The Rules Redux: 5 Reasons Why I Probably Won't Read Your Book

Inspired by the odd return of a self-published author who once accosted me at a book fair by introducing himself as a master of Sinanju, the new lead singer of Journey and the once and future king of Terrabithia (or something akin to that), and who later was angered by the fact that I would not read his book and review it in my column in the Mercury to the point that he sent me 10 pages of another book to review personally, of which I read all 10 and kindly informed him of why I didn't like it, which caused said King of Terrabithia to send me several emails calling me names, I present 5 reasons why I'm not likely to read your book if you accost me in person or online.

1. I really don't want to. Nothing personal. Really. But here's the deal: I read a lot of books for enjoyment by writers I like. I also read a lot of books by my students, which I find very edifying in a number of ways. I read books professionally for blurbs and reviews. I also like to play video games, listen to music and watch Tivo'd episodes of The Office until my entire vocabulary consists of the chorus to Handbags & Gladrags. I also like, you know, doing jack shit. You know, sitting around, reading US, pondering the careers of Johnny Knoxville, Levar Burton and Dan Brown. Pulling out ingrown hairs from my neckline. Living, basically. And while I'm sure you slaved over your book, I really don't want to read it.

2. It probably sucks. If you're not sure if this is true, here are a few clues: It's bound. You've placed a copyright notice and the words "All rights reserved" somewhere on the cover page. Your social security number is on the cover page. You've included a full dedication and acknowledgments in the manuscript. There are footnotes and your name doesn't end in Foster-Wallace. You've decided that the book would look better if instead of quotation marks you use dashes. It's loosely based on your own life and your life consists of stalking authors and asking them to read your book.

3. You compare your book to another popular or acclaimed book, or compare it to a book on drugs, or compare it to two disparate books. Ex: "My book is like Atonement, except that it takes place in space and is really about me and my fucked up parents." "My book is like Of Mice And Men on Percocet." "My book is like 100 Years of Solitude meets Get Shorty, but with cats."

4. You don't actually want my help. It's true. You want approval or the name of an agent. You want someone to tell you that the hoops weren't made for you to jump through. How do I know? Because every single solitary person who has accosted me as said fucktard did above, or who has emailed me blindly, and who for some reason I have provided an honest opinion to has told me I'm an asshole. All of them. I recall well when my cousin Leigh's hairdresser sent me his 30 page epic poem and asked for my opinion, which I provided at length, because my cousin asked me to. Fine. No problem. Take one for the family. A week later, I received a five page single-spaced rant calling me a jealous and evil man who has no sense of the word at all and that my work is probably crap and that I should be ashamed of calling myself a writer and that he'd call me from the National Book Awards. Oddly, I haven't seen his name in print yet...

5. You're fucking crazy. How do I know this? Well, I know a lot of published authors, aspiring authors and people who, incredibly, call themselves "pre-published" and each is a fucking whack job. I'm not so stable myself. My brother is certifiable and may be slightly autistic. My sisters are a couple clowns short of a circus. My mom is not just crazy, but dangerous. You are a nuts. Crazy. Unhinged. And that's cool. Own it. Just don't send me your book.

Comments

[Jocelyn]

I'm not so stable myself. My brother is certifiable and may be slightly autistic. My sisters are a couple clowns short of a circus. My mom is not just crazy, but dangerous. You are a nuts. Crazy. Unhinged. And that's cool. Own it. Just don't send me your book.

Tod, I hate to break the news to you, but although that last little schpeal would put off just about any sane human being, it won't put off any pre-published writer. Hell, it probably won't put off any aspiring author or published author either.

Are you getting the correlation? Have you EVER met a writer who isn't just slightly nuckin' futs? If you say you have ever met an entirely same writer, I won't believe you.

If you confess to being slightly unstable, and do so with wit and delightful irony, they'll be lining up at your next book-signing with their manuscripts!

Writers are at least slightly addled by their very nature.

Signed,

Jocelyn, case in point

[Jim Winter]

"Hell, it probably won't put off any aspiring author or published author either."

Yes, but a published author, even a guy with a small press hoping to sell four-figures, let alone beyond his immediate family, would symptathize. Why? As soon as your book appears on Amazon, suddenly every nitwit with a manuscript is crawling out of the woodwork coming after you.

And if they find out you have an agent, that's even worse. I know of one writer who was chased into the bathroom. The woman chasing her stood outside the stall in tears pleading for the secret of finding (ie - getting a referral to) an agent.

[Jocelyn]

You misunderstood me, Jim. I meant that claiming to be bonkers won't put off anyone (although pointing out that he doesn't WANT to read so-and-so's manuscript would put off the reasonably self-respecting ones.)

I know of one writer who was chased into the bathroom. The woman chasing her stood outside the stall in tears pleading for the secret of finding (ie - getting a referral to) an agent.

Okay, you have GOT to tell that story! My curiosity is killing me!

[Lynsi]

I'm curious as to Levar Burton's career as well. Where the heck is he now?

[Jim Winter]

"You misunderstood me, Jim. I meant that claiming to be bonkers won't put off anyone"

True. Usually, it's an excuse to go find the bar, actually.

As for that story, that's about all I got on it. If I could remember who told it originally, I could point you to her.

I know it happened to Crais once, but he didn't give details.

[Jocelyn]

It's really interesting, the things that happen to writers that I used to think only happened to politicians.

Maybe I wasn't that far off on my career choices as I thought!

[Graham]

Re: Rule 4 - is there *anyone* who has never called you an asshole? I'm not saying anything, I'm just sayin'...

[Bill Peschel]

Don't forget this:

6. No, I won't help, not even for a share of the royalties.

I got that one from a guy who wrote a book like "Godel, Escher and Bach" and wanted help. He offered me half the royalties if I would. Turned him down flat, I did.

The kicker was that, at the time, I was book page editor for a 30,000-circ. paper. You know you're getting desperate when you're hitting on book reviewers for help. That's like Hollywood starlets sleeping with the screenwriter.

[The Evil J Winter]

I just read a few paragraphs of the first chapter.

I have a headache now.

I'm not kidding.

[Kelley Bell]

OMG!
What are you people saying!
I have been bleeding my soul into my book for three weeks now, and you mean to tell me that all of you in the "successful writers club" are not going to come rushing to my aid, and hold my hand, and shower me with encouragment, and introduce me to agents, and line me up with publishers, and take me to dinner, and tell me I'm wonderful, and promote my unique sense of genius while making me rich and incredibly famous!!!!

I'm crushed.

[Burl Barer]

There are three important exceptions to the Five Reasons:
1. Discernment. Some instinctual prompting tells you "this person is for real." Tom Murphy, one of America's most brilliant radio talents, taught me this in 1965. "Most people who want to talk to someone in the industry that they admire are either appreciative fans, or irritating nut-cases. Then, once in a while, someone asks your advice or requests a bit of direction, and you can just tell that they are for real - a talented person with potential who shouldn't be denied whatever help you can provide. The trick is discernment. How do you tell? You just feel it intuitively."

2. Detatchement. This is where you give your help or advice, and then detach yourself from the outcome. You must resist the temptation to become part of their project as a form of self-vindication (see, I was right to help them) or, God forbid, undermine thier success if it turns out that they are gifted beyond your wildest dreams.

3. Decopage. This is when you paste pictures from magazines all over the outside of something, then varnish it all with some sort of clear coat. It is an advanced form of "sticking macaroni on baby food jars, and spray painting them." Some people call it "art," but it is technically "craft." Writing is a craft. The stereotypical swan-necked author mistakes adequate craft for inspirational art, much as the presumptive social critic mistakes shyness for aloofness, and sinus for snobbery.
With ten published books, an Edgar Award, and two Anthony Award nominations, I know for a fact that my first book contract arrived not as a result of my efforts, but because another published author pitched the project to his publisher on my behalf, without my knowledge. Then again, that author was my nephew, Lee. I guess the fourth rule breaker is: Family is family, and there must be a reason why we all learned to type.

[Gendy Alimurung]

Decoupage rocks!

[Anea]

I couldn't agree more, decopage is truly the key.

[Tono Rondone]

What I find interesting is the only eventful circumstance this otherwise witless author has to write about is how he is unreachable and will not read other author's work. Of course, he can pander to ex LA Times reviewers or teach classes in creative writing, though it can't be taught and he doesn't care what your academic creditials have to offer anyway. I never even heard of him and haven't read a word of his stuff, and he hasn't suggested nor offer a line. Gosh almighty, dude.

I intuit that neither Tod nor nee pugh Lee (sounds like the three penny opera) have anything to produce of a really original nature, which was my gaff with them in the first place -- no, just with Tod. He's rambling on and on about my stuff, yet, he's not asked me to read any work of his and comment. Why? Too high and mighty? I doubt it. Rather, I think, he's pegged to the wall by his obvious sellout. So, I challenge these gentlemen: What will you ask me to read, as original, creative, non repetitive and risky fiction? Where are your ten page websites, lauding your sinularly unique books, your paintings, your music, as I have?

I know full well that you two wouldn't know art from passing gas, nor are you in that activity. You're in the business of making business, and you're busy, ever busy, buzzing up real artists like me, lighting on my tossoffs, buzzing flies hoping to gain sustance thereby.

[Gary L.]

Someone forgot their meds again.