True story:
Many moons ago, when your Overlord and Savior was a scrawny, waxy 19/20-year-old student, I held down a job at a popular electronics department store. For the most part, it was a fun gig.
I liked my co-workers, the yearly dinners out to TGI Fridays never got old, and the pay funded the petrol for my beaten-up Peugeot 206 and weekend trips to the nightclubs.
Not bad.
But at the end of each year, the managers would become restless and easily get their skirts in a tangle as the branch prepared for the busiest sales period of the year…
CHRISTMAS 🎄
So much so that I started developing a deep loathing for the festivities.
I remember one day being called into the security room, where the assistant manager, Vincent, absolutely ripped into me for the state of the stock. This was where we kept all our high-value software products, and thinking back on it, Vincent was right.
It was a mess.
But not one I created.
I had no idea who did (probably the guys on the earlier shift) and neither did the manager, yet here I was taking the flak for someone else’s laziness.
THAT DIDN’T GO DOWN WELL WITH ME.
But being a money-stricken student on minimum wage who wanted to party on the weekend, I assured him I’d clean up the stockroom before the end of my shift knowing full well I wouldn’t.
So, I left the secured room, sped across the shop floor, and regaled the tale to my pal, Scott, in the warehouse who couldn’t believe it.
I remember yelling over the music we’d always blast, “Vincent can f**k off if he thinks I’m going to clean up the stockroom."
In that moment, Scott’s face sank as his gaze travelled over my shoulder. Eyes wide, he reached over and turned down the music.
No, no, I thought to myself. It can’t be.
I craned around and there Vincent was, standing some 10 feet away from me with his tucked-in shirt and hands resting over his belt line.
AT THAT MOMENT, I HAD TWO OPTIONS:
1. Drop to my knees and kiss the ring.
2. Stand my ground.
Seasoned Legionnaires probably know which one I chose, but for the Liegelings fresh off the turnip truck and new to my wily ways, let’s just say…
I maintained my position.
After a lot of finger-jabbing and me telling him that it was unacceptable ordering me to clean up someone else’s mess, something interesting happened.
I was fully prepared to be fired on the spot, but instead, Vincent strode to me and put a hand on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll find out who did it.”
😳 HIS RESPONSE FLOORED ME.
Now, I’m not saying he liked me after that, but I do believe in some small way, he respected me for standing up for myself.
There are not many 19-year-old, pimply, testosterone-dumping kids who have the gall to do what I did, but I figured if I was going to get the sack, I might as well go down fighting. And, on this occasion, it worked out.
He never spoke down to me again after that day.
Sadly, however, we never did find out who left the stockroom in such a mess.
Anyway, that was the last “proper” job I ever had.
After that came years of freelancing that allowed me to spend several months in Cyprus with Lady Laura and left me with enough time to start taking this fiction gig more seriously.
Did those years come without conflict and trouble-free clients?
Like hell did it.
BUT ONE THING BECAME CLEARER THAN THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA I MISS WAKING UP TO EVERY MORNING:
I wasn’t cut out to have a boss. I’m far too rebellious in nature.
That’s not a slight on managers or employees — it’s just simply ME.
And whether you’ve been lurking around these parts for 5 months or 5 minutes, you can tell this by the way I’ve set up my publishing business.
I don’t do things the traditional way. For example:
+ I don’t rely on Amazon or any other book retailer.
+ I promote my own store 99% of the time.
+ I write fun and occasionally questionable daily newsletters as opposed to stale monthly ones.
And when it comes to fantasy:
+ I don’t write 1,000-page tomes
+ Nor do I feature dragons, orcs, or Elvish-speaking characters.
+ And I most certainly don’t spend exorbitant amounts of time describing every inch of a tavern like some novels do.
WILL THIS APPEAL TO ALL FANTASY READERS?
No.
But that’s okay.
The few people it does appeal to are likely the kind of boys and girls I’d love to have a pint of stout with anyway. And after all, isn’t that why you and I are here in your inbox right now?
To seek something different, something fresh?
If you’ve nodded to any of this, then just know you’re in the right place, Legionnaire.
And if you happen to be in the market for fantasy that is gritty, fast-paced, and unapologetic, then here’s where you can find it:
https://djjwatsonstore.com/products/divided-region-starter-bundle
DJJW