Serialized novels had their heyday over a century ago, and then—like dodos, stove pipe hats, and passenger pigeons—they completely died off. Fickle capitalism!
My revival attempt here is self-serving (it's a blog, after all), but also part of the process of work-shopping my second novel, This Location of Unknown Possibilities. Second novels are notoriously cursed and difficult affairs. Mine is no exception to that rule, not least because while I'm smitten with it almost everyone else and their aunt the literary agent thinks it ought to be shelved, drawer'd, burned, and forgotten.
Posting it, then, is intended to...I'm not entirely sure. Provide me with a 'writing cure'? Enchant readers? Give me feedback? Publicly commit to announcing my belief in the novel? (I am sure, however, that my intent is not to appear foolish and deluded, like a wannabe contestant on a singing competition who believes he's the next Pavarotti when truly he bellows like a dying walrus.)