And the Nobel Prize goes to ...

This week I’d like to take the 400 to 500 words I normally use to cast pearls before you people to accept the Nobel Prize for Literature for the groundbreaking, breathtaking masterpiece I have yet to write.

Although I haven’t written my book, I have been thinking about it really hard. I’ve been preparing to write it by sharpening the pencils on my desk, brainstorming with my heterosexual life partner about how we can make it awesome (robots and zombies) and arguing with my old English prof over whether the proper plural for the word “ninja” is “ninja” or “ninjas.”

I haven’t committed the first word to page yet, nor do I have any idea about what I want the book to be about yet, but I have been reading “Letters to Penthouse” for some ideas on how to write tasteful, romantic love scenes.

I’ve also prepared by attempting to make one of those character webs they showed us how to make in creative writing class, but my markers ran out of ink so I had to quit. I did buy a monkey to sit in front of my keyboard, but unfortunately the monkey has yet to produce any copy, opting instead to occasionally throw poo at me and engage in various other inappropriate acts.

Nevertheless, I’m so convinced that this book is going to be great that I’ve already adopted a lot of the wacky habits writers are supposed to have after they become successful. So far I’ve developed two mental illnesses, and I’m hoping to develop an addiction. A sex addiction would be nice, but let’s face it, with a face like mine I have a better chance of getting drugs, alcohol or Fun Dip. I do intend to hit some of those anonymous meetings tonight to get some how-to advice on developing an addiction from seasoned pros.

Although I’ve so far failed to complete even the most elementary task of writing a novel, I am extremely appreciative of the Nobel Prize Committee for recognizing my genius by awarding me the Nobel Prize for Literature.

Some folks might say that awarding a Nobel Prize to someone who, no matter how much promise he or she shows, has yet to achieve any real results, makes both the prize committee and the recipient look like a bunch of hoopleheads. It could be argued that such an undeserved award cheapens the prize, making it look like one of those participation medals they give gawky children in soccer league.

I say rubbish. The Nobel Prize Committee just knows a winner when they see one. And I have to tell you, this prize has done wonders for my self-esteem. I’ve decided to enter lots of other contests I ordinarily would have no realistic chance of winning such as next year’s Miss Teen Asian America pageant.

Yes I Can!

Ninja or ninjas can reach Jim Cook at .