My friend, you may take it from me,
That of all the afflictions accurst
A writer must battle
When touting her novel
A diffident nature’s the worst.
Though you’re clever as clever can be –
Penning brilliant books of romance –
You must stir it and stump it,
And blow your own trumpet,
Or, trust me, you haven’t a chance!
If you wish to increase your advance,
Your sales you had better enhance,
You must stir it and stump it,
And blow your own trumpet,
Or, trust me, you haven’t a chance!
My pitch, it goes something like this:
“It’s contemporary love with a twist –
It’s “Sex in the City”
Meets cute Walter Mitty–
A story that shouldn’t be missed!”
I’m willing to write ’til I drop –
But from interviews I want to hide
I loathe the attention
Ask why and I’ll mention
I’m modesty personified!
If you wish your career to advance,
Your profile you must enhance,
You must stir it and stump it,
And blow your own trumpet,
Or, trust me, you haven’t a chance!
As a writer, I’m sexy and sweet –
My books combine wit, verve and heat –
From Crusie and Mayer
To Roberts and Heyer
They all of them take a back seat.
From Regency up to Sci-Fi
No one writes in more genres than I,
But I just can’t sell it
The truth, I will tell it:
I’m diffident, modest and shy!
To have a best selling romance
The public you’ve got to entrance,
You must stir it and stump it,
And blow your own trumpet,
Or, trust me, you haven’t a chance!