Selling an Image (1308 hits)
Category: GeneralRating: 1.83 on 41 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by pen_name (View user info) at 2005-10-17 11:53:30 EDT
When you write a book, you have to market it. Shelly tells me all the time, "Joe, the books don't sell themselves; you got to get you're name out there—tour the college circuit, get on a few talk shows."
She's right, of course.
You could have written every Gospel in the New Testament, but if you didn't have Jesus to sell it, you wouldn't make dime one; without that shaggy-headed hippy on the book jacket, no one would have gotten past the front page.
Even the bible needed a little P.R.
So, here I am in Bumfuck, Iowa, sitting in a Barnes and Noble that caters to dairy farmers looking for information on teat sucking machines, and chunky housewives needing a book that'll get them wet, that will make them feel like they married Buck Hardass, or Thor Meatwand. I'm sitting here, solidifying my legacy and preaching to heathens, telling them that my biography of King Wilhelm I is a great read.
It's not working. I don't pass for Jesus, and everyone wanders around my table like I'm trying to sell them a used muffler.
In fact, it's been so slow I've only seen three people today. My first visitor was a short, frumpy woman named Margaret. She had a nose like a plum and spoke in hurried whispers. She just wanted to discuss the news, rambling on and on about some kids that smeared cow shit on the front of the high school, and about the latest psychopath—some whackjob who's doling out Columbian neckties, like raffle tickets. Only this woman didn't know what a Columbian necktie was, so I had to explain it to her. By the end, she walked away disgusted that I could know such things. She walked away without pretending to want my book.
My other two visitors were a pair of teenage boys. They waited patiently for me to sign their copies, standing tall like proper gentlemen. They wore torn jeans and ketchup-stained t-shirts—the taller one had caption on the front his telling me to "sit on it." There was also a shiny red arrow pointing south.
When I finished my scrawl, they dropped the books on the floor and ran away laughing. They sprinted through the doors, turning around just long enough to mock me through the plate-glass window, to make fun of the chimp in the zoo.
I'm in Bumfuck, Iowa and Shelly tells me that everyone starts in the small towns. She tells me all the authors do it.
Only, I'm not sure they had they to sign books in front of drug stores and behind Laundromats. I'm not sure they had to plug their shit on public access television, appearing before the guy who makes matchstick people, but after Edith's dancing dog—a three legged bitch that twirls on its hind legs, like a drunk struggling to find the right sleeve of his inside-out jacket.
A woman just walked by. She didn't even look at me. I'm the homeless guy you ignore on your way to work. I'm the birthday clown riding on the subway.
Another woman drifts through the doors. She looks interested. She might get a book. No, she sees my floppy shoes and snickers. She wants Daniel Steele, not Joe Nobody. I can't give her romance, and even if I could, I wouldn't want to. I write about history; I record the facts.
My old history teacher used to tell me that facts lead us to new doorways. The more you learn, he'd say, the more well-rounded you become. Trouble is, nobody cares about my take on some Prussian king. Reading it won't make your dick hard or your pussy quiver.
Shelly tells me I should invest more of my money into my image; maybe get a new suit and a haircut. She tells me I could buy reviews in newspapers. For 200 bucks, I could be "evocative". For $350, I could be a "startling new voice," or a "gripping storyteller." Of course, that's only here in the small towns—only in Bumfuck. I couldn't afford to be a hit in Boston or New York. I'd have to mortgage my house for a negative review in LA.
Then there are the travel fees. Originally, my publisher offered to pay the bills. "First class all the way," he said. Then the stock dipped. Then there were budget cuts and lawsuits. After that, it was all on me. After that, all I heard was "Do your best."
I've spent five grand traveling and doing my best. I sleep wherever I can to save on hotels. Twice, I've woken to shouts and blunt fists, to people asking me why I'm snoozing in their goddamn car. I tell them, "I'm getting my name out; I'm selling an image."
For food, I eat whatever I can get my hands on. I pick half-eaten burgers out of trashcans; I drink out of abandoned coffee cups. My blood might be swimming with botulism, but I'm going to wear Armani. Shelly says I'm prime to go right to the top.
And here I am, sitting in a Barnes and Noble in Bumfuck, Iowa.
I'm pissed. I admit it. But I can't get too down. I'm sure my next book will be my meal ticket. By then I'll be a respectable author, not just some schlub trying to hawk what's left of his pride.
I've already got the topic. I'll write about that serial killer in the news. People love romance, but they eat up human misery. They thrive on it, like dogs on horsemeat. The Franco-Prussian war had its share of bloody battles, and upwards of a million people died, but nobody cares about those strange ghosts—to them they're just blank faces. Readers need to see the carnage, to be so close that they can smell the blood.
Maybe this killer, this maniac with a fetish for formal dress attire...maybe he will have what the people want. I'm hopeful.
In fact, I've already begun my research.
Shelly is insistent when it comes to the writing. She says, "Wow them with details." But what do I know about Columbian Neckties? Before my book, I only owned three of the regular ones, and I needed help tying my knots.
Once again, my agent was there when I needed her. She knows everything.
The first thing to know is that people don't go down without a fight. Shelly will tell ya, they struggle, even after their throat has been cut, even after it starts spurting like a fucking fire hydrant.
The best way is to manage it, Shelly says, is to slit the throat and wait for a good amount of blood to run out—to wait until the victim gets weak and stops thrashing, until she stops grabbing for her neck, let's go of the purse and drops her cell phone.
Shelly will tell you that the victim can feel it when you reach into her esophagus and dig for her tongue. After you find the tongue, after you get your fingers on it and pull it down, well, Shelly won't tell you anything after that. After that, you're on your own.
I find if you want it to look good—if you want it to really stand out—you have to score the tongue in the mouth, underneath, where it drapes back into the throat. That gives it more reach. Nobody wants a necktie that's two sizes too small—especially my future readers.
Still there is more to learn. It'll take a while to get everything down, but I got plenty of time. There's no shortage of source material.
Right now, I'll focus on this book tour. To my surprise, I'm having more success in Bumfuck. The night crowd seems more interested. I've just signed a few copies. More people seem to wait behind them.
I guess Shelly was right. Persistence is the key.
I think I'll call the police and tell them where they can find her body. Shelly deserves that much—besides, my Columbian friend needs a little more P.R.
User Reviews
Submitted by Blinkish (user info) at 2005-12-22 21:11:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I read this before and didn't rate it .....
Still a great story, I enjoyed it even more the second time.
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-12-22 20:39:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
i just read this again, and i'm awesome.
Submitted by nahnoneofit (user info) at 2005-12-04 06:16:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
oh word nevermind.
good story
Submitted by nahnoneofit (user info) at 2005-12-04 06:14:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
i dont believe it!
prove to us that this story is true.
Submitted by Wisher (user info) at 2005-12-04 05:56:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-11-03 02:13:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
it was a typo
even god makes typos.
Submitted by erinly (user info) at 2005-11-03 02:02:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-11-03 01:42:48 (#)
Ranking: 0
ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
aren't you a bad ass? Listen, your response didn't make sense. i just wanted clarification.
you're as vindicive as a lesbian feminist whose been hit on the ass and told she was "hot stuff."
---
Right. How's law school?
VindicTive is the word you were searching for there, hot stuff.
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-11-03 01:42:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
aren't you a bad ass? Listen, your response didn't make sense. i just wanted clarification.
you're as vindicive as a lesbian feminist whose been hit on the ass and told she was "hot stuff."
Submitted by erinly (user info) at 2005-11-03 01:36:02 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Writing skills. I wasn't going to -2 for the sake of -2ing it.... until now.
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-11-03 01:32:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by erinly (user info) at 2005-11-03 01:22:40 (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by forthewin (user info) at 2005-11-03 01:19:19 (#)
Ranking: 2
Read this before, and forget to rate it.
Great job. I wish I had writing skills.
---
Me too.
________
by the way erin, what were you refering to?
was it your writing skills, or the fact that you forgot to rate it?
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-11-03 01:24:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
haha, i got plenty of posts guys. get goin'
Submitted by crownofsuns (user info) at 2005-11-03 01:22:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by erinly (user info) at 2005-11-03 01:22:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by forthewin (user info) at 2005-11-03 01:19:19 (#)
Ranking: 2
Read this before, and forget to rate it.
Great job. I wish I had writing skills.
---
Me too.
Submitted by forthewin (user info) at 2005-11-03 01:19:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Read this before, and forget to rate it.
Great job. I wish I had writing skills.
Submitted by electrictoothsyndrome (user info) at 2005-10-21 14:31:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Wasn't a huge fan of the outcome of the plot, but this was VERY well written. You seem to have a really good grasp of first person narration. Maybe you should write a book.
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-10-21 14:09:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
it's tough to pick a bumfuck. i could have picked nebraska, and a van full of cornhuskers would have come to my house and kicked my ass.
if it helps, i love iowa. You'll always find, MILES OF SMILES.
http://www.iowatourism.org/
Submitted by celine (user info) at 2005-10-21 08:42:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice image. I happen to live in Bumfuck, Iowa, but there isn't a Barnes & Noble with 40 miles. You must have been in Des Bumfucks, Bumfuck Bluffs, Sioux Bumfuck, or Waterbumfuckloo.
Or you just randomly chose the state. I'll buy that. Around here, Bumfuck is in Nebraska.
Submitted by kimmy02721 (user info) at 2005-10-19 12:51:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
this was badass. went in a completely different direction than what i expected.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2005-10-18 09:42:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by trent_nz (user info) at 2005-10-17 23:37:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
cool story
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-10-17 21:12:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Hookhand (user info) at 2005-10-17 18:24:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Good story. People who write history books really are useless.
Submitted by userpete86 (user info) at 2005-10-17 17:58:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Meh, so so :)
Submitted by Serious_Melvin (user info) at 2005-10-17 15:11:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-10-17 14:51:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by jack11058 (user info) at 2005-10-17 14:25:53 (#)
Ranking: 2
king has done the author-as bad guy to death.
but this was great
______________________
I agree, but i couldn't shake this idea. i went to borders a week ago and had to go to the back of the store, and search the bottom right of the very last shelf for the book i wanted (sarah vowell's "take the Cannoli: stories from the new world"). Then i got to thinking: i wonder if an author would become a serial killer, just to get featured up front.
of course, this didn't really follow that idea exactly, but that's how it started.
Submitted by jack11058 (user info) at 2005-10-17 14:25:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
king has done the author-as bad guy to death.
but this was great
Submitted by tinactin (user info) at 2005-10-17 13:32:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This is my favorite of your posts
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2005-10-17 13:21:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I googled Colombian Necktie. Nice.
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-10-17 13:04:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
That's weird. It's like something out of that twilighty show about
that zone.
-- Homer Simpson
Treehouse of Horror VI
This rocked. Slightly predictable, but then, what isn't?
Submitted by ahumblefool (user info) at 2005-10-17 13:02:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Fantastic.
Submitted by wookie (user info) at 2005-10-17 12:42:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Foonbo (user info) at 2005-10-17 12:40:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Thor Meatwand = auto +2.
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-10-17 12:36:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
wow, thanks guys.
Submitted by FartSmeller (user info) at 2005-10-17 12:29:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by ruthless (user info) at 2005-10-17 12:27:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Fuck!
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2005-10-17 12:27:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
OMG FICTION ON UBER THAT IS GOOD WHATEVER FUCKING NEXT???
Submitted by Ejryuu (user info) at 2005-10-17 12:20:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Fantastic!
Submitted by Merlina (user info) at 2005-10-17 12:16:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Totally, totally awesome.
plus fucking two
Submitted by missedthepoint (user info) at 2005-10-17 12:14:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
top shelf
Submitted by FartSmeller (user info) at 2005-10-17 12:13:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Fucking WOW.
Submitted by yermom (user info) at 2005-10-17 12:10:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was good, needs some reviews.