What's Lower Than Self-Publishing?
Self-Xeroxing.
I got this "book" (a 75-page stapled, badly photocopied pamphlet priced at $25) in the mail this week. It's rife with errors (and even rifer with embarrassing ideas and writing).
"Do I want to mention it in my column?" the guy is wondering. I'm dying to, but I thought I'd spare you the embarrassment, dude.
Hey, post the rest of this! I was enjoying it. (KIDDING!)
Someone charged you 25 dollars for a book that he Xeroxed and stapled together? Or did he just send you a free copy and hope you'd give it some free publicity, since you mention so many books in your column? Crid, stop mailing Amy your books!
Tell him if he wants a book endorsement, he should contact Oprah. I'm sure she'd just love to read it. What some people won't do to get rich. You should let him know his inane natterings are blog fodder and that's the best publicity it will ever get, and more than it deserves.
Patrick at January 25, 2007 2:30 AM
What the hell is a "Trumpet Blast"?
Am I missing something?
Probably not?
Deirdre B. at January 25, 2007 4:43 AM
"What the hell is a "Trumpet Blast"?"
A fart?
Hasan at January 25, 2007 6:37 AM
I believe it's some kind of oral sex.
Amy Alkon at January 25, 2007 6:39 AM
We're dying to know! What is this? Did you actually spend 25 dollars for it?
Ana at January 25, 2007 6:42 AM
> stop mailing Amy your books!
I don't do serifed fonts. It's a masculinity thing.
Crid at January 25, 2007 6:44 AM
Hell, no, Ana. Publishers (professional and not-so-) send me "review copies" in hopes of making it into my column. This was one of them.
Amy Alkon at January 25, 2007 6:59 AM
I have to admit, the first thing that popped into my mind when I saw the words "Self-Xeroxing" was the image of someone's genitalia as immortalized by the office copier. I scrolled down with some hesitancy.
deja pseu at January 25, 2007 7:10 AM
Believe me, I read with some hesitancy, too!
Amy Alkon at January 25, 2007 7:39 AM
Well that's a relief at least you didn't have to pay money for it. Have you been watching American Idol? People are delusional somewhere they forgot to check into reality. It makes for cheap entertainment.
I think we all have some delusion going on but some have more than others and let's not forget the old "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" bit. I'm sure somebody told that poor soul that he had writing talent and to proceed and "publish" his writing.
What was the subject matter?
Ana at January 25, 2007 7:52 AM
There should be a show called American Idiot, for all the people who believe what they get via e-mail and forward it on.
Subject of "book": Giving women orgasms.
Actual effect: Giving reader headaches.
Amy Alkon at January 25, 2007 9:12 AM
Wow, it kind of reads like the manifesto I banged out on my mom's old red-ribboned pico typewriter when I was ten about how humanity should abandon civilization and live amongst the cats. Well, maybe he's still finding his voice.
Paul Hrissikopoulos at January 25, 2007 10:57 AM
This is hilarious. I think the guy should've gone all the way and illustrated his masterpiece.
Little Shiva at January 25, 2007 11:31 AM
The "trumpet blast?" I can't think of a more unappetizing nickname for a sexual act...except maybe rusty trombone.
amh18057 at January 25, 2007 12:11 PM
> the manifesto I banged out on my
> mom's old red-ribboned pico
Still got a copy?
crid at January 25, 2007 12:44 PM
What awful clunky prose...And jeez, the world has enough of these guys who think they're reinventing the wheel with their crazy sexual techniques.
Yep, looks like he's talking about performing oral sex on a woman. Whoa, hold the muthafuckin' phone, a BJ? On a chick? That's like, mind-blowing in its newness. Ladies, imagine a guy performing oral on you, with a technique that could be called 'The Trumpet Blast'...just jumped, didn't you? Then threw up a little in your vagina?
I can just see this guy approaching the bed, TV remote in one hand, PBR in the other, "Baby, I'm Louie Armstrong tonight, are you ready for...The Trumpet Blast?!!"
Hope there're seminars, later.
Cat brother at January 25, 2007 1:52 PM
Now this little book is just nasty! I assume the author's pen name is "Mr. States-the-Obvious." Howver, Amy, think of it this way: free fireplace fodder.
Donna at January 25, 2007 6:42 PM
Unfortunately, I do. When I was in college I discovered that my nosy aunt had apparently found it while snooping around my room one day and stuck it into one of my scrapbooks without my knowledge, clearly to humiliate me until the end of time. Happily, it now resides in a locked vault on the fourth floor of the secure Public Storage facility on the corner of Highland and Santa Monica, tucked away somewhere between a disassembled Paris Gun and the Ark of the Covenant.
Paul Hrissikopoulos at January 25, 2007 7:15 PM
"Learn to type." "Use correct grammar" That's what they said to James Joyce.
From it's idiosyncatic way with punctuation to iits use of impoverished production techniques to comment on the commodification of the book/object, clearly the author is ahead of his time.
Get your heads out of your posteriors, snarketeers, and savor genius a-bornin'!
Earnest Hemmingway at January 26, 2007 12:04 AM
Whoops, meant to say "its" of course in graf 2
Earnest Hemmingway at January 26, 2007 12:07 AM
> Storage facility on the corner
> of Highland and
Big weekend coming up... You got plans for that P-gun? There's this one corner of the Valley that could use a little tidy-up.
Crid at January 26, 2007 4:47 AM
I would have liked illustrations as well, now that would have made it a "comedy".
ana at January 26, 2007 7:27 AM
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