Today I`d like to reaffirm how important I am. As a bona fide traditional publisher I have access to a lot of connections you misfits could only dream of. I`m talking, of course, about Claridges, Annabells and The Groucho Club. These affiliations and nertworkis go back through generations as I hob nob with the great and the good. This is what makes my business so successful.
However you snivelling wretches hover around social networking sites like flies around shit. Twiddling about on Twitter, farting around with Facebook and goofing on Goodreads. Do you think Shakespeare would`ve wasted his time on such trivia. Of course not!
You stalk media celebrities who don`t give a jot about your existence. They don`t follow back or have any time whatsoever for your so called work. Take Jamie Oliver (Please). Three and half million followers and he only follows five thousand. What does this tell you about the man`s arrogance? Nothing other than it`s greater than mine. Can he write? No but he`s a bestseller!
So, you little twinklings, bury your heads into your laptops. Produce your masterpiece and then come and see me.
I must confess it`s very quiet in here without Tarquin and I`ve no idea how to turn on the fax machine.