Reading Is Important You Dumb Assholes!

The world is full a dumb assholes. And the dumbest a the dumb are those dumb motherfuckers who don’t wanna read. I only got two words for you:

“Fuck you!”

I was one a those assholes a long time ago. Fact is, any time I saw a book attached to someone’s hands, that was a sign that person needed his ass kicked. And if a female happened to be holding that book, she deserved to get fucked up the ass as hard as I could do it. My intention was to draw blood, cuz seeing people read caused me more pain than Big Ole Cock up the poop chute.

But I’ve changed my tune. Ever since Janice’s death, when I tried to write my account of my relationship with her, which you can buy here for only $.99, I learned writing is a very hard thing to do well. There’s grammar, for starters. I still ain’t very good at it, but the more I read, the more I learn.

Then there’s scenes. You can’t really build a story without a bunch od scenes. It’s really tricky to make a scene that gets the reader’s undivided attention. I think I get close to that point once in a while but I ain’t the best judge.

Structure is even tougher to handle. A lot a people think there’s only one structure and for all I know they’re right. I just haven’t read enough to figure out if there’s more than one. I had the idea that Notes From Underground might shake thing up but I ain’t read it yet. So I don’t know.

When I write my shit I try to follow that main structure. There’s a lot a people that do it; it’s tried and true. Ain’t no skin off of my nuts if I don’t reinvent the wheel everytime I set out to write a fiction.

But the real important thing you learn when you read is about patterns. Our brains are patters machines, little looms trying to make tapestries out a the raw materials of life all around us. We look at the world, see the chaos, and try to make sense of it all by organizing all of what we see into abstract patterns. That’s what I learned by reading. The better you can do this, the better writer you’re gonna be.


A Vampire Here, A Vampire There; or, What the Hell is Bob Collins Up to Now?

Okay, let’s get one thing straight — I know I’m a fuck-up. I don’t need some douche bag reminding me every minute of my life that anything near to me eventually gets ruined. I understand it. I been watching it happen for damn near forty years. It ain’t gonna chane no matter how much you tell me it should.

I’m working on another story. Most of my time is spent in the boardinghouse either reading or writing. If you know anything about Bob Collins you know he don’t jump on no bandwagons. That’s why I, Bob Collins, would like to announce he is working on a vampire story.

But it ain’t like other vampire stories. This is a Bob Collins vampire story. So what does that mean? There’s a lot of sex and whores. Why should I change the way I live my life just because some vampires get involved. It’s still in its first draft, but I expect the climax, as in most a my work, to be something special.

What other news do I have? I popped a zit today. It was on my shoulder. Now it’s all over the wall.

I know there is a version of my autobiographical novella at the Kindle store. But it’s a flawed version. I’m working on a brand new polish for that sonofabitch and I expect it to be done and up for sale by the end of the month. It’s only 99 cents. That ain’t a bad price for a few laughs and some sex scenes. If you haven’t checked it out yet, what are you waiting for? Grow some nuts. Live a little.

I was gonna say something else but I have like 19 beers in my system. So that’s it.


Bob Collins Shares His Thoughts on Reading

I don’t know how many people know about my journey, but I wasn’t always the literate son of a bitch I am now. When I graduated high school I could barely read. As far as I was concerned reading was for dopes and anybody who wanted to spend hours a day with a bunch of papers shoved in their face was someone I didn’t want to know.

But how different I am now that I’ve grown up. I can’t read enough now. My life seemed so empty before I cracked open my first book, but now it’s stuffed full of stuff–like a stuffed pepper.

I’m constantly aware of how much time I missed growing up. The people who’ve grown up reading probably have a few hundred books under their belts that I’ll never be able to read. I feel like I’m working at a deficit. There will never be enough time for me to catch up.

But that’s where I have an advantage. Living in the States, or Europe, I’d have to spend every waking hour trying to earn money, but living in the developing world I can live on ten dollars a day. That’s three hundred dollars a month. This is the only way I can make up all of the lost time of my teenage years, wasted as they were on drugs, alcohol, and sex. Businessmen do this all the time. They call it leveraging. I leverage the cost of living here where I live in order to free up my time for important projects. Like reading. And turning my life stories into an incredible series of ebooks.

And reading.

I find myself reading almost all the time now.

I carry around hundreds of free classics in my pocket. Whenever I sit down, I pull out my device and start reading. You could even find me wandering around the streets with the device in front of my face. Each word I read builds my brain. For years I was an ignorant son of a bitch, as you can see in The Adventures of Bob Collins (vol. 1). American culture had crushed me into a stupid, ignorant idiot, and I didn’t have no way to escape it.

As I gradually started reading, and traveling, the way I thought changed. The TV showed me this real narrow way to think, but then books by all of these real smart people gave me a totally new way to look at life. I’ll always be grateful to the people who’ve spent decades learning how to think and learning how to write so that I could improve my life.

That’s what it really comes down to. Improving life. Book improve life. Reading improves life. Writing improves life.

But there’s one caveat. You have to read the good stuff. Teenage vampire romances just don’t cut it. Adults reading YA novels scares me. Adults should be adults, not overgrown teenagers. That’s something else I’ve learned in my travels. The only way you can really be an adult is to be on your own.