Tuesday, August 31, 2010

The Hook

Recently, I began drafting my book proposal (a sort of Reader's Digest version of my cookbook) that I will send out to literary agents and publishers before the manuscript. The first step of book proposal drafting is to write a book overview or synopsis. My research tells me that it should be between 1 and 2 pages in length and summarize the main idea of the book. Well, that's fine, I think I should be able to do that. It's only a cookbook after all, what is there to say?

But as I continued to research the topic, I learned that really literary agents and publishers are only interested in one particular sentence of that overview. That's right – one sentence out of a page or two. The special sentence is referred to as “the hook” - perhaps because all it takes is one sharp hook to land a fish (or in this case a book deal). But this hook is something that has me stressing. How does one sell a book in a single concise sentence?

Unfortunately I don't have an answer for you at the moment. I'm still thinking. But so far I've come up with the following:

  • CELEBRATE: Food for Life's Special Occasions is a great book, and you should publish it because I want you to.
  • CELEBRATE: Food for Life's Special Occasions is a humorous cookbook, and you don't see many of those, now do you?
    and
  • CELEBRATE: Food for Life's Special Occasions has a dead sexy cover photo, and that's reason enough.
Yeah... Somehow, I don't think any of those will work. (Although I think they should. How's that old adage go – always judge a book by its cover?) Well anyway, I guess I'll just have to continue my research tomorrow in the hopes of honing my hook to a literary agent-landing sharpness.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Potato Croquettes

Potato Croquettes

You have to be pretty gung ho about leftovers to turn leftover mashed potatoes into croquettes. Let's face it, most of us would simply mound the mashed potatoes into a bowl, smother them with some gravy, and nuke the heap in the microwave. I, myself have done just that on numerous occasions. It's delightfully simple, yet disappointingly predictable. So not wanting to ever be predictable, I began testing numerous recipes to use up the last of those mashed potatoes. Of all those recipes, this one was my favorite. It's basically like turning that mash into a batch of French fries. Sure, it takes a few more minutes to make than the typical microwaved mash, but these delightful croquettes are worth it.

serves 4

2 pounds leftover mashed potatoes
¾ -1 cup all-purpose flour
1 large egg yolk, plus 2 large eggs
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 cup milk
1 cup breadcrumbs, for breading
4 cups vegetable oil, for frying

In the bowl of a food processor fitted with the metal blade attachment, pulse the mashed potatoes to break up any clumps. Continuing to pulse the machine, add ¼ cup of the flour, the egg yolk, and the butter. Add an additional ¼ cup of the flour if necessary to create a stiff, but pipe-able mixture. Season to taste with salt and black pepper.

Transfer the potato mixture to a piping bag, fitted with a large round tip. Pipe the mixture out into long cylinders on a lightly floured work surface. Then, use a lightly floured bench scraper or knife to cut the cylinders into smaller, 3-inch long croquettes.

To bread the croquettes, first fill a small bowl with the remaining ½ cup of flour. In another mixing bowl, whisk together the 2 whole eggs with the milk. Fill a third bowl with the breadcrumbs. Working on one croquette at a time, dredge the croquette first in the flour. Then, dip the croquette in the egg and milk mixture, before breading it in the breadcrumbs and setting aside. Repeat this step until all the croquettes are breaded.

In a large sauce pot, heat the oil over high heat to a temperature of 375°F and line a baking sheet with paper towel and set aside. Carefully drop a few of the croquettes into the hot oil and fry until golden brown, about 3 to 4 minutes. To make sure the croquettes brown evenly, flip them over in the oil, halfway through frying. Remove the fried croquettes from the hot oil and transfer to the paper towel-lined baking sheet to drain. Continue to fry the remaining croquettes in this manner, keeping the oil at a constant temperature of 375°F. Sprinkle the finished croquettes with additional salt and serve.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Keepin' it Real

I've always had an interest in food styling Рtaking a plate of food and making it as aesthetically pleasing as possible. And to use a clich̩, people are said to eat with their eyes first. So, it stands to reason that anyone writing a cookbook should have a good understanding of the topic. Let's fact it, if the meatloaf looks like a pile of poo, it really doesn't matter how great it tastes, now does it? It's just going to remain untouched until someone dumps it. That's why I've taken several courses on food styling (as well as taught a few), read pretty much every book I can find on the subject, and even written a 150-page senior thesis that dealt in major part with making food look pretty. Now, I'm not saying I'm a expert by any means, but I think I am reasonably well-informed about food styling.

With that said, I don't believe anyone can afford to quit learning about his or her chosen field of study. And that is why I am always on the lookout for new information about food styling. Recently, I came across a new photography textbook that contained a chapter devoted to styling and photographing food. In the interest of protecting the innocent, let's just call that book the Frankenfood Styling Book.

The chapter on food styling was about 25 pages long and went into great detail about how to make your photographed recipes look their best through the use of Krazy glue, spritzer bottles of soapy water, and a clothing steam-iron. Now, it was somewhere around the recipe for the styrofoam cake with cardboard filling that I thought – the author of this book needs some serious help. Who really thinks smearing iodine on a roasted turkey is a good idea? Sure it might help prevent a goiter, but is that really worth sacrificing the natural beauty and delicious taste of a well-roasted Thanksgiving turkey? I think not.

That is why I photographed all the recipes for my cookbook myself. I know, first hand, that absolutely no culinary tomfoolery has taken place. What you see, is what you get. And assuming that my publisher (whoever that may be) doesn't throw all my photos out and start over, the food shown in the pictures is the real thing. Sure, my recipe for cheesecake might not look as flawless as that shown in the Frankenfood Styling Book, but it's real. And it certainly tastes better without the recommended mayonnaise, cardboard, bamboo skewers, and Halloween costume blood drizzle.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Short and Sweet

I read this morning on CBS's The Early Show website that the constant juggling of e-mails, text messages, twitter updates, and the like can actually cause a drain on a person's mental abilities. (Please note the irony that I read this information on a website.) Apparently, all this social technology (including this blog) is somehow impeding our abilities to think and interact with others, creating a generation of people who lack the appropriate social skills to read facial expressions, successfully interview for a job, or even maintain a friendship outside of a chat room.

Well, since I am attempting to publish a cookbook about special occasion entertaining (i.e. surrounding yourself with friends and family in a social situation devoid of computers and the like), I think it best that I keep today's blog post short and sweet. And in that way, we can both turn off our computers, step away from all this social technology for a moment, and spend some face-to-face time chatting with a good friend over a nice dinner al fresco.

Just don't get too comfortable with this no-blog-reading. I expect you back here tomorrow to read the next installment of The Trials and Tribulations of a Wannabe Author.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Honey-Do

There is one major problem with working from home – you can never get away from that honey-do-list. It just sits there on the kitchen counter getting longer and longer with each passing day – an ever present reminder that at some point in your life (or more accurately, at some point this week) you're going to have to stop being that wannabe author and become that wanna-not-be carpet-scrubbing, weed-picking, window-washing master of home repair and homemaking. Yeah, there is just nothing pleasant about that honey-do-list. In fact, I would go so far as to say, the honey-do-list is to list writing, what proctology is to medical science – a pain in the butt.

But, as with any part of civilized society, the honey-do-list is critical to our survival. And so today, despite the mountain of proofreading stacked beside my computer, I set out to:

  1. Do the laundry
  2. Wash the windows
  3. Shampoo the living room upholstery
  4. Scrub the kitchen
  5. Mow the lawn

And so forth...

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

The Sleep Aid

Have you ever had one of those really, really long nights? One of those nights when it seems that building a miniature Eiffel Tower out of nothing but toothpicks and chewing gum might be easier than falling asleep? A night that, regardless of the reason for your insomnia (be it a lumpy bed, excessive Mountain Dew consumption, or some form of worrywart-ism), you lie in bed, tossing and turning until the wee hours of the morning? Yeah, I had one of those nights, last night.

For some people the solution to insomnia is simple - drag yourself out of your warm bed and find something to relieve your sleepless night (relief which can come in several forms such as a glass of warm milk, an over-the-counter sleep aid, or an early-morning shot of NyQuil – yuck). But sometimes relief from a sleepless night isn't quite so easy to find. Unfortunately for me, I have been known to suffer from a mild case of worrywart-ism. And like most worrywarts, I sometimes stress myself out to the point of insomnia. Let's face it, I'm trying to publish a cookbook – there is a lot to worry about. But last night's sleeplessness was not publication-induced, but rather poultry-induced.

You see, I live in a rather rural part of Maine – a place where having a couple of chickens roaming about your front yard isn't all that unusual. In fact, my family has about a half-dozen such birds meandering about the lawn, picking at bugs and sunning themselves. They really are quite enjoyable to watch and, with any luck, will one day produce some eggs that will justify the money spent on food, chicken scratch, and that heat lamp that keeps them all nice and warm. (They are still young chickens, after all, and aren't expected to produce eggs for several more months.)

Well, last night something set off the motion light outside my bedroom window, waking me up to see what appeared to be a chicken running around the driveway. Now, I'll spare you the details, but let me just say, what set off the motion light was not one of the chickens. They were all safe and sound in their palatial chicken coop. Unfortunately, however, confirming that all the chickens were safe and sound in their palatial chicken coop (and alleviating my worrywart-ism) did involve pulling myself from my warm bed, walking across the yard in my boxer shorts to the chicken coop, and counting the chickens at 2:00 in the morning. At which point I turned around, returned to my warm bed, and fell fast asleep, free of any stress or poultry-induced worrywart-ism. How's that for a sleep aid?

Monday, August 23, 2010

Banana-Nut Bread Pudding

Banana-Nut Bread Pudding

I don't know about in your home, but in mine, there generally aren't leftovers when it comes to dessert. They tend to disappear in a frenzy of forks, spoons, and fingers as soon as they hit the table with only a lonely blob of whipped cream left to tell the tale. So here is a recipe for turning some Banana-Nut Bread into a quick and delicious dessert.

makes 1 eight-by-eleven-inch pan

1 loaf Banana-Nut Bread, cut into 1-inch cubes
¼ cup (½ stick) unsalted butter, melted, plus more for the pan
2 bananas, peeled and sliced into ¼-inch slices
¼ cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons cornstarch
2 cups whole milk
3 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
pinch kosher salt
½ cup confectioners' sugar, for dusting
2 cups whipped cream, for garnish

Preheat the oven to 350°F. On a parchment-lined baking sheet, toss the bread cubes with the butter to coat well. Place in the preheated oven and toast until golden, about 15 minutes. To evenly toast the bread cubes, use a spatula to turn the bread cubes over halfway through toasting. Then, remove from the oven and cool.

Grease an 8-inch-by-11-inch baking pan with butter. Transfer the toasted bread cubes to the baking pan. Toss in the banana slices and set aside.

In a mixing bowl, whisk together the sugar and cornstarch, making sure to break up any lumps of cornstarch. Whisk in the milk and eggs, dissolving all the sugar in the milk. Add the vanilla extract, cinnamon, and salt, stirring to combine. Then, pour the milk mixture over the cubes of bread in the baking pan. Allow the bread to set and soak up the mixture for about 10 minutes.

Cover the baking dish with a sheet of parchment paper, and a sheet of aluminum foil. Then, place the baking dish inside a larger baking dish or roasting pan. Fill the larger dish with enough boiling water to come halfway up the sides of the bread pudding dish to create a hot-water bath. Bake the pudding in the preheated oven in the hot-water bath for 1¼-1½ hours. Uncover the pudding dish during the last 10 minutes of baking and allow the top to brown slightly. Then, remove from the oven and cool. Dust the top of the bread pudding with confectioners' sugar and serve with whipped cream.  

Friday, August 20, 2010

The Unpaid Vacation

I like to think of myself as a self-employed writer – a sort of literary entrepreneur that spends day after day laboring over my cookbook on some path to culinary self-actualization (or at the very least, on a path to culinary publication). And I do, of course, realize that to everyone else such a statement may just sound like a fancy way of saying I'm underemployed - rather like those janitors who hang up name plaques that read “John Doe, Chief Sanitation Engineer.” But I do believe there is a difference between being self-employed and just plain lazy.

Perhaps the best example I can give to illustrate my point is to make a comparison between a self-employed boss and just plain lazy boss. Let's face it, everyone loves the just plain lazy boss. He lets you take days off, work in your pj's, and casually sip at a cold beer while “brainstorming” about your book. Then, there is the self-employed boss. He expects you to work all the time, criticizes everything you write, and sees physical exhaustion as nothing short of mutiny.

Unfortunately for me, I am the latter form of boss. My employee (a.k.a. me) hasn't gotten a sick day, vacation day, or holiday since starting this little cookbook project one year ago. In fact, Bob Cratchit should consider himself lucky that Ebenezer Scrooge let him take Christmas off. My boss had me taking photos of a Prime-Rib Roast and writing recipes for Yorkshire Pudding and Horseradish-Roasted Potatoes on that particular day. But then again my job has the added benefit of keeping me well fed, so I'm not complaining.

But all that aside, it is August Festival here in Washburn, Maine. It's a small town tradition with lots of food, a parade, and even some fireworks at the end of the day. And luckily, my boss has decided I could use the day off. So tomorrow, I can be found on Main Street in Washburn, enjoying my first day off in one year. It's an unpaid holiday of course (couldn't talk my boss into giving me any spending money), but it is a vacation day nevertheless. And I dare say it is well deserved.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

And Now the Conclusion

I'm a big fan of Star Trek. And though I realize that making such a statement allows my nerd flag to fly quite prominently for all the world to see, I still cannot help, but bring up the topic of one of the world's greatest sci-fi franchises and apply it to the question at hand. That question of course being – how does one create a must-read series of cookbooks?

You see, the people behind Star Trek have created a franchise of six televisions shows (counting the animated series) and eleven movies (not to mention numerous books, comics, board games, and plastic action figures) that millions of people around the world follow almost religiously. And though I don't believe anyone will ever immortalize me with some form of posable plastic action figure with included colander and skillet, I cannot help but ask the question – how did Star Trek do it? Let's face it, the plot of every episode can be outlined as follows:

* The valiant crew of the starship [insert ship name here] faces an unexpected problem (be it technological, sociological, or otherwise) while exploring the [insert astronomical place or event here].

* The intrepid starship [insert ship name here] then shakes a bit and a few computer screens explode throwing a couple of no-name lieutenants across the room.

* And finally, the six or so major characters put their heads together, come up with some form of solution, and implement it by flipping a few blinking light switches, thus saving the day.

Yet despite my rather monotonous summary of the shows' plots (I really do like the series), people watch the reruns week after week, they buy the dvds, read the books, and purchase pretty much anything with the Star Trek logo on it. Now, why does that happen? I believe the answer lies in how one differentiates between a series and a franchise. For example, Star Trek Voyager is a series of shows that follows - the valiant crew of the starship [Voyager] as they face unexpected problems while exploring the [Delta Quadrant]. (As you can see my outline above is quite thorough.) The series lasted for 7 seasons, which was about the amount of time it took for the show's writers to exhaust all the ideas relevant to the show's premise.

So, Star Trek Voyager is comparable to my first cookbook. CELEBRATE: Food for Life's Special Occasions is a book devoted to teaching the reader how to entertain friends and family at home during holidays, birthdays, and other annual celebrations. CELEBRATE is one book that discusses a series of special occasions. Unfortunately for me, I do believe it covers the bases pretty thoroughly and unless there are lots of people out there who are celebrating National Deviled Egg Day or our country's two Guacamole Days (that's right, there are two of them), I don't think a second Nathan Scott book on special occasion entertaining will be significantly different than the first. (At least not anytime soon. Maybe it will be after a decade or so, when everyone has forgotten what the first cookbook said.)

So instead of creating a series of special occasion cookbooks, what I need to do is create a franchise of Nathan Scott cookbooks. The first book tells the reader how to entertain during the special occasions. But the next book could tell the reader how to cook everyday. That could then be followed by a third book that discusses how to cook frog legs – I could call that something like 101 Things to Do with Frog Legs. And maybe a fourth cookbook could be written to tells the reader how to entertain the elderly (you know what I mean – recipes like prune juice cocktails and oatmeal surprise).

In short, my solution to this little problem of how to create a series of must-read cookbooks is to not create a series of must-read cookbooks. Instead, I intend to create a franchise of Nathan Scott cookbooks, each with a unique topic that, with a little luck, will have readers racing to the stores in fits of anxiety-ridden cookbook-buying mania.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Tune in Next Time

I've heard that publishers love an author who can produce a series of books that drives readers back into the bookstores time and time again. Let's take those Twilight series books by Stephenie Meyer for example. The Twilight story is engaging, imaginative, sexy, and perhaps best of all, it leaves the reader asking for more. And as a result, readers flock to their local booksellers in fits of anxiety-ridden vampire-book-buying mania. Even I (as a person who hasn't read the Twilight series yet) sometimes find myself asking the question - Edward or Jacob?

Now, how does one apply this idea to writing cookbooks? How does one create a series of cookbooks that encourages readers to fork over even more money in exchange for another Nathan Scott cookbook? Though I am not convinced that anyone has ever run to a bookstore to purchase a copy of any cookbook out of some fit of anxiety-ridden book-buying mania, I do believe there must be a way to convince readers to buy more.

One thought I had was to just leave the last step off of my cookbook's final recipe – a sort of recipe cliffhanger, if you will. I could even include a cute note at the bottom of the recipe to illustrate my point. (Perhaps something along the lines of “To be concluded...” or “Will this cake work? Will Nathan succeed? Purchase his next cookbook to find out!”) That is, after all, an idea that does seem to work for the television and movie industries. But then again, omitting a step or two might just seem like an oversight and make readers think that I don't know what I'm doing.

I also considered making some giant food posters that I would chop up into quarters and include as the final page in a series of four books. That way every time a reader purchases a book, he or she gets the next quarter of the poster. But that idea kind of went the way of the dinosaur as well. Let's face it, it's a cookbook. What kind of poster could I create to include inside a cookbook? A giant tomato? Somehow I doubt people would be flocking back to the bookstores to purchase that next cookbook just to complete a poster of a giant tomato.

So where does that leave me? How will I create a series of must-read cookbooks? Well, I guess you'll just have to become a follower of my blog and tune in next time to find out.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Have You Been Tested Lately?

Did you know that August is National Eye Exam Month? Neither did I. Or perhaps I should say - neither did eye. (Let's face it, I have always had a strange appreciation for such clich̩ puns.) But my quirky sense of humor aside, I was completely unaware of this month's special significance to the optometry industry until I paid a visit to my local optometrist. And while sitting in the waiting room performing a quick self-eye exam (I had to ensure that I wouldn't embarrass myself later in front of the doctor by confusing the number 3 with the letter E, of course), I saw a poster that read РAugust is National 3ye 3xam Month. Wait a minute... That should read РAugust is National Eye Exam Month. (It's those 3s and Es I tell you.) Well anyway, the poster got me thinking. Why don't I know about this? Aside from sleeping, I use my eyes almost 24/7. And even more to the point, I desire to work in the publishing industry Рan industry that sort of revolves around looking at letters on a page. So the only excuse I have for my ignorance of this month's significance is to blame poor marketing.

You see, for the past few weeks I have been studying how to market my cookbook, CELEBRATE: Food for Life's Special Occasions. I'm currently reading about 5 books on the subject and really find it quite fascinating. There are just so many ways to make contact with your readers and encourage them to purchase and read your book.

In the interest of illustrating my point, let's take the marketing of National Eye Exam Month in August and compare it to National Breast Cancer Awareness Month in October. (Why I know that National Breast Cancer Awareness Month is in October, I don't know. I assure you that I'm a perfectly flat-chested male. But I guess we'll just have to chalk that up to good marketing on the part of the National Breast Cancer Awareness folks.)

Perhaps the most iconic feature of National Breast Cancer Awareness Month is the pink bow that people pin to their shirt in honor of the month, as well as in recognition of breast cancer survivors and in remembrance of breast cancer victims. I have worn the pink ribbon before in remembrance of my grandmother, making me one of many who have done so throughout the month of October. In fact, the pink ribbon is so recognizable that you'll see it printed on cereal boxes, posted at health clubs, and stapled to coupons. They're in newspapers, pinned to the shirts of newsmakers, and even stamped on that jar of capers. In short, those iconic little pink bows are everywhere, and that is why so many people know about Breast Cancer Awareness Month and participate in its events.

And what does National Eye Exam Month have? Do they have a ribbon? If there is one, I've never seen it. And there certainly is no mention of it on my morning Cheerios, newspaper, or jar of capers. And that is just poor marketing. I have eyes, and they need to be checked by a trained professional at least once a year. That makes me part of this campaign's target audience, and I should know that this is National Eye Exam Month.

So what I propose we do is create a ribbon. (Borrowing an idea from another is, after all, the finest of marketing tradition). But I suggest we tweak the idea a bit. Instead of a pink ribbon, let's make an invisible ribbon – one that cannot be seen. Then, what we all need to do is make up some buttons to pin to our shirts. On each button we could write something like – Can you see my ribbon? No? Then you need an eye exam. It's simple. It's to the point. And it gets the message out there, that everyone needs an eye exam at least once a year. And in that way, when my cookbook does get published, everyone will be able to read it with a healthy pair of eyes.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Recipe Monday

Unless there are any objections, I propose that we make today Recipe Monday. And so without further ado, I give you this first recipe for a simple sandwich that transforms some leftover roast beef into a delicious and quick-to-prepare wrap that everyone is sure to enjoy.


LEFTOVER BEEF WRAP

This is a favorite midnight snack of mine. With virtually no cooking to be done, aside from toasting the tortilla (a step that can and is often omitted in the stupor of sleep-eating), this Leftover Beef Wrap can be made and eaten quickly, without waking anyone else in the house. (Of course, if not waking others is your goal, I would probably forgo using the food processor to make the Hummus.) But since I always have a jar of the stuff hidden in the back of the fridge for midnight slathering, I often can skip that step too. And perhaps the best part of the recipe is how versatile it is. Sure I use some leftover Prime-Rib Roast below, but practically any leftover meat will do. Just season it to your liking using pungent spices like paprika and cumin, and toss in whatever vegetables you happen to have lying around. It's really that easy.

serves 4

HUMMUS
4 cloves garlic, peeled and minced
1 15-ounce can chickpeas, drained
3 tablespoons Tahini paste
2-3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 teaspoon fresh oregano leaves, finely chopped
1 teaspoon kosher salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

LEFTOVER BEEF WRAP
8 flour tortillas
1½ pounds leftover prime-rib roast, sliced
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
½ teaspoon kosher salt
¼ teaspoon Cayenne pepper
¼ teaspoon cumin
pinch freshly ground black pepper
1 cup Romaine lettuce, shredded
2-3 Roma tomatoes, stem-end removed and quartered
1 large red onion, peeled and thinly sliced
4 ounces feta cheese, crumbled
½ cup sour cream

Start by making the Hummus. In the bowl of a food processor fitted with the steel blade attachment, combine the garlic, chickpeas, and Tahini. Pulse the machine until the ingredients are well combined. Then, with the machine running, slowly pour in 2 tablespoons of the olive oil and process until the mixture forms a paste. Add the lemon juice, oregano, salt, and black pepper and pulse to combine. The resulting mixture should be smooth and easy to spread. If it is too thick, add the remaining tablespoon of olive oil. Set aside.

Preheat a dry skillet over medium-high heat. Place a flour tortilla in the skillet and toast lightly, about 1 minute. Then, flip the tortilla over and toast on the other side. Set the tortilla aside while you continue to toast the remaining tortillas.

In a small mixing bowl, combine the leftover rib roast with the paprika, salt, Cayenne, cumin, and black pepper. Toss to coat the meat in the spice mixture.

To assemble the wrap, take a toasted tortilla and smear it with some of the Hummus. Spoon some of the lettuce and the spiced beef mixture in a line down the center of the tortilla. Add a few wedges of tomato and a couple slices of onion. Sprinkle with feta cheese and garnish with a spoonful of sour cream. Then, fold the Leftover Beef Wrap like a burrito and set aside while you continue to fill and roll the remaining tortillas.  

Friday, August 13, 2010

A Little Brain Storm

Recently, I've been helping my brother (whom I shall refer to as Sally - purely in the interest of protecting the innocent, I assure you) construct a veneer stone chimney at his house. It is a rather challenging process (much like publishing a cookbook). It involves covering a wood-framed chimney with a dreadfully hand-scratching wire mesh. Then, a thick “crumb coating” of mortar is smeared over the wall before the faux stone bricks are glued in place with additional mortar. In fact, perhaps the best way to describe the process is to compare it to cake decorating. Only in this case, envision yourself frosting a wall rather than a round of Devil's Food. It can be a lot of fun, but sadly it's not nearly as tasty. But... let's not go into that story right now, ok?

This afternoon, while I was dangling off the edge of the scissor lift handing mortar frosted rocks to Sally, I thought – I need business cards! It always amazes me the ideas that pop into my head, and how they show up at the most random of times. What aspect of building a chimney reminded me to print out some business cards, I'll never know. But I suppose that is just how my brain has always worked.

I must say, my brain is rather like that one cousin we all have. You know the one I mean - that distant cousin that comes to all the family get-togethers and is quiet for the most part. But then he decides to interrupt the conversation and tell everyone about how much his cross-eyed turtle enjoys sitting on warm rocks and eating cubes of SPAM. Yeah, my brain is like that.

Luckily, in the case of today's little brain storm, I came up with a useful idea. Business cards are a great way to network. And as a wannabe author, I need to network with as many people as possible in the hopes of finding some connection to the wide world of publishing. And so now I set off, ready for a weekend of business card production, as well as additional mortar work with Sally, of course. But before I go, let me just say thank you for reading this week, and I'll see you back here on Monday.   

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Will You Be My Friend?

As I continue to research the cookbook publication process, one topic that keeps coming up is how to publicize the book before it is published. Before it's published? Aren't we getting a little ahead of ourselves here? The book isn't even in a tangible form yet, but I'm expected to try and market it now?

I must admit, the idea reminds me of this poster I once saw in Italy. The poster advertised a traveling troupe of Shakespearean actors that planned to pass through Florence. As I recall the poster said the troupe would be performing a production of MacBeth sometime between June of 2009 and April of 2012. How's that for prior marketing? Might as well employ some of those “The End is Near!” nuts and have them walk around town with sandwich boards that read “Brace yourselves everyone! MacBeth will be here sometime during the next 3 years!” But I digress...

My research is telling me to market my book as best I can before finding the publisher.  So that is exactly what I am going to do. I've already started a Facebook page. It's called Nathan Scott's Book(s). (Book(s) because I only have the one book at the moment, but am planning a series of cookbooks for the future.) And I am now asking anyone and everyone to “like” that page. Which isn't exactly a new concept to me. Let's face it, between the middle school headgear and the high school acne, I've learned how to make friends despite disadvantages. But in this case, I'm not exactly asking people to like me, but rather a book that (at least at this moment) can only be read from my computer. Hmmm...

So far I've only thought up two solutions to the problem. One: I've suggested the Facebook page to all my friends and have already asked/begged/bribed them to encourage their friends to “like” it as well. And two: I've posted the link to my page on several other pages such as the Boy Scouts of America and WPTZ in Plattsburgh, NY.  But aside from those two solutions (excluding, of course, that fleeting thought of jumping down one of those airplane escape ramps - a publicity stunt that seems to have worked for that Jet Blue fellow), I am fresh out of Facebook networking ideas. Perhaps I will think of some more over the coming days. But for the moment all I can do is ask – will you be my friend?

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

And So the Research Begins...

As a new entrant to the large and scary world of cookbook publishing, my knowledge of how to approach literary agents and publishing houses is a bit... limited. Ok, so perhaps “a bit limited” isn't quite the right way to put that. Let's just say the phrase - utterly clueless - comes to mind. But being stubbornly determined to publish my cookbook, CELEBRATE: Food for Life's Special Occasions, I have purchased several how-to books on the matter in the hopes of finding the secret to publishing success. I must admit, whenever a new how-to book arrives from Amazon.com, I can't help but quickly flip through its pages looking for that sure-fire solution to getting published. Unfortunately, no Willy Wonka-esque golden tickets have fallen out from between the pages, and I am left to delve a little deeper into the books to research the topic as well as I can.

There is only one problem with my research. I've either purchased the wrong books or have lost the tolerance for textbooks that I built up in college. Regardless of the reason, every time I crack open one of those how-to-publish-your-book books, I find my eyes gradually becoming heavy, my head starting to ache, and my mind wandering to thoughts of spicy guacamoles and glasses of wine I once enjoyed.

Luckily, I have found an answer to my research problem – chocolate, lots and lots of chocolate. You see, not only am I a rabid chocoholic, but chocolate has small quantities of eye-opening caffeine that can help anyone plow through even the most boring of how-to text. Hence, the more chocolate you eat, the more caffeine you get, and the more reading you finish. (Assuming, of course, that you are not allergic to chocolate and/or caffeine. In which case, I advise you to try noisy foods like popcorn, potato chips, or a sizzle platter of fajitas to keep you awake.) And if you are looking for a snack to enjoy while reading about query letter drafting or copyright law, I recommend the following:

Crumble a fistful of Oreos overtop a scoop or two of chocolate ice cream. Then, smother the lot with a healthy drizzle of warm chocolate sauce and enjoy by the spoonful.

Though it's not exactly a recipe I would write in my cookbook, I must say it is a simple, satisfying, and utterly delicious dish that every sleepy-eyed, chocoholic, wannabe author is sure to enjoy.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

With Manuscript

At the age of 24, I find myself like thousands (if not millions) of other Americans. I, Nathan Scott, am with manuscript. It is a rather delightful cookbook I should say, with plenty of pretty pictures and over 300 tried and true recipes for dishes like Springtime Pappardelle and Summer Berry Cobblers. And though I am resolute in my belief that my cookbook, Celebrate: Food for Life's Special Occasions, is a must-have for all home entertainers, I find myself in the most frustrating of situations. I'm carrying this manuscript (my baby) around with me wherever I go, hoping that someone will take a moment to leaf through its hefty 576-page thickness, only to be stonewalled at every corner. It's rather like carrying a keg of beer on your shoulder – it has the potential to be a lot of fun, but at the end of the day it's a pain in the neck. And I must admit, I am getting that sinking feeling that the more traditional 9-month gestation of a human baby would be much shorter and much less painful than the journey I am about to embark upon. It is a journey of trial and error, of rejection and smashed dreams, and copious amounts of alcohol and editing. It's a journey to publication.

Currently, I do not have a literary agent nor any connection to the publishing world. But what I do have is the thick skin of a trained chef and the enthusiasm of a high school glee club suffering from a candy-induced fit of ADHD. In short, I'm selling this book whether it takes 10 days or 10 years. (Preferably the former rather than the latter, of course.)

And so with the creation of this blog, I invite you to join me on this journey to publication. Most days (if not everyday) I will update you on my progress, the lessons I learn, and the mental and emotional breakdowns I have. This blog might not always be pretty, but it will sure be fun. So brace yourself, chew on a few ice chips, and don't forget to breath because we're publishing a book, and that's anything but easy.