When I wrote my book I had no real idea what would happen with it.
I hoped it would sell, get published in Australia (Melbourne) and do well enough so I could write another one.
It still hasn’t really sold, is no closer to getting published in Australia, but hopefully done enough business to at least get me one more book out of it.
Something else has happened, something weird.
I got nominated for an award.
Best new writer by the national sporting club.
It is quite some honour, no really.
Because my style of writing is not aimed at everyone, it was never meant to be loved by the masses, embraced into their bosom for them to say, “wow, that jarrod is a talented guy, we love him”.
I won’t win the award, a friend said he thought it might became the inglourious basterds of the awards, as long as it isn’t the District 9 and people take it serious I’ll be happy.
It is a weird world when part of the 5% of the fucked up weird shit gets nominated for an award.