HARDLY STRANGERS

A novel by A.C. Robinson

Apologies in advance, but it was only a matter of time before this Substack sold out and started pushing products.

Friends, I’ve written a romance novel. It’s available for pre-order now and due for release on November 12th, 2024, Anno Domini, the year of our Lord.

What’s the novel about, you ask? It’s a composite sketch of the recesses of my tender heart—an all-in-one night tet-a-tet that evolves into a romantic rebirthing session and simmers into that one sex scene from Reality Bites. I hope this clarifies things.

The impending release of my book has created what experts call “Premier-Novel-Induced Mortal Panic Disorder.” Symptoms include self-doubt, pre-judgment anxiety, and intermittent catatonia (though the last-mentioned may be a pre-existing condition). I have been given a prescription to “relax” and “celebrate my accomplishment,” but I have yet to fill it as I’ve been very busy.

It’s my nature to make jokes at my own expense, thereby lessening the magnitude of my work’s importance and the depth of any potential wounding, but I will try to restrain myself. The process of writing this book has changed my life. It took a lot out of me, some of which needed to be exorcised one way or another—either by pen or by priest—but I’m deeply grateful for every moment of it. Taking on this project has demystified the process of writing a book entirely, effectively showing me a path forward and a window into the room I now know holds my purpose. I’m also grateful that it’s given some early legitimacy to my career as a writer (who knew that the words “Simon & Schuster” would hold such power—I incant them now like a glamouring spell before and after I give people the news: “Simon & Schuster. I’ve written a book. Simon & Schuster.”)

Ultimately, I will not implore anyone to read it (in fact, I have forbidden several people). This is not a reverse psychology tactic or a choice made on the basis of ego—I make no bones about begging. Instead, as this novel is something softer and more sensitive than what I usually share, I hope my readers will pick it up because of a genuine sense of intrigue rather than undying loyalty to me as a friend (either in real life or via parasocial delusion). While the latter is deeply appreciated, this unwavering fealty will be better suited when I inevitably forge my own religion and command my flock of devotees to follow me into the desert. For now, give it a go—but only if that’s what floats your boat.

Pre-order Hardly Strangers by A.C. Robinson now (if not, no worries).