Hi folks,
I know there are a bunch of fellow writers who visit this
page occasionally, so I thought I’d post a Public Service Announcement for
them. Most of us are asked to review each other’s work and/or to blurb it and
while we’re all happy to do so (in hopes of getting the same back…), it is a
time-consuming task which takes valuable minutes away from doing serious writer stuff…
like gazing out the window.
Therefore, I’ve taken the liberty of stealing borrowing
a handy aid to writing blurbs, reviews, and even forewords, from Ron Washam,
the “hosemaster” of the like-named blog, HoseMaster of Wine, who has created a
really cool template in the form of a Mad Lib. His was for wine books, and it
was an easy task to steal adapt it for our purposes.
So, without further do-do, here is your handy-dandy
template for cranking out a review for that masterpiece you’ve been asked to
write one for:
Blurb-writing Tips for Habitual Slackers!
Just when (second person pronoun) think there is nothing new to say about noir, along comes (author’s name). You’re holding in your (anatomical part) a book that manages to (bodily noise) about noir to fans in a way that is both provocative and (oh, just pick a goddamn adjective). I found myself (verb) aloud how (author’s name) has managed such a remarkable piece of (noun).
When I first began (gerund) about noir, I never dreamed that I’d be so (adjective). Or that noir would become so much a part of every day (activity). Now it seems that everyone (verb) a paperback copy with every (noun). Never in the history of man has noir been more (adjective). And, for that, we have a new generation of writers to thank, most notably (author’s name). I tip my (appendage) to him/her, and hope he/she grabs it and (verb) it all night long.
Human history and noir go together like love and (sexual position).
If you try to separate the two, someone’s (noun) gets hurt.
(Author’s name) understands this, and is able to explain (plural noun) and noir in a manner that even a (animal) would be able to understand. He/she’s a (title) of noir, and there are only (number) of those in the world. It would be wise of you to (verb) him/her, and the (beast of burden) he/she rode in on.
In this (adjective) book, one that I wish that I’d (verb—past tense), you’ll find the answers to many questions you may have about noir and (noun). What is the proper way to (verb) noir? (Author’s name) does a (adjective) job of explaining why putting a copy of his book in your (orifice) is just the beginning, remembering that your (orifice) is more than likely quite different than his/her (orifice). Vive le (French word)! This is just one of the many (plural noun) that (author’s name) provides in this (adjective) book.
My favorite stories have always been from (obscure French appellation). I want to savor a book on my death (furniture). And when I do, you can be sure that this will be the book folded calmly across my (body part).
Hope this helps! My heartfelt thanks for Ron Washam for
this plagiarized version taken from his hysterical blog (well, he plagiarized
it himself…). And, check him out. You’ll be glad you did.
Happy Reviewing!
Blue skies,
Les
Next up: A post on interview questions that I’m never asked
that I wish someone would. Like: What’s your favorite letter? Or, do you, like Richard Brautigan, have a burning desire to end a novel with the word mayonaise?
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