The Great Unread

In a recent tweet I coined a very Omar Khayyam type couplet:

Our lives are kisses on the surface of the river,
Tiny whorls that catch the light and then disappear
It represents what faces us all; transiency. For the writer (there are previous blogs on this) the making of books is probably a spurious attempt to lengthen, if not one’s life, at least one’s name on the lips of others. In short it is an attempt at creating legacy. Writing Azimuth has already fulfilled a major ambition for me. It’s a trilogy which investigates the meaning of this short life through adventure, fable and mystery. The reviews are great and the paperback version is a little showcase in cover design and printing.
But, even knowing I have achieved even more than my optimism hoped for when beginning the work, the fact remains that it is not yet a best-seller. Sales are slow. Only by employing a marketing company or spending all my time as a salesman, will I push sales along. But I want to write, not market. Something has to give.
The surprising thing in all this is that many people (friends, acquaintances) I expected to buy the book, haven’t as yet. The days of patronage are over! So its pages await the multitudinous hands of  readers, anonymous or known. II would like to think of it as an unknown treasure. Whether it is at the end of a rainbow or for real, only time (and money or labour) will confirm.

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