I don’t summarise things because that’s when you lose the whole point of it. When you’ve written a book, you shouldn’t be able to reduce it to a short story, not to mention a summary. All the authentic sentiments would disintegrate into some tasteless and dull adjectives with no meaning because you don’t see the whole picture. Yet, blurbs are necessary.
My friend Ed pointed out that some people check the back cover for smashed insects. I hope that people won’t do this with mine until they have read it. The blurb matters, doesn’t it?
It will be a paperback. So, unlike the hardbacks, there won’t be a separate sleeve inside the book with thorough details. I believe the only thing that I can do is read the blurbs of fifty books to get an idea of writing it.
It takes Damon Albarn up to three hours to write a line, but it took Philip K. Dick a year to write thirty books.
Some minds are like on-going typewriters, and their only weakness is their short-term memory.
Apparently, I should finish a blurb with an intriguing question, but I try to rule out stereotypes. It’s complicated; I can’t just be Dandy Warhol, grab Marilyn Monroe’s face and re-invent it. Postmodernism needs to be handled with more originality, which is not easy if you only have 150-200 words.
Anyway, I’ve come up with this:
>> Ellen Parker is a junior heart surgeon in New York. The city is her hideout; the hospital is her life, and the patients are her guinea pigs. With her PTSD, she finds meaning in operating theatres and sex. Yet, her existential dilemma continues to throw her off track. As her past unearths and becomes more transparent, she realizes that success alone isn’t going to fix her broken heart.
The story touches upon female guilt and examines femininity on a dark level. Ellen is an absurdist who decides to revolt and believe in something that gives her life a purpose. But what if what she believes in isn’t the truth?<<