Mar 24, 2007

The Future of Fiction


I had never been to San Jose, and maybe if I had I wouldn't have gone back. It was miserable there. The streets were lined with garbage and the girl kept crying the entire time.

DO YOU WANT TO READ MORE?
*Clicks yes*
I was visibly shaken when she finally busted free of my grasp and chasing her was the last thing I wanted to do. When I did catch up to her she tripped and her knee was gushing bright blood over ripped jeans.
"Nasty cut," I said.

"SHUTUPSHUTUP." She was screaming now and crying and the two were causing an incomprehensible mixture of wailing words.

"Do you want my help now?" I was being a bit of an asshole, but I did want the best for her and she was trusting none of it. Now she needed me, and it filled my shaking hands with joy and anger.

DO YOU WANT TO READ MORE?
*Clicks no.*

Thank for starting Jeff Laughlin's novel, Rifles. Would like auto-bookmark to save your place?
*Clicks no.*

Would you like to fill out a survey on the author to help with our records?
*Clicks yes.*

Did you find this book enjoyable?
*Clicks no.*

Would you read anything else by this author?
*Clicks no.*

Would you like to read an author bio?
*Clicks no.*

How would you rate this book to it's publisher? (1-10, 10 being excellent.)
*Clicks 1.*

Thank you for your time, and please feel free to leave comments in the warranted section. They are not required but often helpful. You rhelp with this title is much appreciated.

Would you like to hear a personlized plea from the author-- a helpless and drunken cry from the depths of hearing failure's foibling footsteps trudging behind him?
*Clicks no.*

Comments:
WHERE DO YTOU FIND THIS CRA

No comments: