BRAND ME BABY ALL NIGHT LONG

Okay, I have a brand, right? Right. It’s a grim thing to acknowledge but after all why be euphemistic about it? People buy my book or pay for this newsletter for multiple reasons, but part of it (presumably—I mean the alternative is quite grim to contemplate) would be because they dig me personally. Not, I suspect, as a person—my teeth are terrible, and I find interacting with children difficult, and both are quite charmless, if not morally dubious—but as a figure, a brand, a network of associations. It’s awkward to talk about this, especially when I haven’t written for a while, but let’s entertain the prospect, because I am on the cusp—the very cusp!—of attempting to sell a commercial book for the first time. To sell something you need to know what the brand is. And I do not know what my brand is. So I am once again asking for your help.

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