Michael Jenkins's Blog - Posts Tagged "comedy"
A Book Giveaway Starting 8/17!
Yes, why not give away some of these books that I have collecting dust on my desk here. It's pollen, mostly, from keeping the window open back in the spring. Don't worry, I'll wipe them off.
I'm giving away three whole books to three lucky(?) recipients. However, I am having a bit of trouble coming up with a funny message to write to the winners. Since it's a humor book, I suppose I should write something gregarious and witty, perhaps slightly intellectual. Here are some ideas I'm kicking around for the autographed title page for my free book giveaway:
*No refunds
*At least one of these pages has been thoroughly licked
*Tell your friends? (Question mark emphasized)
*Do you like movies about gladiators?
*So you say this is the first time winning a book giveaway? And you got this? You poor son of a bitch.
What do you think, folks? Is there anything else worth saying? I know it certainly won't be "Congratulations."
Ask Me about My Grandcats: And Other Essays
I'm giving away three whole books to three lucky(?) recipients. However, I am having a bit of trouble coming up with a funny message to write to the winners. Since it's a humor book, I suppose I should write something gregarious and witty, perhaps slightly intellectual. Here are some ideas I'm kicking around for the autographed title page for my free book giveaway:
*No refunds
*At least one of these pages has been thoroughly licked
*Tell your friends? (Question mark emphasized)
*Do you like movies about gladiators?
*So you say this is the first time winning a book giveaway? And you got this? You poor son of a bitch.
What do you think, folks? Is there anything else worth saying? I know it certainly won't be "Congratulations."
Ask Me about My Grandcats: And Other Essays
Poetaster Extraordinaire
Hey, folks. Do any of you remember Sanjaya? He was one of the finalists in season 7’s American Idol. He had a huge group following that allowed him to last for much of the show but the only problem was he was awful; not William Hung awful, but awful all the same.
Critics of the show were perplexed why Sanjaya remained on the show despite the Idol judges abhorring his singing and after a certain point, failed to give constructive criticism on his performances.
The judges would listen to him sing and then go, “Ok, next.”
Simon Cowell even stated that if Sanjaya won American Idol that year, he wouldn’t have come back the next, because determining the next American Idol is a very important thing, apparently.
At first, I thought the Sanjaya phenomenon was just a display of low-brow, unenlightened public-opinion run amuck, but I don’t think that’s the case anymore. Not after reading about Julia A. Moore. Have you guys heard of Julia A. Moore?
Julia Moore was a poet in the late 19th century. The wife of a farmer and mother to 10 children (6 of whom made it to adulthood!), Julia wrote poetry and had the pamphlets up for sale in her Edgerton, Michigan store. One day, a Cleveland-based publisher named James F. Ryder came across one of Julia’s pamphlets and immediately ordered a second-printing. Ryder then sent copies of Julia’s collection, The Sentimental Songbook, along with a letter of overindulgent praise, to every major newspaper in the country.
“[The Sentimental Songbook] will prove a lift to the overtaxed brain. It may divert the despondent from suicide. It should enable the reader to forget the ‘stringency,’ and guide the thoughts into pleasanter channels. It is productive of good to humanity.”
Sounds like a brain and nerve tonic, doesn’t it? So, what exactly was Julia writing about in her poetry that could alleviate the inherent awfulness of human existence? Oh, you know, children falling down wells, deadly epidemics, train wrecks, crib death, and kids choking to death on their dinners. Just thinking about those things make me feel better.
Some people saw what Ryder saw and immediately “praised” her work. Other critics went the other route and had fun giving terrible reviews.
One newspaper wrote, “It is rare food for the lunatic. Shakespeare, could he read it, would be glad that he was dead.”
Another notable review said, “I have counted 21 killed and nine wounded in the small volume she has given to the public. Julia is worse than a Gatlin gun.”
Whether the reviews be negative or positive, The Sentimental Songbook became one of the best-selling poetry books of its day. Even Mark Twain was a fan! Twenty years after the original printing, Twain wrote, “The Sentimental Songbook has long been out of print, and has been forgotten by the world in general, but not by me. I carry it with me always.”
How did Julia react to all this press? She was not surprised by her own fame and figured that it was only going to be a matter of time when her genius was discovered.
However, months into her best-selling fame, she gave a reading complete with an orchestra. She thought all the boos and heckles from the crowd were because of the shoddy orchestral music that was playing.
So, a little while later, she gave another reading of her poetry sans orchestra. When she finally saw that people were heckling and laughing so hard they fell out of their chairs at her poetry, she finally realized the truth. It was a joke. It was all a big joke at her unwitting expense. Can you imagine what that moment must have been for her? When it finally all comes together, like the Kobayashi mug-drop in The Usual Suspects except it was somebody’s life.
I learned about Julia Moore years ago and at first found it remarkably funny; a running gag that the whole country can get in on; a 19th century Chuck Norris joke. But I’ve been thinking a lot about her lately in a more empathetic view. Do you ever think that maybe some of the things you do could possibly be quite terrible? Like, for instance, comedy essays? And the support you receive from others are actually attempts to keep the joke going, but you don’t question it because you’re blind to your own shortcomings? Maybe that’s the 4th dimension we just can’t see out of our grasp. Just something to think about. I ordered a copy of The Sentimental Songbook. I framed it as a reminder and keep it on my desk. I’ll close with a small poem from Julia.
“And now kind friends, what I have wrote,
I hope you will pass o’er
And not criticize, as some have done,
Hitherto herebefore.”
Signed,
Michael T. Moore.
Critics of the show were perplexed why Sanjaya remained on the show despite the Idol judges abhorring his singing and after a certain point, failed to give constructive criticism on his performances.
The judges would listen to him sing and then go, “Ok, next.”
Simon Cowell even stated that if Sanjaya won American Idol that year, he wouldn’t have come back the next, because determining the next American Idol is a very important thing, apparently.
At first, I thought the Sanjaya phenomenon was just a display of low-brow, unenlightened public-opinion run amuck, but I don’t think that’s the case anymore. Not after reading about Julia A. Moore. Have you guys heard of Julia A. Moore?
Julia Moore was a poet in the late 19th century. The wife of a farmer and mother to 10 children (6 of whom made it to adulthood!), Julia wrote poetry and had the pamphlets up for sale in her Edgerton, Michigan store. One day, a Cleveland-based publisher named James F. Ryder came across one of Julia’s pamphlets and immediately ordered a second-printing. Ryder then sent copies of Julia’s collection, The Sentimental Songbook, along with a letter of overindulgent praise, to every major newspaper in the country.
“[The Sentimental Songbook] will prove a lift to the overtaxed brain. It may divert the despondent from suicide. It should enable the reader to forget the ‘stringency,’ and guide the thoughts into pleasanter channels. It is productive of good to humanity.”
Sounds like a brain and nerve tonic, doesn’t it? So, what exactly was Julia writing about in her poetry that could alleviate the inherent awfulness of human existence? Oh, you know, children falling down wells, deadly epidemics, train wrecks, crib death, and kids choking to death on their dinners. Just thinking about those things make me feel better.
Some people saw what Ryder saw and immediately “praised” her work. Other critics went the other route and had fun giving terrible reviews.
One newspaper wrote, “It is rare food for the lunatic. Shakespeare, could he read it, would be glad that he was dead.”
Another notable review said, “I have counted 21 killed and nine wounded in the small volume she has given to the public. Julia is worse than a Gatlin gun.”
Whether the reviews be negative or positive, The Sentimental Songbook became one of the best-selling poetry books of its day. Even Mark Twain was a fan! Twenty years after the original printing, Twain wrote, “The Sentimental Songbook has long been out of print, and has been forgotten by the world in general, but not by me. I carry it with me always.”
How did Julia react to all this press? She was not surprised by her own fame and figured that it was only going to be a matter of time when her genius was discovered.
However, months into her best-selling fame, she gave a reading complete with an orchestra. She thought all the boos and heckles from the crowd were because of the shoddy orchestral music that was playing.
So, a little while later, she gave another reading of her poetry sans orchestra. When she finally saw that people were heckling and laughing so hard they fell out of their chairs at her poetry, she finally realized the truth. It was a joke. It was all a big joke at her unwitting expense. Can you imagine what that moment must have been for her? When it finally all comes together, like the Kobayashi mug-drop in The Usual Suspects except it was somebody’s life.
I learned about Julia Moore years ago and at first found it remarkably funny; a running gag that the whole country can get in on; a 19th century Chuck Norris joke. But I’ve been thinking a lot about her lately in a more empathetic view. Do you ever think that maybe some of the things you do could possibly be quite terrible? Like, for instance, comedy essays? And the support you receive from others are actually attempts to keep the joke going, but you don’t question it because you’re blind to your own shortcomings? Maybe that’s the 4th dimension we just can’t see out of our grasp. Just something to think about. I ordered a copy of The Sentimental Songbook. I framed it as a reminder and keep it on my desk. I’ll close with a small poem from Julia.
“And now kind friends, what I have wrote,
I hope you will pass o’er
And not criticize, as some have done,
Hitherto herebefore.”
Signed,
Michael T. Moore.
It's The Author Media Push!
After months and months of hard work and finally procuring a manuscript in which to publish, most authors are subjected to a media blitz upon publication of their book to create buzz (and therefore, money). Here’s Michael Jenkins, author of Ask Me About My Grandcats giving a rather candid interview with Wayne Kirkpatrick.
Wait, what’s going on?
I’m so glad you asked! I’m Mike Jenkins and I wrote a book of comedy essays. It’s called Ask Me About My Grandcats; it’s full of chuckles. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it.
What do you want?
Well, you know how the publishing business is, Wayne. I have to go parading around and do interviews like this to the mainstream media in order to boost sales. Hey, I don’t want to be here either, but that’s the name of the game. My book is available on Amazon in paperback and E-Book format.
I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have a show! We’re standing behind a 7-11, this is crazy!
7-11, Walgreens, CVS, Wawa, Sheetz, Jiffy Lube, Target, I’ll do it all. No platform is too small when you’re peddling a book, Wayne.
Please put the gun down.
(Sigh) Wayne, that’s not a question. How…how long have you been doing this? God, it’s like amateur hour out here.
Will you please stop pointing that gun at me?
Ah, there we go! I’d love to, but I’m still sensing a little resistance…? So, I’m gonna kind of keep it as is…? I’m sure you understand. Look, I’ve printed out a list of interview questions you can ask me. A little professional courtesy between you and me.
“When--when did you first know you wanted to be a writer?”
Bor-ing! Come on, man. Let’s get our hands dirty. And why are you shaking so much? It’s not chilly out. It’s a beautiful spring day behind the local 7-11!
Uh..Um… “What literary pilgrimages have you gone on?”
Hmmm…(scratches head with barrel of gun)…that’s a good question. “Literary Pilgrimages.” Ummm… I’m sorry, I can’t answer that question without sounding like a pretentious asshole. You understand.
“Does your family support your career as a writer?”
(Wincing, waving gun) Next question. Next question!
Will you please let me go?
Ha-HA! Oh, Wayne, I love this banter! What a dynamic we have! Unfortunately, I have answered that question way too many times today, but this is good. We’re having fun.
“How do you celebrate the completion of a book?”
Now there’s a question! Back at my place I have a book-release party planned with various folks, including some A-list celebrities. I’m talking party hats, I’m talking kazoos, I’m talking sparklers…
A-list celebrities?
If that guy holding religious signs outside the local Shell gas station isn’t considered A-list, I don’t want to know who is. Want to stop by? I still have to go inside the Sev and get some slurpees. It’s going to get crazy up in there!
You know I’m going to call the cops once this is over, right?
See, I want to believe you…? But I think I’ve charmed my way into your better judgement. I’m going to give you my address anyway.
This is a good idea.
I just want to go home and hug my family.
Bring them along! I live above the local hearing-aid place on Main Street. Front-view apartment, no big deal. Oh Christ, are you crying?
You’re just so sad…
See you at the party, Wayne!
Wait, what’s going on?
I’m so glad you asked! I’m Mike Jenkins and I wrote a book of comedy essays. It’s called Ask Me About My Grandcats; it’s full of chuckles. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it.
What do you want?
Well, you know how the publishing business is, Wayne. I have to go parading around and do interviews like this to the mainstream media in order to boost sales. Hey, I don’t want to be here either, but that’s the name of the game. My book is available on Amazon in paperback and E-Book format.
I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have a show! We’re standing behind a 7-11, this is crazy!
7-11, Walgreens, CVS, Wawa, Sheetz, Jiffy Lube, Target, I’ll do it all. No platform is too small when you’re peddling a book, Wayne.
Please put the gun down.
(Sigh) Wayne, that’s not a question. How…how long have you been doing this? God, it’s like amateur hour out here.
Will you please stop pointing that gun at me?
Ah, there we go! I’d love to, but I’m still sensing a little resistance…? So, I’m gonna kind of keep it as is…? I’m sure you understand. Look, I’ve printed out a list of interview questions you can ask me. A little professional courtesy between you and me.
“When--when did you first know you wanted to be a writer?”
Bor-ing! Come on, man. Let’s get our hands dirty. And why are you shaking so much? It’s not chilly out. It’s a beautiful spring day behind the local 7-11!
Uh..Um… “What literary pilgrimages have you gone on?”
Hmmm…(scratches head with barrel of gun)…that’s a good question. “Literary Pilgrimages.” Ummm… I’m sorry, I can’t answer that question without sounding like a pretentious asshole. You understand.
“Does your family support your career as a writer?”
(Wincing, waving gun) Next question. Next question!
Will you please let me go?
Ha-HA! Oh, Wayne, I love this banter! What a dynamic we have! Unfortunately, I have answered that question way too many times today, but this is good. We’re having fun.
“How do you celebrate the completion of a book?”
Now there’s a question! Back at my place I have a book-release party planned with various folks, including some A-list celebrities. I’m talking party hats, I’m talking kazoos, I’m talking sparklers…
A-list celebrities?
If that guy holding religious signs outside the local Shell gas station isn’t considered A-list, I don’t want to know who is. Want to stop by? I still have to go inside the Sev and get some slurpees. It’s going to get crazy up in there!
You know I’m going to call the cops once this is over, right?
See, I want to believe you…? But I think I’ve charmed my way into your better judgement. I’m going to give you my address anyway.
This is a good idea.
I just want to go home and hug my family.
Bring them along! I live above the local hearing-aid place on Main Street. Front-view apartment, no big deal. Oh Christ, are you crying?
You’re just so sad…
See you at the party, Wayne!
