A while back, I posted something about The River In Winter on a message board entitled “Shameless Self-Promotion.” I’d have to say I wasn’t so very shameless; I posted a link to the book’s Amazon page and a couple of links to my site.

Since then, I’ve been getting emails from other writers who’re shamelessly self-promoting their projects. Others are shamelessly shameless. Phrases such as “non-stop thrills” are employed. Iron-clad promises that readers will become “addicted.” Words are described as “jumping off the page.”

Actually, I envy some of these people their willingness to brag. When I was a kid, we used to say “when god was handing out brains, you thought he said trains and told him you’d catch the next one.” One might say that when god was handing out brag, I thought he said slag and told him that didn’t sound very nice.

In any case, I’m thinking I should probably try to get better at this. Here’s my first attempt:

The River in Winter is a book for the ages. With each syllable of each word of each sentence of each paragraph of each chapter, you will fall more deeply in love with its characters, until you find yourself wanting to move with them to California’s redwood forests to create a free-love hippie commune, where Spike will no doubt secure the medical marijuana license.

Huh? Huh? Whattaya think? Love, redwoods, pot. A little something for everyone, yes?