Jay Clark's Blog - Posts Tagged "john-green"

1. Write “Sorry I’m not John Green, haha!” in someone’s perfectly adequate Jay Clark book.

2. Get Starbucks on someone’s book and then pretend it’s on purpose because of all the Starbucks references in Finding Mr. Brightside.

3. Remember that Importance of Eye Contact article I read once on a terrible website — Forbes.com, maybe? — and then stare aggressively into the irises of an innocent customer.

4. Draw a smiley face that doesn’t look very happy and then overcompensate by giving it hair, ears, and an inappropriate tongue, all the while wishing I could delete it. :/

5. Mistake a browsing customer for a fan — “Hey, you, thanks for coming!!!” — and force them to take a selfie with me.

6. Secretly consume a Clif Bar like an up-to-no-good hyena between social interactions because I didn’t eat enough for lunch.

7. Get Clif Bar chocolate on my pants and try to dab it away using the watery sweat from my Starbucks cup.

Getting people to care about stuff is hard. Getting them to care about your book? Haaaaaard, oh, MAN, it’s so hard. Not that I’m complaining. How could I when I’m so busy planning the below awesomely bad book publicity stunts for Finding Mr. Brightside?

In fact, if these ideas don’t cannonball the FMB paperback straight to the top of the NYT best-seller’s list, then that makes a lot of sense ... but it ain’t over till the guy dressed up in the foam book costume sings outside of Barnes & Noble (see idea 2).

1. Challenge readers to a game of “Strip Author,” whereby every time they buy a copy of Finding Mr. Brightside, I remove an article of clothing.
Pros:
-Shirtlessness sells—gawk no further than Channing Tatum!
-No such thing as bad publicity (?)
-I’ll still respect myself in the morning
Cons:
-Would need to layer up to prolong the inevitable, and I get hot easily
-Are my abs more Magic Dork than Mike?

2. Dress up in a foam book costume and flag down cars in front of bookstore. Dive or sing if necessary. Something like: “Come take a ride with Finding Mr. Brightside. Then let me teach you the electric slide.” This sounds more like a rap, but stay tuned.
Pros:
-Everyone loves a gimmick made of foam and paint chemicals
-Has Pitbull cameo written all over it
-Good karma from other books sold besides mine
Cons:
-Turning myself into possible hit-and-run victim
-Potential to be arrested and charged with Unnecessary Self-Embarrassment in a Public Forum

3. Lie down in grass, call someone important at my publishing house (e.g., the directory robot lady), and talk loudly about the importance of grassroots marketing.

Pros:
-Strong word of mouth
-It’s all about networking, baby
-Vitamin D if the sun’s out
Cons:
-Ants in pants
-Possible spider sightings
-Feels like it’s been done before but the author didn't utilize the grass/grassroots irony in a blog

4. Increase how fast I talk, wear glasses, and pretend I’m a cousin of John Green—the fact that we’re both authors is just a crazy coincidence, it’s like The Parent Trap all over again!

Pros:
-Who doesn’t love John Green’s mysterious cousin?
-Industry types will respect me for keeping this quiet and trying to make it on my own first

Cons:
-May eventually require John Green's cooperation
-Swirl of controversy and televised cousin-confirming blood test may overshadow the book itself

5. Create no-budget Vine videos with my mom to reach an untapped market of "readers" who just happen to be taking a break from books to watch videos over and over again, as if in a trance.

Pros:
-Proven mother/son track record that dates back to grade-school candy sales
-Four words: Mom’s Cousin Itt impersonation
-The kitchen sink doesn’t fall far from the tree, and Mom and I can take turns throwing it

Cons:
-Logistics: Mom lives an hour away and won’t travel in snowy weather, … as well as most other types of weather
-Already tried this with minimal interest on the part of Vine viewers

What about you, my friends? Got any awesomely bad publicity stunts for me to try? I'm all ears underneath this foam book costume.

Yours allegedly,

John Green's cousin, Jay

My wife and I are going to have our baby ANY DAY NOW. Well, she is. I’m going to hunch over her bedside and whisper supportive-nothings into her ear. Things like, “Sorry, honey, wow, oh jeeeezy, did that one hurt?” and “What’s that? You hate everything about me right now? I get it, but I love you.” and “Aw, $**#, what was that? I’ll buy you a David Yurman bracelet to make up for it!”

And that's not all. I'll also be politely declining to cut the cord. Sounds like I’ll have my hands full, too.

This baby has other ideas about the delivery day proceedings, though. Ideas like, “Sorry, guys, NOT GONNA HAPPEN.” Nope, it’s in absolutely no rush to abdicate its parasitic throne inside Mommy’s body, which is giving Daddy a lot more time to do what Daddy does best: Create a paranoia loop inside my head.

Here are a few of the what-if’s I’m mulling over:

- What if I ruin the baby?
- What if I can’t figure out the car seat and we never get to take the baby home — it just has to live in the hospital gift shop forever as a cautionary car seat mascot?
- What if I look away for one second and that’s all it takes for the baby to vanish into a Mary Higgins Clark novel?
- What if the baby takes one peek-a-boo at Daddy and says to himself/herself: “NEXT!!!”?
- What if the baby is a boy? Or a girl? Or, just as I’ve suspected all along, an alien?
- What if it’s a Golden Retriever? (Yay!)
- What if we choose the wrong name and the baby has to go through an awkward name change process at the tender age of 18 months?
- What if I quickly get the hang of the baby and start giving out smug parenting advice to innocent bystanders at Babies R Us (“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice you’re purchasing the wrong Boppy pillow.”)?
- What if I start posting pictures of the baby on Facebook and I get a big head about it being showered with what I eagerly describe to anyone who’ll listen as "international baby adoration"?
- What if the baby doesn’t get the baby modeling contract it deserves?
- What if I’m tired for the rest of my life?
- What if I can’t complain about being tired because Mommy always has me beat in that department?
- What if I love the baby so much that it feels like I’m going to die from love but at the same time I have to make myself invincible because the baby needs me?
- What if somebody drops the baby and then, after confirming the baby’s okay, I have to body slam them so they can see what it feels like and then do it again for emphasis while yelling, "NOT SO FUN IS IT, FUMBLE FINGERS?"
- What if I’m a tad too overprotective?
- What if I forget to put sunscreen on the baby and then the baby comes back from our walk looking like a sad, neglected baby lobster?
- What if my bod turns into a Dad bod and I start making self-deprecating Dad jokes about it (“Who wants to see Big Daddy’s 1-Pack?!”)?
- What if the baby questions the legitimacy of my being John Green’s long-lost cousin?
- What if this baby is the best thing that ever happens to us?

Call me crazy, but I'm not one to take advantage of celebrity perks. I’m one to declare myself a celebrity-by-association and watch the perks fall into my lap. There's a difference. And also a sameness.

Who do I think I am, exactly? I’m John Green’s Alleged Long-Lost Cousin (JGALLC), to be exact. And ever since I kicked off this (awesomely bad) publicity stunt a month or so ago for the second or third time, people have been treating me the way I deserve to be treated: like Alleged Cousin Royalty.

Here are a few examples of my recent red carpet treatments courtesy of John Green's coattails:

- Just this morning I was trying to merge onto a freakishly busy highway when a star-struck guy in an SUV impatiently honked on his horn and slammed on his brakes to let me through. If not for my status as JGALLC, I’d probably be (a celebrity) at the bottom of a cliff right now.

- Also this morning: an Amazon distributor offered me a free pair of underwear in exchange for an honest review that's positive enough to net me more free stuff. Which reminds me that I need to change my Amazon username to John_Green’s_Alleged_Long-Lost_Cousin. If that one's not available, I’ll go with TheRealJohnGreensAllegedCousin. Regardless, I'm looking forward to completing this low-priority task while wearing a complimentary pair of gray boxer-briefs.

- This past Tuesday the lady in front of me at Starbucks paid for my drink — coincidence, or did she recognize the John Greenish gleam of nerdy awesomeness I was forcing into my eye? Who knows, but my free trente cold brew was delicious.

- A cop pulled me over for (alleged!) speeding a few weeks ago, but thank G John Green's my alleged cousin, because I was able to allege my way out of it like a true faux-celebrity. I also blamed the ravenous appetite of my then-pregnant wife for the temporary uptick in MPH and the cop’s wife happened to be pregnant, too … but still, my Green-given fame was palpable throughout.

- I was getting a library card the other day and — I swear I’m not just saying this — the librarian was being a weeeeee bit more helpful to me than everyone else in line. There was no one else in line at the time — I’ll give you that — but I suspect that made the alleged John Green pheromones on my skin all the more publicly intoxicating.

- During my daily run it seems like every time I jog past someone — usually a Golden Retriever — they turn their head as if they recognize me from (a best-selling book jacket) somewhere. Am I famous, or woof?