The literary world seems to be divided. One small outdated lot, can you believe it, thinks a book isn’t a product. The other bigger, better, with-it lot, which I’m part of, says, hell, yeah, it’s a product! Some of our incontrovertible arguments:
“Yeah, so if your book is not a product, why are you selling it, then, huh?”
“You’re jealous our books sell more.”
“Want to arm wrestle?”
And as a trump card, I have my all-purpose, go-to placard – guaranteed to silence any opposition – that I pop out as and when required.
Success = Sale.
Sale = Fame.
Fame = Money.
Money Wins!
QED.
But here’s why my book is a product. In fact, not just a product but several nifty products rolled into one.
Ego enhancer
Whenever I’m feeling down like, say, when my wife renews her restraining order against me, I pick up my book. My unsold copies and loaded gun are always within easy reach on my bedside table. I run with it to my balcony and yell out “Any of you morons ever written a book? Huh? Huh?” at random passers-by. Usually, no one replies. As I look at the open-mouthed crowd on the road, a glow of superiority engulfs me. I stick my tongue out at them, go in and put the safety back on my gun.
Entry ticket
Not everyone can go to all the places they want to. But with a book in your hand, ha, things are different. For instance, recently, there was this fashion show of lingerie by plus-sized models. The organisers had forgotten to send me an invite. Oversight, obviously. That’s when my book came in handy. I waved it about in front of the bouncers and yelled “Do you know who I am?” repeatedly till they let me in. My wife tells me she bribed them but I don’t think that’s true. She’s jealous of me like everyone else. The show itself was a bit of a disappointment. It was sponsored by a hospital and the models were all men – catwalking their way to gastric bypass procedures.
Facebook cover picture
On account of the long hours of hunching over comps all day and thinking up new plots, mostly about how to sell their next few copies, writers are – how shall I put it? – not in the best physical shape. Double chins and spare tyres are as much an occupational hazard as depression and megalomania. That’s when the jacket design of your book comes in handy. When that Photoshopped pic from your college days has been up for so long the digital corners are getting frayed, your jacket design is a failproof option on your FB page.
IQ improver
You have to read a thousand books to be considered intelligent. Or write one book. Being a published author has the combined effect of a PhD, a bald head, horn-rimmed glasses and elbow patches on your blazer on your perceived intellect. The other day, I saw Jignesh Prem Babu, author of Bikini Bahu and Love Came After She Died lecturing to a group of senior scientists on how they can sex up their research.
Focus grabber
Wherever you are, whatever the occasion, whichever the topic under discussion, there is a magic question that can make it all about you: Do you like books? Can you imagine anyone actually replying in the negative to that one? The most illiterate person, whose reading material so far has been menu cards and court summons, wouldn’t dare. From then on, it’s open season for you. Starting with how you first considered becoming a writer when your Class 4 teacher said you had good handwriting, you can hold your audience in thrall for the rest of the evening.
Opposite sex magnet
We’ve already dealt with why writers aren’t the most ideal specimens of human beauty. But let me tell you, even if you look like the illegitimate offspring of Ernest Borgnine and Lalita Pawar, having your own book is like making an equal parts mixture of Axe Deospray, Spanish Fly and Kayakalpam and giving it to members of the opposite sex. Not too long ago, when my book came out, I got female undergarments in the mail. My wife was so jealous. That they were granny panties and came with a note that said they needed to be dry cleaned and returned within the week is a technicality.
Jealousy inducer
“Just got myself a new BMW.” “My fiancée is a supermodel.” “My great-uncle died and willed me his Madras Club membership.” Any or all of these brags can be countered with a simple “Look, sucker, here’s my book.” Watch that BMW crash into the supermodel who was having a creepy affair with the great-uncle who was blackballed just before he died in one fell swoop.
Free booze pass
One of the greatest uses of the book is the free alcohol it gives you access to. And I’m not talking just lit fests. Put it on a bar counter, wave it about, or talk about it nonstop for maximum effect. I have used my book like a blunt instrument to wheedle drinks out the most parsimonious of academics, socialites, bartenders and nuns. If they are not impressed by it at first, they will want to get rid of you at any cost soon enough. Don’t leave home without it.
Follower enticer
Every writer is de facto a leader. After all, in a world where emoticons, unintelligible combinations of consonants and numbers, grunts and finger gestures make up most communication, a writer actually put words in semi-coherent sequence and filled up pages with them to make a book. And what are leaders without followers? On Twitter, Facebook and on your evening constitutional in the park where you are considering a furtive wee-wee in the bushes, a book ensures you’re being followed. Print your cover design on the front and back of your tee for maximum enticement.
Author repellant
Most authors are terrible company, and having them in your vicinity is a genuine energy drain. There is nothing in the world that repels an author more than a book written by someone else. If you’ve written a book and display it conspicuously enough, rest assured, it is like an impenetrable electromagnetic field, and no writer worth his hardcover edition will come near lit-fest-mic distance of you.
Krishna Shastri Devulapalli’s latest ten-in-one paper product that has come out of an assembly line but looks and behaves alarmingly like a book, How To Be A Literary Sensation: A Quick Guide to Exploiting Friends, Family & Facebook for Financial Gain, is out in Nov 2015.
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“Yeah, so if your book is not a product, why are you selling it, then, huh?”
“You’re jealous our books sell more.”
“Want to arm wrestle?”
And as a trump card, I have my all-purpose, go-to placard – guaranteed to silence any opposition – that I pop out as and when required.
Success = Sale.
Sale = Fame.
Fame = Money.
Money Wins!
QED.
But here’s why my book is a product. In fact, not just a product but several nifty products rolled into one.
Ego enhancer
Whenever I’m feeling down like, say, when my wife renews her restraining order against me, I pick up my book. My unsold copies and loaded gun are always within easy reach on my bedside table. I run with it to my balcony and yell out “Any of you morons ever written a book? Huh? Huh?” at random passers-by. Usually, no one replies. As I look at the open-mouthed crowd on the road, a glow of superiority engulfs me. I stick my tongue out at them, go in and put the safety back on my gun.
Entry ticket
Not everyone can go to all the places they want to. But with a book in your hand, ha, things are different. For instance, recently, there was this fashion show of lingerie by plus-sized models. The organisers had forgotten to send me an invite. Oversight, obviously. That’s when my book came in handy. I waved it about in front of the bouncers and yelled “Do you know who I am?” repeatedly till they let me in. My wife tells me she bribed them but I don’t think that’s true. She’s jealous of me like everyone else. The show itself was a bit of a disappointment. It was sponsored by a hospital and the models were all men – catwalking their way to gastric bypass procedures.
Facebook cover picture
On account of the long hours of hunching over comps all day and thinking up new plots, mostly about how to sell their next few copies, writers are – how shall I put it? – not in the best physical shape. Double chins and spare tyres are as much an occupational hazard as depression and megalomania. That’s when the jacket design of your book comes in handy. When that Photoshopped pic from your college days has been up for so long the digital corners are getting frayed, your jacket design is a failproof option on your FB page.
IQ improver
You have to read a thousand books to be considered intelligent. Or write one book. Being a published author has the combined effect of a PhD, a bald head, horn-rimmed glasses and elbow patches on your blazer on your perceived intellect. The other day, I saw Jignesh Prem Babu, author of Bikini Bahu and Love Came After She Died lecturing to a group of senior scientists on how they can sex up their research.
Focus grabber
Wherever you are, whatever the occasion, whichever the topic under discussion, there is a magic question that can make it all about you: Do you like books? Can you imagine anyone actually replying in the negative to that one? The most illiterate person, whose reading material so far has been menu cards and court summons, wouldn’t dare. From then on, it’s open season for you. Starting with how you first considered becoming a writer when your Class 4 teacher said you had good handwriting, you can hold your audience in thrall for the rest of the evening.
Opposite sex magnet
We’ve already dealt with why writers aren’t the most ideal specimens of human beauty. But let me tell you, even if you look like the illegitimate offspring of Ernest Borgnine and Lalita Pawar, having your own book is like making an equal parts mixture of Axe Deospray, Spanish Fly and Kayakalpam and giving it to members of the opposite sex. Not too long ago, when my book came out, I got female undergarments in the mail. My wife was so jealous. That they were granny panties and came with a note that said they needed to be dry cleaned and returned within the week is a technicality.
Jealousy inducer
“Just got myself a new BMW.” “My fiancée is a supermodel.” “My great-uncle died and willed me his Madras Club membership.” Any or all of these brags can be countered with a simple “Look, sucker, here’s my book.” Watch that BMW crash into the supermodel who was having a creepy affair with the great-uncle who was blackballed just before he died in one fell swoop.
Free booze pass
One of the greatest uses of the book is the free alcohol it gives you access to. And I’m not talking just lit fests. Put it on a bar counter, wave it about, or talk about it nonstop for maximum effect. I have used my book like a blunt instrument to wheedle drinks out the most parsimonious of academics, socialites, bartenders and nuns. If they are not impressed by it at first, they will want to get rid of you at any cost soon enough. Don’t leave home without it.
Follower enticer
Every writer is de facto a leader. After all, in a world where emoticons, unintelligible combinations of consonants and numbers, grunts and finger gestures make up most communication, a writer actually put words in semi-coherent sequence and filled up pages with them to make a book. And what are leaders without followers? On Twitter, Facebook and on your evening constitutional in the park where you are considering a furtive wee-wee in the bushes, a book ensures you’re being followed. Print your cover design on the front and back of your tee for maximum enticement.
Author repellant
Most authors are terrible company, and having them in your vicinity is a genuine energy drain. There is nothing in the world that repels an author more than a book written by someone else. If you’ve written a book and display it conspicuously enough, rest assured, it is like an impenetrable electromagnetic field, and no writer worth his hardcover edition will come near lit-fest-mic distance of you.
Krishna Shastri Devulapalli’s latest ten-in-one paper product that has come out of an assembly line but looks and behaves alarmingly like a book, How To Be A Literary Sensation: A Quick Guide to Exploiting Friends, Family & Facebook for Financial Gain, is out in Nov 2015.
