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professorjeff's Blog

• The Book Moves Forward: Promoting and Marketing

  2008 Feb 07

  I've gotten a few new blurbs for my novel (Black Body Radiation and the Ultraviolet Catastrophe) from academies and professionals. I'm currently waiting to hear back from several book review journals, such as The Bloomsbury Review, New York Review of Books and New York Books.
  
  Bottom line? This self-publishing is a lot of work, trial and error, but the only reason I keep at it is because the book is worth it. Probably the most unique book going. You look at me and say, "What a conceit!" No. Let's go with, "What an old dude who's been around the block, has a lot of experience, and knows what he's talking about sans any stupid, self-inflated fantasy or lack of reality trip." That enough? I've read hundreds of books. I've taught hundreds of writing classes. Read thousands of poorly written papers that I've corrected ad infinitum to the point where I can see a bad phrase coming a mile away. I've been so over exposed to the bad that I'm super sensitive to the good. I know good when I see it and there's just not a lot out there. Good meaning original, inspiring, insightful, great . . . gosh darn, downright one-of-a-kind, kick-ass writing. And here is where Black Body Radiation and the Ultraviolet Catastrophe lives.
  
  Of course it's not perfect and not everybody is going to love it (One reviewer said, "I don't know, something's missing." She never said what and even erased her review so maybe she had a change of heart.) But overall, this book rocks. I remember brining a portion of it to a graduate seminar and someone said "It's kind of like The Celestine Prophecy but better written." I've had readers say "It's amazing" and "It reminds me of Paolo Coelho's The Alchemist. This is an important book." And so on.
  
  I know it's good. My readers know it's good. My reviewers know it's good. Now I just have to get a couple million or so exposed to it so they can see that which others have seen. And of course that comes down to marketing. And have I learned A LOT about marketing in the last year or so. I've used PRWeb to no avail, article directories, writer vanity websites, on and on. But I know it's just a matter of time. Hell, Frank Herbert went to every known publisher before he had an automotive publisher (yes, an automotive publisher) publish his book and the rest is history.
  
  So it's there, the book that is. Now I just have to get it to the world. It will happen, for I know it's uniqueness and it's message waits a needy and tiring world looking not for cold comfort but change, a move away from merely existing on a darkened orb within a life that is snuffed out all too short regardless of how long one lives. People sense that there's something more. They know that in the nature of man-- and woman kind bubbles and sparkles an eternal essence. They want to believe. It's just that they need the push, the spark, the enlightenment and explanation of marvelous metaphor to spark an eternal sparkle of wonderment and hope that lies at the center of all hearts of hope aching and pining for sweet release. God bless. And God bless BBRATUC.
  
  

• 2007 Jun 04

  Well, the work goes on. It's been pod-cast interviews, press releases, letters to the famous for endorsements, seeking joint ventures, creating web pages, virtual book tours, interviewing others for exposure, and so on.
  
  It's a lot of work but it can be done, if you believe. Like Red Sox fans everywhere, like the Hero Boy in Polar Express, like Dorothy as she clicked, clicked, clicked her heals home you too can find success. However, you have to believe for it to happen. I have seen miracles throughout my life and I know that a force greater than me is there helping me find what I need at every turn, my wife, a family to love and who loves, the airport (getting my wife there on time to bring her family to America after getting lost and only following the intuitive voice within to find the airport, the terminal, and the airline without outside assistance). Time and time and time again I have seen miracles come into my life, confirming that we are (as my novel states) more of the emotional than the rational. The emotional / spiritual is primary, for we may be limited in our intellectual attempts to solve issues of great complexity but we are never wrong (aren't humans innately perfectionists? always seeking the better, the best?) when we reach out with compassion.
  
  Consider that at our deathbeds the major points of concern for most is whether they've been loved or have loved. Few seek more degrees, time at the office, another material possession, more cash. What else is there but compassion, compassion, compassion.
  
  

• Moving Forward

  2007 May 23

  Interesting to note here the movement / positive you get in life as you give. Learn to receive and earn to give, as in receiving is fundamental (give to the self, better the self, make the self whole then you are able to give to others) then the universe / God will help you earn so that you can give more. Yes, this is the essence. And why are we here? Well, we've come to this planet as flunkies to learn what we need (things emotional / spiritual / human) to move onto a higher plain. The graduates live elsewhere. And it looks like they're having fun, yes.
  
  Interesting that as my learning advances, I find that most of that out there that is being taught by the self-helpers (financial, spiritual, emotional) I've already learned--about 90%. And this falls in line with my philosophy, that one needs to turn to the inner voice (atman) that which is connected to the outer voice (Brahman) and you will be instructed in all things needful by the Great Oversoul faster, more personally and powerfully and timely and efficient than all the self help books that you could slog through in the little available time you have between working, family, and fun. Dig. Get out there and tap into the eternal. It's waiting to teach. Ask it and it will come. Dig.
  
  
  

• It's time to promote!

  2007 May 01

  OK, so it's finally done and now the promotion: the radio interviews, the podcasts (I'll be the evil A&R exec. on the Switchblade Kittens podcast--coming soon! Here I'm even allowed to promote my book, shamelessly, with lines like "Well, I may be evil, but not as evil as the character in my novel Black Body Radiation and the Ultraviolet Catastrophe!" Yes, now THAT's theater! http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=4106520
  
  Anyway, the book has been approved for universal (dominance!) distribution and the leg work has begun. I'll keep you updated
  .
  

• A true poem

  2006 Mar 03

  Convention is Suspect
  
  Question yourself
  Trust only what others say about you
  Johnny Beatific
  
  Before sanctifying quantum mechanics,
  Evolution, your religion of choice,
  Dismiss these opinions, place them
  On the back burner and turn up the heat.
  
  Anything that makes sense
  Put in a folder marked Pending.
  Withdraw all your money and give it
  To the neighborhood prophet, the one
  You run from screaming each day.
  
  Ask your youngest about the latest on afterlife.
  Get your dog his slippers and paper.
  Not the Times! He's got a pad on the
  Pulse of a blue chip market.
  
  When lunching in public, chew loudly, burp often.
  Leave dinner for other functions.
  For breakfast, give yourself a break.
  
  When driving keep your eyes off the road.
  When walking try your hands instead.
  Open a door for the advantaged.
  Tell the needy to do the same.
  
  If at any point you find yourself
  Laughing uncontrollably
  Look for me.
  I'm the one breaking bread
  With Buddha, Groucho,
  And Nietzsche the whimsical one.
  
  
  

• hrmph priff mrufff

  2006 Mar 03

  OK, it's been a while, so I'd just like to say . . . ahhhhh . . . errrrrrr . . . What am I to say?
  
  Am I supposed to impresses you, bore you, undress you with the steamy aura of my scintillating, sexy, full, one of a kind life? wife? OK, the wife maybe, but the life? Jeeeesh? Come on! I'm a writer. Ever see what a writer does? Oh . . . errrr . . . right. Write. You've seen it. Write. Two. Five. Six. Nine. Ten. Eleven hours a day. Boring.
  
  Well, I guess I could talk about what I'm writing. What's coming up. My book tour, signing. Boring. Who cares? I don't. Should you? Jeeesh.
  
  Let's talk about stuff that matters. People suffering. Starving. Dying. Crying. Mending. Bending. And. Flowing. Let's talk about helping each other. Hugging. Supporting. Lifting. Smiling. Sighing. Want to see a picture of my reason for reason. Well, one of them. Here is.
  
  
  
  Awwwwwww now, what's he need boys? A hug. What you need boys. A hug. What you need girls. A hug. What we all need . . . that's right. You feelin' it. I am your neighbor! Give me some sugar. I knew you would. Shake it like a polaroid pizza . . .
  

• Day Two

  2005 Mar 29

  "OK, so I get a day with your car, no questions asked, if I come up with a thought provoking title for the essay?"
  
  "Right," said professor jeff, "no questions asked."
  
  A buzz swept the room. The boys quipped and the girls coiffured (nothing bothered the girls).
  
  "I'll say . . .”
  
  Much a pause. Much a buzz.
  
  “I’ll say . . . The Mirror Broke Because the Teacher Spoke.”
  
  Professor j traced his childhood rife with misbegotten opportunities, where his father could have stepped in and reinforced so pro. j didn’t have to vicariously release through Aerosmith’s “Rats in the Cellar,” or pound running backs with shoulders and arms tense with years of rejection, or be the biggest, badest, meanest, best build English literature professor ever to sashay with sentence sense, sling a noun or jury-rig a gerund.
  
  “Er . . . er . . . ,” professor j grunted with Klingon intensity.
  
  The boys stiffened. The girls hair relaxed into place.
  
  “You’ve got a point there, but it’s covered by your hair.”
  
  Pro. j had once again allowed his anger to take the sashay from his prose away.
  
  
  
  

• The Beauty and the Beast . . . Just a Few Short Years Ago

  2005 Mar 29

  
  The Boys Celebrate the Event
  

• 2005 Mar 17

  Library Life
  
  My friend 14-Day was going on 13.
  Was it scared? Its story may enlighten.
  When just a booklet someone put
  heavy-duty cloth tape on its spine. It knew why
  and dreamed of diverse fingertip pulp caresses,
  assorted thumbs separating page after page.
  Most of its kind reveled in their flashy covers, but
  14-Day wore its plain durable stock with pride.
  Its state university stamp wasn't even Harvard or Yale,
  but at least 14-Day didn't live like cousin One Week,
  who sat in the state penitentiary being mauled by
  Malice, Head Case, Jitters and Never Set Bail.
  
  Due dates stamped on the inside front cover
  were generally only months apart,
  but here and there I noticed 14-Day
  sometimes sat shelved for the better part of a year.
  Much longer and one was in danger of being put away.
  What did 14-Day do untouched for all those months?
  Why, pray to the stored god for absolution, of course.
  For if one remains in the open stacks it can be seen
  life is sustained by caresses from endless chance glances.
  
  JPB, can't you see?
  
  
  

• Day One

  2005 Mar 17

  He'd just been told by his students that it's time for a break.
  
  He said, "No break! You haven't read the material, and, as a matter of fact, from now on you'll be quizzed every day before class making you accountable for each day's reading assignment."
  
  They said, "Right, and you know what you're talking about. Maybe you should write something . . . and then teach."
  
  Much tittering.
  
  Spinning, twisting, leaping, ducking, general escape tactics . . .
  
  Out the door, hot on their heels he was heard to say, "Yeah, and someday a coma will once again NOT be an acceptable collegiate response!"
  
  Hee! Hee! Hee! Hee!