I would have preferred not to give Mr. Max free publicity, but since the thread is here, we must adjust.
Looks like what 'ol Tuckulus is offering here is just a ghostwriting service.
Basically: You pay me a huge pile of money, and I churn out your book.
Yay.
So, it's the type of service that's going to be used by someone who has more dollars than sense, someone who is too lazy or empty to sit down and actually write a book. Someone who wants shortcuts.
Hell, if you're going to do this, why not just hire a court reporter to take your deposition, convert it to Word format, slap a cover on it, and go from there?
What makes a book a book is the grueling, arduous process of actually writing it out by the author, alone in his study. There are no shortcuts. There are no easy-outs. There is only brute labor. It is the blood of the martyr that makes a book, Tuckulus. Did you hear me? I know you're reading this, Tuckmaster Flex.
If the droplets of sweat are not running off your forehead onto the inky pages of your manuscript, your passion isn't there. If the white-hot fury of inspiration causes you to leap out of bed at 2:00 am with that perfect sentence--that perfect turn of phrase--then you have the right idea.
It is this supreme generative act--this agonizing act of giving birth--that is what makes a true work of literature from a cut-and-pasted hack job. No book worth reading was ever ghost-written.
And this is what separates the true creators from the "Cntrl V" warriors. If you're not willing to grind it out, you shouldn't bother.
All this, of course, is beside the point. 'Ol Tuckulus doesn't give a shit about literary achievement. He cares about taking a pile of cash and churning and burning.
Fine. Good for him.
Quality will always rise to the top.
Looks like what 'ol Tuckulus is offering here is just a ghostwriting service.
Basically: You pay me a huge pile of money, and I churn out your book.
Yay.
So, it's the type of service that's going to be used by someone who has more dollars than sense, someone who is too lazy or empty to sit down and actually write a book. Someone who wants shortcuts.
Hell, if you're going to do this, why not just hire a court reporter to take your deposition, convert it to Word format, slap a cover on it, and go from there?
What makes a book a book is the grueling, arduous process of actually writing it out by the author, alone in his study. There are no shortcuts. There are no easy-outs. There is only brute labor. It is the blood of the martyr that makes a book, Tuckulus. Did you hear me? I know you're reading this, Tuckmaster Flex.
If the droplets of sweat are not running off your forehead onto the inky pages of your manuscript, your passion isn't there. If the white-hot fury of inspiration causes you to leap out of bed at 2:00 am with that perfect sentence--that perfect turn of phrase--then you have the right idea.
It is this supreme generative act--this agonizing act of giving birth--that is what makes a true work of literature from a cut-and-pasted hack job. No book worth reading was ever ghost-written.
And this is what separates the true creators from the "Cntrl V" warriors. If you're not willing to grind it out, you shouldn't bother.
All this, of course, is beside the point. 'Ol Tuckulus doesn't give a shit about literary achievement. He cares about taking a pile of cash and churning and burning.
Fine. Good for him.
Quality will always rise to the top.