I'm Nobody, from Nowhere, doing Nothing.
Nice to meet you.
Well, sort of nice. If we were meeting face to face, I'd probably hate you.
Wait! Let me be clear: you’d hate me too. Reading emotions isn’t my specialty, but I know I am not meant to be liked. Having said that, I don't blame you if you don't want to read this. The cover states my low expectations for my great work about my life which doesn't exist.
If you picked this because of the title, I’ll laugh at you for falling for reverse psychology. Ha!
If you’re reading this due to curiosity, it doesn’t mean you’re a cat. People are often inquisitive about me.
You could hate reading. Your mom forced you to put this book in your hands and scan your eyes across the words. Tough.
Maybe reading is your go-to thing, but I’ve ruined it for you in nine paragraphs. Sorry, not sorry.
Are you one of those book publisher people? I’m not sure how this got in your hands. Tuck this manuscript away and move on. I give you permission.
Whatever your purpose, understand one thing: I have zero writing qualifications. Reading this will be a waste of time. You picked up the unbrilliant work of a kid writing about his non-life.
I’m not saying I’m not a living, breathing human being. I’m pretty sure I am one. I’m just physically, mentally, and emotionally short of the qualifications to have a life of my own. If I did have a life, why are people always telling me to get one?
Where were we?
Right, my non-life.
If you think this is about some lucky Youtuber's rise to fame, think again. I'm a nobody, from nowhere, doing nothing, and it will be this way—beginning to end—forever and ever—amen.
This isn't a love story either. It's not a "finding yourself" Hollywoodized book. Or a combination of those things.
Unlike other writers, I don't need to follow the rules, because I don't have goals or expectations. I can go into present tense and say I write instead of wrote. I can use the same word over and over and over and over and over and… Can use sentence fragments.
I can misspell werds. I can not do grammar so good.
You're still reading this, so I guess we have a lot in common. Even if you are a someone, from somewhere, doing something, it's not most people's business to read about a no one.
I urge you to spend the precious minutes of your short lifespan doing something else.
Go outside. Catch up on your soap operas. Eat junk food until the cabinets are empty. Splatter the wall and watch paint dry—always a good time! Sit for hours contemplating the most complicated concepts of the universe.
Don't read about nothing. Find a better book.
Read about a hero who saves everybody. Read about an idiot who kills everyone. Anything would be better than reading about me. I promise I'm not some form of artificial intelligence, but…I'm close enough. I lack interesting qualities which would make people engage in conversations with me. Popular? Very funny. Hot? Only during gym class, and I’m homeschooled. Smart? One plus one equals three. Weird?
That would be a big step up.
Don't get me wrong, I love the life I'm not living. But just because I want to live and write about nothing doesn't mean you need to read a book about it.
Okay, it’s been settled.
Now that I've explained everything you don’t need to know, made you cry, maybe made you reconsider your life choices, I've been told the best place to start anything is with an introduction.
I'm Nobody, but the name my parents insisted on giving me is Benjamin Daniel Wood. So, according to them and my therapists: I'm Benjamin Wood, seventeen years old, from Delcoph, New York, doing everything wrong.
Nice to meet you.
~Selection from contemporary novel Not a Bestseller
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