I write satire.  At least I think I do.  My characters are moochers and incompetent boobs, or delusional narcissists.  They are meant to make fun of our society (such as how real life careers compare to the televised ideals) or segments of our society (such as self-proclaimed gurus and their followers).  I did not set out to write a detective novel or a story about spirituality.  I was really kind of mocking those things.  I’m not quite sure how this isn’t apparent to my readers, but hey, if they all see it one way and only I see it another … well?

Even more amazing, is that while completely missing the intended point of my stories, my readers seem to genuinely enjoy them and I have several five star reviews.  Unfortunately those reviews reveal that the works were not understood as I intended them, despite what I felt were quite deranged portrayals of detectives or spiritual gurus.  I’m not sure how to take this.  I’m glad people enjoyed the books.

Nobody has mentioned the humor in my stories, which was actually the main thrust of both books.  This makes me wonder if my stories are inside jokes that only I am getting.  I once heard that Stephen King found his horror stories to be very amusing.  Everyone else finds them to be scary, while he is snickering.  He did write a story about a Pet Cemetery – how could that not be a joke, right?  Am I just like Stephen King, minus the countless published books, movie deals, money and fame?  See, that last sentence was supposed to be amusing, but I bet everyone thinks that I compare myself to Stephen King.  How arrogant!

I really do write my stories just to amuse myself.  They make me laugh.  I have never laid down a single serious line in any of my books.  Sure, I am not writing obvious jokes.  There isn’t a lot of slapstick humor: it is more subtle.  Maybe it’s too subtle.  Maybe it only exists in my mind!

Yes, that whooshing might not be the sound of my satire going over the heads of my readers – it might be the sound of me completely missing what I am actually communicating.  The true satire might be the satirist giggling at his own subtle wit that is completely non-existent to the rest of the world.  I must admit that I am somewhat concerned.

What the hell, I’ll just go with it.  I am amusing myself and my readers are happy.  Nobody ever said we have to be on the same page.