In my last blog I outlined one of my outside the box schemes to promote my book. It involved going back to my old alma mater. The plan essentially boiled down to finding a student who was a whiz at social media. As a member of the Twitter universe, I now follow and am followed by over 200 twitterers (or is it tweeters? Possibly twits? Or maybe nitwits). I’ve probably read a dozen tweets and sent out about twenty; I doubt I have sold one book through my tweets.
Okay, so I’m back on campus. Then what? I start walking around campus and look for the nerdiest kid?
What do I say?
“Hey there young man/woman. Do you like to do the tweet? Would you mind tweeting for me? If you’re good, I’ll even pay you.”
In that scenario, I see myself being arrested for solicitation.
Maybe I should just walk up to the prettiest girl I find, and offer to buy her a cup of coffee, or lunch, if she would be willing to share some thoughts on how I could find the nerdiest kid on campus to help promote my novel.
I just blew that idea.
My wife enjoys reading my blog—so that’s out. And now she wants to go with me on my campus outing.
But no . . . wait a minute, this could work out perfectly.
What is more adorable than a middle-aged man and his wife, sharing a walk down memory lane? I’ll point out various landmarks on campus. We’ll smile a lot, and I’ll tell everyone we meet, “You know me and my wife first met and fell in love on this very spot.” It’ll be a lie, but my God what an opening. Naturally, we’ll fall into a patter of banal inanities: “So, what are you majoring in? . . . That’s nice. . . . Can I give you some sage advice on meeting the perfect guy/girl?”
At this point my wife will elbow me in the ribs; we’ll all laugh.
And taking the bait, he/she will ask what we majored in and what we’re doing now.
Once hooked, all I have to do is reel them in. It’ll be perfect.
God, it’s really great living inside my mind. Wish reality were this easy.