HOW TO GET PUBLISHED IN THREE EASY STEPS

***As my faithful readers probably noticed over the past few weeks, I've been in a bit of a drought regarding multimedia events. It's been really hard to top "Whiskey Cat" and "Mustard Shark" so I've been trying a few other stylistic flourishes until the muse strikes again. This week enjoy a unimedia event. I initially wrote this as an entry in a contest for another blog, but it, ah, obviously didn't win. So now I'm posting it here. Enjoy. Or don't, as is your prerogative.***

STEP 1: A JOURNEY OF A THOUSAND MILES…

…Begins with a single death: your mother’s! Always, always, always begin your book with your mother’s death. It’s simple, it’s easy to relate to, and everyone’s experienced it. Your first chapter should start with these words, “Mother died as she was BLANK.” Then all you (the writer) have to do is FILL IN THE BLANK. What could be simpler? Writing chick lit? “Mother died as she was solving a compelling mystery that brought her closer to her multiple female friends.” Writing science fiction? “Mother died as she was gleep-glorping her woozle-wozzle.” I could do this all day, but I won’t. That’s your job now, aspiring authorist!

STEP 2: MERCHANDISING! MERCHANDISING! MERCHANDISING!

Now is the time to start thinking about tie-ins, crossovers, sequels, prequels, advertising revenue, and awards speeches. First, write a speech specifically targeting each of the following: the Emmys, the Oscars, the Grammys, and the Cable Ace Awards. Then, write an all-purpose speech combining the general gist of your last four speeches into one, just in case someone springs a surprise awards ceremony on you. This is the step where you should be considering whether your title rhymes with Mountain Dew (or can be easily inserted into Mountain Dew commercials.) Go Tell It On the Mountain? Clunky, but serviceable. Mountain Stu? Better. Mountain Stu’s Extreme Carbonated Soft Drink-Fueled Adventure Series, Part 1: Maximum Hyperdrive? “Pitch” perfect. (That’s a little advertising humor for you.)

STEP 3: QUERY TILL YOU JUST CAN’T QUERY NO MORE

To write a query letter, use this simple formula: “My name is Barnaby Jones. Stop what you’re doing right now! Put that chicken wing down, fatty, and buy my book! It’s got robots and explosions, it’s about the human condition, it’s got a setting and everything! Patent pending.” Then send it out. Send it out like crazy. Send it to every editor, publisher, agent, bookseller, self-publisher, literary review journal, library, and producer you can find online. Send everything online. Query Amazon. Query Google. If possible, set up a robot who can send queries for you automatically. When you’ve been rejected by someone once, all you have to do is query that same person ten, fifteen, twenty, a million times. He’ll give up the ghost eventually (trust me on this.) Batter down the walls of the publishing industry like a little Dutch boy holding a dike.

That’s it. Problem solved. The end. Step 4? There is no Step 4. Just bask in your own glory. I mean, I guess that’s a step, but it’s kind of implied, too, so you don’t really have to do it. At this point in the process, you can pay other people to bask in your reflected glory. Now get out there and remember: don’t stop believin’.