Brit Lit Wit
Before my first book, Race Through The Forest, was published last year, a colleague gave me a good-natured ribbing by telling me that I would not be considered a real author until I had been panned by some snooty British critic. Well, I guess I've become a real author.
John Naish of the UK-based "newspaper" The Times wrote a rather scathing (albeit highly amusing) review of GUST - The "Tale" Wind of Office Politics. What makes it amusing is that his only premise of criticism is the animal comparisons that I make (snake, ostrich, bear), which altogether comprise less than 5% of the content of the book. While I would never come right out and accuse Mr. Naish or The Times of lacking the journalistic integrity it takes to read a book before reviewing it (my wife's high school students know better than that, so I'm assuming a so-called journalist would as well), he certainly leaves open the perception that he merely Googled the Register article and thought he could turn around a quick writing assignment without much effort.
But enough of his writing and researching skills, I really enjoyed his snarky ramblings about using animals to prove a point. I'm sure he'll be picking on George Orwell or Beatrix Potter next. Imagine their nerve, using whole entire animal farms and cute little bunny rabbits to drive home the moral of the story. As Mr. Naish deftly points out:
It’s a shame he stops at three. How about the corporate flatfish? They’re usually beige, floundering, with eyes extremely close together. It’s easy to walk on them without even knowing. Or the workplace llama. Cute-looking, apparently harmless and very woolly, they are equipped with three sets of fighting teeth designed to rip off rivals’ genitals when things get rough.
And what of the office gazebo? Oh. Sorry, that’s a different management-book concept entirely: is your boss a well-known garden structure archetype?
Besides the animal critique, there was one other sentence in his short review which I found most entertaining of all:
Rivalry is always intense for the accolade of worst-named business book of the year, but I know which one my money’s on.
So here is where I want your input, my fun-loving readers. I have two contests in which I would like your participation:
- Besides animals and garden structure archetypes, what analogy would you have used to help people understand office politics?
- What would you have named a business fable about office politics?
The person who can come up with the most ludicrous, most outlandish alternative idea that I could have used for my book that would have really set Mr. Naish on edge wins a free autographed copy. One winner for each category. Entries are due next Monday, June 4 at 11:59 PM CDT. Mr. Naish can even play, too, if he wants. But he's already done enough; thanks to him, I'm now a "real author."
P.S. I did leave him a comment on the article already, thanking him for the publicity and inviting him to call me for an interview once he's had a chance to read the book.

While at
I've always been amused by the scenes in movies when people are gathered around an attorney's office for the reading of the last will and testament of a deceased person. There are usually a bunch of well dressed people sitting in high back leather chairs in a mahogany paneled office with soft music playing in the back ground. They build up the suspense and then it all becomes pretty formulaic: somebody inherits something great that they weren't expecting, and somebody else receives some tacky little trinket (or nothing at all) and felt they deserved more. Then there are a few "You don't deserve that" comments thrown around, a threat or two to contest the will. Then switch to the next scene.
No, I'm not writing a book report on pre-millennial rapture fiction.
Tony D. Clark












I'm starting a new periodic post series that I'm simply entitling MOST. The purpose is to get you, the reader, to engage in blog conversation (but something fun and a little light-hearted). I know I have hundreds of subscribers and visitors daily, so somebody is out there reading this blog. It's your turn to talk.
I've always taken issue with my name. Tim Johnson. There's only... what... a zillion of us on the planet? No offense to my parents... they sort of came with the name "Johnson" so that wasn't really up for debate. And the name "Tim" was a relatively commonly regularly-overused name back in the mid-sixties... why not? Actually, as I've gotten older, I have found I prefer my given name, Timothy, over the shortened version, but still... not helping much in the distinguishing factor.






