November 1, 2007
Everybody's a Critic...
I knew I'd have trouble finding a publisher for my novel. What I wasn't prepared for was being unable to even find a fucking agent. That's become a risk averse business, there.
Here's why: nobody reads books anymore. 20% of readers are sci-fi. The other 80% are soccer moms looking for predictable beach reading plots. Mystery, thrillers, romance. It doesn't matter how shitty a writer you are. They have junior editors to fix all that shit for you. They just want the predictable plot. Fuck them.
I'm sitting on a brilliant piece of work here, but you'd think I was mailing them black market placentas. Here's the other thing: 75% of agents and editors are women. They all cater to that soccer mom crowd. I believe I disgust them.
Of course, I do have escaped lunatics, bestiality, and gratuitous homosexuality in this thing. So maybe, just maybe, I'm an acquired taste. But these women all have Victorian Era romance dildos up their collective asses. Hell, I thought this book would turn their stymied libidos on. It certainly turned me on. Of course, a nice, smooth shit will do that, so I might be a subjective demographic.
To hell with them all. I'm rewriting it as a screenplay. Then I'm going to make an indie film and pimp it at the festivals. The fact I have no goddamn idea how to make a film I consider a plus. Look at the professionals: they're losing their balls at the box office. So I'm thinking a fresh approach just might be the ticket to immortality immolation.
Don't be surprised if you see a Paypal button or tipjar up soon. I'll need seed money. Even authentic escaped lunatics want to be fed 2 or 3 times a day. I understand they crave liquor, too.
I'll probably just shoot it in black & white 16mm, like a good old fashioned porn flick.
P.S., Insipids. They are a few hetero porn scenes here, and I'm looking for an enthusiastic unknown. What we call in the business a Generic Gulper. Consider the casting couch open for bidness.
I gots a idea.
Posted by: Peggy U at November 2, 2007 1:37 AMum... good luck with that.
Posted by: Jean at November 2, 2007 2:52 AM... they just dont see your Greatness, bro..... give them time....
Posted by: Eric at November 2, 2007 9:21 AMYou just have to keep plugging away at it. At least that's what I'm told. You might try doing some short stories and submitting to the journals to get some more exposure first. You've got all that great "Senator" material. Agents are sometimes harder to find than publishers. And they tend to be specialists. I loved your novel...still waiting to find out how it turns out, though.
Don't give up!
Posted by: Rosie at November 2, 2007 11:00 AMVeester
For the world to beat a path to your book, you have only to remember these 7 words: female ejaculation.
Posted by: Not James Hooker at November 2, 2007 11:52 AMKeep sending out packages. Most publishers won't look at you without an agent. They're the screeners. It's a toughg road to hoe if you don't know anybody, but honestly, I think selling a screenplay is even harder. I would stick with the book route.
Here's an idea: why don't you pre-sell copies to your readers via the blog. If you have a significant number of commitments to buy the book before it's published, that could help get you an agent and into a contract with a publisher. I know I'd pre-pay for a novel written by you, weird sex or not.
Posted by: rob sama at November 2, 2007 11:56 AMPull your favorite books down off the shelf and read the acknowledgements. Extract the names of the agents for each of those authors, and send your manuscript to them.
Posted by: Omnibus Driver at November 2, 2007 3:12 PMBet most of his favorite authors AND their agents are daid.
Posted by: Joan of Argghh! at November 2, 2007 6:05 PMRelax. You'll be terribly famous once you die.
The question is who will be the one to sup on your largesse.
You think you disgust them? Gots news for you brah. T'aint no think to it. Hopefully yer not sending out headshots with the manuscripts. And stay away from the full body poses as well. Nobody responds well to the chicken-legged, pot-bellied, Biafran thing, either. Gnarly, sez me.
Posted by: bitterman at November 2, 2007 8:04 PMOh yea. Drink more. LOTS more. Seems like the closer you are to exploring the edges of liver failure, the more likely you are to get picked up. There's a risk assessment to be performed there. Probably nail it tight in terms of statistically how close to death you have to be off a bottle of Maker's as to how fast your book generates a buzz. It's how Faulkner did it. Swear to God....
Posted by: bitterman at November 2, 2007 8:07 PMI got 2 dogs with great big dicks. Can they be in the movie?
Posted by: RedNeck at November 2, 2007 10:09 PMDon't take it personally. Harper Lee probably couldn't get an agent today on a cold call.
Posted by: Libby at November 3, 2007 1:45 PMYea Redneck, I'm thinking about surgery to remove one of 'em.......nah......I'm havin' too much fun.
Posted by: 2dogs at November 6, 2007 9:56 AMIf you're gonna make it like a porn flick you'll need to give Catfish a part in it.
Posted by: Denny at November 7, 2007 12:24 PM