I'd Call Myself "DVR-Man"

Please tell me that Nos Populus' description doesn't read like this:

The Clueless Dead is written as a vampire story from the male perspective and to counter a large number of annoying themes that have become prevalent in several works of vampire fiction. My character is an ordinary guy, a professional musician (but not a rockstar). He is transformed into a vampire as a result of a series of coincidences. He then must deal with the consequences of having vampire powers as well as the temptations involved in possessing the ability to mentally manipulate people, besides the spiritual quandary of being a vampire and a Christian.

To the guy who wrote that, to Keith Greenwood, author of The Clueless Dead: well done. Seriously. You put yourself out there, didn't pull your punches. Me? I draped myself in inches-thick armor and tried to look just enigmatic enough for surely-jaded agents and publishers. They're not as cruel as the Internet, but they have a fair bit more power over your dreams, so the way you carry yourself ends up looking just as awkward. Only weeks after self-publishing Nos Populus, I realized the vampiric route might've been more successful. At least then I could say I had really gone for it.

No one wants to read something written by a 25-year old. I get that. I spent seven years on Nos Populus and if it wasn't in shape to publish at that stage, it was never going to be. But if after seven years of work, my only other option was to let it rot on a flash drive that will itself be outmoded inside of ten years... well.

Self-publishing, like writing, is an honorable and demeaning bitch goddess. No reasonable person would ever say that the people who do it deserve more respect than proper-published authors. But they go for it, knowing full well that lesser writing is getting obscene advances and that they themselves will probably never make it. It's a special kind of delusion and they're doing everything in their power to materialize a goal that would've been far more absurd just twenty years ago.

I have few regrets about publishing my practice novel. A few syntax errors. My plot structure wasn't ideal, either. But I don't think it's bad. Sometimes Frequently, the most noble option is to keep walking. Worry about finding a direction later. I'm not done with Nos Populus just yet (still for sale) and I'm going to be trying something new with it; I'll let you know about that. But close to two years on, I have to focus on what's next.

Now if only I could freeze time. Ooh, and maybe I could also reverse time. And make it go forward. Just manipulating time in minor chunks, basically. On the order of a couple of hours each direction. Not enough to truly screw things up, but enough to stop (cause?) crime. That would be so sweet.

... Tangents like these don't help the writing process much, do they?