Read the Fine Print Whenever Ms. Donnelly is Involved.
Happy Friday, 3.5 Readers.
Bookshelf Q. Battler here.
Among my many roles as Blogger-in-Chief of a blog read by 3.5 readers, I’m the boss of Pop Culture Detective Jake Hatcher, a hardboiled 1950’s private eye who sniffs out the answers to my questions about Hollywood and the entertainment industry.
Jake and I have never met in person. Rather, I prefer to dispatch all my inquiries through Attorney Delilah K. Donnelly, Lead Counsel for the Bookshelf Battle Blog.
It’s kind of a Charlie’s Angels situation. I ask the questions. Delilah delivers them. Jake hunts down the answers. By keeping Delilah as a buffer, I’m able to retain Jake’s services and he’s not able to strangle me until I spill the beans to the secrets I’m keeping from him:
How did he fall asleep in 1955 and wake up in 2014 and more importantly, how can he get back to his own time?
Yes, I can help him with both questions, but I’m stringing him along until he’s solved 100 cases.
Feel free to thank me, 3.5 readers. Sure, many bloggers put in a lot of work for their fans, but few are willing to extort a 1950s private investigator for your reading pleasure.
He’s gotten a bit carried away lately. He’s starting writing down recollections of his adventures of a gumshoe. I think they’re all interesting and worth sharing.
Two of his ideas in particular I hope to turn into self-published books, the profits of which I’ll keep because, you know, when Attorney Donnelly hands you a contract, you’d better read the fine print before signing.
Sorry Jake.
Anyway, the core concepts of this series:
1) I have questions about popular culture.
2) Referring to those questions as, “Pop Culture Mysteries” is funny.
3) A 1950’s hard-boiled film noir style detective complete with trench coat and fedora tracking explaining the answers to these questions in traditional/stereotypical noir style (i.e. longwinded exaggeration and lots of ridiculous comparisons) is funnier.
Planning of novels set in Jake’s world are underway, but before the noble trio of Jake, Delilah, and myself do anything, we need to get a few more Pop Culture Mystery Questions answered and into the can.
Jake needs a fan base before he writes a couple of novels. Otherwise, who’d buy them?
And how could I cut Jake out of the deal and use that sweet, sweet Amazon moolah to buy myself a Porsche?
Ah, don’t worry, 3.5 readers.
Behind that ice queen exterior, Attorney Donnelly often serves as the moral compass of this blog.
I’m sure she’ll twist my arm and convince me to share some of those book profits with our resident sleuth.
(I’ll need to keep some of it though just to pay Delilah’s latest legal bill though. Sheesh! Talk about billable hours!)
Don’t worry. Jake will get back to regaling you all with The Wrong Guy, the story about how he tracked down the killer of his buddy Lou the liquor store owner.
But first, I need to put him on a more pressing case:
The Nicki Minaj Video Music Award (VMA) Snub – Does Her Complaint Have Merit?
Before Jake pounds the pavement on the trail of this caper, I’d like to take an informal poll:
What say you, 3.5 readers? Is Nicki right? Did she lose out because, as she tweeted, only certain “kinds” of artists get recognized? Or, you know, should she just take all the money she made off of Anaconda and be happy?
Sour grapes or a star treated badly?
And what do you think about Taylor Swift and Katy Perry jumping into the fracas?
Not when you’re as big a fan of that holiday as I am.
And not when you’ve got a big idea in mind.
Today, my main squeeze Video Game Rack Fighter and I took a walk, did some shopping, and we stopped by a fortune teller who’d set up shop and was predicting futures at five bucks a pop.
VGRF talked me into it and, much to my shock, this mysterious gypsy lady with a kiosk next to the Orange Julius stand at the East Random Town Mall prognosticated the following:
That on October 1 of this year:
VGRF, Alien Jones, myself, and possibly The Yeti will take in a scientific demonstration by my mentor, the esteemed Dr. Hugo Von Science.
That Dr. Hugo, through his gross incompetence, will botch his experiment, thus causing a zombie outbreak to sweep over my hometown.
VGRF, Alien Jones, and myself will be left with no choice but to fight our way through the undead hordes until we reach the safety of the Bookshelf Battle Compound.
Perhaps we’ll even come up a cure for the zombie epidemic in the process.
But to get through this, we will need the assistance of 31, count em, 31 Zombie Authors.
ALIEN JONES: Zombie authors?! That’s ridiculous! They can’t even hold a pen.
BQB: No, I mean authors who have written self-published books about zombies. Though, hey, if there’s an actual function zombie who is an author, I’ll gladly talk to him as long as he promises not to bite me.
Every day, as a new part of the story unfolds, a self published zombie author will take a question from a member of our merry band of unlikely heroes.
Questions will mostly come from me, but Alien Jones and/or possibly the Yeti might have some inquiries. Maybe even Dr. Hugo will participate.
I’ve also heard rumors of this thing called “Women’s Lib” so hell, Video Game Rack Fighter will have some questions too.
Examples:
DAY 1 – We need some supplies. Author Fred Fredman of Super Scary Zombie Book, can you tell us the essentials of what a zombie apocalypse survivor needs to fend off the undead masses?
DAY 2 – The Yeti was just bitten by a zombie. Author Kate Katerson of Incredibly Frightening Zombie Book, do you know if zombie bites affect animals?
DAY 3 – We’re holed up in an abandoned shack and the TV’s working. Author Annie Annerson of You’ll Crap Your Pants if You Read this Zombie Book! Which zombie movie do you recommend we watch to pass the time and why?
I don’t know. Just some initial questions off the top of my head.
Heck, you non-horror authors could get in on this too. Submit questions you’d like to know about how to survive the zombie apocalypse and maybe one of the members of our survivor party will pass it along to an interested zombie author.
ANTICIPATED QUESTIONS ABOUT THIS IDEA:
1) Just self-published horror authors?
Not necessarily. If you’re a traditionally published zombie author, I’d love for you to participate as well. If you have a zombie blog or are some other kind of zombie writer, let’s talk.
Hell, if you’re George Romero, you can just take the blog over.
2) You do a lot of interactivity on this blog. Why a story? Why not just a straight-up interview?
In today’s rapid information age, anything fun is going to be checked out more than a traditional approach.
Take all the late night talk shows these days.
Long ago, all the stars would just sit on the couch and shoot the bull with Johnny and Ed. It was boring as hell.
We love stars but their stories about their acting method or the lunch they ate that gave them a tummy ache or whatever? Who cares.
Jimmy Fallon does hilarious bits with his guests instead. Be honest. Do you want to listen to Scar Jo babble about how hard it was to pretend to be whoever she just pretended to be, or do you want to see her play a rousing game of “Box of Lies” with Jimmy?
NBC – Box of Lies – The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon
I loved that. There you go. Scar Jo’s latest movie promoted. I’m left thinking she’s a ball of fun and I wasn’t bored with a story about her acting process.
“Let’s Promote Ourselves with Fun” is what I’ve been going for with Alien Jones’ “Ask the Alien” Column, and that’s what I’m going for with this idea as well.
3) So what are you looking for?
Your choice of length to an answer posed by myself or one of my buddies. I’d say 500 words or so sounds decent, but more if you’re willing.
We could come to an agreement on what question would be best for you. If you have one in mind you want to be asked, that’s possible.
4) Are you going to make me look stupid?
Your books, blogs, reputation as a writer, they’re all important to you, as they should be. I fully understand. Hell, I’ve put so much work into my persona as”Bookshelf Q. Battler,” I’d be unhappy if someone besmirched BQB.
I’d envision the post with:
A) A quick synopsis of what happened today (day of post) with BQB’s friends vs. the zombies.
B) A quick overview of you, the author, including links to your books and or blogs and or Amazon page (or wherever you’re selling them)
C) An answer YOU WRITE that I’m not going to change. They’ll be your words, so you can’t go wrong.
5) I’m still skeptical.
I don’t blame you. I’m a guy claiming to own a magic bookshelf and also that I’m an alien’s friend. It’s understandable that you’d want to kick the tires on this one.
To that end:
A) Alien Jones has had 17 satisfied customers in his Ask the Alien column so far. I’ve never received a complaint from an author who participated yet. Usually they’re pleased enough that they retweet or share AJ’s witty commentary on their own blogs.
B) Alien Jones has a “Don’t Like it and It Gets Taken Down No Problem Guarantee.” If it turns out you don’t like the post, let me know, and it’ll come down. If we can fix it to your liking, that’s great. If not, no hard feelings. I get that writing is a business and you have to do what you have to do. No muss, no fuss, no problem.
But luckily, no author has asked for that yet. And I believe that’s a sign that when you take part in this, you’re in good hands with me and my alien.
6) Keep talking.
At present, I have 1,250 (approx) WordPress followers, 5,400 Twitter followers, and over 500 Google Plus followers. All will be notified of your awesomeness.
7) I’m not one of your 3.5 readers, so I’m not up to speed on your blog and therefore unsure if I could respond to one of your friends’ questions.
No problem. Here’s the lowdown:
Bookshelf Q. Battler = the owner of a magic bookshelf where small versions of literary characters come to life and fight over limited shelf space.
Video Game Rack Fighter = Bookshelf Q. Battler’s girlfriend and author of a video game review column hopefully coming soon, if she ever comes up for air from playing Arkham Knight.
Alien Jones – The Mighty Potentate, ruler of an undisclosed planet, is displeased with the growing popularity of reality television. He’s a fan of scripted media and feels promotion of fiction authors is the only hope to stem the reality tv tide. To that end, the MP has dispatched his emissary, Alien Jones, to answer questions from self-published authors and in the process, make Earth a smarter place one question at a time. Alien Jones truly believes in this mission, and isn’t doing it just because the Mighty Potentate has threatened to vaporize him if he abandons his assignment before BQB’s writing career is off the ground.
The Yeti – An international war criminal and fuzzy snow monster, The Yeti is currently imprisoned deep in the bowels of the Bookshelf Battle Compound. However, BQB isn’t completely heartless and allows the big lug out once a week to watch Scandal. Alien Jones brings the bean dip.
Dr. Hugo Von Science – A distinguished professor of science at Science University, Dr. Hugo is this blog’s science correspondent and holds patents on over a bazillion inventions. We’re fairly certain he might be plotting a global conquest in his spare time, but his generally goodnatured demeanor covers up his underlying intentions well.
There you go. That’s the blog in a nutshell. It’s a labor of love for me, and it’s enjoyed daily by 3.5 people, one of whom is my Aunt Gertrude.
(There are some subsidiary, occasional characters. Uncle Hardass, the ghost of my grumpy uncle, shows up once in awhile to tell me to give up all of my hopes and dreams of becoming a writer and get a job at the salt mines. The Funky Hunks are a rap group I used to belong to and they show up now and then too. Oh, and a whole slew of tiny book characters live on my magic bookshelf).
Don’t get me started on Bookshelf Q. Battledog.
I don’t believe the subsidiaries will get involved but you never know. 31 days means I need to come up with a lot of ideas to keep a story going.
8) You had me until you said you have 3.5 readers. Doesn’t seem worth it.
“3.5 Readers” is an ongoing, inside joke for this blog. In the beginning, I really did only have 3.5 readers. But I pressed forward and now I have more. Like any blog, I have up days and down days. I’d say on a good day I get anywhere around 30-70 hits.
Views are often double, sometimes triple, the hit count and I believe this is because people who do find this blog like it enough to stick around and read some more.
At any rate, I’ll do what I can to make this a fun, month long Zombie fiesta. On my own, I’m going to be writing about The Walking Dead and the new Fear the Walking Dead and overall, if this works out, it’s just going to be 31 days of zombies.
9) What’s in it for you?
Cross promotion, basically. If you enjoy what you see here, I hope you’ll do want you can to point folks to my ramblings. Not required, of course. That’s about it.
10) So now what?
At this point, I’d just like to get the ball rolling. I’m starting early because to recruit 31 people to respond to a daily ongoing story is going to be like herding cats.
Right now, I’d just like to see who’s interested enough to let me know. If you want in, Tweet me @bookshelfbattle or tell me in the comments here.
You can send me a private message on Twitter too. Just tweet me to let me know you sent it so it doesn’t get lost in the mass of spam I get from folks trying to sell me timeshares, miracle ointments, and **Cough cough*** self published books.
I’d say by mid-August, if I can wrangle enough authors to be interested in this, then I’ll be able to see who’s who, what’s what and come up with better questions that would apply to various authors.
If it’s a go, I’d like to get questions to you late August, or September and have 31 posts in the can by the time October rolls around.
But then again, this could be a dumb idea.
If it fizzles out and goes nowhere, then hey, I tried. You’ve got to try, right?
Feel free to share with anyone you think would be interested. If I see enough interest, I’ll start getting in touch with folks with formal instructions at the end of the summer.
Leave me your thoughts, 3.5.
Until next time, this has been Bookshelf Q. Battler and Video Game Rack Fighter, signing off:
Before he became BQB’s Pop Culture Detective, Jake Hatcher was a down and out boxer forced by the evil Mugsy McGillicuddy to take a dive, thus tanking his chance at the big time, not to mention his budding romance with singer Peaches LeMay.
When Jake tries to escape his past by enlisting, he gets a second chance at the greatness he missed out on when he’s recruited by General George S. Patton, President Roosevelt, and Pre-CIA Agent Carmichael to take on the most daring mission in the history of warfare:
Infiltrate Das Fuhrerbunker and punch Adolf Hitler in the face before an equally skilled puncher sent by the Russians can.
Why? Assassination attempts by his own men have left Hitler paranoid in the final days of World War II. He’s banned all staff from carrying weapons, leaving him the only armed individual in the bunker.
No guns. No knives. Nothing.
Thus, Uncle Sam needs a man whose weapon is his fist.
Is this a viable novel idea? Would you want to read a book about Hitler getting punched in the face?
The first three proposed chapters and outline of the rest:
Hate to do it, you all know how cheap I am, but I’m thinking about opening up the ole wallet and letting the moths fly out to get some banner photos.
What I’m thinking about:
Banner images that could be used as the header photo on this site, plus on Twitter and Facebook.
Probably through 99 designs.
Possible ideas:
1) As you know, Alien Jones and I allow the Yeti out of his cage once a week to watch Scandal. It’s our special Scandal night. The three of us eat chips and dip and talk about Olivia’s latest adventures.
The image would be a nerd to represent myself sitting on a couch between the Yeti and Alien Jones with a TV in front of us.
Should my main squeeze Video Game Rack Fighter also be on the couch? Could be cool, could be crowded. Cuz then, do I have to add Dr. Hugo Von Science, Uncle Hardass and other subsidiary characters?
2) Not exactly Star Wars but a Star Wars – esque poster where a nerd, that would be me, is in some kind of action pose, holding a ray gun or something, Video Game Rack Fighter clutching me….Dr. Hugo and Alien Jones have my back, the Yeti looms large ready to eat me or something.
3) Maybe just my bookshelf with battles going on it. A bunch of books and little characters running around on the shelves attacking each other.
Which one of these ideas do you like and do you have any others, 3.5 Readers?
WOMAN: I’m scared! OPERATOR: Because there’s a man in your house? WOMAN: No because BQB hasn’t posted any new Pop Culture Mysteries yet!
Bookshelf Q. Battler here.
Funny thing about being an aspiring writer.
Literally no one respects the process.
Here’s how my past week has been.
BQB: Uh, HELLO?! Can everyone leave me alone? I’m trying to write a whimsically fun story about a private dick who woke up after a 59 year nap and now solves mysteries related to popular culture!
EVERYONE: BAH HA HA HA! F*&K YOU AND DO OUR BIDDING, SLAVE!
Here’s hoping there will be more free time in the week ahead.
My problem has never been one of writer’s block.
I have too many ideas. I just never have enough time.
But I know I have to pick one and this seems like a good one, with a structure that fits my life. I can post pieces of a mystery, form an ongoing story, and then hopefully manage to produce a book at the end of the season.
The magnanimous mind of Alien Jones here, once again bringing you the knowledge required to raise your planet above its current status as the laughing stock of the Milky Way.
You might have noticed there’s a “Zsa Zsa Gabor” in there. No, I don’t share a name with an aristocratic Hungarian actress of the 1960’s. In my language, “ZsaZsa” means “Peace” and “Gabor” means prosperity. Thus, there’s the old tradition on my planet of saying, “Good day to you, and may much Zsa Zsa Gabor come your way!”
To properly pronounce my name, you’d have to:
Pull out your tongue
Allow another person to jump over it like it was a jumprope
Tie it in a knot
Untie it again and…
Lick a frog
You don’t actually have to lick a frog. I just wanted to see if someone out there would.
Thus, since my name is so difficult to pronounce, I just go with an Earthly last name, hence “Alien Jones.”
Are you a fan of Orange is the New Black? Admittedly, my boss, the Mighty Potentate, is a fan as well. With its mix of humor and drama, not to mention rich character development, His Supreme Fabulousness deems this program to be one more blow against the impending tide of unscripted reality television. Quality fiction is the only thing that can stop the menace that is reality TV from spreading across the universe.
On Marion’s blog, marionstein.net, one can find a number of articles that can help humans improve their intelligence. Thank goodness I’m not the only one devoted to this Herculean effort.
Further, Bookshelf Q. Battler’s 3.5 readers can check out Marion’s Amazon Author Page. “Blood Diva” seems like an especially saucy tale, one about a French courtesan turned vampire.
Interestingly, Marion’s author page notes she has a background as a social worker. I view myself as a social worker of sorts. What do I do if not help humans become better people by sharing with them the knowledge of my genius brain?
And believe you me, I do this work because it’s a labor of love on my part, and not, as rumored, because the Mighty Potentate has threatened to shoot me out of a cannon directly into one of my home planet’s many suns if I fail to do so.
Thank you for your question, Marion. Continue to educate the humans with your words. I can’t be the only one on the job.
Alien Jones is the Intergalactic Correspondent for the Bookshelf Battle. Do you have a question for the Esteemed Brainy One? Submit it to Bookshelf Q. Battler via a tweet to @bookshelfbattle, leave it in the comment section on this site, or drop it off on the Bookshelf Battle Google + page. If AJ likes your question, he might promote your book, blog, or other project while providing his answer.
Submit your questions by midnight Friday each week for a chance to be featured in his Sunday column. And if you don’t like his response, just let him know and he’ll file it into the recycling bin of his monolithic super computer. No muss, no fuss, no problem.
Afraid it’s one of those days where I don’t have much for you at all.
On a whim, I went back and tweeted every Indie Author that Alien Jones has promoted thus far since his Ask the Alien column started in March.
Sixteen so far and another author has already made an inquiry for this Sunday.
Check out @bookshelfbattle ‘s most recent tweets for all the indie book promo goodness.
Alien Jones’ question for you:
Why haven’t you asked the alien a question and gotten your plug yet?
Alien Jones has been on a hot streak. This Sunday will mark 5 whole consecutive weeks of the Esteemed Brainy One answering a question. (He’s answered questions from 16 going on 17 writers, but has sometimes gone a week or two here and there with no one consulting his bulbous brain.)
Can we keep this momentum going?
Ask the Alien a question and get in the cue!
It sure would make the Mighty Potentate happy and the happier the MP is, the less likely Alien Jones is to get vaporized by his boss.
Part 6 – The Return of Bookshelf Q. Battler – Our humble blog host wakes up in the hospital to discover Aunt Gertie (one of his 3.5 readers) was one of the only 3.5 people who missed him while he was dead due to a tragic bout with a chronic case of Lightning Infused Toaster Pastry Toilet Death. Dr. Goetleib informs BQB this condition is more common than you’d think.
Part 7 – The Butt Pillow – The tiny inhabitants of BQB’s magic bookshelf, the shelf that fuels the fire of a blog beloved by 3.5 readers, apologize for the chicanery that got their caretaker injured.
Part 8 – Troublesome Characters – BQB considers transferring ownership of the magic bookshelf to fantasy author Joel L.L. Torrow, known throughout the literary world as the writer who bumps off a dozen characters a day before breakfast.
Part 9 – The Game is Afoot! – Diminutive versions of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson come to BQB’s aid, even though theirhelp is not wanted (a fact BQB expresses vigorously.)
Concerned that BQB has lost his vigor, Holmes vows to solve, “The Case of the Missing Bookshelf Caretaker’s Testicles!”
Part 10 – Sell-Out – Utilizing his legendary powers of deduction, Holmes determines that BQB lost his mojo and quit on his dream of becoming a scribe when his ex-girlfriend Blandie yanked out his heart and used it as a hacky-sack.
BQB’s ex-girlfriend, Blandie. Literally, this was the expression she had on her face throughout the entire course of her whirlwind romance with BQB.
BQB left writing for the business world, taking a low-level, go nowhere assistant job at ridiculously boring conglomerate known as Beige Corp, the world’s premiere producer of beige products and accessories.
Part 12 – War in Pango Tango – The answer to the BQB’s question lies in the mind of The Great Guru, the wisest nerd in the entire world, who gained his wisdom by reading every book ever written. Alas, his lair is located at the top of an enormous mountain situated in the middle of an island plagued by civil war. Ironically, the Pangonians and the Tangonians have been shooting, bombing, and hacking each other to pieces for twenty years due to a feud over which side is more peaceful.
Copyright (c) 2015 Bookshelf Q. Battler. All Rights Reserved.
Attorney Donnelly advises: Any resemblance to real individuals or characters in other literary works is intended for parody purposes only and not to take anything away from those fine works. Also, said alleged resemblances are probably just imaginary and you made them up in your head.
Bookshelf Q. Battler here to talk about my intergalactic correspondent, the one, the only, the pantsless Alien Jones.
The Esteemed Brainy One has been on a roll lately.
He of the Amazing Gray Matter has had a question from a different self published author to answer every Sunday for the past four weeks, and there’s already one in the cue for this Sunday. That’ll make five weeks of AJ goodness.
On top of that, since his column began earlier this year, he has amassed quite an impressive list of author promos.
3.5 readers, I never asked to be the chosen one of an unnamed planet’s Supreme and Unquestioned Overlord. When Alien Jones showed up at the Bookshelf Battle compound and informed me the Mighty Potentate had sent him on a mission to help me get my writing career off the ground, I was truly humbled.
Alien Jones’ Mission?
To:
A) Answer questions from self-publishing authors in his “Ask the Alien Column.”
The Mighty Potentate, Supreme and Unquestionable Ruler of a Planet the Name of Which is None of Your Beeswax
This mission stems largely from the Mighty Potentate’s utter disgust with Earth’s reality television and a fear that these horrid shows will one day permeate the airwaves of every television in the universe (including the Potentate’s home planet) if more fiction and/or scripted media is not produced to stem the tide.
Thus, by enlisting Alien Jones to write for my blog, the Mighty Potentate hopes:
B) Earthlings will read his answers and become smarter. Increased intelligence=increased aversion to shows about models deciding which handbag to buy, or which billionaire to marry, or dudes running pawn shops, or catching fish, or pawning their fish.
Here’s a chicken vs. the egg scenario: Does reality tv make Earthlings dumber or do we produce and consume so much reality TV because we’re so dumb in the first place?
(We may think we’re smart but we’re comparatively dumb compared to the highly accomplished aliens of Alien Jones’ homeworld, the name of which the Mighty Potentate refuses to publicize out of a fear that Hollywood suits will invest in and unlock the secrets of interspace travel so as to deliver shows about Kim Kardashian throughout the cosmos.)
C) Alien Jones’ witty commentaries will bring more eyes on my work, thus attracting Hollywood suits to turn my ideas into movies and TV shows, thus reducing air time for reality TV.
D) AJ’s promos of other self-published authors will also help promote more fiction and veer the public’s attention away from reality TV.
REALITY TELEVISION SHOWS THAT MOST OFFEND THE MIGHTY POTENTATE
1) So You Want to Be an Emu Farmer?
2) Schmuck House (Twelve people of various backgrounds live together in a house for a year and compete to be the biggest schmuck)
3) Hot Women Go Shopping and Carry Purse Dogs and You Really Want to Marry Them Until They Start Talking
4) Body Odor Wars
5) Cactus Trimmers
6) Hoarders vs. Preppers
7) Hoarders vs. Preppers vs. Zombies
8) Hot Dog Stand Intervention (A world renowned hot dog cooking expert travels the world helping hot dog cart vendors upgrade and pimp out their hot dog carts)
9) Rabid Badger Island (10 idiots are dropped off on an island with a rabid badger. Who will survive? Who will be eaten by a rabid badger? Alliances will be made and loyalties tested.)
10) Mr. Outdoorsman – (This week, Mr. Outdoorsman survives in the wild for three weeks drinking his own fluids and consuming nothing but bugs and grass only to realize he’s not lost, he was in his own back yard the entire time and his house is five feet away).
Is there a point to this post?
Yes.
If you’re a self-published author, be a sport and ask Alien Jones a question. He’ll come up with a witty answer, promo your book, your author blog, page, etc.
In addition to being promo’d on bookshelfbattle.com, BQB always tweets a link to AJ’s column on Twitter, and posts a link on his Bookshelf Battle Google Plus page.
Do you have anything to lose? Not really. If you decide you despise Alien Jones’ promo of your work, no problem. Just bring it to BQB’s attention and AJ’s promo of your work will be vaporized.
That hasn’t been a problem yet though. Every author so far has been pretty pleased.
I’d love it if this could become a thing, like getting parodied on SNL, you know you’ve made it in the self publishing racquet if the little green guy answers your question.
What can your question be about? Anything. Some people get elaborate. Some make it simple. You can be funny and witty or serious, whatever. Several authors have picked subject matters that are discussed in their books but that’s up to you.
Think of it this way. One day when your book sells a million copies, Jimmy Fallon will demand you come on the Tonight Show and do an outrageous bit with him. Asking the Alien a question is like practice for your big day.
Needless to say, the Esteemed Brainy One always reserves the right to NOT answer your question or NOT promo you. It hasn’t happened yet but, you know, if your book’s called “Hooray for Hitler!” we’re going to take a pass.
As always, thanks for reading 3.5 readers.
Let’s keep this Alien Jones hot streak going.
Sincerely,
Bookshelf Q. Battler, World Renowned Poindexter, Reviewer of Books, Movies, and Assorted Cultural Happenings, Champion Yeti Fighter and Blogger-in-Chief for the Bookshelf Battle Blog
Green alien image courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.
I’m not sure if crabs are airborne, but I felt itchy as soon as I walked through the double-doors.
The scent of body sweat and cheap perfume wafted up my nostrils as I was unceremoniously greeted by a bouncer who looked like a gorilla stuffed into an off-the-rack suit.
“Twenty bucks.”
Inflation’s a bitch. In my day, you could oggle exotic dancers for less than what you people pay for coffee today.
I wanted to debate the point with the goon, but he didn’t appear to be the talkative type.
I retrieved an Andrew Jackson portrait out of Karen’s envelope and handed it over. The mug lifted up the rope and let me in.
What a scene. The room was lousy with tawdry, painted-up hussies and assorted deviants who preferred to pay women for their time rather than earn it through their wit and charm.
That’s not my style. If I can’t earn a woman’s time through my wit and charm then I’d just rather be alone.
Coincidentally, I spent a lot of time alone.
It was interesting to mingle with twenty-first century folk.
“What can I get you honey?”
The barkeep was a real bodacious bimbo, face like a movie star and yet a pair of bosoms that looked like they’d been pilfered from a watermelon patch.
Breast enhancement surgery. Nose reduction surgery. All kinds of plastic surgery.
One of the more shocking parts of modern life for me was realizing that everyone and their mother was doling out their hard-earned cash to disreputable quacks to tinker with what God gave them.
Take what you were born with and do your best, I always say.
And I know that’s easy for me to say because, hell, I’m more handsome than Cary Grant on his best day, but still. It just seems to me that society has devolved into a bunch of people who are preoccupied with what other people think of them, but never bother to just flat out talk to anyone anymore.
The art of “getting to know you” is dead. Long live the age where you’re just another nameless face and if you can’t impress anyone within the first five minutes, you might as well get comfortable on the pine, because you’re going to be riding it the rest of your life.
“Nothing for me, doll. Trying to keep my head clear.”
“There’s a two drink minimum.”
Another snow job.
“Well, I suppose if you’re going to twist my arm, sweetheart, I’ll take a whiskey straight up.”
Whatever happened to the lost art of conversation? Barkeeps used to talk your ear off and you’d just keep buying drinks to keep the conversation going. Everything’s so contrived now.
Suddenly, there was an uninvited posterior in my lap. It was attached to a gal with pink hair and a skimpy red dress that barely covered her derriere.
“Hi there,” she said in the worst attempt at a sultry voice I’d ever heard. “My name’s Sinnamon.”
“Hello.”
“It’s spelled with an, “S” because I’m so sinful,” the broad whispered into my ear.
“Darlin,’ if you have to explain it, it’s not that clever.”
The barkeep returned with my shot.
“6.50.”
Mother of God. I forked over a ten-spot. Karen’s envelope was getting lighter and lighter.
“Thanks for the tip baby,” the bartender said.
I’d expected change but whatever. If there’s one lesson I’ve learned from three marriages, it’s that arguing with a woman is pointless.
“What’s your name?” Sinnamon asked.
“Huh?”
I wasn’t paying attention. I was surveying the scene trying to see if I could figure out who Karen was.
Myron the self-proclaimed Rastafarian said that Craig shacked up with a working girl named Karen.
Lou had an envelope of cash with Karen’s name on it.
Dollars to donuts both Karens were the same dame.
“Your name, honey?” Sinnamon asked as she stared at me through a pair of big brown eyes.
I suppose most men would find that enchanting, maybe even endearing, but I was immune to feminine wiles. That tends to happen when your first wife cheats on you with your partner and your second wife shoots you six times and leaves you for dead so she can run off with your rotten, good for nothing brother.
Women just didn’t have the power over me that they used to. At least most women didn’t. A classy dame like Delilah could ask me to hurl myself into the Grand Canyon and the only thing I’d ask her if I should do a back flip or a swan dive.
“Peter Lorrie,” I said. “I’m an actor.”
“You are?!”
Wow. It was easy to pull that broad’s leg.
“Yes. I always play the bad guy. You might not recognize me as I just got eyeball reduction surgery.”
“Do you want to read my screenplay?” Sinnamon asked as she hopped off my lap. “It’s in my locker. Hold on I’ll get it for you!”
A hazard of living in LA – every yahoo within the city limits has a screenplay they’re pushing. And when I say “everybody,” I mean everybody. The bus driver, the barber, the waitress at the diner, the kid that fetches your burger at the drive-thru, the guy that holds the door open for you when you visit a fancy building – everyone of them is trying to break into the business.
On any given day, a visitor to the City of Angels is in danger of having approximately sixty-five screenplays thrust upon him.
“No,” I said as I downed my shot. “No, no. That’s ok doll.”
“Are you sure?” Sinnamon asked. “It’ll just take a minute.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve been outta’ the business for awhile and I’d rather you wait and find someone who can give your story some extra oomph. Surely a lady of your obvious talent deserves nothing less.”
Sinnamon put her hand on my shoulder. A little tear popped out of her eye.
“That’s literally the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me in here.”
“Then I feel sorry for you.”
She was back on the lap. I get most men like that but all I could think about was how many other laps she’d sat on that day and how many lap-to-butt germs was she dropping off onto my lap. I’d have to ask Ms. Tsang to starch my trousers as soon as I got home.
“I like you, Peter.”
“Can’t say as I blame you.”
“You know I don’t tell many guys this but my real name is Ferrari.”
Ferrari. They had those in my day too. Fast cars but everyone wants to drive them and dump them as soon as they get the gas bill. Like a mini-van that gets you from point a to point b, I preferred my women to be dependable and reliable.
“Listen sister,” I said. “This aint’ my first go-round in a jiggle joint.”
“Excuse me?”
“There’s no excuse for you,” I said. “You think I just fell off the turnip truck? That ‘tell a guy a first fake name then tell him a second fake name is your real name’ is the oldest trick in the book, see? Designed solely for the purposes of extracting dinero from the pockets of mouth breathing slobs you dames dupe into thinking you give a damn about them.”
“Well,” Sinnamon/Ferrari said as she tickled my arm gently and batted her eyelashes. “Did it work?”
“Nope.”
“So you don’t want to go to the champagne room?”
“The champagne room? What the hell’s that?”
Sinnamon, oh what the hell, “Ferrari” whispered some naughtyness into my ear, the kind of foul language that would of made a nun blush.
“Really?” I asked.
Ferrari nodded.
“How do you…”
She whispered the answer.
“With your…and your…on my?”
Another whisper.
“I’m no doctor but that seems rather unhygienic if you ask me.”
Whisper whisper.
“How much would that whole hullabaloo set a fella back?”
I only asked for curiosity purposes. We private dicks are nothing if not inquisitive.
Ferrari whispered the price tag in my ear.
“Get out of town on the next train to Juarez!” I shouted, a bit too loudly as I caused heads to turn all over the joint. People were able to hear me even over the crappy house music.
“What’re you, smuggling conflict diamonds in there or something?”
The gal smooched me on the cheek.
“OK baby if you’re broke then you’re just wasting my time. I’ll see you later.”
“Hold on doll,” I said as I pulled another twenty out of Karen’s envelope.
“A tip?” the dancer asked as she reached for it. “That’s sweet.”
“Nah,” I said. “If I was going to give you a tip, sweetheart, I’d tell you to call your parents and apologize for your life choices. I want to buy some information.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Which one of these floozies is Karen?”
Copyright (c) 2015 Bookshelf Q. Battler. All Rights Reserved.
Bookshelf Battle 