An immodest proposal
"World-shattering," really.
“Drastic.” “Severe.” Draconian.” “Unorthodox.” “Unconventional.” “Subversive.” “Intemperate.”
and…
“World-shattering.”
I looked up synonyms for “revolutionary” on my favorite online thesaurus, Word Hippo. These are a few of the terms that popped up.
Why my sudden interest in revolutionary wordplay? I’m facing a self-imposed deadline. And I am ready to do something intemperate.
The backstory:
Many Substackers seem to have book projects lying around. I, too, have been working on a nature-centered book manuscript for some time.
Bucking the odds, I successfully acquired a very good literary agent from a well-known New York agency. I also have several draft chapters in the bag, so to speak. I think they’re pretty strong. In fact, some have already been adapted and published by journals and magazines. So, I am now determined to send my book proposal to publishers (via my agent) no later than this summer.
However, my agent — wise to the ways of the publishing world — has advised me that I simply must acquire a larger “platform” in order to attract a worthy trade publisher. The problem is that nobody knows who I am. After all I’ve done and been through — how belittling!
The adoration of my sainted mother means so little in this heartlessly commercial world.
That said, I’m sure many of you have received the same advice. In this day and age, having a “platform” typically equates with a strong social media presence. Unless, of course, you’re already famous, beloved, celebrated, or notorious in your own right; I see you, Charles Manson. Clever!
Unfortunately, this “platform” requirement limits my choices if I’m to submit my book proposal so soon: I can become a serial killer, join the Trump cabinet, or acquire a substantial following on social media, including Substack.
I am equally averse to the first two choices.
This leaves the third option.
It should be noted that I’ve toyed with this idea before. Like most mammals, I’ve had a Facebook account for years (see Karl Lagerfeld’s cat). But I have kept that for my real-life, in-person friends. I also joined twitter just before Elon Musk destroyed it. Last time I looked, my “X” account was dormant yet followed by thousands of impossible “women” who message every male. They post nothing about themselves, but really, really want to meet me. Not quite the platform my agent has in mind.
So just this spring, I started an Instagram account. Then — unbelievably — a Tiktok account! Both exist purely to promote this Substack. Despite technical assistance from my students, however, the results have been modest at best.
I’ve therefore come to the realization that I am not very good at this. I’ll wrap my failings in virtue and blame my childhood: My generation was taught not to show off.
But there is one activity that I am pretty good at, and which people seem to appreciate: I find arrowheads. Sometimes without even looking. You may have seen my recent long article on this. Compared to most of my online essays, this one got a very healthy response — especially on Tiktok!
Have I cracked the secret code?
Therefore, by tying all these things together in the pursuit of an honest “platform,” I am prepared to do the most American thing possible.
I will become purely transactional!
My offer to you:
At time of writing, No Lines in Nature has between 100 and 200 subscribers. Perhaps that’s a decent start for a new account by a nobody like me, but not likely to catch a publisher’s eye.
So I’m prepared to offer a nice bribe prize to the person who becomes No Lines in Nature’s one thousandth subscriber. That’s certainly a stretch given the current numbers! But in exchange for subscribing, that lucky person — no sex bots! — will receive a genuine Native American arrowhead that I discovered on our family farm alongside Potomac Creek, Virginia, which serves as the locus of most of my nature writing. I’ll mail it to them personally. I’ll even tell them the arrowhead type and date as determined by an expert friend. Finally, I’ll thank them in the book’s acknowledgements.
Boy, did that wake you up, or what?
Now before you sign on to this proposition, allow me to anticipate your questions.
Does one have to become a paid subscriber? Nope. Just become a free subscriber to my Substack and stay there. If you want to pledge money, I’m grateful. But I haven’t even turned that button on yet.
Who pays the costs of mailing the arrowhead? I do.
Even if the winner lives in Afghanistan? Yes. Been there. Twice, in fact. (But I’m not offering hand delivery).
How will you know who won the prize? If there’s any doubt at all, I’ll take the names of the five or so people who subscribed at that crucial moment in history and conduct a fair little lottery. Then, I’ll advertise the existence of a winner here on No Lines in Nature. I’ll also reach out privately to request their address so that they may claim their prize. If there’s no response within four days, the next person gets it.
Actually, I recently did something similar on Facebook. I gave away a whiskey flask with our folk band’s name on it in order to solicit donations for a worthy environmental charity. Happily, my plan resulted in many generous donations. Then, I put the eligible names on slips of paper in a handsome Fez hat. Our dog Cash used his talented nose to select the winner. It all worked nicely. (And if the winner of the arrowhead should find an engraved Tollbooth Buskers whiskey flask a bit more “useful” than an ancient artifact — well, we can discuss a switch.)
So there you have it. This is a serious proposal. If it helps you to think it through, comrade Karl Marx argued that speculative games like this expose capitalism’s inherent irrationality. More usefully, his brother Groucho allegedly said that
“The secret of life is honesty and fair dealing. If you can fake that, you’ve got it made.”
Let me know what you think, fellow travelers: Is this tacky madness or inspired hucksterism? Have we got a deal? After embracing base transactionalism, I suppose the next most American thing to do would be to threaten you all with invasion should you fail to comply. But that’s not me. Gas is already too expensive.
And yes, Word Hippo tells me that another synonym for “revolutionary” is “desperate.”
Onward, comrades!
Ranjit
Nota Bene: My artistic muse swears that the first and second buttons below are pure magic.