Taxbell

By Zvi Zaks

George Bullington lives in a world where brainwave detectors register all pleasurable sensations, and bureaucrats then levy taxes. Georges copes with the intrusions as well as he can, but how long can he hold out?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zvi Zaks
• Release date: May 13, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476373423

Zvi Zaks

I've been writing off and on literally for decades with little luck in publishing. I could blame it on my schedule as a doctor -- too many years having a 24-7 call schedule -- but plenty of other doctors have managed to combine writing and medicine. The real problem was the off and on had too much off and not enough on. Internet writers circles helped me sell a few short stories, but I really wanted to publish a book. Second only to becoming a grandfather--something I had no say about--becoming a published novelist was my biggest goal. An unrelenting series of rejections almost had me ready to give up. Then Lilly Press accepted my novel IMPLAC, an evil robot story. I was ecstatic. Even the editing process was a joy. Unfortunately, Lilly went bankrupt and it was back to the slush pile for me. At least now I knew that some professionals valued my work. "Query Tracker" forum taught me how to write a decent query, I sent out a batch of letters to small publishers, and in 2010 Eternal Press accepted A VIRTUAL AFFAIR. No ecstasy this time, but I was still happy that at age 68 I would finally have a book for sale. It's never too late to pursue your dream. The book was published on January 8, 2011. A week earlier, my son called me, "Dad, Rosemarie has gone into labor." Eight hours later, Aliana was born. I flew down to see her the day the book was published. Even though I had striven for many years to get published, at this moment, the book didn't matter. I have my priorities.

Book preview

THE TAXBELL

By

Zvi Zaks

Copyright 2010 by Zvi Zaks

Smashwords Edition

ISBN - 9781476373423

George Bullington wanted to see himself as a valiant knight, but that wasn't easy. The problem wasn't a lack of shining armor; he was quite satisfied with his gray synthwool suit. It was the overwhelming challenges in his life that made the image of a noble warrior hard to sustain.

One winter evening, he left his office with its battles against governmental bureaucracy, and walked through the bitter wind and swirling snow to the subway that would take him to the peace and security of his household. He arrived at the apartment, keyed the thumbpad and opened the door with a quasihearty, I'm home.

Eight-year-old Marc sat with eyes glued to the tri-D. Hi, Dad, he said,