image drip of water

Life, here in Cyprus, is slow, a bit like the slow drip of water from a leaky water pipe. This slow drip is now a reality but it’s a real problem that is hard to fix. In fact, it’s two problems.

The first problem is easily (I hope) fixed with the aid of a plumber. The second is a slow drip I’m wanting to increase; indeed, I want it to gush and not drip at all.

So, issue one is fixed by a plumber because I really do have a leak somewhere. Issue two is to do with my latest novel, The Brittle Sea. Aptly named, because it has a backdrop of water and it too is a slow, slow drip when it comes to sales. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not moaning. I’m more than happy that The Brittle Sea is selling and that so far, I’ve had some great reviews. But what I do find odd is that I can tell many, many people have clicked on my numerous universal links for my book and that a fair percentage have actually downloaded a sample, yet very few seem to be reading it either as a purchased book or via Kindle Unlimited. That I find odd. But, as with all things Amazon, because that’s my only marketplace, it’s so awfully hard to work out why something is occurring. Amazon runs a tight ship (the references to water keep on flowing… sorry!) and never let on why something occurs. I have given away free books for years and readers have downloaded around 80 a month, yet one day, one of my three titles was downloaded over 100 times in a day! Why, Amazon couldn’t or wouldn’t say despite being asked.

Even when it comes to an obvious disparity when one set of records says I’m owed an amount in royalties and another set or records gives me a completely different figure, it’s obvious something isn’t quite right. Something is amiss in the kingdom of Amazon.

But there lies the end of a sorry tale with no meaning or ending

My numero uno drip, on the other hand, is, I hope, a different matter and will be fixed shortly when the plumber arrives. But then again, the only reason I’m writing this is because I was told my plumber would be here in half an hour… and that’s over an hour ago. If it turns out my plumber is named Jeff Bezos, I may well be sailing past you one day in my tin tub, still waiting for my plumber. So ahoy, dear reader and splice your main-brace, whatever that is, while I sing you a sea-shanty… maybe not, I have a voice that can crack an iceberg at thirty paces.


Copyright © Tom Kane 2020



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