Wednesday, 23 January 2013
Mustering the cerebral monkey troop
As my current book travels (in faith) towards its concluding stages (again) I am still mulling over the dilemma of unsold copies of my former masterpiece (oh yes, if you read it you would see! - my marketing ploy if nothing else) After the Rains, which is languishing, at some expense in a warehouse in Leicester. You see unless you have a big publisher behind you maniacally marketing the thing, you have to get out and sell the blasted product yourself. Imagine a shelf of fifty thousand boxes of peanuts. Which one are you going to buy? The one with the best box or cover? Shopper, you will be tripping on covers, in both senses - there are 50 000 of them and some of them are lurid and have no bearing on the actual peanuts inside. No you are going to buy your peanuts from the man (or woman) dressed up as a giant monkey who is hanging upside down from an unstable light fitting, making ghastly chimp noises and scratching the armpits of his (or her) mouldy monkey costume, bearing the name of his (or her) product.
More on this monkey business tomorrow. I have a serious book to whose wrongs I must write.