How does a writer know they have been granted access to that group of elites whose writing will be bestowed great accolades solely by virtue of the fact that said writer wrote it? Is it by getting to the #1 spot on the New York Times Bestsellers list? Is it when they must dunk their hand in ice for three days following each book signing session? Is it when they are interviewed on a total of fifty SiriusXM channels? (Considering how much space they must fill, that last qualification probably isn’t all that hard to achieve. Just call them up and tell them you’re willing to be interviewed. It doesn’t matter who you are, I’m sure they’ll leap at the opportunity.)
While
all of these things are certainly enjoyable and gratifying, I think that there
are two apparent ways to verify whether one is in this exclusive club: The
Bryson and The Clancy.
We
shall first deal with The Bryson. I’m going to take a look at some of his his
books first, and we’ll see where we go from there.
The
Lost Continent was published in 1989.
If you manage to get past the overly busy cover, you may note that the author’s
name is no more than a small note near the title. The Mother Tongue (not
pictured) came out in 1990. Even then, the O
of “Mother” is a good 33% larger than that of “Bryson”. His sequel to this was Made
in America, published in 1994. Here, the title name is bigger too, so I
guess we won’t blame the publisher for pumping up the size of the author’s name
too. Then we get to his next published book, called Bill Bryson,
authored by Notes from a Small Island.
“Oh,” you say, “you just made a mistake, SLiM. I thought we were dealing with
books by Bryson, not about Bryson.” To which I may likely respond (if you are
kind enough to send me your comment so I can
respond to your negative conclusion) “No, the publisher made a mistake.”
It
continues thusly.
Wow,
all these different guys had to write their own biography on Bryson? Maybe it’s
a series; one is a short history of nearly everything about him, while one
deals exclusively with tales of his domestic achievements!
Okay,
probably not. More likely Mr. Bryson hit The Bryson, which makes a lot of sense
if you think about it. The Bryson, as summarized by some prestigious society,
is:
When an author’s name is printed larger
than the title of the piece written, said writer has reached The Bryson.
Once
an author accomplishes this, the doors are wide open for him, for he hath arrived. Let’s say Mr. Bryson is sitting
around at home, when suddenly the idea occurs to him to write a 400-page book
on the history and proper techniques of radish farming. All he has to do now is
jot some random blathering on a page and send it off to the publisher, who will
get back to him in a week with a cover like this:
It
will then hit the shelves. CNN, ABC, and NPR will all be rushing to be the
first to interview Bryson on his new book. Reviews will be gushing with
“Bryson’s only flaw here is that he only covers radishes,” and “In that
inimitable style, Bill has done it again!” Thirty copies of it will be in your
local library within the week, and by the time you get to putting in an order
for it, you will actually have to wait upwards of ten months before you can get
to it. Fans will be swooning in the streets, the police will be rushing to
clean up the mess left by a truck bombed while carrying 15,000 copies of Radishing
Around, and hoodlums dressed as turnip-zombies roaming the streets with
their shirts off will be reported by the dozen.
But
ask anyone what the book is about. If they manage to get that correct, ask them
if they read the whole thing. And they still respond yes, chances are they would
fail to extol it under hypnosis.
Please
note that I don’t mean to bash Bryson. All I’m saying is that The Bryson is a
sure sign that one could get away with a Radishing Around if they
wanted to. This is in contrast to The
Clancy, which is in and of itself a little unethical. I’ll be getting to that
soon.
Keep
in mind, by the way, it doesn’t count as The Bryson if you have your name
larger than the title on the cover just to say you have arrived.
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