Terrible, terrible things

As of this minute, I have done 8342 readings for people in this psychic business (there's another waiting in my queue now). At an average of 250 words per lie... [AHEM!]... per reading, that means I've written over 2,000,000 words of pure crap in the last two-plus years. Over and above all the crap I post to the Worth forums, I mean.

The average novel is maybe 100,000 words or so, unless your name is Michener or Clancy, in which case it might be as many as 1/4-million words. So I've written the equivalent of anywhere from eight to twenty novels. Not one of them a bestseller.

I'm more prolific than the worst romance novelist, but I'm getting paid Wal-Mart wages. That makes me mad! Other professional liars get paid more than that! I could write advertising copy. I could be a political speech writer. I could channel Pleiadian revelations and start a spin-off cult and rake in the dough. But no. I'm below the lowest rung of the writers' ladder. I'm an underachieving "psychic." I'm not even syndicated!

Yes, it's another "I'm depressed because my job is unfulfilling" rant. Poor, poor me. Bah.

I know! Maybe I'll write a novel about a psychic whose predictions, much to his utter amazement, actually begin to come true. It's been done, though. :(

Maybe if I made the protagonist a cynical asshole...

And now for something completely different: I think Johnny is cool, too. Hi Johnny.