When You PLAY IT, SAY IT!
If you want to see me really happy, set the controls of your TARDIS to the campus of Texas Christian University in the summer of 2001 or the subsequent winter break. In the middle of the night, you’ll find me at the controls of FM 88.7 KTCU. Early on, I’d be playing a stream-of-consciousness succession of songs on a nigh-impossible-to-divine theme I challenged the listeners to identify and phone in before my shift concluded. Later in my tenure, I did a show called Discography, which was delightfully over-researched and breathtakingly under-rehearsed.
Imagine three hours of Queen starting with the pre-Mercury/Deacon Smile single “Earth” and wandering through the band’s entire catalog in chronological order with single edits, album cuts, live tracks, B-sides, and remixes littered with my commentary. I can’t imagine “A Dozen Red Roses for My Darling” has been played over the North Texas airways before or since.
The poor judgment of Professor Andy Haskett in allowing such mania on his air is not what I’m here to tell you about, though.
A number of my 12" promotional singles featured the sticker above. It was from a campaign encouraging disc jockeys to say the title of the song and the artist performing it, for the benefit of the listener, the artist, and—mostly—the record label.
You’d think it would be common sense to say, “You’re listening to eighty-eight point seven on your F.M. dial, and that was Sting playing a plaintive “Message in the Bottle”, solo in a strangely sad spotlight, from 1982’s Secret Policeman’s Other Ball,” but the existence of such stickers tells us otherwise, which brings me—at thirty-three and a third revolutions per minute to…
WORD OF MOUTH (or social media)
To one degree or another, I am responsible for 84 independently published books.
For the most part, the publicity for these volumes consisted of the author—often with me, standing next to them—shouting as loudly as humanly possible…or the virtual equivalent thereof.
While you most assuredly could order my WRITING THE X-FILES from Barnes & Noble if you went in with the ISBN and all the books I edited for Harlan Ellison were readily available on Amazon, the single greatest challenge was letting the potential audience know that these things existed in the first place.
In thinking on this problem—and generally trying to be a better citizen of the cosmos—I have developed an approach that seems humane and in keeping with my desire to keep the signal-to-noise ratio of the universe high.
If I think something is good, I’ll tell people about it.
In all cases, I’ll hit the LIKE button and—where applicable—I’ll do my best boost the signal. We’re all just trying to get our voice above the noise floor for a few shouts, to connect with someone else.
If I’m truly nuts about something, I’ll tell everyone I meet. I probably won’t shut up about it.
I’m sure there are people who lived for Doctor Who’s cancellation in 1989—probably my parents—and doubtless there are those who rolled their eyes at the TARDIS reference at the top of this newsletter because Jason can’t write for twelve paragraphs without mentioning that 60-year-old show…
This is THE DRAEJON by Glenn Morrissey. He’s a friend of mine, and he’s a fine writer. Go give this, his first novel, a look and—if his writing and his story appeal to you—buy it.
If it grips you to the end, TELL SOMEONE.
When You READ IT, SPEAK IT! Doesn’t work quite as well, but you get the point.
If I think something is bad, I keep my mouth shut.
Taste being subjective, if something’s not my cup of tea, I don’t drink it…and I don’t wander about telling unsuspecting people how awful it was…because they might like it. (If the tea is poisoned, that's another story.)
Terry Tonedeaf doesn’t need me knocking his music any more than I need someone giving a book I worked on one star because Amazon shipped them a mangled copy and they can’t perceive the distinction between the quality of a product and the state of its delivery.
I’m still working on that self-promotion angle.
I’m hoping this Leone-inspired arrangement has provided a spoonful of sugar for the following medicine—did he just put Mary Poppins in a Spaghetti Western?—and I hope you’ll consider helping me get the word out about my writing workshops. You can find likable and boostable posts on Facebook, Instagram, and the Site Formerly Known as Twitter. Or, you could do it the old-fashioned way and shout at strangers on street corners or phone a friend.
There's still time to register!
A further pay-what-you-can Write Your Story workshop is happening at 6 PM Pacific Daylight Time on Thursday, 31 August 2023. The plan is to refine the original presentation and have a bit more back-and-forth with the attendees. I hope to see you there.
And don't forget!
The six-week Write Your Story class. The sessions will run at 10 AM Pacific Daylight Time on successive Saturdays from 9 September 2023 through 14 October 2023, with replays available should you miss a session.
Did you miss the first three Newsletters?
You can find them here and here.
And here!
It's never too late. |
