jointstereotype: Hey.

rygar: Hey.

rygar: Where the hell have you been?

jointstereotype: Working on my new book.

rygar: Can that really be classified as "work"?

jointstereotype: Don't start with the writer-bashing.

rygar: I'm just saying. You're sitting at the computer for half the day, or you're laying sprawled by the pool taking "notes" on bikini lines for your next novel. That's not work work.

jointstereotype: It's no different than having an office job.

rygar: Except you set your own hours.

rygar: And you only have to shower on those pesky days when you need to go to the stationery store or the post office.

jointstereotype: I actually don't mind showering on a regular basis. You should try it, too. And writing is work. Composing, revising, polishing, submitting, getting that first novel done, fending off family and friends who would rather you have done anything else with your life...it's work, my friend.

rygar: Social exile. That I understand.

jointstereotype: As Kurt Vonnegut once said, "If you really want to hurt your parents and you don't have nerve enough to be homosexual, the least you can do is go into the arts."

rygar: Hmm. If you were gay, you'd probably have more friends. And a better body. And more money. And—

jointstereotype: Enough. Cheer me up anymore and I'm going to drop dead.

rygar: So, what's this book of yours called?

jointstereotype: Heroes' Day. It'll be on Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble and all that next month, God willing.

rygar: Dude, you did not just plug your new book via instant message.

jointstereotype: Of course not. That would mean the end of the world.

rygar: If you'd dropped the link to your book's storefront I would have banned your ass.

jointstereotype: You see, then, what I mean when I say writing is work? If a writer even mentions his books, he's automatically herded into the shameless self-promoters' group, the people who wave their product in your face and shout, "Buy my book! Buy my book! The sooner you order, the sooner you can post a glowing review on my Amazon.com page! Buy two! One for your friend, the other for you!"

rygar: Well, that's true—but only because so many authors do just that. It's like, "Fuck off, I'll buy your book when I need a piece of kindling."

jointstereotype: But you see what I'm up against? As a writer I'm automatically full of myself—and I don't come with a money-back guarantee.

rygar: No worries. You just have to work the right angle. Are there any naked chicks in Heroes' Day?

jointstereotype: No.

rygar: Is there any sex?

jointstereotype: No...and even if there was, it would be counterproductive since there are no naked women.

rygar: You could always do a rewrite.

jointstereotype: The book has nothing to do with naked chicks having sex.

rygar: OK, so the material alone is unsaleable. We move on to Plan B.

jointstereotype: Which is...?

rygar: The Buzz. We sign you up for two-dozen fake MySpace accounts to kick-start your fan-base. These "phanboys / phangirls", as I like to call them (short for "phantom-boys / phantom-girls"), will post comments on your profile and blog pages. They'll rave about how good your books are. They'll say how much fun they had hanging out with you at Hooters. But we have to be clever about it. Make everything a casual conversation. We must become our little phanboys and phangirls!

jointstereotype: :(

jointstereotype: Screw it. I'll just do the rewrite.

"Text Message" #2008-06-28 © 2008 Jesse Gordon