Welcome to my Bookish Shenanigans!
...or whatever the hell this is.
I'm burning my business plan and building something weirder. Literary salon? Patronage collective? I'm flying by the seat of my pants here, so expect chaos.
“What does the money machine eat? It eats youth, spontaneity, life, beauty and above all it eats creativity. It eats quality and shits out quantity.”
― William S. Burroughs
I write dark fiction with complex characters who mess with your head. Some people can afford to support my particular brand of madness. Some can't. I think both groups should get to read about Victorian poisoners and dystopian survival skills without checking their bank accounts first.
So I built this experimental honour system where those who can pay enable access for those who can't. It's either brilliant or financial suicide. Probably both.
Check the Case File Index to get an overview.
The Three Tiers of Literary Chaos:
Free Membership: You get my updates and stories about murder and madness. I get readers who appreciate a good psychological breakdown. Nobody asks about your finances. These are invite-only because even my chaos needs occasional boundaries.
Backstage Shenanigans Pass: You're funding my unhealthy obsession with fictional trauma AND keeping stories free for broke bibliophiles. Your money goes toward:
- My writing time (murder doesn't plot itself)
- Platform costs
- Reader scholarships
- Coffee
Friends of Bookish Shenanigans: You magnificent weirdo! You get access to everything, PLUS you're gifting a full scholarship to someone else. Pick your favourite chaos-loving friend, or ask me to find someone.
You can buy a ticket in my bookstore or by clicking the "Join the Chaos" button in the bottom left corner.
What actually happens here:
- I overshare about writing & life disasters
- New stories before algorithms get their hands on them
- Failed experiments documented for your entertainment
- Warm fuzzy feelings of supporting weird art
About money (the awkward bit):
If you're choosing between groceries and my fictional murders, choose groceries. Dead readers can't appreciate good fiction. Take the free membership, no guilt required.
If you've got disposable income and questionable taste in entertainment, your patronage keeps this experiment alive and feeds stories to people who need fictional problems to distract from real ones.
The honour system: Nobody here is checking your tax returns.
Transparency: Yup, we have an Open Book where you can find the number of patrons, scholarships, and where patron money is going.
Still here? Welcome to our strange little experiment in keeping fiction weird, accessible, and disturbing.
—Annelie
P.S. Yes, I suck at being a capitalist. No, I haven't figured out if that's a bug or a feature. Yes, I'm running with it anyway.
P.P.S. If you're panicking about whether you're in the right tier, you probably are. If you're not panicking at all, you might be a psychopath. Either way, welcome home.
P.P.P.S. We have a tip jar!