Is there one single fan of the book At Home* on the Internet?

NO TALKING SHOP, NO DAILY GRIND. Paris, 42 rue de l’Yvette, Friday 14 March 2014, twenty-nine minutes past nine… Of course, I’m being provocative, but deep down, I’m not exaggerating that much. I’m curious to know why the publication of my little book At Home (see Love*, one of its 53 ‘installations’ above) has received nothing but deafening silence on www.blurb.com. This question is addressed to all of you online, whether writer or amateur photographer: have you ever sold one of your books through the Internet? It might be a collection of poetry, your wedding album, a story extolling some place or other, whatever… I’d be interested to hear your adventures, and when you reply please to tell me the title of your work, its price, the name of the publisher and how many copies have been sold. Me, I’ve sold zero. Yes, zero sales…zero responses, zero emails… It’s become a little song going round in my head when I walk through the Bois de Boulogne. But it doesn’t stop me, at the moment in any case, from walking with a spring in my step, or from feeing moved as I walk past the first violets. So, my friends, keep walking!