I was reading an ST story on how Singaporeans would fork out tens of thousands to publish books that wouldn’t sell.
Wah lau. I mean, if you want to see your name in print, go become a magazine writer or journalist lah, it’s not as difficult as you think because the population of Singaporeans who can write Good Engrish is lower than you think. Obviously, these authors have too much money to throw away.
And with online publishing being so easy and free these days, why bother to use real paper just to pen your ideas or some soppy fiction?
The truth is, if you really want your name to be known at minimal cost and maximum exposure, just set up your own website. If millions of people read, good and make sure you have Google AdSense on your site to get some money rolling in. If nobody reads, it still doesn’t matter because the overheads are almost nil.
There appears to be a real disconnect between the real world and these wannabe authors. Though I work for a newspaper, I’ve never aspired to write a book because I don’t think I can write any more than two chapters before giving up.
If I do write a book, it will probably be something in the vein of Conan The Barbarian or Choose Your Own Adventure. Sadly, I don’t have the depth of Tom Clancy, the humour of Doug Adams or the beauty of Bonnie Hicks.
Still, I am trying to see what I can do with my mini memoirs on my Balestier Road days.