ve decided to write about. If you treat them like a pot pie you left in the air fryer too long—burnt, forgotten, and stinking up the place—they’re going to do what any self-respecting human would do: set off the fire alarm, leave your ass hungry, and never come back.

Here’s the thing: your audience is the lifeblood of your book. Without them, you’re just some weirdo shouting into the void. And the void doesn’t buy books. The void doesn’t leave reviews. The void doesn’t even care that you exist. So, if you’re not willing to put in the effort to connect with your readers, you might as well pack it up now and save yourself the embarrassment of watching your Amazon ranking plummet faster than your self-esteem after reading a one-star review.

Treat Your Audience Like Gold (Not Like That Mystery Meat in the Back of Your Freezer)
Your audience isn’t stupid. They can tell when you’re phoning it in. If you’re just throwing your book out there and hoping for the best, they’ll notice. And they’ll leave. Fast. Think of your audience like a delicate soufflé—you’ve got to nurture them, pay attention to them, and for the love of God, don’t slam the oven door by ignoring their needs. Otherwise, they’ll collapse into a sad, deflated mess, and you’ll be left wondering why no one’s buying your book.

So, how do you keep your audience happy? Simple: give a shit. Engage with them. Talk to them. Make them feel like they’re part of something special. Because if you don’t, they’ll find someone else who will. And trust me, there’s no shortage of authors out there who are more than happy to steal your readers while you’re busy treating them like yesterday’s leftovers.

Don’t Be That Author Who Thinks They’re Too Cool for Their Readers

You know the type. The author who thinks they’re some literary god, too busy basking in their own brilliance to bother with the people who actually read their work. Newsflash: you’re not Hemingway. And even if you were, Hemingway would probably tell you to stop being such a pretentious asshole and buy your readers a drink. Your audience doesn’t owe you anything. They don’t have to read your book. They don’t have to leave you glowing reviews. And they sure as hell don’t have to stick around if you treat them like crap.

So, here’s the deal: if you want your audience to care about you, you’ve got to care about them first. Show them some love. Make them laugh. Give them a reason to stick around. Because at the end of the day, your audience isn’t just a bunch of random assholes—they’re the reason your book exists. Treat them like it.

Don’t Be Afraid to Be Bold (Or a Little Stupid)
My book is called Stupid Shit, so you better believe I’m going all-in on audacious marketing. Humor, sarcasm, and a touch of absurdity to grab attention. Because let’s face it, the world is already full of stupid shit—my book is here to make sense of it. Or at least laugh at it.

Marketing doesn’t have to be a soul-sucking exercise in futility. It can actually be fun. Just remember: don’t spam, don’t rely on bots, and don’t try to be everything to everyone. Focus on your audience, be genuine, and let your personality shine through. After all, the world is already drowning in stupid shit—my book is here to be the life raft. Or at least the inflatable pool noodle.
Sign up for e-mails, subscribe, you know the drill.

I have to get back to work on editing 1300 Feet Per Second which is a thriller.
Next time we visit I will share my writing techniques regarding letting sleeping dogs nap while I work on something else and then return to wake them up and get them howling.
-Best

Who Are You? (The Sarcastic, No-BS Edition)

Let me tell you who I am. I’m the person who spent years in the corporate trenches, leading teams of programmers and professionals, trying to convince them that being themselves wasn’t just some cheesy motivational poster bullshit. You know the one: “Be yourself. Everyone else is taken.” Yeah, that. Except I actually meant it. I told my people to embrace who they were—quirks, flaws, and all—because pretending to be someone else is exhausting. And frankly, most people suck at it anyway.

But here’s the kicker: in today’s world, being yourself is practically a revolutionary act. Why? Because half the country is too busy being spoon-fed propaganda by the fake news machine to even remember who they are. They’re like zombies, but instead of brains, they’re after the next trending hashtag. And don’t even get me started on the other half—they’re too busy arguing with the first half to notice they’re just as lost. It’s a circus, and everyone’s the clown.

In my upcoming book, Stupid Shit (yes, that’s the title, and no, I’m not changing it), I dive into the absurdity of it all. I’ll teach you how to spot the tricks, the traps, and the outright stupidity that keeps people from living authentically. Spoiler alert: it’s everywhere. But hey, at least it’s entertaining.

Why Be Who You Are (Even When Everyone Else Thinks You’re an Idiot)?

Let’s get real for a second. Being yourself is hard. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows and inspirational Instagram quotes. Sometimes, it’s more like standing in the middle of a storm, holding a lightning rod, while everyone around you screams, “Why can’t you just be normal?” But here’s the thing: being yourself is the only way to live a life that doesn’t make you want to punch a wall every morning.

Let me break it down for you:

1. Living Authentically Brings Fulfillment (And Fewer Headaches)

Pretending to be someone you’re not is like wearing a pair of shoes that are two sizes too small. Sure, you might look good for a minute, but eventually, your feet are going to bleed. Living authentically means you stop giving a shit about what other people think and start doing what actually makes you happy. And no, I’m not talking about the kind of “happy” that comes from binge-watching Netflix while eating an entire pizza. I mean the deep, soul-level kind of happy. The kind that makes you wake up and think, “Yeah, I’m killing it.”

2. External Validation Is a Scam (Stop Chasing It)

Here’s a fun fact: no matter how hard you try, you’re never going to make everyone like you. Why? Because people are fickle, judgmental, and often just plain wrong. Chasing their approval is like trying to win a game of Monopoly with no money and no properties—it’s not going to happen, and you’ll just end up flipping the board in frustration. Carl Jung said it best: “The world will ask who you are, and if you don’t know, the world will tell you.” And trust me, the world’s version of you is probably boring as hell.

3. Fake People Attract Fake Friends (And Who Needs That?)

When you’re not being yourself, you attract people who like the fake version of you. And guess what? Those relationships are about as deep as a kiddie pool. When you’re authentic, you attract people who actually like you—flaws, quirks, and all. Sure, it might take longer to find your tribe, but when you do, it’s worth it. Plus, you won’t have to pretend to like pumpkin spice lattes just to fit in. (Unless you actually like them, in which case, carry on.)

4. Your Weirdness Is Your Superpower (Embrace It)

Newsflash: the things that make you different are the things that make you awesome. Trying to fit into someone else’s mold is like trying to shove a square peg into a round hole—it’s awkward, painful, and completely unnecessary. So, you’re a little weird? Good. The world needs more weird. Normal is overrated, and frankly, it’s boring as hell.

5. Rejection Is Inevitable (So You Might as Well Be Yourself)

Here’s the harsh truth: not everyone is going to like you. Some people will think you’re too loud, too quiet, too weird, too whatever. And you know what? That’s fine. Because the people who reject you for being yourself are doing you a favor, they’re clearing the way for the people who actually matter—the ones who will love you for exactly who you are. So, let them go. Bye, Felicia.

At the end of the day, being yourself isn’t just about living authentically—it’s about living without regrets. It’s about looking back on your life and thinking, “Yeah, I did it my way,” instead of, “Why the hell did I spend so much time trying to impress people I don’t even like?” So, stop worrying about what everyone else thinks. Stop trying to fit in. And for the love of all that is holy, stop pretending to like kale. Just be you. The world might not always appreciate it, but trust me, your sanity will.

Don’t forget to subscribe and follow so you can stay updated on my latest posts and be the first to know when and where you can grab your own copy of Stupid Shit. Despite a misleading title, the product’s humor will keep you laughing while also provoking thought.

-Best

Navigating the Challenges of Writing in the AI Era

I had lunch with a dear friend recently—a lovely person who discovered that writing is, in fact, a business. Yes, a business. Like selling hot dogs or running a laundromat, except with more existential dread and fewer health inspections. Over sandwiches, we discussed the latest in literary absurdity: AI-driven software that can crank out an entire book faster than you can say, “What the actual fuck?” Apparently (and I can’t confirm this, but it sounds stupid enough to be true), Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP) now limits authors to uploading no more than three books a day. Three. A. Day. Because, you know, that’s a totally normal output for a human being and not at all a sign that Skynet is moonlighting as a romance novelist.

Let’s talk about writing a book the way most authors do—or at least the way we used to before AI started pooping out novels like a malfunctioning vending machine. Writing a book used to be a deeply personal, soul-crushing process that required creativity, discipline, and the kind of stubbornness usually reserved for toddlers refusing to eat broccoli. Here’s how it went down in the pre-AI era:

1. Generating Ideas

Back in the day, authors had to rely on their own brains to come up with ideas. No ChatGPT, no Bard, no “AI Muse 3000.” Just raw, unfiltered human creativity. Inspiration came from life experiences, dreams, or that one weird conversation you overheard at Starbucks where someone said, “I don’t care if it’s illegal, I’m marrying the ferret.” Writers carried notebooks everywhere, jotting down ideas like lunatics scribbling manifestos.

For example, when I wrote a book about sailing, I didn’t just Google “how to sail” and call it a day. No, I lived it. I chartered a sailboat, had the crew walk me through the process, and spent the day pretending I was Captain Jack Sparrow (minus the eyeliner and rum). That night, when I lay down in my hotel bed, the room was still swaying. That’s the kind of detail you can’t fake. That’s world-building, baby.

2. Outlining the Story

Once you had an idea, you had to outline it. This was where the real masochism began. You’d map out the plot, develop characters with backstories more complicated than your family drama, and, if you were writing sci-fi or fantasy, create entire worlds with their own rules, languages, and economies. It was like playing God, except no one worshipped you, and you didn’t get a day off.

Some writers “pantsed” their way through the story (a.k.a. winging it like a drunk pilot), while others meticulously planned every chapter. I personally use a beat sheet from Save the Cat, because apparently, I enjoy turning my creative process into a spreadsheet. Nothing says “art” like Excel.

3. Writing the First Draft

Ah, the first draft. The part where you sit down, stare at a blank page, and think, “Why the hell did I decide to do this?” Writing was slow, painful, and required the kind of discipline usually associated with monks or Navy SEALs. You’d aim for a specific word count each day, and if you hit it, you’d reward yourself with chocolate or alcohol—or both.

Writer’s block was a constant companion. Without AI to suggest ideas, you had to push through it on your own. Some people went for walks. Others screamed into the void. I personally found inspiration in coffee, wine, and the occasional existential crisis.

4. Revising and Editing

Once the first draft was done, the real torture began: revising. You’d read your manuscript over and over, catching typos, fixing plot holes, and wondering why your protagonist sounded like a cardboard cutout. Beta readers would give you feedback like, “I didn’t connect with the characters,” or “This part was boring,” and you’d resist the urge to reply, “Well, Karen, maybe you’re boring.”

If you could afford it, you’d hire a professional editor. If not, you’d edit it yourself, which was like performing surgery on your own child. Painful, messy, and guaranteed to leave scars.

5. Research

Research is the necessary evil of writing, especially for non-fiction or historically accurate fiction. It’s the part of the process where you willingly dive headfirst into a rabbit hole of facts, only to emerge hours later wondering why you now know the mating habits of 18th-century pigeons but still haven’t figured out what your protagonist’s name is. Research is both a blessing and a curse—it gives your work depth and believability, but it also makes you question your life choices when you’re Googling things like, “How long does it take for a body to decompose in a swamp?” and praying your internet provider isn’t judging you.

For example, if you’re writing sci-fi, you might find yourself studying quantum physics or emerging technologies, which sounds impressive until you realize you’re just trying to figure out how to explain time travel without sounding like a lunatic. Or, if you’re me, you might Google “how to sabotage an airplane” and then spend the next week convinced that the FBI is about to kick down your door. I mean, imagine it: covert agents taping over your outdoor cameras, RF jamming your phone so you can’t call for help, cutting the power to your house, shooting your dogs (RIP, Fido), and snipers perched in trees a mile away, just waiting for you to answer the door in your pajamas—or, let’s be honest, nude—so they can interrogate you about your questionable search history.

Wait. I never Googled that. Nope. Never happened. But damn, wouldn’t that make a killer chapter in a thriller? Picture it: the protagonist is a writer who accidentally stumbles onto some classified government conspiracy while researching their next book. Suddenly, their innocent Google searches turn into a one-way ticket to paranoia-ville, complete with black SUVs tailing them and mysterious men in suits showing up at their local coffee shop. Someone call Netflix—I think I just wrote their next hit series.

But seriously, research is the backbone of good writing. Whether you’re crafting a historical epic or a sci-fi adventure, you need to know your shit. As Patricia Leslie points out, research is essential for both fiction and non-fiction writers. It helps develop characters, make settings believable, and weave fact and fiction together so seamlessly that readers can’t tell where one ends and the other begins

For non-fiction, accuracy is king. For fiction, it’s more like a benevolent dictator—you can bend the rules a little, but you still need to know what you’re doing.

The trick is to use research as a tool, not a crutch. Sure, you could spend weeks poring over vintage newspapers or interviewing experts, but at some point, you have to stop researching and start writing. Otherwise, you’ll end up with a head full of useless trivia and no book to show for it. And let’s be honest, no one’s going to be impressed that you know the exact dimensions of a 16th-century guillotine unless you actually use that knowledge in your story.

So, to all the writers out there: research responsibly. And maybe clear your browser history every now and then, just in case. You never know when the FBI might decide to pay you a visit.

6. Finding a Publisher

Before self-publishing, authors had to grovel at the feet of literary agents and publishers. You’d write query letters, pitch your book, and wait months for a response, only to get a rejection that said, “Not for us, but good luck!” It was like online dating, except instead of ghosting you, they sent a polite “no.”

7. Marketing and Promotion

Even after all that, the work wasn’t done. Authors had to promote their books like used car salesmen. Book tours, media appearances, social media campaigns—you name it. You’d beg people to buy your book, and they’d say, “I’ll wait for the movie.” Thanks, Aunt Linda.

The AI Problem

Now, thanks to AI, anyone can “write” a book in minutes. But let’s be honest: these programs aren’t writing books; they’re shitting them out. And the result? A flood of mediocre, soulless content clogging up the literary world like a fatberg in a sewer.

I’m all for technology as a tool. Word, Grammarly, ProWritingAid—these are great. But AI-generated books? That’s where I draw the line. I’m pushing for legislation that requires AI-generated books to wear a big, ugly label that says, “This was written by a robot.” Readers deserve to know if the “author” of their favorite romance novel is a human or a glorified toaster.

Final Thoughts

Writing is a job. A hard, thankless, occasionally soul-sucking job. There are days when I stare at my manuscript and think, “Why am I doing this?” But then I remember: because I love it. Because it’s who I am. And because the world needs more books written by real people with real stories to tell.

My book, Stupid Shit, is coming soon. Subscribe today so you can grab a copy when it drops. Trust me, it’ll be worth it. Or don’t. I’m not your mom.

-Best

Transform Anger into Understanding: The Art of Letter Writing

I am the king… of Shit Head Letters—a title I wear with a mix of humor and humility. Allow me to explain.

Much like my latest project Stupid Shit, due to release soon, there’s a catharsis in writing these letters. When the world feels upside down, and someone you care about has poisoned the well with their grievances—whether over something significant or trivial—it’s easy to let emotions take over. But I’ve learned that going to bed angry or upset only deepens the chaos. Much like the butterfly effect, our words and actions ripple outward, shaping the world around us. So, what do I do with these letters?
I write them. I pour every ounce of frustration, every unspoken word, onto the page. But here’s the key: I don’t send them. Instead, I let them marinate. Over time, those raw, emotional drafts are massaged into something kinder, gentler, and more reasoned. They become a reflection of understanding rather than anger.

Why Not Lash Out?

It’s tempting, isn’t it? To tell the world how ignorant someone is because they don’t agree with you. But before I do, I ask myself:
“What if I’m wrong?”
What if my feelings are based on someone else’s misguided messaging? What if I’m reacting to a misunderstanding rather than the truth?I remind myself of this:

Words are powerful. Use them to build bridges, not walls.

The Power of Words

In a world where opinions often clash, it’s easy to let emotions drive our responses. But hateful rhetoric doesn’t solve problems—it creates them. When we attack others out of anger, we risk escalating tensions and deepening divides. Hate speech, whether online or in person, has been linked to real-world harm, including violence and discrimination. Is that the legacy we want to leave behind?Hate doesn’t just hurt the target—it hurts you, too. Studies show that hateful content can lead to psychological distress for both the sender and the receiver. It damages relationships, reputations, and mental well-being.

Pause Before You Post

Before you hit “send” or “post,” take a moment to reflect:

Is this constructive or destructive?
Am I speaking from a place of understanding or anger?
Will this help solve the issue or make it worse?

Let’s Be the Change

Instead of spreading hate, let’s share ideas, listen to others, and build a community where everyone feels valued. The world doesn’t need more division—it needs more compassion. If you’re angry, write it out. Pound the keyboard until there’s nothing left but exhaustion. But don’t send it. Let it sit. Let it breathe. Until you can address the issue without emotions clouding your judgment, leave it alone.

I believe we can find common ground with anyone. Even if it’s as simple as agreeing on the color of the sky, there’s always a place to start. Let’s agree to disagree when necessary, but let’s also strive to find common ground where we can.

Much love,
A fellow human navigating this messy, beautiful world.

Epstein didn’t kill himself, and WTF DAN and KASH?

You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out who visited Little St. James. (Epstein’s Island).

Holy shit, Dan and Kash, never, ever play poker. Seriously, watching that interview was like watching two toddlers try to hide a cookie jar raid — except instead of crumbs, they left a trail of neon signs screaming, “I don’t know how to lie, please don’t notice!”

There’s this magical thing called “poker tells” — involuntary body language, verbal slips, or just plain dumbass behavior that gives away what you’re holding. And you two? You might as well have had giant thought bubbles flashing above your heads: “I’m clueless, please don’t call my bluff.”

If poker were a game of poker tells, you’d be the easiest reads in history. You didn’t just give away your hand; you handed it over with a bow and a damn slideshow. Next time, maybe try not looking like you’re auditioning for “How to Suck at Poker for Dummies.”

In poker, self-awareness is key — knowing when you’re sweating bullets or suddenly chatty can be the difference between winning and getting cleaned out. But you guys? You were broadcasting your cluelessness like it was a damn parade.

Now, Comey is such an artist when it comes to lying. If you compare the two as current and ex-heads of the FBI, you should be scared. While Dan and Kash were basically flashing their goddamn cards like neon signs screaming, “Hey, I’m a lying idiot!” James Comey was sitting there with a poker face so solid it could’ve been carved from the frozen tears of a thousand disappointed FBI agents.

Seriously, this guy’s poker face was so tight that David Bach — a professional poker player who makes a living spotting liars and bullshitters — vouched for Comey’s Senate testimony. Bach said Comey was telling the truth, which means Comey’s poker face wasn’t just good, it was “I’m about to win the fucking World Series of Poker” good. The dude was unreadable, like a goddamn sphinx wrapped in a riddle, wrapped in a poker chip.

Meanwhile, Dan and Kash? They were the human equivalent of a flashing “I’m lying” billboard. You could see their “tells” from space. If poker was about broadcasting your bullshit, they’d be champions. But Comey? Calm, cool, collected — the kind of player who keeps their cards so close to their chest you’d need a crowbar and a warrant just to get a peek.

There is a there there, and Trump’s Boys, they are too honest to run the FBI.

Isnt that a sad statement? “They are too honest to run the FBI.”

If you look at the history of the FBI and think of Hoover…He and Comey could be twins. Yes, Comey, take that as a compliment.

Jeffrey Epstein’s Little Shitshow Island: Who the Hell Flew There and Why?

So, do I believe Epstein strangled himself? Honestly, the official story is riddled with so many screw-ups, suspicious circumstances, and missing evidence that it’s hard not to be skeptical. The combination of malfunctioning cameras, sleeping guards, broken protocols, and Epstein’s connections to powerful people makes the “suicide” explanation feel like the least believable part of this whole mess.

In short: The official line says suicide, but the whole situation smells like a perfect storm of incompetence, cover-ups, and maybe something darker. Whether Epstein was murdered or managed to kill himself in a jail cell with all those screw-ups is still a question that probably won’t get a satisfying answer anytime soon. And that’s why the meme lives on — because sometimes, the truth is just too stupid or too fucked up to swallow without a healthy dose of skepticism and sarcasm.

So, Jeffrey Epstein had this private island called Little St. James. Sounds cute, right? Except it became the VIP hotspot for the kind of wild parties that make your average frat house look like a church picnic. We’re talking alleged sexual abuse of minors, drugs, and a guest list that reads like a “Who’s Who of People Who Should’ve Known Better (or Maybe Just Didn’t Give a Flying F***).” While the full sordid details are still wrapped tighter than a Kardashian’s Instagram DMs, flight logs, court docs, and investigative journalism have peeled back the curtain on who was hopping on Epstein’s personal jet to this debauchery Disneyland.

Who the Hell Was Flying on Epstein’s Creepy Jet?

1. The Usual Suspects: Rich, Famous, and Probably Morally Bankrupt

Flight logs and leaked phone data tracked nearly 200 devices back to fancy-ass neighborhoods and luxury mansions across the US and beyond. Think gated communities in Florida and Michigan, Martha’s Vineyard (because why not?), Nantucket, and even spots near Trump Tower. Basically, if you’ve got a yacht bigger than your ego, you were probably on the list.

These weren’t your average Joes. Nope, business tycoons, politicians, celebrities, and socialites who probably thought their money was a Get Out of Jail Free card for anything shady.

2. The “Oh, Really?” Celebrity and Political Edition

Bill Clinton: Flew on Epstein’s planes at least 17 times in the early 2000s. Sometimes with Secret Service, sometimes without. Clinton swears he didn’t know about the crimes and claims he never set foot on the island. Court docs and accuser testimony? Not so sure about that. But hey, who’s counting? He is still trying to figure out what the definition of IS is.

Donald Trump: Took a few joyrides on Epstein’s jet in the ’90s, sometimes with family. No official accusations of wrongdoing, but he was definitely in Epstein’s Palm Beach social circle and partied with him. Because nothing says “class” like rubbing elbows with a convicted sex offender.

Prince Andrew: The Duke of York, who apparently thought “bad decisions” was his middle name. Accused in court documents of sexual misconduct involving a minor trafficked by Epstein. Denies everything, but his name pops up in flight logs and island guest lists like an unwanted party crasher.

Celebrities: Naomi Campbell, Kevin Spacey, Chris Tucker — all took flights on Epstein’s jet. They all deny knowing anything about the creepy shit going down. Sure, Jan.

3. Epstein’s Inner Circle: The Real MVPs of This Clusterfuck

Ghislaine Maxwell: Epstein’s partner-in-crime, convicted sex trafficker, and frequent island resident. Basically the ringleader who made sure the whole nightmare ran smoothly.

Business Bigwigs: Billionaires like Les Wexner were close to Epstein. Some visited the island, some didn’t. All have since perfected the art of “I don’t know anything” face.

Why the Hell Would Anyone Participate in This?

1. Because Secrecy and Money Make You Feel Invincible

The island was remote, Epstein was loaded, and his guests were so rich they probably thought the law was just a suggestion. What happens on Little St. James stays on Little St. James — or so they hoped. Spoiler: It didn’t.

2. A Culture of Excess, Drugs, and “What the Actual F*”**

According to accusers and investigators, the island was basically a debauchery theme park for the ultra-wealthy. Wild parties, drugs, and the exploitation of girls as young as 14. Because nothing screams “good time” like illegal sex trafficking.

3. Networking, But Make It Creepy

For some, Epstein was a gateway to power, money, and influence. The island was less about friendship and more about transactional “fun.” You know, the kind of fun that ruins lives.

Speculating on the Motives and Activities (Because Why Not?)

The folks most likely to have flown to Epstein’s island for the “fun” stuff were:

People who love exclusive, secret parties and don’t mind skating on the edge of the law and morality.

Those who had something to gain from Epstein’s twisted network — money, power, or just a really messed-up story to tell their grandkids (or not).

And, of course, anyone dumb enough to think their actions would never see the light of day on a tiny island surrounded by ocean and bad decisions.

There you have it: a cocktail of rich assholes, bad choices, and a private island that was less “tropical paradise” and more “criminal circus.” Perfect material for Stupid Shit, because if there’s anything stupider than flying on Epstein’s jet, it’s pretending you didn’t know what the hell was going on.

Lets wrap this up for the 16 percent of people who believe Epstien killed himself and Kash, Pam, And Dan, are telling the truth.

Here are a few more thoughts for the 16% who believe the media, including the ladies of the view.

The Moon Landing Was Filmed on a Hollywood Soundstage

Because obviously, NASA had nothing better to do than hire Stanley Kubrick to fake the entire Apollo 11 mission. Forget the thousands of scientists and engineers — it was all just a big movie set with fake moon dust and zero gravity wires. Cue the dramatic “lights, camera, conspiracy!” 🎬🌕

Birds Aren’t Real — They’re Government Surveillance Drones

Yep, every pigeon, sparrow, and seagull is actually a tiny spy drone sent to watch your every move. So next time a bird poops on your car, remember: Big Brother is literally dropping you a message. 🐦📡

The Earth Is Flat and NASA Is Lying to You

Because all those satellite images, circumnavigation flights, and space missions are just part of a global cover-up to hide the fact that the Earth is a pancake. Gravity? Just a conspiracy to keep you from realizing you’re living on a giant dinner plate. 🥞🌍

The Illuminati Controls Everything, Including Your Morning Coffee

The secret society that allegedly runs the world also decides what you drink, eat, and binge-watch. Starbucks cups with their logo? Illuminati recruitment tools. Your barista? Probably a high-ranking member. ☕️👁️

Elvis Presley Is Still Alive and Living on Mars

Forget Graceland — Elvis faked his death and took a rocket to Mars to start a new life as the Red Planet’s King of Rock ‘n’ Roll. The Martians just haven’t told us yet because they’re still trying to learn “Jailhouse Rock.” 👽🎸

As a science fiction writer I thank god for government cover ups. Lets face it the truth is not near as entertaining as what we will create in the absence of the truth.

The “Oops, We Totally Found a Dead Alien but Lost the Body” Cover-Up

Apparently, the Pentagon once “accidentally” snagged an alien spacecraft along with its deceased pilot. But don’t worry, the government just misplaced the body somewhere between the classified vault and the coffee machine. Happens to the best of us, right?

Roswell: The Ultimate “We Swear It Was Just a Weather Balloon” Story

In 1947, a mysterious crash in Roswell, New Mexico, sparked rumors of alien visitors. The government’s official explanation? A weather balloon. Because when you find something that looks like a spaceship, the first logical conclusion is definitely meteorology.

The Secret UFO Retrieval Program Congress Pretends to Investigate

Congress is “investigating” a secret program that allegedly retrieves UFOs. Translation: lots of hearings, a few vague statements, and zero actual answers — the perfect recipe for keeping the public guessing while the government enjoys its popcorn.

Declassified Memos That Say “We Don’t Know What This Is Either”

After decades of classified documents being released, the government basically admits, “Yeah, we have no clue what some of these flying objects are, but we’re definitely not telling you.” Because mystery is more fun when it’s government-approved.

The Navy’s UFO Encounters That Are Totally Not Aliens, Promise

The Navy has reported inexplicable flying objects near nuclear weapons sites. But hey, it’s probably just a flock of very confused seagulls or maybe some rogue drones. Aliens? Nah, that’s just sci-fi nonsense.

Alien Abductions? Just Your Imagination, or Maybe a Budd Hopkins Book

Some UFO researchers popularized alien abduction stories, but even believers admit some cases are hoaxes. So if you suddenly remember missing time, it’s probably just a nap or a really vivid dream — not an intergalactic joyride.

The real tragedy in this circus of nonsense? Our hard-earned tax dollars are getting flushed straight down the bullshit toilet. Yep, while you’re sweating over rent and ramen, Uncle Sam’s busy funding the greatest collection of “WTF” moments ever assembled. It’s like we’re all chipping in for a front-row seat to the world’s most expensive clown show — and spoiler alert: the clowns don’t even know they’re the joke.

Stay tuned for the release dates of my latest books. “Stupid Shit” is almost finished.

-Best

Today’s Stupid Shit Moment: Independence Day Edition

Ah, Independence Day. A time for fireworks, BBQs, and, apparently, a parade of people doing stupid shit that makes you question how we’ve survived as a species this long. For those of you in the U.S. or Americans abroad, Happy Independence Day! You’ve earned it. Well, most of you. Some of you are out there being paid to metaphorically (and maybe literally) piss your pants in public because you think it’s a good idea to protest a president who—brace yourselves—actually believes in putting America first. Shocking, I know.

To those of you playing the role of “useful idiot,” let me just say, your about as helpful as a parachute that opens on impact.

Oh, and while you’re out there playing political charades, make sure you report that dark money on your taxes. Seriously. Uncle Sam doesn’t give a shit about your “cause,” but he will care about the fact that you’re skipping out on your dues. If you think you’re above the law when it comes to taxes, let me introduce you to a little history lesson: Al Capone. You know, the guy who ran an entire criminal empire but got taken down because he couldn’t be bothered to file his 1040? Yeah, that guy.

And don’t think for a second that you’re too clever to get caught. The IRS is like a bloodhound with a caffeine addiction—they’ll sniff out your shady finances faster than you can say “offshore account.” And when they do, don’t be surprised if your new address is Alligator Alkatraz, the newest prison where tax evaders go to share a cell with a gator named Chompers. Spoiler alert: Chompers doesn’t care about your political affiliations, but he does care about how tasty you look.

I hear the mosquitoes in the newest Florida prison create a relentless, high-pitched buzzing, a cacophony that makes the alligators sound like gentle giants in comparison.

So, here’s some free advice: stop trying to Jedi-mind-trick people into thinking your bullshit is revolutionary, pay your damn taxes, and maybe—just maybe—try doing something productive for once. Like knitting. Or learning how to juggle. Or, I don’t know, not being a walking punchline.

Now, don’t get me wrong—I get it. I understand both sides of the equation. Communism? Not the answer. Hating on cops? Also not the answer. And for the love of all that is holy, tossing 90-year-old grandmas who crossed the border illegally into the slammer? Yeah, probably not the answer either. But here’s the kicker: it’s above your pay grade to fix all this shit. So maybe stop taking dark money to unravel the fabric of this country faster than a cheap sweater in a washing machine. Just a thought.

A quick thank you to the real MVPs.

To the veterans who sacrificed so we could have these kinds of conversations (and by “conversations,” I mean yelling at each other on Twitter): thank you. You’re the reason we can argue about stupid shit like pineapple on pizza or whether Die Hard is a Christmas movie.

To law enforcement: you’re the best. We back the blue—well, the ones who actually support the American people. The rest of you? Maybe consider a career change. I hear Starbucks is hiring.

For the Writers Out There: How to Make It Big (Without Losing Your Mind)

Now, let’s pivot to something less rage-inducing and more productive: writing. I know a lot of you dream of being “independent” from working for The Man. You want to write your way to fame and fortune, sipping margaritas on a beach while your books sell themselves. Spoiler alert: it’s not that easy. But it’s not impossible either. Let’s take a look at two wildly successful authors—J.K. Rowling and E.L. James—and see what we can learn from their journeys.

Secrets of Success for Authors Like J.K. Rowling and E.L. James

Perseverance and Resilience J.K. Rowling was a single mom living in poverty, writing in cafes while her baby drooled on her shoulder. She got rejected 12 times before Bloomsbury finally said, “Fine, we’ll publish your wizard book.” E.L. James? She started in fanfiction, reworking her stories into the “Fifty Shades” trilogy after getting feedback from online communities. Moral of the story? Rejection is just the universe’s way of saying, ‘Not yet, bitch.’

Don’t skim, read; this text is full of wisdom.

Unique and Relatable Stories Rowling gave us a magical world with themes like friendship, loss, and courage. E.L. James? She tapped into a niche market with her bold, unconventional storytelling. (Translation: she made BDSM mainstream. You’re welcome, society.) The lesson here? Be unique. Be relatable. And if all else fails, throw in some handcuffs.

Discipline and Hard Work Rowling rewrote the opening chapter of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone 15 times. FIFTEEN. Meanwhile, James worked tirelessly to turn her fanfiction into a polished trilogy. The takeaway? Writing is hard. Suck it up and do the work.

Embracing Criticism and Rejection Both authors faced rejection and criticism. Rowling’s manuscript was rejected by multiple publishers, and James got roasted for her writing style. But guess what? They didn’t quit. They used the feedback to improve. Pro tip: Grow a thick skin. You’re gonna need it.

Leveraging Opportunities and Platforms E.L. James started in online fanfiction communities, building a loyal audience before going mainstream. Rowling expanded her books into films, merchandise, and theme parks. The lesson? Use every platform at your disposal. And don’t be afraid to think big.

Passion and Authenticity Both authors wrote stories they were passionate about. Rowling loved storytelling, and James was enthusiastic about exploring unconventional themes. (Again, handcuffs.) The point? Write what you love. Your passion will shine through.

Timing and Luck Talent and hard work are crucial, but timing and luck also play a role. Rowling’s manuscript landed on the right desk at the right time, and James’ trilogy blew up during the rise of digital publishing. The takeaway? You can’t control luck, but you can control how prepared you are when it strikes.

Building a Brand Rowling turned Harry Potter into a global empire. James capitalized on her trilogy with movie adaptations. The lesson? Think beyond the book. Could your work inspire a podcast, a screenplay, or even a line of merch? The possibilities are endless.

Final Thoughts for Aspiring Writers

Writing is a grind. It’s messy, frustrating, and sometimes feels like you’re screaming into the void. But it’s also rewarding as hell. So keep at it. Write your stupid shit. Share your stupid shit. And who knows? Maybe one day, your stupid shit will make you famous.

Now go forth and conquer. Or at least write something that doesn’t make people want to gouge their eyes out. Happy writing!

As for my book, Stupid Shit, let me tell you something: just when I think I’ve finally wrapped it up, the world goes, “Hold my beer,” and hands me yet another steaming pile of stupidity to write about. It’s like the universe is running a 24/7 stupidity buffet, and I’m the poor bastard with an all-you-can-eat pass. Seriously, I could be typing “The End” and BAM—someone out there decides to try and deep-fry a frozen turkey in their living room. Or, I don’t know, invents a new TikTok challenge that involves licking electrical outlets.

I mean, I try to filter out the mundane, everyday dumb shit—like people who still don’t know how to use a turn signal or those who microwave metal forks. That’s amateur hour. No, I’m here to bring you the absolute stupidest shit imaginable. The kind of stupidity that makes you stop, stare, and wonder how we’ve made it this far as a species without accidentally walking into the ocean en masse.

And let’s be real: I don’t just do this for you. Writing this book is therapy for me. Because if I didn’t laugh at this stuff, I’d probably be curled up in a corner, rocking back and forth, muttering, “Why, humanity, why?” But for you? It’s humor. It’s a front-row seat to the circus of idiocy that is modern life.

So, stay tuned. The world keeps giving me material, and I’ll keep serving it up hot and fresh. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: stupid shit never takes a day off.