Three golden words to describe this.
Too much information.
Like, listen here baka, I know we're willingly reading your book, but do you know why we are reading said book?
For the storyline.
Not for a live commentary about your life and your problems, et cetera.
Now the teensy authors note at the end, I can understand, but two pages content with a damn ten page essay on how your boyfriend ignores you and you 'just don't have the magic anymore' is a sure shot way to ensure some hate filled, venomous comments.
That kind of stuff is what a bio is for. Or a best friend, perhaps.
Even better, get a shrink, love.
Have some mercy.
Lots of love,
A very, very happy still_awesome.
YOU ARE READING
What Not To Do!
AcakWays to make sure I (and hopefully most other educated individuals), won't chuck their device at the nearest wall in rage while reading your book.
