I seem to recall saying something recently about having developed quite a tolerance for a new writer’s missteps if I think he has potential. There were a few lines about being a glutton for punishment too…… so, in that vein, let me talk a little about Kindle Unlimited.

I don’t trust any man who doesn’t read. Call it a prejudice, a bias, or whatever but when I hear people tell me they get all their information from YouTube or audio-books I’m immediately on guard. Writing is thinking, whereas speech is mostly rhetorical. You want to know the kind of people who ignore books and love speeches….. Jordan Peterson fans. Just look at the video.

Okay, I couldn’t find a video I liked of Peterson. As Vox Day very capably demonstrated in his dozen Darkstream takedowns of The Crazy Christ, Jordan Peterson fans are completely retarded. They literally don’t even read the man’s books. So Vox read both 12 Rules For Life and Maps Of Meaning and immediately figured out that Peterson is a charlatan, not at all well-read outside of his clinical psychology specialism [1], obscurantist, and mentally ill. As he’d say this on his live Darkstream, JBP’s idiot followers would come on and prove they hadn’t read him.

Why? Because JBP fans are the lowest of losers and can’t read. They soak up his tosh because they lack the clarity of mind and mental focus that is built by spending years of your life reading books. They are only half-evolved.

JBP is an extreme case. You get the same retarded behaviour with Joe Rogan fans, Richard Spencer fans, and of course our little world of pick-up has the same retards following YouTube game guys who spout obvious nonsense and the retards lap it up. RSD are the worst for that. It’s no coincidence that none of these guys are writing books [2]. If you want to make the most of your mind, you must read.

However, you probably shouldn’t start with Kindle Unlimited. It is notorious for the tripe on there. I’m lucky, however, because two genres I really enjoy are well-served. First, there is the WW2 memoir [3] popularised by Sven Hassel. Ten years ago I finished the fourteenth (and last) of his books and I was distraught – there were no more new books to read. So I went looking into his contemporaneous knock-off writers like Heinz Konsalik, Leo Kessler, and Wolf Kruger. Now that I’m on Kindle Unlimited I see that there’s a burgeoning sub-genre in WW2 Nazi memoirs of questionable historical integrity [4]

The other genre is hardboiled detective fiction. In this case, the quality is far higher because wily publishers are re-releasing entire series of previously-published, and often popular, paperbacks from the golden age of that genre. Thus all the Perry Masons are on there, as are the thirty Ed Noon books [5]. So now I have access to almost unlimited free books in my two favourite genres. Score.

Sadly, most of the modern stuff of KU is absolute tosh. Just have a look at the dross in the Fantasy and Sci-Fi sections on KU. If any readers know new writers doing genuinely good Conan-style fantasy or space marine / bad-ass Sci-Fi then let me know. And, God forbid, if you were to peruse into the Romance sub-sections…… holy shit!….

One place KU has sadly disappointed me is with John Creasey, my favourite high-speed hack writer of detective fiction. I love his Inspector West and his The Toff tales. Those were written from about ten years into his career, when he’d already learned far more about his craft than any ponderous fiction writer will ever learn. None of those are on Kindle Unlimited [6]. Instead, the only Creasey on KU are his Department Z spy novels. All thirty of that long-running series are on there but…… two problems.

First, it was his very first series, written from his mid-twenties onward. That makes the books immature and badly written compared to his Inspector West stuff. If I want to read Creasey for free, I don’t get the best Creasey.

Second, I find it impossible to join a series mid-way through. I’m starting at the beginning or not at all. “But Nick, why not just start at book #20 when he’s a better writer?” No, that’s not how my mind works. I’d find it physically painful to know there were nineteen other books laying out the groundwork that I’d so carelessly skipped over. I’m thorough and I like to beat around the bushes before I assault the citadel.

So despite reading the hopelessly bad The Death Miser as #1 in the Department Z series I felt strangely compelled to go through the second, Redhead. Creasey had me entranced like a snake looking at a mongoose. Fortunately for me, the second book is a big step up from the first. It doesn’t get boring until halfway through. So, what’s it about?

It’s the 1930s and two cousins, both amateur boxing champs in England, are visiting NYC. Local newspapermen, #FakeNews, print a made-up interview with them where they appear to challenge the gangsters. Said gangsters waylay them on a country road and shoot up their car with tommyguns, but fail to injure them. The lads flee the US by boarding a steamer but, a little amped up at having to run, they pick a beef with a big strong youth on board. He’s a ginger. There’s a hot girl on board too, who gets herself into trouble.

What follows is lots of carefree derring-do as an American gang under the leadership of the shadowy ‘Redhead’ try to take control of a cache of loot hidden in the cellar of a country house defended by an English gang run by ‘Zoeman’. It’s all nonsense. The girl is kidnapped a couple of times and all the young men risk life and limb to rescue her even though she isn’t fucking any of them. It had make-it-up-as-you-go-along plotting and no-one ever does the sensible thing at any time. Many of the leaps in logic made by the main characters make no sense at all, betraying then-young Creasey’s immaturity.

For all that, even in this early book it was clear Creasey was a natural writer. For all its many flaws, it was readable. Most interesting to me was the originality of the tone. Remember this was written in 1933 so it was before James Bond. The set-up is very close to Ian Fleming‘s work, having a London-based ‘M’ character, a line of secret agents with numbered code-names, and then detective-style stories laced with murderous action as the agent tries to infiltrate, identify, and then take down a criminal mastermind at the head of an international organisation.

It’s all fantastical and doesn’t aim at the realism of a Mr Moto or Matt Helm story. The gangsters in Department Z stories all shoot with the accuracy of Empire stormtroopers.

The set-up has me intrigued as I know Creasy becomes good. The question is how quickly does he become good? Kindle Unlimited has set up an intriguing race against time in which Creasy’s free Department Z books need to improve quicker than my patience with them wears out.

Who will win? It’s like taking a laxative and an Immodium at the same time.

If you’re like to read a prolific author who started out a bit shit and soon became fantastically good, you might like to check out my product page here. It’s the best daygame material money can buy and way better than the tripe on YouTube [7]

[1] That wouldn’t be a bad thing, except his books are basically philosophy and mythology so you have to be well-read outside of his speciality, otherwise you’re faking it. Peterson hasn’t read the Western canon.
[2] Did any of them write a book? I can’t recall one but perhaps readers can fill me in. They certainly are predominantly working through the medium of video and speech.
[3] Or pretend-memoir, really. I don’t trust these things.
[4] It’s always Nazi tank-men. Never infantry or Luftwaffe, and never Japs, Brits, Yanks, or Reds.
[5] More on them in a later review.
[6] The bastards!
[7] Except Street Attraction. Alright there, Eddie? 🙂

I’m a pretty tolerant forgiving sort of person. Just the other day, Jimmy said to me, “Nick, you’re a pretty tolerant forgiving sort of person” [1]. There are few things in the world I’m as tolerant of as dopey adventure writers when I’m in the midst of a reading binge. It’s all about the abundance mentality and its ugly sister, the scarcity mentality.

Any good player knows about that. When you’re not getting laid, you can get thirsty for skirt. Sex is an appetite like any other, but unlike hunger or sleep it also carries a huge ego component that can make you crankier than an alley cat. Food doesn’t reject you when you’re jonesing for it, but women do. Thus falling into the ‘scarcity mentality’ – that you need a woman and any given lead is precious due to its scarcity – can quickly become a vicious circle of neediness begetting neediness.

Abundance mentality is the opposite, that once you’ve got lots of women in your life (or, more crucially, the optimism that the next set of women are just around the corner) you begin to behave differently. You can #WalkAway from neediness and dependence on skirt. The whole of your game tightens up, using roll-offs, terse messages, silences, and indifference like the four horsemen on the gaming apocalypse.

Game is Life and Life is Game.

I find the same abundance/scarcity operates in respects to my free time. I sympathise with all you office-bound losers who are woken by alarms while it’s still dark outside, shuttle in to your worthless jobs on a train, then sit in a cubicle all day. When you finally clock out at 6pm you’ve got a tiny window of free time to get all your shit done. Frankly, I’m surprised you don’t just top yourselves. You have a scarcity mindset of for time. You need to prioritise. [2] Believe me, I’ve been there and I sympathise [3].

Something has to give. When I was in that situation I became very choosy over what I’d read. I might only read one book a month so if I’d read something as comically shit as The Satan Sleuth: Fallen Angel I’d have thought to myself, fucking hell I’m not wasting my time on Michael Avallone any more. It’s already a tough sell to read trashy paperbacks about The Punisher of satanists, so a single bad experience would turn me off.

I am, however, on a year-long reading binge. I have fucking tonnes of free time. Here’s my typical day:

• Wake up at 10am, hit snooze three times, get up at 10:30 and out of the apartment a half hour later.
• Sit in a big comfy wing-back chair in a cafe with my Kindle, sipping coffee and reading. Usually I’m fasting so I skip breakfast.
• Hit the gym around 1pm, shower, then back out for lunch around 3pm. Usually my Kindle is with me and I’m reading again. That’ll take me until 5pm when I’ll go for an hour’s walk.

Evenings tend to be varied, depending who is in town, and whether I want to keep cracking on with the book, or writing a book of my own, or hurtling through the latest video game to take my fancy [4]. The point, however, is I have almost unlimited free time. I can read four hours a day without even beginning to prioritise. It’s made me a glutton for punishment regarding books.

I have such an abundance mentality regarding time – and thus reading – that I’ll try almost any type of book. I want to sweep up any novel that interests me even if I know it’s a bit shit. That’s why I kept plugging on with Michael Avallone. I thought to myself, who the hell would write a trilogy of trash like The Satan Sleuth? After ten minutes of google, I had my answer: he’s the American John Creasy and described himself as ‘the fastest pen in the West’. Legend has it he wrote one novel in only a day and a half!

I’m glad I gave Avallone a second chance because he’s really grown on me. The second book The Satan Sleuth: The Werewolf Walks Tonight was decent. This third one Devil, Devil is also…. okay. I’ll tell you what I like about it.

You know how I have an abundance mentality for reading? Michael Avallone has it for writing. He was knocking out a book every week or two so he’d get a concept, run with it, and then move on to the next one. He clearly took pleasure in experimenting with genres and high concepts knowing full well if he made a mistake, he could just submit the manuscript and move on to the next challenge. Reading him is roughly analogous to talking to a man abundant in girls (or money, or fame, etc). He just doesn’t give a fuck. It blows through the prose like a refreshing sea breeze, a sense that he’s going to write whatever he wants and never second guess himself. His books hurtle forwards.

None of that ‘cross out a sentence and rewrite it until it’s perfect’ that dickheads like Dostoevsky or Shakespeare would do. Avallone gets shit done.

The story here is relevant to anyone who has followed #PizzaGate and the #SpiritCooking black masses and satanic rituals in NYC that seem to involve an awful lot of Left-wing celebrities and politicians. There’s a witch [5] living above Central Park who has cherry-picked a small group of satanists for her rituals, which include brutally murdering and decapitating young women. Cops think it’s a spree killer and are clueless (literally). So the Satan Sleuth comes in and quickly finds out the witch’s dayjob is at a high end fashion boutique. He attempts to infiltrate but things quickly go to shit.

It’s schlock. Don’t get me wrong: when I say I enjoyed it, I’m not pretending it’s at the level of classics like The Three Musketeers or A Deplorable Cad.

What don’t I like about it? Rarely have I seen a book so thin in content. There are very few scenes, no sub-plots, and it moves in a predictable straight line. Even for a slim book, Avallone is noticeably padding it out with superfluous paragraphs and descriptions. It would’ve worked better at half the length. I get the feeling he realised half-way through that he’d never write another Satan Sleuth book so he began phoning it in. Overall, a fun quick read with a very silly story.

Speaking of silly stories, why not check out my memoir series or even treat yourself to a big chunky packed-with-value textbook on how to pick up girls (though not how to decapitate them and leave the body parts in dusty cellars). See my product page here.

[1] I may have made that up, as an excuse to begin this review on a particular topic.
[2] So keeping up to date on rambling reviews of low-quality novels probably isn’t high on the list.
[3] Not really, but I like to at least pretend.
[4] Right now, that’s Valkyria Chronciles. Awesome.
[5] Had it been written now rather than in 1973, I’m sure she’d have looked like Marina Abramovich

Qu.  How do I know a girl is serious or just leading things on?

Even the tiny streets leading off Knez Mihailova were bustling. The sun hung overhead slowing the pace of the day as shoppers sloped from door to door and tourists sauntered slowly, doing nothing in particular, taking in the atmosphere of the beautiful old city. In a corner cafe under the shade of a striped red and white awning Krauser sipped at a lukewarm coffee, waffling on about something of seemingly great importance, as I nodded occasionally, imitating a listening person and remembering suddenly why I visit him so seldom. The street that day accommodated several daygamers, I had noticed. I was thinking back trying to remember the first time I’d ever been to Belgrade, with Nick actually. Was it really 7 years ago? There were no daygamers back then, just me and Nick. It seemed a lot busier in general these days than it used to be.

‘Does that sound realistic?’, he suddenly asked, snapping me back to reality.

‘What? Oh yeah! Yeah’. I paused looking for a safe response. ‘You’re definitely good at that’, I chose confidently. It was one of my safest go to phrases whenever he almost caught me not listening. He smiled smugly across a desperate, craggy face, ‘I thought so’, he beamed as he emphatically planted down his coffee, spilling waves over the sides of his cup, and smiling as he eased back in his seat. ‘Yes. My calibration is much sharper than the average person’s. Much sharper. Good calibration is better than a million dollars in the bank. I know people who work in banks. And they have a million dollars. And they would love to have calibration like mine. I can tell in seconds if she’s just kicking the tyres’.

I nodded slowly to give the impression of being in deep agreement, ‘a million’ I agreed, not remembering what the figure referred to. I then gazed away as his voice carried on, like a unstoppable relentless grater, gnawing away at the peaceful fabric of the afternoon. ‘Kicking the tyres’, I mused, as I drifted off again. ‘To kick the tyres’ is a sales reference, often used in game. Game is sales after all to some degree. No doubt we’ve all reflected a few times on various examples of how game is similar to a sales job. I recalled how that scene from Glengarry Glen Ross always used to get mentioned on pickup forums back in the day. Does it still? I remember once how an old wing of mine, a great guy we called ‘Blue’, how he re-wrote that scene into a short sketch from a pickup point of view. He did a really expert job, changing all the characters to under-performing pickup artists and the dialogue to pick-up situations with the leader of the crew bemoaning their collective laziness and low standards. We talked about getting a camera and having a go at filming the scene. It probably wouldn’t have been that hard to do and if we had it would have been a great memento to look back on.

But game is close to sales and skirt do kick the tyres, like an indifferent customer passing the time on a forecourt. Pleasing themselves by just seeing what is out there, despite at times having little to no genuine interest in actually buying. We all ‘kick the tyres’, I reflected. Have you ever had the feeling your boss is not paying you what you’re worth? So what you do is you go on some job sites and look at some postings, you may even talk to a few recruiters. You talk to the recruiter and find out that your boss is paying you within a few grand of the market rate, so now, secure in the knowledge that you’re not getting ripped off, you go back to work with a happy feeling in your stomach and no nagging doubts. You can put your feet up and coast for another 6 months. Or maybe you don’t have a boss right now, maybe you’re taking time out and wondering what the market is like in case you want to get back to work any time soon. Maybe a recruiter calls you out of the blue and you talk to them. It doesn’t mean you’re going to go along with it. You just want to ‘kick the tyres’ of the market and if you were the recruiter in this situation, you wouldn’t get too excited, though the door is most certainly to some degree open.

Let’s say a girl has a ‘boyfriend’, whatever that might mean. She’s fairly happy but she is not sold this is the guy for her in the long term or even short term. She thinks she has the goods to shoot a little higher, so she has to manage her hypergamous curiosity. She’s maybe not likely to actually make a move, she just wants to satisfy herself that she’s not missing out. You stopping her in the street while no one is around to report back on her behaviour is like a recruiter calling you on your lunch break. And she wants to know what her market rate is, she wants to know what’s on offer. She may even keep you around for a while to pump for information and validation. Or maybe even while she genuinely makes her purchase decision. We just don’t know.

Yet.

‘Oy… OY’, he snapped impatiently, turning to me with a knowing look, ‘you can see the lower average IQ in these countries can’t you Jimmy’, he said to me, ‘EXCUSE ME’, he bellowed. The waiter whirled round to see Krauser impatiently waving his menu in the air. He looked at me victoriously. ‘I’m gonna have the steak and potatoes’, he declared, as if I were taking the order. ‘I have it every day at the same time’. I knew this already, since we’d been at this cafe every day for the last week, at the same time and he’d always ordered steak and potatoes.

The waiter wheeled over smiling nervously, ‘steak and potatoes?’, he said looking at Nick expectantly.

‘Steak and potatoes’, I said, as I leant back in my chair. Pumping you for validation she is. She is playing a balancing game of keeping you baited enough to hang around but not give so much that she has to hand in her notice and take the risk. It’s very likely that the value you have shown so far is not clearly higher enough than what she already has, for her to make any kind of move or purchase decision. Or she just loves the validation and attention. Either way she wants to sit in the grey area of deniable ‘light flirting’ and she is in no hurry to get out of it. You’re basically getting a ‘no’, ‘this is unlikely’ or a ‘maybe’. You just have to understand this so you can deal with it.

I had a few tricks up my sleeve in my time, to get her down off that fence and into the ‘Rodeo del Jimbo’. I smiled at the images flickering across the ‘memories movie screen’ in my mind. It turned out to be opportune moment to smile as Nick had seemingly just slipped some kind of a clever joke into whatever he was saying and it really looked like I was listening. It was a freebie. Those moments are gold, ‘it’s bought me another few minutes before I have to think up another response signal to give to this idiot’, I thought.

I shifted in my seat and leant back as if to say ‘go ahead, tell me all about it’.

‘How do you filter intentions?’, I thought, secretly.

I bet by now some guys have figured out some amazing techniques. Far beyond the rudely drawn gambits of the early guys like me. I asked myself ‘what, if asked, would I contribute to the conversation’?

Increase my value/build comfort

This is the obvious one. Jimmy, while she’s still kicking tyres, you simply haven’t made your case enough, so you still have some work to do. Now’s not the time to be too worried about if she fancies me or not, now is the time to build value and comfort. How to do this is obviously a big topic for another day. I can’t really talk about it under this heading. But your job as a pick up artist, as someone with ‘game’, is to take a girl from a negative or an indifferent position, to a positive one. And you do that with attraction and comfort. Tyre kickers are fine to some extent, as they’re giving you at least a chance, time and space on the ball, to work your magic. That’s a positive. I think that’s the correct starting attitude from which to attack this subject.

And a reminder here, the Mystery Method tells us: Game is played in ‘Comfort’. Comfort is a stage of the seduction process (it often takes place on dates). Just get the fuckers onto dates and then see to what extent you really have any game. Getting a number on the street or an iDate is a great skill, but it’s only a small part of game, it’s just the initial cold call. The real salesmen are the field sales guys who can consistently build value and comfort in the field. It’s not the appointment bookers. Appointment bookers work hard to prove themselves so that they can then become field sales guys. In game you have ‘approach coaches’ vying to become coaches.

It’s worth at this point differentiating between ‘date’ and ‘text game’ situations. In terms of text game situations, I see the real problem being elsewhere. Trying to save poor in field work with good text game is like smoking 100 a day and then trying to beat the cancer with a really great alkalising diet. Since as long as I can remember I’ve had people tell me that their game is ‘really good’ but ‘Jimmy, my text game needs work’. I always know what’s coming next. I watch them in set and then see their texts and hey ho, it’s not their texts, it’s their sets. They’re not as ‘really good’ as they think they are. They build minimal attraction and get a number based on momentum. The girl seems happy (and she is, in the moment), but really she’s just had a surprising fun conversation with a stranger and she gives her number based on the energy of the moment and the promise of a source of validation, there’s nothing really supporting it much beyond that. That’s OK though, not many of us, myself included, are as good as we think we are.

‘Apart from me’, Krauser yelled at me. I sat bolt upright, startled. Almost dropping my coffee, caught between my daydream and reality and for an uncomfortable moment, my blood ran cold, he’s managed to master an actual mind reading routine, I gasped to myself.

I can’t let this lunatic loose with this kind of power.

I looked at him through narrowed eyes, I’m going to have to kill him, I resolved.

‘I was the only one NOT qualifying Jimmy, the other chodes were standing around giving her as much validation as she wanted. A proper chode crystal. I was disgusted’.

I breathed out in relief. ‘It’s a mad world!, I sympathized. Write that line down lads. Anytime some fool complains about something that exasperates them, ‘it’s a mad world’ is a beauty. Placates them immediately. Try it.

I saw his lips moving and he continued to tell his story. The sounds of the street once again muffled as, nodding and making eye contact, I sank back into my thoughts.

So I’ve got a tyre kicker on a date and I’m appropriately managing the attraction process. So what next?

Stay outside of that grey area

If she’s happy sitting in the safety of the ‘this could be a date/not quite a date‘ grey area, then you’re most decidedly not. And you want her out of it as soon as it’s appropriate. If you’ve had a crack at building attraction and getting a little rapport going, then you need to draw her into that ‘this ‘aint just friends’ vibe. The good news is, such forthrightness is an attraction builder. Staying in the grey area is an attraction destroyer. If you have done what you think is necessary, made your case to a reasonable degree, sometimes you just have to make a do or die call.

Going back to the sales comparison, I remembered being scared of a ‘no’ when I was a kid. I was 21 and wasting a lot of time as I worked several forms of sales jobs on my way up through to account management then project management. Again in sales, there’s a similar kind of scenario where the young salesperson is fearful of hearing the word ‘no’. Not being flush with choice, when the young salesman gets what looks like a good lead, he wants to keep it there. The hope and promise of a sale in the midst of his unimpressive pipeline means he’s happy to keep calling the client and putting off the point of sale, accepting the ever continuing excuses and delays of the client. ‘We’re VERY interested, this dovetails perfectly into our plans, call back after our board meeting next month’, they’ll say. The novice then enthusiastically taps the information into his CRM record and lives off the promise for the next month. That way, he believes, he gets to keep the promise and maybe something will happen and he’ll get the sale one day. He doesn’t want to push too hard and lose the little that he does have.

Then one day you just realise that getting a ‘no’ is actually very valuable and completely painless. It’s not only a big ‘so what’, it’s what the big boys actually do on purpose. You want to get your ‘no’ as soon as possible so that you’re not chasing around wasting time on people who have no genuine intention of buying. You want 10 leads and you want to filter out the obvious fake ones as soon as possible.

But here’s a bit of a difference between sales and game. In a similar way game really begins in comfort, sales really starts when you hear your first ‘no’. You try to find out what the objection is and deal with it and only if it’s insurmountable or the cost reward isn’t worth is, you move on. It’s a bit different in game as you have to react with indifference to these ‘no’ moments, but still handle them. You can’t come across like you’re selling, as that’s chasey and low value. You have to come across easy come easy go, like a mutually interested peer, and make her chase.

A refusal doesn’t necessarily mean forever either, it can just mean ‘not yet’. You’ve just got to understand you’re getting a ‘no’, so you know ‘I’m currently in turndown territory’ rather than ‘this is going great’.

In game we want to remind her this is romantic and put her in situations where she can’t box us in the friend zone. With tyre kickers, you’ve got to be willing to make your intentions clear and get the matter out in the open.

Escalating towards an obvious sexual frame is an example of how to keep things on the right track. This doesn’t have to be outrageous dirty talk, just man woman/frame references. You can turn it up or tone it down according to how turned off the target is. A pretty safe one I’d say on dates I’d say things like, ‘see if we had kids (eye contact when you say this), with my brain and your body… and also my body… (then I’d look away wistfully) and my tenacity, and my ability to learn new skills quickly… our kids would be incredible’. It’s clearly a daft joke, but it gently draws you in the romantic circle. NB: I’m not saying you tell girls you’re actually up for having kids with them. It’s a silly, unlikely future projection story that they don’t take seriously.

There are various possible reactions:

If she is laughing along at things like this, you can assume you’re making headway. It’s great escalation.

If she expresses mild discomfort or is unenthusiastic about the subject, you can tell there’s some kind of blocker, but she’s not willing to burn the set.

If she gets uppity or angry, great. You just got a pretty firm ‘no’ and an insight into the fact she might not be all that much fun to be around. You can now get to work dealing with it, or decide it’s just not worth it. But at least you’re in control and you’re not allowing her to put you in the friend zone.

You see this is the thing. If the set goes down in flames, the novice thinks he’s a failure at game. Like the salesman wanting to keep a ‘non lead’ alive for the illusion of success. It’s the seasoned swordsman who is willing to crash and burn. He gets that it’s sometimes the necessary play. Don’t do it needlessly, obviously, but don’t be the guy who’s just endlessly happy to keep the flame alive.

I suddenly became aware of an awful sucking and smacking sound, I looked in alarm up expecting to see some strange bulbous jelly like space creature engaged in some form of cleansing ritual, but I calmed down when I saw it was just Krauser eating noisily. ‘It’s all there on his blog’, he assured me, ‘the whole affair was really sordid, typical of the Democrats’, he declared.

‘Pft’, I breathed out through my teeth, ‘has this kind of thing happened before then…’

‘Well back in the Reagan era’, he began… I leant back further in my chair again.

‘What else was there’, I thought. We’ve accepted that indifference is just an expected art of game. We’ve agreed that we can handle it by managing a romantic frame.

Apart from progressive escalation, how else do we check it’s working?

Filter for investment

This is a big one and it serves two purposes in that firstly, it gauges genuine interest and secondly, it actually builds attraction. The idea behind investment as an attraction builder works in a few ways. Firstly it assumes the expectation that someone must be willing to invest in order to spend time with you, which is high value behaviour and high value behaviour build attraction. It builds a kind of faux bond, a thin kind of loyalty in the early stages in the same way a non refundable deposit does on theatre tickets. It’s makes you much more likely to show up.

Again back to sales. In the early days of running bootcamps, we did them totally free. We were so drunk on fun, we actually paid for the costs out of our pocket and never asked a penny. It went on for about 6 months. We’d average around 7 students booked for a weekend, but 2 or 3 would drop out and we’d end up with 5. That would leave us heavy handed on the trainers side but at first we didn’t care as we were in it for the fun, though after a while, we realised it was a bit disrespectful and expensive for us. Especially when at times 7 trainers might turn up ad end up supporting 3 students.

We resolved it by charging either a non refundable, or refundable, deposit, I don’t recall. But the idea was, you lose the money if you no show. The amount was minor and it didn’t even cover our travel costs, let alone our room rental. I guess it was about £20. It was indeed minor but the result was incredible. Sign ups decreased very slightly, but dropouts decreased to zero. I honestly don’t have the figures but I guess we ended up with a dependable 4 to 5 students a weekend.

This is all from memory, but I’ve seen evidence of this being the case across several industries. It’s pretty basic. It’s likely three things had occurred when we did this.

1 – We were demonstrating we were more than a bunch of jokers by having the confidence to ask money. We were still the basement boys but our time wasn’t a joke. When the resource is of value, you’re more likely to go.

2 – Once you’re £20 in you find it hard to walk away and write the money off. Even if it’s raining or your big toe hurts. When you have skin in the game, you’re more likely to go.

3 – Sign ups decreased slightly. We’d likely simply filtered out a lot of time wasters just at this step. The ones who were never going to be serious dropped out the minute there was an investment asked of them. I never had to spend time logging their names or tapping their numbers into my phone and calling them on the night to ask how far away they were. The truth is, they were never a yes. I saved myself a massive ball ache, just by demanding investment.

The insecure guy and the insecure salesman thinks ‘if I ask investment I’ll scare people away’. The underlying belief is ‘because I am not worth it’. Poison. Kick that little voice in your head right in the balls.

For most skirt it not necessary, but take a hard look if you think you’re having your waffles frozen. How invested is she? Does she turn up? On time? If she is happy to be flakey and let you down then you’re probably not that important to her. If a girl really likes a guy, everything else takes a back seat. General persistent flakiness, last minute cancellations or worse, requests to change plans, there are all signs of low investment and low seriousness. That’s not to say if she asks to change the time or the location you bawl her out. I’ve had girls who were always late, BUT, were always fully engaged in the conversation, the texts and keen to keep meeting. They were just poor at time-keeping.

No, it’s a general thing. When does she take time to meet you and is she willing to put herself out slightly for you?

It’s up to you to filter the signs of tyre kicking early and deal with them, either by demanding investment or slowly slipping it in there with minor compliance tests. But if it’s not there after a while, don’t paddle about after her like a puppy.

Tyre kickers are difficult because if you get 10 of them, 7 are going nowhere, which means you’ve got to lose 7 leads that you really, really want and it’s a hard promise to surrender. But remember, it’s good for the frame to be the chooser. Be the man who is the chooser. In order to be this guy, you’re going to have to burn a few sets in your time.

Let me ask you a question, have you ever told a hot girl ‘thanks, you’re a nice girl, but you’re not for me’ and walked away. I have many times. I have regretted it pretty much every single time, but man it’s good for the frame. You lose a lay on Monday to be a much tougher customer a year from now.

I remember one night, long, long before game, I was out with some of the football lads in a crappy night club in Wimbledon. Now this is a 100% true story, as they all are, and if I lie even slightly, let my favourite football club be plagued by a decade long losing streak. There were two hot, blonde Kiwi girls on the dancefloor in this club, mercilessly tooling every man who came near them. They stood out a mile because they were hot, blonde, confident and there were two of them. At the time I’d have said 9s. I have no idea now, but we can safely assume 8s. We were all pretty drunk and we stood around them in a circle, while one by one these girls went round the circle and danced with each guy in turn for about 10 seconds before coldly flicking them off with a laugh and turning to the next. It was a conveyor belt. Every single guy fell for it every single time. I was disgusted. I wised up after it happened twice. I watched it all unfold and kept expecting the guys to wise up long before it got to be my turn. Not a single one did, the fucking mop heads. I was amazed they could be so fucking feckless.

So when one of them came to grab me, I firmly grabbed her arms and and gently and dominantly, pushed them off me and said in her ear, ‘thanks, you’re a lovely girl, but I’m married’. I pulled back, looked in her eyes and smiled. ‘Go and dance with that guy’, I said.

I loved it. My frame changed forever.

I actually dated the girl for a while. That story ended up with her chasing me. But that’s by the by. However, comically with that girl, I had a big problem in that I had to keep pretending to be married! I couldn’t, pre game, see a way to get out of the impossible lie I’d created for myself. Now I realise I could have just said to her on the first date, ‘I don’t have a wife you dingbat, I said that because you were being a prick tease and I don’t fall for it. Now stop being wet, we’re going for a drink’.

I was so stupid I had to manage this wife. I had a fake wife! It made the whole thing impossible. I had to keep inventing things about this fake wife, Emma. I gave the wife a name (of an ex). I had to. I had a wife, she had to have a name. She had to have a name, she was my wife. The relationship ended in a really weird way as well, but that’s another story for another time.

There was another girl at uni, a Welsh girl, Sianne or something. She was fucking blinding hot. I once walked past her door in her dorm and no shit the post it notes from guys were about 40 deep. She had absolutely no interest in me whatsoever. It was never going to happen and I was savvy enough to know it. The other guys harboured wild hopes. One night when she tried to tool me like a puppy dog, I was ready for it. I threw her hands off me and said ‘Hey, don’t go putting your paws on me love. Look you’re a ice grl, but you’re not my type OK?’

I knew I was throwing nothing away. And maybe she did. But what could she say in front of everyone. I just became the only guy in town to ever blow Sianne out. And I did it publicly. People talked about that. It helped me get other girls.

There’s a lot to be said for saying, ‘you know what, on balance, I don’t know, but I just get the feeling this one is prick tease, I’m just going to squish it out in style and move on. ‘Listen, I think you’re a really… nice.. girl and I think you’ll be great for someone else’.

‘And that’s why my workout routine is far superior to his’, he gloated. He was obviously onto his fitness regime now. It was apparent I hadn’t said much of anything for at least half an hour too and he was now looking at me expectantly. ‘Does he know?’ I thought. I had a red alert situation going on here. If I was to get back to my thoughts on sales and game and girls kicking tyres, I had to think fast. Fortunately years of dealing with him has honed my skills and I launched a dynamite gambit I call the ‘half agree’. It goes like this, if I just keep nodding, he’ll realise I am not listening. If I disagree too much, he’ll press me for a full explanation, which takes a lot of focus and pulls me away from my thoughts. So I came up, years ago, with the ‘half agree’, it goes like this:

‘His routine isn’t bad though is it, it’s pretty impressive’.

Top level Krauser management. He takes the bait every time. I look like I’m listening and I give him a real bone to chew on. ‘He’ll be positioning himself above this poor sod, whoever he is talking about, for half an hour now’, I cackled to myself, ‘I’ve just bought myself half a bloody hour, I’ve enough time to do my ‘Burnley winning the Champions League’ daydream’.

As his lips continued to move, the floodlights of the San Siro filled my mind and the players lined up. The football world had been stunned by the story of how this plucky little town team in england had defied the odds and somehow got this final.

I smiled broadly and leant back… even further… in my chair. People say I’m so laid back I’m practically horizontal.

Jimmy has his own blog here which somebody somewhere might possibly have an interest in. If you feel like easy the burden of your wealth, consider my products here.

I just realised, tonight while having a drink with an active daygamer, that there is a general impression afoot in the London Daygame Community that Nick Krauser is no longer writing about daygame.

This is not true, though I can absolutely see why you’d all think that. This blog is one long procession of book reviews with only the occasional daygame post, is it not? So, I can hardly blame inquisitive minds for wondering, is Nick done with daygame?

The answer is no, I’m not done. I’m no longer a player, I don’t particularly enjoy blogging about daygame right now [1] and I certainly don’t want to see any bloody YouTube infields. But I’m not done. Not done, I TELL YA!!!!!! Let me tell you what I have written about daygame in 2018, while all those book reviews were flooding my blog:

25,000 new words of technical daygame advice for the second edition of Daygame Mastery, already published this year [2]
140,000 new words of Younger Hotter Tighter, volume 3 of the memoir, already published this year.
140,000 new words of Little Brown Sex Machines, volume 6 of the memoir, to be published later this year [3]
200,000 new words of Balls Deep second edition, volume 1 of the memoir, to be published later this year [4]

That’s FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND WORDS of new content all about DAYGAME that I’ve written this year. Do you know how much that is? It’s HALF A MILLION WORDS. Is anyone else writing that much daygame advice and field reports? No, they bloody well are not. It should now be clear why there hasn’t been much writing capacity left over for the blog.

But of course, you lads didn’t know that. How could you? I hadn’t explained it. Sorry about that. I understand this is a sub-optimal state of affairs for those of you who like a daily fix of short ephemeral daygame talk, as I’m packing everything up into big books released only a couple of times a year. It’s also sub-optimal for those of you who refuse to pay for anything and want it all for free. I’m not judging you, as I freeload plenty on YouTube myself on other subjects, but naturally you are not the market I care about [5]

So, keen daygamers and enthusiastic voyeurs alike. Keep your eyes peeled because plenty of new content will be dropping towards the arse end of this year. That stuff combined will absolutely blow away – in both quantity and quality – the kind of hastily scrawled blogposts I used to throw up for free a few years ago.

Sit tight. I always deliver on my promises.

If the act of sitting tight has caused you to notice your wallet is uncomfortably fat, perhaps consider lightening it by purchasing one of my fantastic products. Check out this product summary page.

[1] That will change in the next couple of months, I think.
[2] And the new layout was bloody hard work too! There’s a reason everyone else’s game books look like shit. No-one else is dumb enough to work as hard on them as I am. For fuck’s sake, the EXTRA CONTENT added to the main book is more than most people’s Game books have in their entirety.
[3] Probably.
[4] Almost certainly, it’s the next in the queue.
[5] That doesn’t offend you, right? You can see why I’m more interested in satisfying customers who pay me than freeloaders who don’t. If not, try writing a 5,000 word book chapter and you’ll see just how much work goes into it.

Sometimes you need to think hard and search out AMOG opportunities for your friends. Other times, AMOGs present themselves to you. When reading this 1933 book from John Creasey, the first of 28 in the Department Z series, I was elated to discover the main character is a foppish ne’erdowell called Jimmy. The story opens with him visiting his Aunt Gloria at her country home. She’s fond of him but wishes he wouldn’t waste his life.

Once again Lady Gloria laughed. This utter absurdity of Jimmy’s was infectious; a man who could make a butt for humour of his own habits and discuss his faults with such complete aplomb was surely less of a fool than he looked. Only – Lady Gloria sighed mentally – why did he make himself look such a fool?

You can bet a screencap of that paragraph got sent over WhatsApp. There was something in there to ask Jimmy.

The set up is such that I at first believed this book to be a James Bond imitation and it wasn’t until I noticed some quaint old language that I suspected it pre-dated Ian Fleming. Department Z is a secret government office run by the secretive Mr Gordon Craigie who is exactly like Mac in the Matt Helm books of thirty years later. Jimmy works as agent Number 7 attempting to root out plots against Her Majesty’s Government. His frequent trips take him overseas. To maintain secrecy, Jimmy has a cover identity as a dissolute skirt-chasing toff and it’s that which concerns his elder relatives (who aren’t read into Department Z’s existence).

Telegrams of similar nature had often come to him during the four preceding years, and directly after them he had taken a holiday from England, and spent a week, a month, or even longer in what Colonel Cann [his uncle] described as ‘women, wine and perdition’.

In the book he’s working for the Secret Service but I did need to ask Jimmy if his euro-jaunting wasn’t some kind of cover for espionage. Art imitates life and life imitates art so when Aunt Gloria questions him on his aimlessness, I couldn’t help but think these would be words I’d utter myself:

‘I think,’ she said slowly, ‘that he would be satisfied if you didn’t look quite so…. useless… sometimes.’ She eyed her companion squarely, refusing to respond to his laughter. ‘You do slide through life, don’t you, Jimmy?’

It’s lucky Death Miser contained such nuggets because it’s an otherwise crappy book. That surprised me because I’ve read a dozen John Creasys before this and they were all good. The answer lies in the date, 1933. It’s his third novel and the first two were standalones, making this his first attempt to begin a franchise. He’d written – and I’m not shitting you – a stunning 43 books before the first of his Inspector West series, which are my favourite.

Creasey got considerably better at his craft over time, as you may expect.

There’s a short interview with his son on the official John Creasey site where he explains his dad used to give himself five days to write a novel. That’s almost incomprehensibly fast for something that gets legitimately published in the paperback era [1]. Back in those days printing technology severely constrained publishing so paperback authors would literally write to certain page count, based on a multiple of the individual sheaves of papers glued inside the cover. That’s why they are all the same size.

Creasey became so confident of his ability that he wouldn’t even plot his detective stories. He’d begin with a simple idea, throw in a clue, and then have his fictional detectives solve the mystery for him as he wrote. As the protagonist moved forwards, Creasey would think up – on the spot – the next clue or next twist. He was winging it. I sensed this make-it-up-as-you-go-along plotting when first reading the Inspector West yarns and it gives an air that anything might happen. It feels real because there’s the unusual sensation of a genre novel (i.e. plot-driven) that is actually somewhat character driven.

But that was all to come. In 1933’s Death Miser, it’s just shite. Creasey was only 25 years old when it was published and it shows. It’s impressive for a young lad who banged out three novels that first year, but by the standards of regular genre fiction its very immature. Half the time I wasn’t even sure what was supposed to be happening.

The story is thus. Jimmy is out in the countryside visiting his Aunt Gloria when he gets a telegram from Department Z telling him to put a watch on his next door neighbour Thomas Loder, a suspicious character. It turns out a dozen bad apples are having secret meetings there and the boss wants to know what. He meets a stunning girl who he goes doolally over but the least credible turn is that her dad (and Jimmy’s neighbour) is the head of an international criminal network that is about to pull the trigger on a World Revolution.

Yeah, they just happened to set-up their HQ next door to Department Z’s top operative. That’s roughly equivalent to Spectre setting up shop next door to James Bond’s apartment in Sloane Square. You’d have to be 25 years old to write that.

Jimmy blunders his way through a couple of gun-fights, cabaret shows, car chases and showdowns with The Miser (the dad) and it’s dreadfully dull. I dare say that Fallen Angel was more skilfully written. So, this book is a load of shit. I don’t recommend it at all. I do, however, absolutely recommend John Creasey’s later work. He’s an accomplished pro by the time Inspector West appears.

Speaking of accomplished pros, you might want to check out my books available in the USA here, the rest of the world from Amazon here, and if you want to know more about each book and what it’ll teach you, look at my product summary here.

[1] As opposed to Kindle Direct Publishing where there’s no such quality control and books are often less than half the size.

I don’t know what possessed me to read this book [1] seeing as it’s the second in a series where the first one was a bit shit, and the series evidently didn’t catch on first time around because it ended after the third book. But….. how can I put this? Reading Fallen Angel was the literary equivalent of eating a McDonald’s cheeseburger or gutter-gaming a gook: a squalid guilty pleasure precisely because it was a bit grotty.

I dunno, doesn’t Karl Jung talk something about the ‘shadow self’? Isn’t there a strain in psychology discussing the death wish [2] and our atavistic tendency towards occasional self-debasement? If I remember correctly, life in the Garden Of Eden was just lovely until Adam decided to eat the forbidden fruit and begin the fall of mankind. Anyway, my point being that my reading trashy books is an expression of a long lineage of self-destructive human behaviour.

That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.

So imagine my surprise when this book turned to be good fun. Yes, The Werewolf Walks Tonight was a solid afternoon’s read. Not literature, and certainly not award-winning, but fun to read. Authors say you can ‘find the book in the writing of it’ and I think that’s what happened with Michael Avallone in his series. Book one started very clunkily indeed and didn’t find its way until halfway through. Book two also starts feebly but picks up much earlier. That got me speculating about the conditions under which Avallone wrote.

I have a writer friend nicknamed Juggernaut due to his resemblance to the Marvel villain [3] who had the good grace to edit volume three of my memoir Younger Hotter Tighter. “It starts unsteady but really hits its stride during the Brazil chapters” he told me. “And your introductions are shit.” Should I rewrite it, I asked. “Nah man. Editing is gay. Go on to the next book. Learn by writing.”

I absolutely believe writers find their books by writing. Even the fantastically talented Erle Stanley Gardner began his Perry Mason series with a couple of clunking chapters. You need time with your characters and precis until you work out how it’s meant to hang together. Some writers are perfectionists so they’ll write the book and then, having found it, go back to the beginning and rewrite it in the new style. A prolific hack like Michael Avallone ain’t got no time for that. He wrote over 220 books and you don’t do that by looking backwards, do you Sonny Jim? By the time his editor was checking out chapter one of Fallen Angel, he was likely halfway through The Werewolf Walks Tonight.

It was really apparent from book one that Avallone doesn’t rewrite his books. I suspect his editors had a big polishing job ahead of them. Reading The Werewolf Walks Tonight was like watching a boxing rematch – round one is really round thirteen. The guys already know each other, and have already adapted.

The story here concerns a tiny town in the Deep South called Fletcherville. The body of their priest is found in the forest with his throat ripped out, and soon after three more bodies are found. The injuries look inhuman, like the savaging of a wild beast, and word spreads there’s a werewolf on the loose. The Satan Sleuth, Philip St George, perks up his ears and goes to investigate. What follows is more like a murder mystery than an actioneer and it felt a little like a low-rent Matt Helm story. It’s short and doesn’t overstay it’s welcome. The combined Deep South atmosphere, multiple perspective characters, and supernatural overtones hang together long enough to produce a satisfying conclusion. The pace never drops.

I’m going to give Avallone another chance because I’m starting to think we got off on the wrong foot together with Fallen Angel. The guy writes full-blooded and without faggotry, getting straight to the point. Kindle Unlimited showed me he has a thirty-volume hard-boiled detective series so I’m curious to see how he handles different genres. If he’s the American John Creasey, I’ll be all over it.

It appears my books are all on Amazon now, for worldwide sale. They must run an automated script to pick up Ingram distributed books. Anyway, it’s good news because you can now get full colour latest editions of my books, hardcover or softcover, and save a packet on postage too. Let me know how the ordering process goes. Customers in the USA are still better off going direct to my Ingram sales page, as you’ll get exactly the same thing but faster and at no extra cost. Click here to know what products I’m selling.

[1] Excuse the pun.
[2] No, not the cool movie series.
[3] Friend is perhaps stretching it. More like an acquaintance. Or hanger-on.

This page explains the products I have for sale relating to daygame and seduction. Hopefully it’ll help you decide which is appropriate for your position and needs. First, at the high level, there are THREE categories:

 

Pick-up Textbooks – These explain how to do daygame, with many many examples of what you say and do at each stage of the seduction.
Pick-up Videos – These too explain daygame in detail and you are buying a login to my teaching platform.
Pick-up Memoirs – This series of books tells my story, taking you on the journey of how I learnt game. They are full of field reports, lay reports, and analysis of a player’s life. They are highly instructional.

 

PICK UP TEXTBOOKS

Daygame Mastery – The core textbook of how to pick-up girls from the street, cafes, and any other daytime situation you can conceive. It’s a massive 524 pages in full colour and walks you through the daygame model from beginning to end. So it begins with the inner game, to get your mind straight and to battle approach anxiety. Then I explain choosing targets and how to stop girls. It’s extremely detailed on the body language, behaviour, and what to say. Then there is extensive text game advice and the full date model. This book is my bestseller and since its release four years ago it has transformed the daygame community. Start here.

I recommend the new second edition. It’s full colour, containes 20% addition content over the first edition, and looks nicer. See the video above for a hands-on look. The second edition is available in the big A4 hardback suitable for pride of place on your bookshelf, and also as a small (6″x4″) full colour Pocket paperback suitable for travel, with a subtle cover so no-one knows what you’re reading. The content is identical.

Daygame Infinite – This companion textbook to Daygame Mastery pushes into advanced territory. Like Mastery it is full colour and a massive 575 pages full of illustrations, demonstration photos, and detailed reproductions of real-life text chats with girls. Daygame Infinite focuses on improving your vibe and calibration. It is packed with advice to clear your mind and present yourself as a cool, well-balanced man. There is a massive dating section using transcripts of real-life dates with hot girls, explaining why I’m doing what I’m doing.

Currently in its first edition, it too is available in A4 hardback and the smaller Pocket Edition here. It’s best to consider Mastery and Infinite as volumes 1 and 2 of the same comprehensive work.

Daygame Nitro – This old classic was the first textbook on the London Daygame Model. It is recommended for readers new to daygame, perhaps having only done a hundred sets, or for those used to ‘indirect game’ wishing to transition to the more ballsy and effective ‘direct’ style. Nitro is much simpler and easier to practice that Mastery and Infinite, though it’s the same model. Consider this the introductory book.

Now in it’s second edition, Nitro is an A4 hardback with B/W interior available here.

 

 

PICK UP VIDEOS

Daygame Overkill – This is the core video instructional. It comes in two parts. First is a theoretical seminar explaining the difference between traditional pick-up and the faster, more dynamic ‘bad boy’ pickup. The second part is the demonstration. There are ten infield videos of me picking up girls. The real sauce is in the analysis. Unlike other ‘highlight reel’ infield products, Daygame Overkill goes into extreme detail explaining exactly what is happening, both in my technique and the girl’s response to it. All videos are subtitled so you don’t miss a word. After watching Daygame Overkill, you’ll know exactly how to ‘read’ a set so you always know how it’s going. READ MORE, AND BUY IT HERE.

Black Book – This is a seminar in which I explain intermediate daygame and dating to a crowd of beginners. It has workshop tasks such as how to create unique openers, how to sit on a date, how to smoothly escalate. There is no infield. It’s pure theory and workshop demonstration. READ MORE, AND BUY IT HERE.

Womanizers Bible – This seminar covers high level mindset, outlining how a successful seducer thinks of the world and his place within it. It peels back the curtain to what is really going on, on a deep level. I don’t cover infield techniques. Womanizers Bible is all about the inner game. READ MORE, AND BUY IT HERE.

 

 

PICK UP MEMOIR

#1 Balls Deep – This is a story – my story – of why I turned to Game and how I began the seemingly impossible task of transforming from a chubby timid office worker into a charismatic seducer of beautiful women. It begins in 2009 with my divorce, aged 34 years old, and chronicles the next two years by which point I’m a decent player. Currently in it’s first edition, available in A5 paperback (B/W interior) here or in full-colour PDF.

#2 A Deplorable Cad – The story continues as I’m living in a ‘pick-up’ mansion in London with a team of seducers. We travel the world, chase skirt, and get into all kinds of trouble. This volume covers the next two years of my journey. The full colour second edition is available in A5 hardbacks and paperback. There is also a B/W first edition available here, but I strongly recommend the second edition. The text is the same, but the second edition is full colour and has a tidier layout.

#3 Younger Hotter Tighter – It’s now 2013 and I’m a full-time skirt-chaser. Follow my adventures as I visit Brazil, Belarus and everywhere in between. This is available only as A5 hardback and paperback, in full colour. Available here in the US, and here outside the USA.

 

#4 Adventure Sex – The memoir series closes with an account of my most successful year as a player – 2014. We have lay-upon-lay, all described in detail so you can reproduce my technique, and much rumination on how it feels to live a player’s life. The second edition is a full-colour A5 hardback or softcover with an updated layout. The first edition is still available here, in B/W, with the same text but the second edition is much nicer.

 

 

The latest versions of all my books is available to readers in the USA by visiting this online bookstore. I recommend it because you have the most choice of format, can save money on postage, and it’s a streamlined order process. Sadly, that site will not ship outside the USA.

Readers outside the USA should order manually, by sending me a PayPal payment. Go here to understand how that works.

My first editions in B/W are all available on the Lulu bookshop. It’s simple to order, but just bear in mind you are not getting the latest versions and I don’t offer discounts or ‘trade in’ on later editions.

I hope this clarifies things.

Nick