And he is a complete asshole.
That’s right. Not only did he talk about his book, Wool, blabbering on for nearly an hour about how awesome it is, (what did he think this was a book signing? Geez!) he talked about how he’s helped change the atmosphere of publishing by holding out for the contract he wanted. You know, not selling his soul for a measly seven figure contract. Chump change, my friends.
This guy, this self-centered asshat thinks that his art, that his soul is worth more, so he held out until he got the non-compete clause removed. He turned everyone down until Simon and Shuster gave up all of the Ebook rights. Who does Mr. Howey think he is keeping 100% of his Ebook royalties? I mean, he’s just a writer. A writer!!!! With this sort of example writers everywhere will start demanding fair treatment. They’ll start acting like their writing is a business. They’ll expect to be seen as equals!!! What is the publishing world coming to? This can only end badly.
Then he tried reverse psychology on us. ‘Don’t read, I, Zombie,’ he said. ‘I don’t want anyone reading that.’
Oh really? He ‘claimed’ it was based on his PTSD from 911 during his time living in New York. If I had a dime for every author who said that. Sure, go ahead and be a real person. Have real problems and don’t be afraid to relate them to your fans. It’s not like we’ll believe you.
When one fan admitted to having already read it, he even went so far as to question if he was an idiot. My god, man. What is wrong with you? We’re on to you now Mr. Howey. I’m reading it just to spite you, haha!
And to top it all, he refused to sit in the King Henry the VIII chair behind the table set up just for him. Said he wouldn’t be able to see everyone, and then he took a picture of us, the AUDIENCE!! Like we were … special. UGH!
I mean, WTH? Since when do famous people act like… you know. People? Or not care about being nauseatingly rich? Or say things like, ‘I like being independently published because I can get my work to my fans faster and keep my Ebook prices low.’
I have a headache, and not because I skipped dinner to get there early for a front row seat. Definitely not because I’m coming down off my high since meeting an author I’d like to emulate business-wise. Puleeeze! I have a headache because of the saccharine overload.
People this real do not exist anymore, outside of fiction at least. They’re not that sarcastically dry-witted. They’re not that ingratiating or self-deprecating. They’re not that interesting. (scuba diving? boat captain? bookstore employee? OMG.) They’re not that humble. And they’re most definitely not that business savvy.
Therefore, Mr. Hugh Howey has to be an asshole masquerading as a cool dude. Either that or a cyborg programmed to destroy the publishing establishment. Because he’s not real. And that’s a shame because I had a blast at the cyborg’s book signing.
Maybe the next one will be for real.
I’ll dare to hope. :o)