So for several years now John and I have tried to come up with the scammiest possible self-help book that will take us a weekend to write and make millions. Problem is, we never seem to be as unethical or as light on substance as the people who actually pull this off. We keep thinking, for some stupid reason, that a self-help book is actually supposed to have some truth to it. You know, to help somebody. And then people like Rhonda Byrne come along and prove that we are complete idiots.
So I’m switching genres. I now think my bestselling destiny lies in affliction fiction.
People love to read about folks with medical problems. Sure, a lot of the good conditions are taken. Dwarfism, Tourette’s, autism. But I’ve got a sure-fire winner. My bestselling novel will be about a woman with…Restless Legs Syndrome!
If you haven’t heard of RLS, start watching more TV. Restless Legs Syndrome is a terrifying condition that causes people’s legs…brace yourselves…to get tingly. RLS fidgeted its way into my heart the very first time I saw the commercial for its treatment. Now it’s definitely my favorite disease (well, that and gout). And could there be a better subject for a novel? My heroine will be an outcast because her legs will act up and keep her from sleeping. She will cry and curse the gods and gnash her teeth. Then, of course, she will come to accept and even love her RLS, realizing it makes her who she is.
God, what a genius idea. Oprah Winfrey Show, here I come!