Allow me to introduce myself

The parking lot, that’s where I know you from

If there were a list of things I never thought I’d do, this would be 1 through 100. I didn’t think I’d ever write a blog to share my thoughts with strangers, at least not without alcohol involved. I didn’t think I’d ever design a website. I didn’t think that I’d ever have the need to promote anything. Ever. I didn’t think that I’d ever have to garner the interest of random people, digital passers-by and potential fans. I didn’t ever imagine that I’d be skyping with a dude in India about how to hook a mailing list up. I never thought that my anxiety could swell beyond the heady caps of fear and doubt that already pummel the inside of my skull on a day to day basis. Above all, I didn’t think that I’d ever get tired of alone time. Almost.

Well fuck, here we are.

My name is Corey and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

Now that all the formalities have been settled, I suppose that I should get down to business. This website is, at this point in time at least, the best that I can do with my own untrained hand. This whole company is hand-stitched fuckery and there will be plenty of bugs to flick off and relocate. We here at Fly Pelican Press don’t kill spiders. Grass snakes and rats are another story. If you see something amiss, be it a word misspelled or anything that could be improved, please let me know. Then, quit acting all high & mighty, I’m new to this madness. This process is a bold new planet for me to leave tracks upon, and my movements are still fairly clunky. You can refer to the Goods page where I’ve crudely drawn covers and freestyled summaries of my upcoming titles. Even better, the Info pages that read like the ramblings of a madman. Hell, enjoy the motherfucking stock photos that I should replace, but don’t know how to find better images. I mean, I can find images, but not everything needs a graphic.

To be honest, if the website looks cheap, it’s partly a lack of desire to shell out any more ducats than I already have on this endeavor. It’s also because this company really is Independent as Fuck, and that always comes with a little lack of varnish or smear of paint.

Allow me to put it this way.

I’m a single parent struggling to make ends meet, keep a roof overhead, load a plate, keep your tummies full, get you to school and keep you dipped so no one rips on the hem of your slacks. Ol’ Papa Croft is getting to the age where you can see his stress fissures and lack-of-speed wobbles.

Do you (if applicable) remember the day when you found out your parents weren’t rich. It may have been when you were very young, it may have been never. The day that money suddenly mattered and you realized that some just had more than others. Than you. I’m talking to those who were lucky enough to realize that their parents were just people. Young people without a oaken plan, surviving with kids and trying their best to not sink into the tenebrous depths of depression and destitution, all the while raising children with all their might and love and trying to keep them in a meticulous state of youth-spun ignorance. One day, you witnessed an overdue bill or kitchen table crying-session and became cognizant that no, your parents weren’t superhumans, they were just people who had to fight to breath and were dragging you lovingly alongside them.

Yeah, something like that. That’s what me and this site are. Transparent. It’ll take time for you to figure this bitch out. Anything worthwhile does. Trial and error, toe stubs and chin scrapes.

If you want to come along, we’re in this together, my little bastards!

I have a theory that a hero is nothing without his or her vulnerabilities. You’re only as strong as your ability to overcome weaknesses. I don’t mind if this site is not as ‘streamlined’ or elegant as possible. It’s real, shit. I value the content, the real content. This is mostly because I have to focus on the strengths. Secondly, because that’s the optimism I’ve chosen to pad my pessimism with, baby.

And for real, I don’t want to spend more loot on this fucker. Shit is pricey and I ain’t sold one goddamn book yet.

You can visit glossy, custom made sites and find nothing of interest or value. You can have all the pomp and superficial substance in the world, but it’s all for nothing if you don’t have a reason to stay. I want to give you a reason to stay. All of this is to say that for what the site lacks in aesthetics and shit that moves, I want to have content worthy of keeping you as my houseguest. I’ll sweeten the deal by giving you a tier in the fridge.

The Blog section is my breeze-shooting soundboard for topics that I may have thought of before, and others that I may have simply given a cursory glance to. I promise to leave the filter out and not edit the balls of those beasts, giving y’all a raw and tasty morsel, like an oyster, once a week. It’s been a weird year, man, and I have a feeling that it’s going to get a whole lot weirder before I can make sense of it.

I won’t dive into my biography too deeply here. This is just a little diddy mainly meant to see if this damn thing is working. If it is, then you’re reading this. If it isn’t, shit, you’ll never know, will you? We’re back to the whole ‘if a tree falls on a mime’ thing.

At the risk of rambling so early in this stupid blog’s tenure, I will say a few final things. This site and its content is what it is. It is, at this point at least, one dude and the way he sees the world (with the hope that he can convince you to buy his books). Its meaninglessness is manipulated through his eyes and regurgitated through the symphony of his character defects and use of the English language. Look mom, third person! These writings are not indicative of published works, but offer a pleasant reminder that there’s a real person working the switchboard with cold coffee at ungodly hours. There’s a pilot in the cockpit of this burning plane. There’s a real voice to accompany the one you hear in your head.

Parenthetic note: Whose voice do you read in? Is it yours? When you read the opposite gender, do you just hear your voice made higher or lower by emulating the tone of a particular man or woman? If you’re from North America, do you read Sherlock Holmes in a British accent? What about characters of other nationalities? Or aliens?

Feel free to give me feedback at any time. I feel like the worst thing (and I’m mega guilty of this) is to say nothing. Not letting a creative know if you love, like, hate or don’t care about their work. Let me know how I’m doing, while I still care.  I look forward to having dialogue with people about anything, and will continue to do so until I make enough money to say fuck it and either seclude myself in a cabin or drink myself to an early and totally deserved demise. Join my subscription list and follow me on other social media pages that I will surely forget exist. There are a lot of things to remember, and I truly have no idea how Twitter works.

Thanks for your time. You could be anywhere in the world right now, but you chose to be here.


11 thoughts on “Allow me to introduce myself

  1. Excellent. Raw, real and I totally read this post in your voice- I guess my memory has stored away some bartender Corey yelling out across the bar at Robson and the tone and pitch seemed very authentic. LOL. Keep ’em comin’ Corey, I’m very curious your book???

  2. I admit I got the luxury of hearing YOUR voice in my head. That intro was refreshing to say the least dude. The syncopation of your language and the content is raw and real man. You one fly pelican buddy, aaaawwaaa!!!

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