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The upper echelon of the publishing house told me to write a catchy and snappy introduction to this story, but I really didn’t know what that meant, so I’m writing this. This is the introduction, one that I have signed a contract to write for legal reasons, because with everyone talking about my notebooks and the sensation they all created, let me just set the record straight. First of all, let me just say that I was not born from some stuffy, uppity, high class social stock and I did not attend some worldly renowned, prestigious school where they breed poets and novelists like cattle. No, far from it. In fact I was born in Detroit on the Southside and with all the comparisons to other writers, it should also be noted that I am not some new age Ernest Hemingway, William Faulkner, William Styron or even some second coming of William Wordsworth for that matter, and yes that is his actual pen name. I am Charlie Chance and despite what the newspapers have written, which let me just add that newspapers are the greatest fiction known to man, but I simply write better than I talk. That is the secret formula here and in all honesty this is more of a malady than it is a literary talent. Dare I add to all this that I am what a friend once called “an outgoing introvert,” whatever the hell that means, I mean is that like maybe a ball that doesn’t bounce or a song with no music? Your guess is as good as mine, but I could see his point even if, to be fair in the general standards and practices of the aforementioned label, my friend is far from college prep material. He actually ate Elmer’s glue well into the second grade, in fact, I think he developed a habit.

Now to set it straight, some have said I am like the Nirvana of notebook writers, through I never knew notebook writers was a category. That is just what one bloated newspaper writer said in one bloated newspaper article, so take it for what that’s worth. Let’s just say I write and write a lot, because I am a hired geek by many little magazines and aside from this book, it’s what you’d call a job, something someone does for money to survive in this dog eat dog world. It should also be noted for personal reasons yet again that I published this for that very reason and it isn’t to try and be some high and pseudo intellectual writer that is full of them self, because this is all for the money to be honest. I was broke. Plain and simple, as most young men are and with publishing and releasing this, it is actually more money than I’d ever seen before, but then again before this check, I worked the fryer at The Chicken Shack in downtown Detroit.

I’ve never been greedy, but surviving has nothing to do with selling out and if only the people who buy products and then ridicule entertainers for “selling out” whatever the hell that means, I mean isn’t that why everyone creates something, to sell it? So to freaks and dorks of the world, God bless you and forgive me if I took the money and ran. I did just that and it was good money, let me tell you and an even better decision. And you’d have done the same, trust me.

Ok now to the legal part of it, the part I had to sign my life away to disclose. Here are the facts…According to the esteemed “marketing research team,” of the publisher on the cover, 83% of people who buy books usually only read the first few lines and if those first lines don’t grab their attention, then they put the book down and move on to the next one. I don’t know if this is true or not nor do I really care. What I do know is that just after publication, this book was rated by one thousand randomly hand-picked readers, who were hired by the publisher for purposes of researching the best demographics for global sales. The bottom line of anything usually involving the term “research” can always be boiled down to one or two concepts…greed and money, or at least that was what I had come to know as I gallivant through this endless time capsule and the various cities in which I’ve seen. If you look around there’s a good chance you could spot a crime, but that’s neither here nor there. Anyways something very strange occurred on the way back from the printing press. This is not something I am proud of, but quickly upon completion of this book nearly a third of the readers got promoted at work, probably because this could be a cautionary tale. I’m not sure of the why here, because many of the others could careless, I mean they have their own lives to deal with and so on, which would explain the others getting all hero worship on me. The Ying and Yang of anything is sometimes mind boggling. Some of this is unexplainable and likely has little to do with this book mind you, but the weirder thing was…a slightly lesser percent, some 25% of these readers simply quit their jobs and disappeared altogether, never to be heard from again. You may have read about these stories in the newspapers or online, which is another reason for the mystique of what follows. A slightly lesser percentage of the 1,000 readers, some 200 of varying demographics ranging from teenagers to retired librarians took on a second job or furthered their education. Some have said this story has weird magical affect or powers, but that’s all neither here nor there, because sometimes people create their own rumors and stories. Again, the publishing house takes no responsibility for said actions. So, in careful aplomb to quell some of these so called “possible side effects” for those who read this book, for legal reasons anyone associated with this book shall not be liable in any way for anything going complete awry upon completing it. This is a legal warning, according to the lawyers that told me to write this into the introduction.

How things happened for me, no one could conjure up and it’s irrational because I was headed for a life of mediocrity like most everyone else as far as a career, but I was rich in friends and family, so I don’t see the point of that, then again when we are young, a career is all that matters. This analogy is reminiscent of the old saying, “the more you do something the better you get at it…” Well, for many years all I did was write in notebooks, because most people seemed to be on different levels, like frequencies tuned into being more well liked or more popular. They cared about how they were perceived whereas I was more worried about keeping to myself and not getting bothered by them. I didn’t want to get caught up in the issues of others, which for a few I had done and was guilty by association at one time or another. Again, this is not the norm I get that and in many ways I know I am not either, but like a baseball player, who fields ground balls all day or a teacher who endless grade hacky essays, I got better at these notebook entries or pages or diaries or whatever one might be privy to coin them. I guess in summary, what all those people read, they liked. I really didn’t think my ramblings would amount to anything, but they did.

Charlie Chance.