Every author has to post about the secrets to authorial success. Well, I’ve got a different take, a special take, a unique take. I HAVE no authorial success. Which means I’m more intimately familiar with what NOT to do. Who wants advice about how to succeed from somebody who HAS succeeded? That’s silly. Obviously they knew somebody, and they’re NOT going to give you that person’s phone number. But I have no such qualms. In fact, here are a few phone numbers which may belong to movers and shakers:

• 555-1212
• 000-0000
• 90210
• 314159265358979323846
• 1

The point is that when none of these are willing to give you the time of day, I will. 7:33 PM.

So, without further ado, here is a list of helpful do’s and dont’s for aspiring authors:

• Don’t … use big words or complex sentences. That makes you posh, elite, pretentious, and altogether hateful. Who reads big words and complex sentences these days? That’s old fashioned, like you know like last decade. Who wants to be OLD? Besides, why would you want your book to be inaccessible? Big words and complex sentences mean you will target a tiny number of people who mostly read things they’re told to read by the N.Y. Times and won’t like your stuff anyway unless you know somebody AT the N.Y. Times.

• Don’t … employ subtle ideas or twists or anything complicated to grasp. Such books are for privileged old people, those educated in the dark era before people realized that the purpose of school was fashionable political activism. Just remember: ideas are bad. Most people don’t have any, and it’s rude to flaunt what you have and others don’t.

• Don’t … proofread, spell-check, or worry about style or grammar. These are wasteful. Proofreading and editing take time. Lots of time. Nobody appreciates them, and they’ll just slow you down. All the best books were written on a phone using two thumbs and very few brain cells. How many artisanal craftsmen do you know? Exactly. If you’re not producing beer, it’s not a craft — it’s a waste of time. Just write as many words as you can as fast as you can. To borrow from the bible (Bumperstickers 3:21, 4): write them all and let god sort it out.

• Don’t … use characters, plot, or dialog. Creativity is bad. You’ll only increase the chance of offending people. The best way to avoid doing that is by writing solely about yourself, but only if you’re not the type of person inherently offensive to others. There are some handy websites which list acceptable types of people and unacceptable ones.

• Don’t … worry about pesky things like factual accuracy or consistency. A famous director said that when it’s a choice between drama and consistency, drama wins every time. He’s an idiot, but a rich one. What do you want to be: right or rich? Incidentally, it’s ALWAYS a choice between drama and consistency. If you have time to be consistent, spend it writing more drama instead. Your time is finite — which is a plothole that conveniently can be plugged by reversing the polarity of the Quantum Tachyonic Blockchain.

• Don’t … advertise or pay anybody for anything. Why pay for nobody to buy your book, when you can get that for free?

• Don’t … ask friends or family to review your book. Not because it’s against the rules, but because they won’t. Then you’ll have fewer friends and family. Only ask people you don’t like and who don’t like you.

• Don’t … issue a press release. Nobody will read it, nobody will care. Yet another book tossed on the dung heap of human blather. Yawn. “News” must be something which matters to other people. Like journalists. As everyone knows, modern journalism involves complaining about something which happened to the reporter’s BFF, making it sound like a ubiquitous problem, and quoting lots of tweets. Serious journalists won’t have time for you because they always have a BFF in trouble, and curating tweets is a fulltime job.

• Don’t … submit to agents, magazines, or contests. If you were the type of person who could get accepted, you would know because you would be published, famous, or well-connected. Since you’re not published, famous, or well-connected, you obviously won’t be accepted. Sure, every now and then somebody new accidentally slips in. It’s an accident resulting from their being related to somebody published, famous, or well-connected.

• Do … copy whatever is popular at the moment. Book, movie, video-game, comic, or meme — it doesn’t matter. People only read what’s popular, otherwise something else would be popular. As a rich person once said: if you want to be rich do what rich people do. Which is giving bad advice to poor people. See? I’m going to be rich. Well, he actually never said you would be rich, just want to be. Look, people want to reread the same book over and over. It’s easier because they already know the words and nothing scary and unexpected can happen. So why not rewrite those very words and partake of the riches?

• Do … focus on fanfiction. Being original is time-consuming, hard, and terribly unprofitable. Who wants to engage in some new unknown adventure when they can dwell in the comfortable world they’ve come to know. Not the real one; that’s terribly uncomfortable. But one inhabited by loveable characters they somehow feel a personal connection to, and who can’t get a restraining order against them.

• Do … pretend to be somebody else. Nobody likes your sort. Whatever you are is offensive in all ways imagineable. Choose a name which represents the group favored by the publishing industry at this moment. Just look at who gets published and who doesn’t. Not established authors, but debut novelists. Nobody’s going to dump Stephen King just because the name Stephen is anathema according to the politics of that week. But they probably won’t publish debut novelist Stephen Timingsucks (unless TimingSucks is native American and native Americans are in that week).

• Do … know somebody. It’s the only way to get an agent or publisher. If you don’t know anybody, then the best way to meet them is a cold approach. Go to buildings inhabited by agents and publishers, and ride the elevators. That’s why it’s called an “elevator pitch”. When somebody important-looking gets in, stand next to them, sideways, and stare at the side of their head. Remember: it doesn’t matter how the conversation gets started, just where it goes. Which isn’t always jail. All you need is one yes, and it really doesn’t matter how you get it.

• Do … make it political. Your book should bravely embrace the prevailing political sentiments of the publishing industry. Only then will you be recognized for the courage of conformity. The publishing industry regularly offers awards for just that sort of thing.

• Do … write about you, you, and you. Far more appealing to readers than plot, style, or substance is your commonplace personal struggle and how you specifically overcame it. Nothing is as compelling as minor adversity subjectively related by the one who experienced it. Be sure to make clear that the reason you prevailed was your unique grit, determination, and moral superiority. Like the dictators of old, you thrice refused the world’s entreaties to tell your story. Only when sufficiently importuned by the earnest pleas of the masses did you relent and accept the mantle of greatness.

• Do … blog, tweet, instagram, post, and youtube. Who wants to read a book by and about somebody they don’t feel a personal connection with? Have you ever heard the names Tolstoy, Dickens, or Proust? Of course not. They didn’t understand the importance of selling the author, not the work. You need to sell yourself. Literally. While actual Roman-style slavery is illegal in most States, a variety of financial instruments can achieve the same affect.

• Do … spend the vast majority of your time inhabiting an ecosystem of writers. Your time is far better spent blogging, connecting, and advising other writers rather than writing for the lay person. Sure, outreach is fashionable these days, and it does have a few benefits. But one should not spend too much time demonstrating the writing process through novels, stories, or poetry. Best to focus on publishing for one’s peers.

• Do … workshop, workshop, and workshop. No writer of note ever succeeded without writing courses, workshops, several professional editors, and an emotional support network. How else could they learn to express themselves in precisely the right manner as discovered by modern researchers and taught only through MFA programs? This is why there’s nothing worth reading from before the 1990s. Fortunately we live in enlightened and egalitarian times, and the advantages of an MFA are available to everybody. Which explains why everybody has one.

• Do … be chatty, shmoozy, and a massive extrovert who attends conferences, sucks up to agents, and shamelessly promotes yourself. If you’re not that way, make yourself that way. There are plenty of blogs and books by chatty, shmoozy, massive extroverts on how to. These explain in clear and practical terms how you should have been born chatty, shmoozy, and a massive extrovert. If that doesn’t work, there is a simple surgical procedure which can help. It’s called a lobotomy, and also will help you blog, tweet, post, and youtube more effectively. Be your audience.

• Do … consider tried and true techniques when ordinary submission and marketing methods don’t work. These business methodologies have been refined and proven in many domains over many years. Whole enterprises are dedicated to their successful application, and they can be surprisingly inexpensive. Extortion, kidnapping, blackmail, torture, and politics all can work wonders for your book’s advancement. Pick your poison. Literally. I have an excellent book coming out, filled with recommendations and in which I describe my own struggle to find the right poison and the absolutely brilliant way I overcame this adversity. It’s a very compelling read.

• Do … show, don’t tell. When somebody talks about the aforementioned tactics you’ve used, make a gruesome example of them. This is showing, so that people don’t tell. Most writing coaches emphasize the importance of “show don’t tell,” and you can find some excellent examples in the work of various drug cartels and the Heads of State of certain current allies and trading partners.

• Do … kill your babies. This is another mainstay of writing wisdom, and a constant refrain in almost any workshop. It can be difficult, especially the first few times. But if that initial instinct can be overcome, it definitely is something worth trying. While it won’t always help, such sacrifices have been known to curry favor with XchXlotbltyl, the dark god of publication (and a major shareholder in most large publishing houses). Details on the appropriate ceremonies for different genres can be found on popular writing blogs. And don’t worry, you always can produce more babies… and thus more success.

• Do … remember there’s no need to write the ending first — or ever. There has yet to be born a human with a different ending. But entropy and the inevitable degradation wrought by time rarely appeal to modern audiences. Best to throw in a sappy romantic hookup or hint at an improbable revival of the seemingly dead protagonist. Which brings us to…

• Don’t … hint. Nobody likes ambiguity. That is why TV is so popular. Books are a very primitive technology, and they require a lot of unnecessary work by the reader. Faces, scenes, even actions need be imagined anew by every reader. This is inefficient. Remember, you’re catering to people who don’t have cable or can’t afford it or are allergic. It’s your job to make their entertainment as painless as possible despite their unfortunate circumstance. Anything else would be ablist. So don’t leave anything ambiguous. Make sure you spell out what just happened, over and over, just in case the first few explanantions didn’t work. Remember the first rule of teaching: Keep the kids’ Chromebook software up to date. Well, the 2nd rule: repeat everything 3 times for the people with no attention span, too stupid, or too distracted to have caught the first 2 times. And don’t forget to give them an achievement award for getting it. So repeat every plot point 3 times, and congratulate the reader on finally getting it.

• Do … make the reader feel smarter than fictional characters. This is the point of revealing things to the reader that characters don’t know. A well written book will have the reader shouting advice to the characters. Because if your readers aren’t better than a nonexistent and contrived character, who are they better than?

• Do … publish each sentence as you write it. In the old days, writers had to wait a long time. Agents vetted writers’ works, publishers vetted agents’ submissions, editors vetted accepted works, and copy-editors, proofreaders, and countless others meticulously checked things at every stage. That book of cat jokes filled replete with typos would take several years to see print, not counting the time required to hand-deliver manuscripts by stagecoach or the frequent loss of an editor or writer from dropsy. Thank goodness we live in modern times! These days there’s no need to wait years for feedback or abide by the traditional publication timeline. Your brilliance need not be thwarted by the need for reflection or editing. Each sentence you write should be tweeted, posted on Wattpad, and blogged the moment it appears. When you get feedback, incorporate it all. Otherwise somebody might be sad, and we don’t want anybody to be sad while reading your book. That’s for somebody else’s book, somebody poor and unsuccessful who uses big words and doesn’t know the rules. Besides, as Hollywood has shown, design by committee is the best way to create a quality creative product. Call it the democratization of writing. As recent polls showed, nothing’s better than democracy. In an ideal world, every word would be voted on and accepted or rejected accordingly. One day this utopia may be real, but for now you’ll have to settle for releasing on a sentence-by-sentence basis. At least you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that your final product was vetted by countless strangers with wildly varying aptitudes, motives, and tastes, rather than a few so-called “professionals” who’ve been doing the same boring thing for years. Do you really want the same old boring people reading your work, let alone editing it?

• Do … setup a botnet to counter the million of bad ratings your book will get on social media sites. In uncivilized times, negative reviews only came from critics who actually read your book but didn’t understand it or found it differed in some small way from what they thought you should have written but never would bother to write themselves because they’re too busy writing negative reviews. That was a slow process. We all know how long it took for Mozart to get meaningful feedback like “too many notes,” and how much his craft improved as a result. Imagine what he could have composed if he learned this earlier! These days we’re much more fortunate. One needn’t wait months or years for a hostile stranger with adverse incentives to read your book and pan it. There are millions of hostile strangers with adverse incentives willing to do so without troubling to read it. This is much more efficient, and we have modern social media to thank for rewarding such behavior with improved social standing. Otherwise, you’d have to wait for some “reputable” critic to actually read your literary novel and comment on it. Instead you’ll generously receive feedback from somebody far more credible who only reads young adult coming-of-age novels about pandas but is willing to step out of their comfort zone and negatively rate your book without having read it. You’re welcome.

• Don’t … have any faith in humanity. If you did you won’t for long. But you didn’t or you wouldn’t be a writer in the first place. Who but from malice would wish to imprint their thoughts on the world. Or ask of another that they occupy the liminal time between nonexistence and nonexistence with a less poetic, less subtle, and less profound rehash of the same tired ideas. You are, after all, asking people to share your delusion of eloquence. That’s almost like founding a cult. Which incidentally, is an excellent way to promote your book.

• Do .. buy my book. It won’t make you happy, but you can’t buy happiness so you may as well spend your money on this.