I nearly died laughing when this came over the feedreader. My ribcage is still a bit sore. Apparently, some joker sent around a MySpace bulletin offering book doctoring services for an absurd amount of money. Zoe posted a hilarious parody of it on TODP.
As you may know, I’ve written a few books, so I knows a thing or two about making writings gooder. I had POD success with one book, which my mommy liked, and which sold 75 copies! The other two were…um…well received by reviewers…yeah, that’s the ticket.
So, if you long for this kind of success, please send me your story, a postage paid package to ship it back, and a bottle of M-D 20/20. After I’ve gotten really drunk, I will laugh at your lousy book and write “fuck you” in red crayon on every other page. Then I’ll pee on the stack and mail it back to you.
Of course, this in no way is a promise that your story will sell to a real publisher, but with my many successes in the POD field, (which is to say, one) I knows talent, and I thinks you can has it, with my help, of course. If you’re really serious about publishing, you should totally take me up on this offer. Cause like, there’s other POD writers charging as much as $20 for the same service. Just the other day, I saw NP making the same offer to pee on a manuscript for a dollar and a signed, flaming copy of TP IV. (Those are ultra-rare, and they don’t last long on the shelves, let me tell you!)
If you want my help, let me know. Oh, and I’m also free weekends to work as a clown for you children’s birthdays, now that the last family dropped the charges. Thank you, and go visit my web site.
Zoe E. Whitten
Reminds me a little of something Kristy might have offered before her dues-paying organization, Next Generation Writers, crashed and burned. Remember Kristy? She was a real piece of work.
I think I hit a nerve with my previous entry. Today, Mr. Pacione felt compelled to explain his MySpace policy.
I don’t want the fucks from the other dark place stealing my blog entries, yes this is a common practice for them too. The fact they bragged about pirating books too and that pissed me off to no end the fact they are sending prank mails too which is a crock of shit. The fact we had to change our number one more time here because of the assholes that is a crock of shit, my family don’t need that. Not now, not ever.
Sure, he had to change his number again. If anyone is calling Granny, which I highly doubt, it’s most likely to be someone in Chicagoland, not someone from TODP. He needs to stop and think for a moment where his enemies are located — the enemies he’s made in person over the years, not merely the people he ticks off on a daily basis over the internet.
The rubber ducky was hilarious, but it’s far from harassment. Besides, it came from OK, not from northern IL. Unless the rubber ducky made the phone calls, I fail to see the connection. What this tells me is that he has no idea whatsoever who’s responsible for anything, so he accuses whatever convenient scapegoat pops into his pea-brain. It’s a “Who do I feel like hating today?” type of mentality.
Mr. Pacione has another entry on Blogspot today. The gist of it is a screed against the folks at TODP, who he blames for passing around e-copies of his memoir.
. . . so right now I am more than pissed, and want to kill someone for doing this shit.
It is never cool to kill someone just because you’re peeved about something. Eliminating the competition never makes a career flourish.
Do you hear me asshole, I am not a fucking failure.
Is that supposed to be a question? Of course Mr. Pacione’s a failure. If his stories were selling, he wouldn’t whine about lost sales all the time.
I was proving a point with that book and my point was proven ten times over with people having a high school mentality when it comes to someone publishing themselves.
The only point that book proves, which is undoubtedly unintentional, is that Pacione himself has never progressed mentally past high school. One would think that he’d have moved on after thirteen years, but that simply isn’t so.
You assholes stalk the hell out of me to no end.
Obviously, Pacione has a strange concept of what stalking really is. Nobody’s leaving him nasty comments on his blogs the way he does on this one. I would hope that nobody’s calling granny’s house. There are no people sneaking around the bushes, lying in wait.
Happy Labor Day, everyone! This morning brings another screed from Mr. Pacione on his Blogspot.
I guess the Other Dark Place are wanting to be dicks about me when I am trying to ignore the asshole convention forming over there. I got a book to write and a deadline to meet with the book being done.
What deadline is that, I wonder? I can’t imagine that anyone at Lulu or Lightning Source set a deadline for the tell-all memoir.
Overall, the entry is rambling, and mentions TODP, Dan, Susan, R.J. Sevin, and Brian Keene for imagined slights. There’s nothing new, really.
Face it you all hate my guts, and don’t like the fact I did get legitimate sales under my belt as a short story writer . . .
I’d like to know how many people over the age of 16 bought anything of Mr. Pacione’s, and what their IQs are. Seventy nine doesn’t qualify for Mensa, yet Mr. Pacione bragged a couple of years ago that it was his IQ, thinking it near brilliant.
Personally, I don’t hate his guts; he’s contemptible, probably pitiable as well. But, he’s amusing to follow as he spews venom against the world. It really doesn’t require much of my time.
The way I interpret his latest blog entry is a simple marketing ploy to drum up sales for his harmless memoir. I’ll entertain other theories, though.
This is laughable; it’s from Mr. Pacione’s August 24, 2007 Blogspot entry, “thrown off Journalfen.net — big fucking deal.”
At least I am getting paid for my stories I write now.
By whom? If he is getting paid, why hasn’t he used the proceeds to pay the authors in TPIII and TPIV?
This line in particular is hilarious:
You can even get your new “friend” at The Rusty Nail to publish your fiction.
The Rusty Nail isn’t a publishing house. “Rusty Nail Publishing, LLC” has a nice ring to it, though.
Pacione takes a potshot at Jim Riser:
The Other Dark Place — I know you assholes are already chiming in so stay the fuck out of it. This is an old score. Riser this includes you, fucking punk. This is an old score that I am settling and this has nothing do to with you wankers.
As far as I know, all Mr. Riser did to Mr. Pacione was refuse to publish a story of his. So have many others.