Karavansara

East of Constantinople, West of Shanghai


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Doing business the punk way

While I like the metaphor of the writer as liar and cheat, as stage magician and cat burglar, there is no denying that, as a writer, I am a business. I am a one-man company that builds stories, and then sells them. Sometimes I sell to publishers, that (hopefully) will take care of the marketing and distribution of my work, sometimes I am a self-publisher, meaning that “my company” has to handle most of the aspects of distribution and marketing of the specific products. In both cases I need to be able to keep my company going. Build more stories, develop my brand and expand my reach, find new clients.
Not necessarily the part that I like of being a writer.

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Cross-training

Back when I was a geology student (yes, I wax nostalgic these nights), we went on a field trip in the Alps, in the Aosta Valley, to study the Matterhorn. Due to some sort of deal our teacher had struck, we were staying as guests in a religious institution. It was a very serious sort of place, verging on the positively dreary. The sort of very strict place in which a state of the art audio system was used every morning at 6 am to wake us up with a selection of Gregorian chants. It was something.

Until the last day. The previous night a commando of geology students sneaked in the control room and changed the tape and the following morning at 6 am we woke up, the amps turned up to 11, like this…

This, too, was something.

The above, just to explain I always had a soft spot for David Lee Roth.

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