MORE ACCOLADES: Fatal Exchange was the favorite book of 2011 for Kate Farrel at The Kindle Book Review.
NEW INTERVIEW: I was interviewed by South African blogger Nadine Maritz, and the result can be seen here.
IMPORTANT! Night of the Assassin just went FREE on Barnes and Noble. Please help me out here. Go to the Amazon page for Night here, and scroll down below the rating, where it says “Tell Us About A Cheaper Price.” Then click that, and enter the link to B&N, which I post below, and enter 0.00 as their price. I would appreciate the help in having them price match it. Thanks so much. Here’s the B&N link.
These are exciting times. Madly so.
Why, you ask, are you bubbling with such excitement, Russell? Did they switch up your meds? Did you start early today?
I was just nominated for a shorty.
Lest anyone think I’ve been living under a park bench, many people don’t know what this significant tribute to my talent means. So it wasn’t just me.
I investigated, and was initially disappointed that it’s not made out of any precious metal or negotiable commodity, and carries no cash award. Unlike the Nobel. If anyone wants to nominate me for one of those, now THAT would get me fired up. A million bucks. Think of the ocean of tequila that would buy! But I digress, as I often do. The point is that someone nominated me, and being the competitive animal that I am, I naturally want to win. Unless placing second pays. In which case, we’re number TWO, we’re number TWO!
As far as I can tell, it’s all about creating short content. As in tweets. Or maybe it’s short words. Or short ideas. Given that I have been writing the same book now a dozen times, I think it’s safe to say that I am as short on concepts as I am on patience after a mean drunk. So I should win.
Be that as it may, I’m up against some pretty significant talent. JK Rowling, who as I’m sure you all know produces prodigious quantities of masterfully-crafted tweets. Or maybe that should read “is the biggest selling author in the world.” I think she wrote the bible or something. Maybe it was Twilight or Chicken Soup for the Caged Bird. I’m pretty sure there were vampires. I really have to catch up on my reading. But she’s big.
This is where I need to suck up to you all, and beg you to vote for me, so that I can snatch victory from the jaws of whatever is masticating it. As with Chicago elections, please vote early and often. I’m hoping I win, so I can grope some supermodels or hang out with Kiefer for a few pops. Maybe I’ll show up lit and swing a tequila bottle at the MC. Very Ricky Gervais, only without the wit or money.
So please vote for me, @Blakebooks, so you can watch me humiliate myself before an audience of literally dozens. I’m listed under Authors, no doubt because they don’t have a category for man thong model, or ice dancer, or clown hunter. If I’m elected, I’ll wear the Russeller for some exposure – no pun intended – sales of which are down now that the weather’s colder. You don’t have to be a U.S. citizen to vote (or be elected to many offices, apparently), so if you won’t vote for me, I’ll need to get the boys in Bangalore tippy tapping away and stuffing the ballot box in my favor. I’ll do it. Don’t test me. I just hope they’ll take a two-party out of state check with no ID, because I think my last payment to them for writing a few of my trilogies got lost in the mail. It happens.
To summarize. Nominate me for a Nobel, so I can sneer at Bono contemptuously. Absent that, vote for me for a shorty – because I’ve still got mad love for the streets and am keeping it real for my homies in the joint. But mostly vote for me because you are a sick, demented f#ckwad who would delight in watching our cherished institutions tarnished by yours truly putting in an appearance.
If elected, I promise not to let you down. Which you can bank on like so many other election promises.
That is all. You can vote HERE by typing in @Blakebooks and Author, and entering some drivel about why you’re voting. Hint: paid off isn’t a good entry. It can be our little secret.
So vote. For me. Until your fingers bleed. Do so to strike a blow against clowns, and because I love kitties, puppies, apple pie, Grandma, the flag and whatever else you need to hear. Do it for yourself. Because this is your time in the sun. Climb the mountain of success that is your birthright and reach your strong arms out to clutch the fruit of victory from the tree of bounty! A vote for me is a vote against your despicable enemies, who I will vow to destroy, crushing their bones into jelly beneath my relentless heels so you can dance a victory jig on their cold, dank graves, their last memories being of dying shivering and alone in a sewage ditch covered with frenzied fire ants and centipedes and broken glass/razor blades/whatever else you like with the realization that you, and you alone, are responsible for their defeat and humiliation, their legacy forgotten moments after their last gurgling breath exits as a death rattle.
Thank you. Love, XOXO – Oh, and if you like this page, hit the small green StumbleUpon button below and share the love.