To explain why I haven’t blogged in over a year, it’s necessary to mention the video. And to do justice to the story of the video, I need to tell the story of how my adventures in book marketing began. And that means going back.

I’ll try not to make this one of those “I got screwed by the man” stories, because that’s not what happened. I feel very lucky to have found a publisher for my book–and a good one at that–so there are no sour grapes on my end. The people involved in this adventure are all good smart folk with noble intentions, as most people in the book industry are. But they are struggling, as the whole industry is struggling, to understand how to generate awareness for their products when the media landscape they once knew has been turned upside down. In this environment, the old William Goldman axiom about Hollywood, “Nobody knows anything,” is certainly appropriate. I’ll save deeper analysis for others. My goal is just to tell the story.  Here goes …

I’ll start in 2008. Or, no, it was 2007. Late August. That’s it. I was in New York to meet with the marketing team of my publisher William Morrow for the first time. My editor and agent had told me to come prepared. These days, authors are being asked to carry more and more of the marketing load for their own books. Arriving in New York with a telegenic smile and a head full of ideas could go a long way toward generating momentum and enthusiasm in the marketing department.

So, I prepared. I walked into the meeting ready to impress, armed with ideas for catchy taglines and web marketing campaigns centered around strategically placed teaser ads. Perhaps I was naive to think that the book of a first time author in a notoriously risky genre was going to get much of a marketing budget, but so what? I was green and hopeful. I told them my ideas–most of them low cost ideas–all of which they listened to politely.

Then, it was their turn. It was pretty exciting for me to think that these people I’d never met before had been having meetings and making plans all because of something I wrote. I felt like a celebrity. And I was curious. What did these marketing professionals have planned for me? Well … they told me they were very excited. A novel like The Scandal Plan gives them much more to work with (particularly in an election year) than your average book does. And even though the budget for my book would be small, they were confident we could do a lot with what we had. Great!

Our conversation would cover many topics including the creation of a web presence, interactions with social media, and the one thing my team seemed to agree was their ace in the hole. It was a brilliant strategy that had the potential to create mass awareness for my book. In one word:

Plastics.

Wait. Wrong word. And, actually, it was two words.  Here they are:

Viral video.

We were going to make one or more funny “viral videos” to spread awareness across the internet. Sounds very sexy, no? We make a brilliantly funny short video, put it on YouTube, and it gets gets passed around to 3 million people. Nice!

Now tell me, gentle reader, do you see the flaw in this brilliant plan yet? I saw it right away. There are over 200 million videos on YouTube, few of which get seen by more than a handful of people. The problem with making a so called “viral video” is that millions of other people across the world are also trying to make “viral videos,” and everybody is competing for attention. Making a successful viral video is like capturing lightning in a bottle. Still, it is the new sexy wave of the future, so that’s why everyone in the book business is trying to do it. Every book that is published these days, now must have what they call a “book trailer.”

Never heard of a book trailer? You’re not alone. Here’s the big secret that nobody in the publishing industry wants to admit: nobody watches book trailers. Nobody, that is, except for other people in the publishing industry. Want to know why nobody watches book trailers? Because most of them suck. Don’t believe me? Google book trailers and see what comes up. Better yet, go to a book trailer site like this one and start watching. The problem is that even when a book trailer does not suck outright, it is rarely worth forwarding. Usually, this is because the trailer is either unremarkable, unfunny, or feels too much like advertising. “Old Spice” commercials aside, we generally don’t like to send videos to our friends if we feel those videos are trying to sell us something. We want our viral videos to feel as if they exist solely to entertain us; we don’t like ulterior motives. In conclusion, while it is not impossible to make a book trailer that goes viral, it is damn hard, and in order to do it, you need . . .
A brilliant idea.

CUT TO ME IN THE MARKETING MEETING

ME
So what’s the idea for this video?

MARKETING PERSON
Oh, you’re a filmmaker. I’m sure you’ll
think of something great.

ME
(trying to sound upbeat)
Okay. I can give it a shot. My only concern
is that it sounds like your brilliant idea is
that I need to come up with a brilliant idea.

(awkward laughter)

And dammit, I tried. I racked my brain to come up with an idea that was brilliant enough to go viral. But I couldn’t crack it. Now, don’t get me wrong, I came up with a lot of good ideas, legitimately funny ideas for legitimately funny videos, and I sent each of these ideas along to marketing. But I knew none of them were good enough. Either they felt too much like advertising or they weren’t true to the spirit of the book or they were simply good but not great. I didn’t have my brilliant idea, and I knew it.

While I was trying to get my brilliant idea, I kept busy. I designed this web site you are currently visiting (which, given my meager technical skills, took a long damn time). I also created a Facebook group and an all-important MySpace profile (because just think of how many books you read because the author has a cool MySpace page. No?).

The MySpace thing was funny too. NewsCorp, which owns MySpace, also owns HarperCollins, my publisher–which I was told gave me a real leg up in terms of MySpace visibility. I was told that my MySpace page could be linked to and featured on various HarperCollins pages, and that this was just the start of all they could do for me in the wonderful world of MySpace. In the end, to the best of my knowledge, none of this magical MySpace stuff ever happened despite my friendly reminders. But, no worries. Again, is MySpace really a book selling powerhouse? Exactly. The focus would remain on viral video and our search for a still elusive brilliant idea.

MARKETING PERSON
We know a funny writer. Can we
pay him to take a crack at the video?

ME
Sure. Why not?

Horrible. Horrible. Horrible. If my ideas ranged from decent to good, this writer’s scripts ranged from terrible to embarrassing. Still, I had to put a pleasant face on things. If my marketing team had enthusiasm, I didn’t want to squelch it completely. So, I wrote a diplomatic e-mail, explaining that I didn’t think we had found our brilliant idea yet. I then outlined what was wrong with each script. I dismissed the first two scripts with fairly unyielding criticism. For the third, I went into more detail. Here is an excerpt of my comments on script 3:

“#3: Not funny as is. With the right context, this could be funny, but it will be a challenge to avoid making this joke feel labored and preachy. I think there are two ways to make this idea funnier.” —Here I set up alternative strategies in great detail. Then I conclude– “Can this be funny ENOUGH to go viral?  I’m not sure. I just pitched it to my girlfriend, and she said, “sounds sleazy without being funny.” Not a great sign, as she usually finds me funnier than most people do. To be fair, I think this can be better in the execution. But better enough? That’s the question.”

I had made the mistake of leaving an opening. And because the marketing team had already invested some of our meager budget on these book trailer scripts, they were hoping they could still get something for their money. A week later, I found a revised draft of script 3 in my inbox, and opened it, morbidly curious. Did this writer take my suggestions? Could he have possibly turned this terrible script into something halfway decent?

Er, no. Not only were my suggestions completely ignored, but this new video was both worse AND longer. To top of off, the script was now also offensive to women (who, I’m told, make up a large percentage of the book-buying population). Still, this train wreck of a script came with a very hopeful e-mail from my friend in marketing:

“I’ve attached a script for the video. It’s a solid direction which we are still tweaking, but I’d like to know your thoughts, because we’re at the point where we need to go ahead or cut it all together. I think it has a lot of potential and could be funny as hell done the right way, but give me your thoughts.”

Solid direction? Lots of potential? Funny as hell? Really? Really? How could anyone think this was funny as hell? I WISH I could post this script so you could read it for yourselves because, truly, words fail when it comes to describing its horribleness. Here’s my attempt at a diplomatic-yet-decisive response (note how I once again rely on my wife–then girlfriend–to play bad cop):

“Thanks for sending this on. My response to the sketch: frankly, I think we need to consider cutting our losses and moving on to something else. This script is actually a step backward. My inclination, for the sake of diplomacy is to deconstruct the myriad reasons why this script is the wrong tone, the wrong direction, nonsensical, completely untrue to the spirit of the book, and completely unfunny. But I feel like that would be a waste of your time. I had drafted an original email that started to do that, and then showed the sketch to my girlfriend for her objective opinion. “This is terrible,” she said, “If someone sent this to me, I wouldn’t have watched it for more than a few seconds, and definitely would have stopped the moment they said the word ‘va’juicy.’” And she is 100% correct. Making a viral video means making something that everyone agrees is VERY VERY funny, and that has some sort of universal appeal. Tweaking this puppy will not work.

I don’t think we should let this get us down. I know about very little besides the mechanics of humor, and coming up with this perfect video idea for this book has stumped me big time. Instead, let’s look for other fun ways to exploit our book concept.”

I ended the e-mail with some discussion about other strategies and some “Rah! Rah! Go team!” pleasantries, and that pretty much ended our search for the elusive brilliant viral video idea.

Until . . .

One year later.

The hardcover had come and gone from stores. Reviews were good. Sales were unimpressive. A pretty typical book release all things considered. But we had a second chance at catching fire: the paperback release. And suddenly, mere weeks before the paperback version of The Scandal Plan was about to hit stores, I finally got it:

A brilliant idea.

To be fair, this brilliant idea was a collaborative effort between me and my friend, filmmaker Nick Weiss, and like most brilliant ideas, it did not fall from the sky, but had to be found, shaped, and tweaked. But we eventually got it there in script form: a brilliant viral video idea.

The key was shifting the focus from the book to me. The Scandal Plan is a political satire with a unique premise: A losing candidate fakes his own sex scandal in order to humanize his image, thereby creating a redemption narrative, a comeback story, that he rides all the way to victory. The challenge is: how do you sell that premise in a short video? Do you show an excerpt from the book? Those dramatizations always tend to fall flat. Do you just pitch the premise straight up? That would be fine, but how do you make it funny? I did one sketch where I had Hitler on the Oprah Winfrey show as a candidate for office, showing how, as long as you learn from your mistakes, people will forgive anything. Okay idea, but still a bit of a stretch to get from there to my book.

Our brilliant idea came once I stopped worrying about precisely articulating the concept of the book, but, ironically, the idea captured the essence of the book better than any other previous idea I’d worked with. The video would not be about the book. It would be about me trying to market the book. The idea was to shoot a fake documentary about a struggling author (me) who takes increasingly desperate measures to market his novel. In the end, this author decides to fake his own death to generate publicity, but as he tries to do so, he accidentally kills himself. Dark stuff.

Now, you may not happen to think this idea was so brilliant. Heck, you may have seen the video and hated it. That’s fine. But, at the risk of sounding full of myself, I thought–and still think–it was a damn good idea that turned into a damn good short film. Here’s why I liked it:

a) It was funny. Desperate people do funny things, and because of the structure of the script, events naturally got crazier and crazier. I went from harassing strangers on Hollywood Blvd. to being waterboarded with a fruity beverage, to falling, quite dramatically, off a rooftop.

b) Shock factor. We had it. See above. My family apparently watched the video around the kitchen table in stunned silence.

c) It fit the book. A fake documentary about a fake death that occurred while trying to fake a death to promote a book about a faking a scandal. Perfect.

d) It had a specific audience, but universal appeal. This was a satire, not about politics, but about the publishing industry. Therefore, who was going to love it? Publishing people, booksellers, authors–all people who I wanted to get interested in my book, all people who had the ability to spread the word about my book. But it was also about more than just the publishing industry. It was about the modern artist’s struggle to be heard in a crowded media marketplace, about our universal quest for attention. Therefore, we hoped the video’s appeal would extend beyond the industry.

e) It had a distribution plan. We were borrowing from Blair Witch Project here, but the idea was simple: Spread the rumor that a real author really died, and that this documentary shows what happened. Now, after watching the video, would anyone actually fall for it? Most intelligent people probably wouldn’t. But then most intelligent people didn’t fall for the Blair Witch either, and most intelligent people know that President Obama is not a Muslim. What gives these stories legs is that kernel of doubt. That “This couldn’t be true, could it?” It’s the “could it?” part that is key, the fact that no one can disprove the rumor beyond the shadow of a doubt. We hoped the “could it?” plus the shock factor plus the funny factor would be enough to spread the video around.

Before I get to what actually happened with our project, I must first acknowledge what did not work about the video:

a) It was 10 minutes long.

You might be saying, “Well, there’s your problem right there!”–and I can’t disagree with you. Most viral videos are short, no more than 2-3 minutes. But we thought our movie was good enough and our backstory intriguing enough to make us an exception to the rule. But, again, I’m getting ahead of myself.

I asked my editor at William Morrow for money to help make the movie. Something, anything, even a hundred bucks would help. He’s a nice guy, but he couldn’t help us. While there may have been money for a video to promote the hardcover edition, the paperback had a limited printing and a marketing budget of approximately zero. If this movie was going to happen, it was going to be self-financed. I had a talk with my wife. We agreed on a budget. Nick and I got to work planning our shoot.

We shot the film in 36 crazy hours, and the story of that shoot deserves a post all to itself. Perhaps one of these days, I’ll get around to blogging about it. For now, I will just say that it was a funny, thrilling, cathartic, and immensely enjoyable experience. Nick then spent many hours at his computer editing the movie, far more time than he probably thought was possible when he first signed on to direct. But to hell with book sales, this had become a passion project for both of us.

Finally, it was time to disseminate. We had a death to fake, a movie to spread, and a book to sell. The way we saw it, there was one key to the success of this ruse: everyone had to play along. One of the things that Nick and I were most proud of about the video was that we never winked at the audience. The onscreen accident happened quickly, without warning, and it was treated as 100% real. This was not a book trailer. It was a documentary about an unfortunate incident that actually happened.

Nick, my wife, and my publisher would be the ones to spread the word about my demise. First, I sent an e-mail to my contact list. I didn’t want anyone to be alarmed by the e-mail my wife was about to send, so I let everyone in on the joke. In retrospect, this leap of faith may have been ill advised, but I’m still glad I did it.

Our friends were great. They spread the word. One Harper Collins exec on my list was quick to post the video to her blog. The only problem was: she did not play along with the ruse. Instead, she simply praised it as “a clever short film from first time novelist Bill Folman.” I was flattered, and didn’t immediately tell her to take it down and repost it as a serious news item–which is exactly what I should have done. Regrets, I have a few.

But the real killer was my publisher. I didn’t mind doing all the leg work, didn’t mind paying for the video myself, but I did need them to do me one favor. HarperCollins had contacts. I needed them to spread the word. The problem was: they didn’t want to play along with our fake story. To be more accurate, they didn’t mind playing along, but they were worried about sending out any statement that was an outright lie. Yes, you read that right. A media company owned by Rupert Murdoch was worried about lying.

I plead my case, and eventually ended up playing the waiting game, wondering when I’d hear back from marketing about what was going on. Finally, my editor told me that a press release had gone out. Hallelujah! He gave me a list of media outlets that had received the press release. It was everyone. Every major paper, website, you name it! Wonderful!

Then he sent me the copy.

Whoah.

When I saw the subject line, my heart sank.

FW: Did an author really die taping a book trailer?

I smelled the “cutesy” a mile away. I put myself in the position of any newsman reading that subject line. Did an author really die taping a book trailer? Nah, probably not. I read on anyway:

Dear Colleague,

We wanted to share this very funny book trailer that Bill Folman, author of The Scandal Plan, has put together to publicize the paperback edition of the book. In a hilarious case of life imitating fiction, Folman shows just what scandalous—and disastrous lengths—a writer will go to publicize his book. If only he had learned from his own character’s mistakes!

Here is Bill’s final publicity video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VRNS0I2x3JU

We are deeply saddened by this tragic, yet oddly humorous, twist of fate.

To offer your condolences, or for more information on The Scandal Plan, please feel free to contact me.

I was livid. So much for not winking. I couldn’t squeeze any more winks into a single e-mail if I tried. They referred to the film as a “book trailer.” They basically called it a fake. And that press release went to EVERYBODY. Upon further reflection, it occurred to me that it probably took multiple people and much discussion to come up with such terrible copy. And yet there it was. Blasted across the country. Nothing more could be done.

Now, I can’t claim that if only HarperCollins had listened to me, this film would have been a viral hit. It probably would have attracted more eyeballs, yes, but how many more? And I have no way of knowing whether it would have added up to a single additional book sale. Perhaps it wouldn’t have. I’ll never know. The film did get passed around a bit in literary circles and received a certain amount of praise, but that was as far as it went splash-wise.

Still, though the distribution element did not go exactly as planned, I would make the same film again in a hot second. I loved making it, and I love how it turned out. I think it is one of the best stories I’ve told in any medium. And it gave me a chance to work with my friend Nick and discover a creative partnership I hope to revisit in the future. So shed no tears for me, dear reader. My only regret as I write this is that you cannot currently see the film online.

YOU
What?! You just spend 1800 words talking
about a short film that I can’t even see?
What the hell, dude?

I know, I know. Isn’t that frustrating? I wish it weren’t so. But here’s the problem: I still need a day job. And at the moment, that day job is teaching children. If you’ve seen the video, you know that, while it is dark, there is nothing REALLY offensive or out of bounds about it. Still, some people don’t have much of a sense of humor, and I can’t risk that person being the parent of a child I’m teaching. When I’m teaching 6th graders who like to google my name, I have to err on the side of caution. I look forward to making the video public again the second I become a writer who doesn’t need a secondary source of income.

For now, let me address the question that inspired this post in the first place: why haven’t I blogged in 14 months? It started by design. As you will notice from my last post and this one from June 2008, I was playing into the story of the fake documentary on my blog. Naturally, once I was “dead” I would have to maintain blog silence for a reasonable amount of time. The problem was getting back to blogging once this whole episode had passed.

When I was a student, I never liked keeping a journal because I would always fall behind. Days would pass and then weeks, and I would start to feel pressure. My next entry would have to be brilliant. I would have to spend a solid day writing in order to catch up on all the highlights I had missed. Invariably, that solid day would never come, and my latest attempt at journaling would soon be abandoned.

I felt the same pressure with respect to today’s entry. It’s been one year and two months since my last blog post. Surely, any new posting would have to make mention of this conspicuous absence. That meant mentioning the video. That meant telling the story I just told you. And now I’ve done it. The hurdle has been passed. I can now move on to shorter, less consequential things. Like that latest viral video flying around the web, the one with the bad word in it. You must have seen it by now, I’m sure, but I’ll put the link here anyway.

Brilliant stuff.

For those of you looking to stand on a street corner and handsell your book, I must recommend Hollywood Blvd. in Los Angeles, a couple blocks east of Highland Ave. While I’m not promising you a stunning success rate, I do believe you’ll have some fun, at least so long as you have a sense of humor.  And even if you don’t enjoy yourself, you certainly will have some stories to tell.

This past weekend, I spent time pounding the Hollywood pavement, dressed in my presidential best, handing out fliers to promote my book.  Perhaps the fact that I had a camera crew filming my every move lent me an air of credibility; perhaps it was the suit; probably it was both.  One highlight was when I found myself pitching the book to a girl who was trying to pitch me. She was handing out cards for Psychiatry: An Industry of Death.  This is a museum in Hollywood founded by Scientologists that, needless to say, has a rather negative impression of the psychiatry profession.  When we mentioned to this girl that our documentary was ultimately going to be on YouTube, she mentioned that she was planning on eating a cockroach on YouTube.  Only in LA …

Exciting news. On Friday, The Scandal Plan got a rave mention on one of my favorite radio shows, KCRW’s Left, Right & Center.  Host Matt Miller called the book “a great fun summer political read,” and called me “a big new talent.”  Not too shabby, eh?  Click here to listen (the plug comes at the end of the show, at the 27 minute mark).

The paperback release is coming at a crazy time for me.  The school year is ending and I’m busy preparing for some courses I’ll be teaching this summer.  I’ve also reached a finishing point with my new screenplay (tentatively titled: If You Love Somebody).  I’m very excited about the script, and I think it’s finally ready for the world.  Over the next few weeks, I plan to start soliciting representation out here in LA (if you have any leads, drop me a line).  It’s time to get this screenwriting career rolling.  And I’m hoping to do it all at once for maximum effect.  I definitely want my script going out to agents while my book is still in stores (whichever stores those may be).

I’ll try to blog as these events unfold.  More to come …

The paperback will be coming out on June 2, 2009.  You can pre-order now on Amazon or Barnes & Noble.

* It comes fully charged
* Costs less than a bottle of champagne (the real stuff)
* You can buy at least 10 hardcover books for the price of one iPhone
* Costs less than a movie (with popcorn)
* Around the same price as a DVD, but the experience lasts much longer
* It can change someone’s life
* It can make someone laugh
* Batteries are not required
* It’s a thoughtful gift
* A personal gift
* One-stop shopping-your bookstore has the right gift for everyone on your list
* It weighs much less than a fruitcake
* It’s more original than a tie or a sweater
* It’s a gift of escape, fun, romance, adventure
* It’s easy to find
* It’s easy to wrap
* And you can never have too many

(one slight disclaimer to any of my relatives who might be reading this: I will be in hot water with my wife if I try to bring any more books into our over-crowded apartment, so perhaps this isn’t the best gift for me this year. For other people, however, it’s a perfect gift. I certainly plan on giving a few book gifts myself this year.)

If you happen to be reading my blog and have not yet read my book (a small demographic, I’m sure), you may suspect the book to be quite the polemic–particularly given my last two posts. Rest assured, this is not the case.  I take great pains to avoid beating anyone over the head with a political agenda in my fiction.  The book is meant to be enjoyable for readers of all political persuasions, and my goal as a satirist is to raise questions rather than answer them.  So please forgive me if I get a bit heated in my blog posts these days. We’ve reached that all-too-familiar moment in the political season where I start to fear the rest of the country is living in a different reality than I am, one in which facts are subjective, where up is down and down is up and who wears lipstick is more important than who lives or dies.  It’s crazy season.

I’ve included the text here:

I’ve been waiting for a good sex scandal all summer long. No, I’m not a voyeur or a pervert or a committed schadenfreudist—at least not any more than is socially acceptable—but I am a political satirist with a novel to sell, and as such, the financial and humanitarian sectors of my brain are frequently in conflict.

The Scandal Plan, or: How to Win the Presidency by Cheating On Your Wife, is—not surprisingly—about a sex scandal. A fake one. It’s the story of Senator Ben Phillips, a straight-laced, over-qualified, under-exciting Democratic presidential candidate in the tradition of Al Gore and John Kerry. He’s got great ideas, but you wouldn’t want to have a beer with him—and that’s why he’s getting killed in the polls. His campaign’s brilliant solution is to invent a sex scandal. Not a big one. Just a long-ago indiscretion that can be discovered: something the senator will have learned from, something he can bounce back from, something that can humanize him, something that might make him the tiniest bit cooler. Needless to say, nothing goes as planned.

To write a political satire is to be constantly looking over your shoulder. Is my story still relevant? What if Candidate X wins? What about Candidate Y? How does today’s news affect my story? Jon Stewart has it easy. He takes yesterday’s headlines and skewers them on tonight’s show. Guaranteed freshness. With my book, it took four and a half years for the original idea to travel from conception to publication – the satirical equivalent of firing a bullet into a time machine and crossing your fingers. I don’t recommend it.

The slow motion birth of this novel has often filled me with conflicting emotions, most notably in the wake of the 2004 election. I was crushed (crushed!) by John Kerry’s loss. But not completely. While I was convinced that another four years of George W. Bush would be devastating for the country (and the world), while this depressed me like nobody’s business, I couldn’t ignore that tiny guilty voice in my head that whispered: “This is really good for your book! This is confirmation of every argument you make! This means you have a real chance of being published!”

Such is the satirist’s dilemma: what’s good for business is usually bad for humanity.

Throughout this process, I’ve found comfort by telling myself that the underlying themes of my novel (our need to relate to our elected officials, our craving for redemption narratives, our preference for style over substance, the compromises we make in the name of ambition) are all fairly timeless. I also remind myself that this book is a fast-paced comic adventure first, and a satire second. The characters—a pubescent political reporter working for a teenybopper magazine, the campaign manager who has regular conversations with God, the over-sexed middle-aged bombshell who can’t find Mr. Right, the presidential candidate still hung up on high school, and the linguistically challenged Mexican chauffeur who thinks he’s James Bond—their appeal is not affected by the whims of the current news cycle.

Still, my eyes are glued to CNN. And when Hillary’s tears remind voters how important it is for a candidate to be perceived as “human,” or when John McCain is suspiciously linked to a female lobbyist on the front page of the New York Times, I view these events through the lens of my book.

That’s why I’ve been waiting for a sex scandal, and now I’ve finally got one. I was sad that it had to be John Edwards at the center of this particular spectacle because I had always liked him and his wife. But a sex scandal was a sex scandal, and attention had to be paid.

Was the Edwards situation a precise echo of the premise of my book? No. There were eerie parallels, to be sure, but differences as well. Never mind that; sometimes you must go to press with the scandal you have, not the scandal you want. That’s why, as soon as the John Edwards story hit the news, I e-mailed my publicist: “What can we do with this? Can this help us?” I frantically wrote an article for the Huffington Post relating the scandal to my book and offering pointers for future politicians on how to make the most of their own sex scandals.

Do I feel bad about trying to use the Edwards family’s embarrassment to try to shine a light on my book? Yes. Would I have done anything differently? No. Because even with a major publisher and great reviews, a political satire by a first-time novelist like myself does not have the luxury of an advertising budget. Such books are considered—surprise, surprise—too big a risk. That’s why I must take every opportunity I can get.

It remains to be seen whether the escapades of John Edwards will actually influence my book sales or whether any pundits or bloggers will pick up on the parallels and decide to give the subject their attention. Either way, I will remain absorbed by political news for the remainder of the 2008 election and beyond. Because I care passionately about the state of our country and our world. Because, above all else, I want what is best for humanity. And because the paperback version of The Scandal Plan comes out next June, and I want a bigger apartment.