Here’s where you go to order. I too have reviews. They’re not even from real critics. They’re from readers like you who post them on Amazon. This doesn’t have the legitimacy of the Podunk Picayune-Intelligence but here’s one of the reviews:
Will a desperate television executive resort to murder to keep his top-rated sitcom on the air? And which LA hotel is it that only gets to host the humanitarian dinners of second-rung honorees? Ken Levine answers both in his deft and very funny mixture of darkly broad satire and wickedly observed minutiae of everything and everyone television. A fast, stinging novel, full of great throwaway comedy, about a group of entertainingly miserable people and what they'll do to hang onto that misery at all costs.
(For the record, Rich had trouble with WHITNEY.)
The truth is ebooks sell better than hardcopies today. (You can order the Kindle version here.) And although I love my Kindle, there’s still something cool about a physical book. As an author, to me it’s not a real book until you hold it in your hands. Plus, you can have book signings and there’s like the surprise of being on vacation, browsing through a vintage bookstore and finding your book on the one dollar remainder table. People ask why writers write? That’s why we do it.
And you can’t hide comic books behind Kindles. When I was in school I would often appear to be reading THE RED BADGE OF COURAGE or CANTERBURY TALES when in truth I was catching up on the latest edition of BATMAN or BETTY & VERONICA.
I hope you get my paperback. And it’s just the right size for hiding your smartphone inside so you can play videogames.
Okay, here’s one more review. I couldn’t resist.
MUST KILL TV is only about the television business the way CATCH-22 was only about war and CONFEDERACY OF DUNCES was only about hot dogs. Ken Levine has written what he knows, and it is not TV. It is satire. He has taken a savage leap into the absurdities of character, obsession, and excess. Nothing is sacred. Not even Westside youth soccer or that venerable institution, the in-office massage. A fast-paced finger swiper that only slows when you stop to laugh.
So seriously, how bad can it be? Many thanks!