The old saying goes somethin like this, "Good things don't come easy." No shit! Just think, if you want that special someone in your life, it isn't easy at all, you really got to work it, you need to be patient, that hot chick isn't just a floozie, she's got brains, it's hard to figure her out, but you keep on thinking, "she's gonna be mine, but what the hell is going on man she's hard to figure out?" But you keep persisting because you know, if you keep chipping away at that stone, something good will present itself, a great relationship, possibly marriage. And then it's not all that easy after that too.
Building the Hoover Dam cost lives, it was a dangerous job, or building the Golden Gate Bridge, cost lots of money, time and also lives, good things come with a price. So here I am after a year or so after conceiving an idea about a short easy to read and understand cook/food book, and though it's easy to read and well put together, all kinds of crap started to present itself. One is other people sticking in their fucking two cents, it's like shut up, I know what the fuck I'm doing, go write your own book!
No seriously, putting a book together without any funds or sponsors, or a publisher is hard, so what am going to do? Self publish this mother fucker! Market it? Do it locally, utilizing social networking, and who knows what else, but one thing is certain, this shit is not by any means an easy thing.
Friends tell me, "Hey did you see Giada's book? Do it like hers." Or, "Did you see Bobby Flay's book, lay it out like his?" I just want to tell them "Leave me the fuck alone!" So, this is the deal, it's gonna come out slowly, not in huge numbers but more on a local level, you like it, I'll get you a copy like that. But, no doubt, it's a funny thing when you tell people you're writing a book, especially a cook/food book. You see, everyone who eats is a fucking expert on food, and when these mother fuckers watch the Food Network, man they're experts to the fucking max! Sorry for the cuss words folks but I'm fucking tired, this shit was supposed to have been done in April of this year.
Well like I said, things happened this year to quite a few of my chef friends and foodies and relatives. My friend Shirley Fong Torres died in San Francisco, she was a Chinese Chef and foodie that has a recipe in my book. Chef Mark Ellman is in my book, he just opened up his brand new restaurant called Honu. My brother Harold died, he was the real chef in our blood line, compared to me, I'm just an actor that plays a chef ha ha. But stuff happend this year that was an awakening. Our neighbor's house burned to the ground in March, leaving some of them without a home, it was sad. And more friends passed on this year. Man it's not over yet, it's not even Halloween.
But back to the book, it's almost done. I just had to look at it again before I get the printers in on it, and get my copyright and ISBN bar code, it's all good, slowly happening, but if anyone of you is entertaining this thought of writing a book to be printed and legally yours, you better stop and do some thinking because I'm telling you this shit is hair pulling, teeth biting, lots of hassles, lots of coffee, lots of shit shit shit you know? But in the end it'll be worth it, it'll be something I can honestly call mine, my own baby. Will it sell a gazillion copies? Of course it can. But honestly, it was just something we men of the world need to do, to gather our thoughts and present it to the world for whatever it is. Just had to do it before I died.
Papers line the cafe table at Starbucks in Barnes and Noble, (is this alright?) looking and tweaking what will or what won't work.
Building the Hoover Dam cost lives, it was a dangerous job, or building the Golden Gate Bridge, cost lots of money, time and also lives, good things come with a price. So here I am after a year or so after conceiving an idea about a short easy to read and understand cook/food book, and though it's easy to read and well put together, all kinds of crap started to present itself. One is other people sticking in their fucking two cents, it's like shut up, I know what the fuck I'm doing, go write your own book!
No seriously, putting a book together without any funds or sponsors, or a publisher is hard, so what am going to do? Self publish this mother fucker! Market it? Do it locally, utilizing social networking, and who knows what else, but one thing is certain, this shit is not by any means an easy thing.
Friends tell me, "Hey did you see Giada's book? Do it like hers." Or, "Did you see Bobby Flay's book, lay it out like his?" I just want to tell them "Leave me the fuck alone!" So, this is the deal, it's gonna come out slowly, not in huge numbers but more on a local level, you like it, I'll get you a copy like that. But, no doubt, it's a funny thing when you tell people you're writing a book, especially a cook/food book. You see, everyone who eats is a fucking expert on food, and when these mother fuckers watch the Food Network, man they're experts to the fucking max! Sorry for the cuss words folks but I'm fucking tired, this shit was supposed to have been done in April of this year.
Well like I said, things happened this year to quite a few of my chef friends and foodies and relatives. My friend Shirley Fong Torres died in San Francisco, she was a Chinese Chef and foodie that has a recipe in my book. Chef Mark Ellman is in my book, he just opened up his brand new restaurant called Honu. My brother Harold died, he was the real chef in our blood line, compared to me, I'm just an actor that plays a chef ha ha. But stuff happend this year that was an awakening. Our neighbor's house burned to the ground in March, leaving some of them without a home, it was sad. And more friends passed on this year. Man it's not over yet, it's not even Halloween.
But back to the book, it's almost done. I just had to look at it again before I get the printers in on it, and get my copyright and ISBN bar code, it's all good, slowly happening, but if anyone of you is entertaining this thought of writing a book to be printed and legally yours, you better stop and do some thinking because I'm telling you this shit is hair pulling, teeth biting, lots of hassles, lots of coffee, lots of shit shit shit you know? But in the end it'll be worth it, it'll be something I can honestly call mine, my own baby. Will it sell a gazillion copies? Of course it can. But honestly, it was just something we men of the world need to do, to gather our thoughts and present it to the world for whatever it is. Just had to do it before I died.
Papers line the cafe table at Starbucks in Barnes and Noble, (is this alright?) looking and tweaking what will or what won't work.
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