American Male Prostitute
How I shamelessly promoted my novel with sex, lies, and deceit.
A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss
Available in all good bookstores and Online by September 2010.
Stuart Martin Berry has only three months left to find a publisher for his first novel. In a desperate attempt to reach his goal he leaves his home to live in New York. His wife has given him free reins to do whatever it takes to get a book deal. Her only request was not to give her any details on how he got there. If he fails he will be forced to give up his dream of being a famous writer and take a regular forty hour a week job. For Stuart this is sufficient motivation to start a three month adventure full of sex, lies, and deceit, without losing focus of the ultimate goal. When he finally reaches the finish line, he has evolved and become a top expert in the publishing world.
The idea for American Male Prostitute came after reading my favorite, most useless magazine, Writer’s Digest. Well, it is not totally useless, since it provided me with enough information to learn about the bizarre world of book publishing. Just the other day, I found yet another advertisement that made my blood broil, and I was ready to get my hands on that computer keyboard and add a flaming entry to my blog. Maybe, I thought, I’ll make this a series and share my experiences with every new, aspiring author.
To put it in a nut-shell, today’s publishing world is a shark tank. There is a great number of sharks out there, circling the waters, prying on the vast number of wannabe-authors who will never have a chance to sell their work, but are nevertheless naive enough to spend their money with useless services. It is a shame that a magazine such as Writer’s Digest is in the business to support these dubious businesses.
Through my research I found that the market for nonfiction on writing and publishing is cluttered ad nauseam. The majority of these works are – excuse my French – full of crap. Then I remembered the saying “Don’t anger me or I will write a novel about you”, and that is what I am currently doing. There is no better weapon than writing a novel about the industry. They deserve it.
Excerpt (Unedited version)
My name is Stuart Martin Berry, and until last week I was an editor for one of the largest magazines dedicated to the dreamworld of writers and poets. Like many of my ex-colleagues, I am also a failed novelist. My first and so far last novel never made it into publication. That was almost two years ago, and, with my pregnant wife pressing me to get a job that actually created an income, I considered my writing career as being over and done with.
For a short while after my failure, literary agents, snobby bastards that they are, treated me like I was the carrier of a deadly disease. But they started kissing up to me as soon as I got my job as editor for the above mentioned magazine. Until then, during an intense three month period of shamelessly promoting my book, I had learned my lesson on effective bull-shitting. Suddenly, if you believe my job description, I was not a failed novelist, but an accomplished author, who had decided to share his knowledge with the aspiring writer, to provide advice and inspiration. These days you see my photo in various publications, printed or Online, identifying me as a top expert on all aspects of fiction writing. My job included, among many other things, writing about writing without being allowed to actually write something substantial like, let’s say, a novel.
Another essential part of my work as an editor was to maintain a dreamworld for the tens of thousands of wannabe-writers who made the mistake to subscribe to our magazine or the even more useless Online forum. You see, a writers’ magazine cannot exist without the vast number of illusional writers who will never have the slightest chance of ever being published. In order to have your book published you need to be good and, as I was told from day one, the vast majority of our subscribers weren’t. I was also directed to keep the information in my articles at a fairly superficial level, and for God’s sake not to write anything that might interfere with the business of the sharks who paid good money for advertisement in our magazine. That wasn’t difficult for me. As I said, bull-shitting was one of my acquired talents.
Well, the bull-shitting time is finally over, and, honestly, I hated every single day. Deep in my soul I am an honest guy. Unfortunately, honesty doesn’t pay the bills.
Fortunately, though, about four weeks ago, my wife Sophie had accepted a job offer for a $150,000 annual salary plus benefits, and I had offered to be a stay-at-home Dad. Our daughter Magda is now almost two years old, and my wife was itching to get back to her former job as the manager of the Human Resources department of a major insurance company based in Washington, D.C.
I have not yet decided what I will do during the copious spare time between play-group-mornings and afternoon walks in the park. Llysha, another aspiring author and good friend of mine, had jokingly suggested to start our own publishing business, and she touted BBS, Inc. as the business name. BBS stands for “Baffle me with your Bull-Shit”, and, believe me, the name alone was a guarantee for success in the publishing industry.
To stay with the truth, I am done with writing. I am with Groucho Marx who once said, “I don’t care to belong to any club that will have me as a member.” Nevertheless, I am burning to take a final hit at the system. It deserves it.
While we’re at it, my name is not Stuart Martin Berry, and events and names have been changed to protect my family, especially my wife. I will tell you about the weirdest three months of my life, during which I tried to find a publisher for my book. My wife had given me totally free reins to do whatever it would take to get a book deal. Her only request was not to share any details of how I got there.
