Well, I can’t believe I’m doing this, but here I go. Into the abyss. My poor, beloved brother not even in his grave a week, and already, I’m sitting here at my computer, starting the damned book everybody but me wants me to write. And frankly, it makes me sick.
I only hope you, dear reader, are more up to this than I am. I can picture you there, sitting back, this latest edition in your hot little hands. The loving, heart felt testimonial from one brother to another. The tribute to the man who brought so much joy and happiness to people all over the world. The tortured, misunderstood genius who walked a tragic path of self destruction that eventually ruined everything he ever worked for and brought about his own sad demise in the process.
Bull.
So I’ll take the money, and plunge into the ugly depths of depravity, so to speak, but I’m going to write the story the way I see fit. My way. No love letter to my dearly departed brother. Just truth. The things you never heard about. The things you may not want to hear about. It’s not too late to back out now, you know. No hard feelings, dear reader, if you do.
It is, however, too late for me...
