This is a completely useless book.
If you feel completely useless, take a look at this novel. It’s just lying here, because you’re too lazy to open it.
An abstract mess written on a whim, so absurdly over-the-top you couldn’t possibly imagine it.
It’s better to share the fun than enjoy it alone. I’m bored by myself, so why not let everyone be bored together?
I wrote this out of boredom. If you’re bored too, come take a look. You’ll find that the more you read, the more boring it gets.
If you only read the blurb, you’ll find it’s as good as not reading anything. If you finish the novel, you’ll know it was still a waste of time.
This novel takes slices of everyday life, fantasy, snark, and more, kneads them together like dough, and serves them up to readers.
Reader: Let’s see how it tastes. Ugh, why does it taste like shit?
Author: Wait, you actually ate it?
Reading this really won’t add any fun to your life,
but what if it does? It really won’t.
Is my life really that boring?
Really?
No, maybe there’s a tiny difference?
Thinking it over, every day plays out the same way, yet there’s always a slight variation.
They’re like strands of thread tangled together, yet somehow woven into a complete web.
There’s no coherent plot, and the writing is an utter mess, yet somehow things keep moving forward in a seemingly reasonable way.
Maybe someone will like it. Maybe no one will.
Maybe it’ll become a huge hit but get nothing but bad reviews. Maybe it’ll be mediocre yet beloved. Maybe no one will care and it’ll be tossed into the trash. That’s just how life is: the world is unpredictable and ever-changing, yet somehow never changes.
Maybe one day you’ll remember it and fish it out of the trash, only to decide you don’t want to read it and toss it back in.
And isn’t that one possibility too?
