With the experiences I’ve had so far as an independent author, I’ve come across quite a few like-minded individuals. The problem is that some of them aren’t that great at writing something that grabs me (sorry, but it’s true). Some of them, however, are. This is where Scott C. Rogers falls with his debut, Celluloid Cowboy.
To be honest, at first I really wasn’t very interested in reading his book. The cover art definitely screamed indie, and the premise seemed a bit cliche (man’s life sucks, is presented with chance to change), and I am also usually pretty wary of author’s soliciting their works to me to read. (I already have quite a few books on my to-read list.) But Rogers and I emailed back and forth a few times (full disclosure here) and I told him that if he put it up on Kindle I’d maybe read it. He did, he emailed me, and I went ahead and read it.
The thing is, this really isn’t my kind of book. From some of the reviews out there he supposedly has some similarities to Bukowski, who I’ve never really cared enough about to read (and therefore can’t comment as to if he really is like Bukowski). I will say this though: Celluloid Cowboy is really damn weird. Continue reading →
As a person who loves reading and has bought and read literally thousands of books, I never thought I’d say it, but I don’t like reading books anymore. It’s not that I don’t enjoy reading stories, or novels, nonfiction, etc. – it’s that I don’t like reading books. That’s right, the ink-on-paper all bound in one big lump of dead tree things. I can’t stand them.
