I have a Hundo-followers, now what?

I may very well be a Deviant novelist, candlelit poet stuck in archaic notions of a renaissance man who fails to give a shit…

…i really do not enjoy the ardour of work. Believe me i’ve slogged through my fair share of terrible jobs. I’ve been alive nearly two thousand years less we forget!

My hearts certanly lingers where the Deviants Dwell!

After honing the craft, whoring myself out to life, for nineteen-centuries I believed it to be about time to share a little…

I’ve ploughed through what little knowledge I’ve ferrtetted away these past and wayward years…been lucky and obesessive enough to have uploaded five novels to amazon (how do people find these things?) I have two more on the back burner. Perhaps my greatest work ever, think Kobo Abe on slow burning cocaine as for the other… believe in the power of a young Thomas pynchon who actually makes sense…once again on coke (the street variety)

…with the spirit of August Strindberg, the heart of Knut Hamsun, the uncouth fuel of Fassbinder, the deranged crazies of a Baudelaire before the disease (humanity/ lack of) bit off too much! I have written far too frequently and believe i may in fact be unsuitable for every day longings!

… yet i am going to do that rarefied thing, yes yes i can make you laugh, sometimes you may even be left in thought long after my novels or rhapsodic prosody have been devoured. Maybe a little poesy is your thing. I ask you how do you make money writing???

I’ve never been alive.
always been a loser with a cardboard home to filter the world through!
yours sincerly D. David Croot (forget about the previous three hundred novels that shall never see the golden rays of lingering winter days. they were shite!)

cheers fellow dreamers!