Excuses, excuses

Following my last piece, a number of readers have written in, offering …

Wait, wait. What’s this stuff about readers? Is that the right term? Can you lot really be described as readers, or is there a better word for what you are - and furthermore, one that you will be happy to answer to?

Maybe it would be more accurate to refer to you as subscribers - but that’s not quite right either. Being a subscriber implies some sort of contract and — let’s be honest — getting sent ‘New blog from Omnivorist’ emails every other day is not something you ever signed up for.

How about devotees? Now there’s a word with a nice ring to it.

All the same, there’s the undeniable fact that while devotees might be nice to have they’re not always so nice to be, besides which, having devotees — tending them, nurturing them and so on — sounds like an awful lot of work. In any case, I really can’t see the people who read my stuff being happy to think of themselves as devotees — however much they might enjoy it. Might as well go the whole hog and call them disciples while we’re at it.

Followers might work — it is very popular and has a wide currency on social media. It is still not quite right though. To describe someone as a follower suggests a dull-witted, bovine compulsion to munch-up whatever is placed in front of them — something which certainly can’t be said of you lot. It’s difficult enough even to get you to click on the link.

I wouldn’t really have a problem with the readers thing were it not for the fact that it reminds me of those lamps: the very expensive and incredibly bright ones, designed for the kind of old people who are flattered to be classed as Serious Readers.

Of course the very term Serious Reader implies there is another sort, namely the non-serious reader or the flippant reader — you know, the kind of person whose reading of Jane Austen’s celebrated opening line, might go something like:

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be ........... whatever !”

No the serious reader is one who approaches the written word with a degree of quiet determination. The first sentence is read, then the second followed by the third. Then the third sentence is read again and then the fourth begun … until the eyelids droop and the chin sinks slowly onto the chest. An unseen hand flicks off the lamp and the room is silent save for the sound of gentle snoring:

xorghf, xorghf, xagagagakkk

So where was I ?

Yes, that was it: following my last piece, a number of readers have written in, offering all sorts of excuses as to why they still haven’t bought a copy of The Wisdom of Wormwood.

Here are just a few of them, starting with the paltry ones:

I won’t have the time to read it
   Be honest - that’s not really true right now is it?

I don’t like being pressured into buying things.
   Go away, come back later and pretend you found it all by yourself.

I fear that buying a copy will only encourage you to write more.
   There is always that risk.

I don’t want to spend £2.99 without being absolutely sure that it’s any good 
   Let me assure you: it is very good indeed — better than you could possibly imagine. 

I’ll do it tomorrow
   Yeah, yeah.

And then there are the legitimate excuses:

I don’t have a device capable of running Kindle. 
Having vowed to renounce Bezos and all his works, I refuse to buy things on Amazon.
I have never really liked your stuff anyway.

Fair enough