I Want to Write Books.
But I don’t want to put in the effort necessary.
Things I would write a book about:
- A dystopian future in which an oppressive government and love story and escape and starting over
- A self-help book entitled, “Don’t Do That!” about stuff you shouldn’t do
- A sequel called, “Maybe Try This” because I’m not trying to be preachy
- A coffee-table book which is just pictures of John Waters, but way too close (and yet not close enough)
- A novel about a young ne’er-do-well and his ruffian sidekick, who venture through the mean streets of Toronto
- A political thriller in which the protagonist ends up being the antagonist, but the reader is so unwoke by the end, they don’t realize they are cheering for the evil guy and only you can stop him…or could have. But it’s too late
- An instruction manual for making tea (which I don’t know how to properly make)
- 100 ways to do things properly and the pompous asshole I found to teach me why other ways are improper
- BONUS: A book with prepositions at the end of every sentence about
- An exposé on hipster culture, which pins the blame entirely on generation x
- A cookbook for people whose diets consist solely of convenience store food. I call it, “Hey, you just bought a bag of chips and some Pepsi”
- A business book called, “Stop. Honestly, just stop what you’re doing. Stand up slowly and look at everyone busy at their desks, pushing papers and talking on the phone — oh look, Bob brought lunch from home — now run. Run and don’t stop running until you get to the end of this book, which is way longer than it will take you to get home because you are going on a journey to DISNEYLAND. Crap. You forgot to email those spreadsheets before you started running. Agonize until it ruins the DISNEY trip for everyone. Now return to work and apologize. You’re fired.”