The Exodus — K. Austin

Hopefully by now you've read plenty of happy, guy-gets-the-girl, fairytale ending stories that have warmed your soul, touched you deeply, and left you a better person for having learned such valuable lessons depicted in tasteful ways. Hopefully you have met dashing men with perfect hair, broad shoulders, effeminate sensitivity, and a comprehensive sense of humor, and have grown miserably tired of it. Hopefully you are here, on this website, because you are looking for something a little more real life than that.I am Ved Ludo, and I am nothing if not a hauntingly honest storyteller. I read in a how to write novels novel (Right? Who coined that little operation?) that I am supposed to make certain promises to you, the reader. These promises are the underlying trust between us (me as the famous and wealthy author, and you as the financial means for me to support my many habits), and to break these promises is to leave you unfulfilled, unsatisfied, and demanding your money back. (Money that I've undoubtedly already spent.) So, in order to keep you from forming posses and returning to the beaches of North Carolina for sometimes romantic, sometimes tragic, novels I hereby make you the following three promises:1. I promise to be offensive, graphic, and extremely vulgar at times. (I sometimes get emotional when I write.)2. I promise you an appropriate amount of sex, death, drugs, and fights to rival any of my potential competitors for your attention (and, more importantly, money).3. I promise that I will be more honest with you than any author you have read in the last six months. (I was going to say five years, but my publisher was firmly against that sort of speculation.)In this, my first work of breathtaking tragedy and realism, you will meet my former self, Shell Ludo. He will endure painful losses, injuries, and miraculous transformations.Whether you love me or hate me, I am Ved Ludo, and you will remember me. (Rule #87 in the how-to: be assertive.)