I fear getting my books sold is about as easy as scoring a seat at the table for the Last Supper. I will be drumming up some publicity for my upcoming 'Silver Studs and Sabre Teeth' at my local town's Arts & Culture Fair in a few weeks. I've been invited to read from the manuscript. This will apparently be of great interest to the local literati to see a local author read from some paper, whilst the actual novel is in the process of having its cover art designed before it actually goes to print. I told the fair's organiser the first chapter has some swear words, and that in the interests of prudence I will skate over them (there will be children at the fair). I will not bleep them out at the official launch. I later remembered part of the first chapter takes part in a massage parlour, where my protagonist is indulging in a good old rub'n'tug. So I guess the second chapter might be a better idea.
Anyhoo, I will soon be organising a launch for 'Silver Studs and Sabre Teeth'. The title is a reference to the song 'Metal Guru' by T-Rex. It's not a direct quote because I can't afford to pay the estate of Marc Bolan royalties. I wish I could afford it, but alas, cannot. The more I see what people are doing for publicity to get their work noticed, the more my will to live evaporates. I used to joke that I would enter the launches of my other books a la Madonna, the biggest publicity whore out there. I would come in on a crucifix with a crown of thorns tangled up in my cascade of auburn locks, and then 'pretend' not to understand why everybody is pissed off at me. I can also show everyone my bum like Madge did in a concert ('Look at me everyone! Aren't I controversial?' - pfffft!). Everyone in the library will be beside themselves with delight when I pull down my jeans and show off my backside. It's a fair bet the launch will be held at my local library, but I'm not sure I'll be invited back after that. Now Madge has to contend with a new kid on the block, aka Miley Cyrus. Yes, I will enter the launch naked, sitting on a wrecking ball. Now, I could be wrong on this, but surely sitting naked on a wrecking ball is a contravention of OH&S regulations? I will then fellate a mallet in front of every one, like she did in that ludicrous film clip. I'm damned if I know what the song's about; everyone's talking about the bloody antics in the clip. I have a theory about this: the antics are to disguise the lugubrious fact that the song's probably total shit. And then, after completely grossing everyone out with my hail damage as I swing by on the wrecking ball, naked as the day I entered this crazy world (and possibly wiping out a few people as the ball makes its trajectory through the crowd), I just might don a flesh coloured bikini and after reading the first chapter (the brilliance of which will be lost on the crowd because they'll all be sitting there looking like they've posed for 'The Scream'), will boldly twerk the local denizen I will be inviting to 'officially launch' the book. Honestly, that bloody film clip - pathetic or what? Who the fuck fellates mallets?
Well, I'm having my shower and then settling in to watch 'Q&A'. I wonder will there be any reference to Abbott's latest trick of not telling the media about boat arrivals? Did anyone else see the immigration minister's discombobulated mish-mash of a speech, flanked by someone from the armed forces in an attempt to make it all serious? All I could think was, 'If you can't dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bullshit.'
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