“What? Speechless in awe of my greatness?” I ask.
“No, I’m just a little confused why you’re doing this.” You explain. “It’s kind of lame and ruins the ending.”
“Oh… what doesn’t ruin the ending for you people.” I snort. “I do something, I piss off half of you, I fix it, and I piss off the other half. Maybe… just maybe… this isn’t about YOU.”
“Well, I mean, I’m the main character of the story.”
I look down at you, a displeased look on my face. “Yes… you are the main character. Aren’t you? Everything is supposed to go your way, all the time. God forbid you must struggle or do anything entertaining. Just stick your cock out and get all the women and all the money and all the magic. How nice it is to be you. Meanwhile…I spend ten times as long to write it as you take to read it, and I get shit every time I write anything one of you wouldn’t personally do. Every time I don’t mind fuck the entire room and instantly resolve everything, I have to listen to two or three people bitching about how much of an absolute psychopath you apparently should have been.”
“No… no, let’s have this conversation, reader.” I gesture and make a chair which I sit down on comfortably. “Let’s get this out in the open. It’ll be fucking therapeutic.”
“I think… maybe… you whine a bit too much?” You suggest.
“Hehe… I whine… that… that’s fucking classic. You see, that’s the problem with you reader-types. The way you talk to content creators, you’d think we were your personal bitch.”
“Um… how do you suggest we talk to you?”
“I don’t know… how would you talk to a parent? A police officer? A teacher? A human being you respect? I can guarantee you, that’s not how most of you talk to me. You’ll argue with me about the things I write… telling me how characters I created don’t met your expectations. I try to put something interesting into the story, and you practically riot because it doesn’t make your penis happy, so I undo it, and then you complain about how uneven or unexpected to the writing is! A gigapenis is too strange, you say. I only like stories that rape little girls, you say. I stopped reading after chapter 50 cause it stopped being a circlejerk fantasy, you say.
“I even paid for illustrations, oh, don’t even get me started on that. Half of you ignore them, and half of you complain about them. The amount of crap I’ve gotten over those illustrations. It’s like someone handing you icecream, and you shoving it in their face because it’s just vanilla.
“Oh, but Whizzer, why didn’t you hire this person I know who costs $100 per picture. I’ve legitimately had people telling me to spend $100 per image out of my own money to hire a “professionals” to draw my stuff. This is the only way they’d be satisfied. Because only then is my work legitimate enough, apparently. You know, I order 5 ero images per released volume of PoC. That’d be $500 you’d want me to spend to publish per volume just for the erotic content! Then I guess the cover would be another $100. Let’s not even get into the portraits.
“I painfully create Volumes of PoC, spending 20-30 hours editing, writing, formatting, and organizing. Do you know how many sales I get? Maybe 5. Yeah… $25… that’s how much PDFs make me. Sure, it’s an incentive for Patreon supporters… but it never really earned much. It’s just a convenience I do for you guys which you respectfully don’t give a shit about it. Half of you whine that my pdf isn’t an epub! You say it’s too small for your phones, because you’re too stupid to understand how “zoom” works. The only way I could please you little shits is if I did everything, and then you’d find some other way to complain about that!”
“Is this going to keep going?” you ask. “I’m going to go read something else.”
“And there it is… you fickle-fickle fuckers. You wonder why your content isn’t better quality? You wonder why writers keep dropping your favorite novel 50 chapters in? Here’s your fucking sign. You want, want, want… more, more, more… but you offer nothing… NOTHING… in return. I write a decently grammatically correct novel and I get 2 comments a chapter, 90% of the time one of them is there to inform me of a grammar mistake I made. Meanwhile, PLIC is grammatical nightmare, and you eat that shit up, leaving 30-40 comments. Oh, I’m sorry, some of you think PLIC is good. How about YAYD’s NTR system? Count the 20-some comments chapter 16 of that story got compared to the 3 comments I got on chapter 16 of NTR Crush, a supposedly better novel.”
“Oh my god, NTR System got exactly 16 chapters and your first volume of NTR Crush was also 16 chapters! Is that why you stopped volume 1 at 16!?”
“…” I sigh. “What’s the point when no one even gets the fucking joke…”
“Ahem… I mean, I’m pretty sure your Patreon is doing quite well…” You offer, changing the subject.
“Yes… I’m almost making minimum wage. Soon, this job will be superior to flipping burgers at McDonald’s.” I answer dryly. “Never mind the nearly $600 I’ve put back into buying the website, buying the illustrations, spending money to enrich your experiences, which you then proceed to say isn’t enough… that if I don’t spend all the money to hire top illustrators, I shouldn’t bother…”
“You know… there are a lot of readers, everything you complain about, it is only a small fraction who comment and say such things.” You defend.
“You’re right.” I chuckle. “So, what of you silent readers then? What the hell do you guys do? Do you guys come into the conversation and back me up? Do you tell me what I need to fix? No… you guys just keep your fucking mouths closed, because you can spend six hours reading something someone else wrote, but you can’t spend twenty seconds replying to it. And you same readers, you same readers who have “nothing to say” in a chapter of PoC won’t hesitate to respond to Bonded Goddess or PLIC as if they did something so fucking brilliant.”
“Hey… Whizzer, you need a moment or something…”
“Oh, and for every fucking person that asks me if I’m doing alright, FUCK YOU! The only thing that pisses me off more than everything else that pisses me off is that fucking condescending sympathy. Why don’t you just word it how you mean it. ‘You’re still gonna release on time, right?’”
“… I still don’t get how this is supposed to end the Power of Creation…” You shake your head, realizing how off track the both of your have come.
“You’re right!” I stand up. “That was just me airing a bit of my grievances. I suppose, how awful you guys are really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of Power of Creation, right?”
“No, about three hundred chapters ago, I asked you all a question. I asked the readers if they wanted choice in this story. You guys told me no. At that point, I realized the truth about you bastards. You’re all just a bunch of dick-less cowards.”
“Hey! Fuck you!” You flip me off. “If you just popped into this story to insult me a bunch, I’ll just go read something else.”
“Alright… alright. I supposed you deserve to find out my master plan. It’s not like you can stop me anyway. The reason I’m here is because… I’ll tell you next chapter.”
“Oh… fuck y-“