IF YOU DO NOT GET THIS BOOK NOW

T HERE WILL BE NO NEXT TIME 

“Why should I anyway? Who is Stanley I. Brookoff? There’s so much stuff out there.”

So much STUFF. Most of it pop art.

Pop art is virtually the only publishable art form in writing today. If Shakespeare were alive today and no one had ever heard of Shakespeare, he would be unable to get the story of Hamlet published as a novel. Let’s take Melville the novelist as a more appropriate example. The literary agent of today would reject Moby Dick after reading the first paragraph.

Every now and then I hear a commentator on radio or television remark: “Where are the great literary works of today?” They’re out there, all right. But they are virtually impossible to get published by a mainstream publisher because, a) literary agents are either functional illiterates incapable of reading above a seventh grade level and reject anything above that level as lousy writing–a blogger once wrote that a literary agent wouldn’t know a gem if it fell onto his or her lap; b) the literary agent may not think quality writing above a seventh grade reading level is marketable; and, c) the publisher him- or herself would not even consider looking at an unsolicited manuscript of a novel. So quality writers are forced to self publish. A book reviewer would never consider touching a self-published work, never mind reading and reviewing one. And the literary-writer is very often a terrible marketer. The literary-writer’s essential talent is writing in-depth literature, not selling. So the work remains unknown, and commentators continue to ask: “Where are the great literary works of today?”

The novel HYPERSPACE is a work of literary writing of the first order.

As do many others, I like James Bond. And Edgar Rice Burroughs of Tarzan fame is one of my favorite fiction writers. Burroughs’ writing has even influenced my own prose. But HYPERSPACE is no easy read like Bond and Tarzan. It is much more closely related to Jean Paul Sartre’s Nausea, both in style and in theme. It’s great to read Tarzan and Bond, and other fast moving works of action and adventure. But when you seek a work of depth, a work of literary art that delves into the souls of characters, you require Moby Dick, Nausea, The Catcher in the Rye, or HYPERSPACE.

I know the experience. You are on a book’s site. It looks interesting. Even good. Even more than worthwhile. Even a must have. “Ah, not now,” you tell yourself. “Next time,” you think to yourself, or whisper under your breath. But not far beneath that thought you know there will be no next time. You do not feel impelled to return to the HYPERSPACE blog site . . . and you never will. You are too busy, as are we all. For that reason, if you want to experience a modern work of literary art, get this book now! There will be no next time. Links to Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and AuthorHouse are here, in the right-hand column.

I wish to counsel you. When you read HYPERSPACE, to squeeze the goodness from this work of literature, you must read it to the end. Do not allow yourself to be dissuaded from completing HYPERSPACE by the modicum of sexually explicit passages which it contains. These passages are essential to the novel for realism’s sake (I don’t write stories, I write LIFE) and appear sporadically in the book’s first half . . . the novel deals with psychosis. Do not allow yourself to be dissuaded from completing HYPERSPACE by the novel’s intricate and detailed prose: real life is intricate and detailed.

If you stay with HYPERSPACE to the end, you will gain access to some of the most beautiful prose and delectable poetry in the history of fiction writing. And the novel’s climax will shoot an electrical bolt into you that will shock out your breath.