Never fear, the regularly scheduled bonus email for paid subscribers will still come out tomorrow. But first, an important reminder: Books exist. Specifically, my books. As a published author, 99 percent of my time is supposed to be spent promoting them (with the other 1 percent dedicated to procrastination), but in that duty, I have failed. I like writing more than I like selling, which, oddly enough, makes me a very bad author. I should have flipped those two skill sets if I wanted to make the New York Times Best Seller List. But today I’ll attempt to make up for my shortcomings by reminding you that there’s still time to buy one (or more) of my books as a gift for someone you love. Or like. Or outright hate. The right book to the wrong person can be the ultimate passive aggressive snub. Wield these books to help or hurt whoever you so choose.
I’ve written so many books that I barely remember what’s in my back catalog, so I’m certain you don’t either. Here’s a brief overview of what I have to offer. Remember, all books double as excellent paper weights and coasters, or, in more extreme circumstances, kindling and toilet paper. The less I know about what happens to my books after you buy them, the better.
Only Dead on the Inside: A Parent’s Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse
This was the start of my writing career, and nearly the end of it. I got my first book deal shortly after I went viral on Twitter. Everyone in the publishing industry wanted me to write a version of Shit My Dad Says, but with kid quotes. Instead, I wrote a parenting guide to surviving the undead. Why the pivot? For one thing, I fear success and am passionately dedicated to sabotaging my own career. That’s what makes me so fun at parties. For another thing, I didn’t want to be defined by what I do on Twitter. My tweets are a mix of truth, fiction, and exaggeration, as opposed to my newsletters, which are 100 percent true, except for the parts where I use hyperbole, and the other parts where I obviously lie. For some reason, I thought you had to be more honest in books. To avoid being called out as a fraud on Oprah, I decided to write a book that was 100 percent lies. Ironically, the publishing industry classified my book as non-fiction. Apparently they know something about zombies I don’t. To date, this is my best selling book. That might be because it’s the one that’s been out the longest, but it also might be because it works. Not a single person who’s read this book has died in a zombie attack. Take that for what it’s worth.
Bare Minimum Parenting: The Ultimate Guide to Not Quite Ruining Your Child
This book, by far, contains the most real advice of anything I’ve ever written. It started out as the opposite of one of those books by a tiger mom. Instead of doing everything to help your child overachieve, I set out to discover what was the bare minimum you could do to raise a mostly functional adult. In the process, I accidentally proved a real point: When it comes to parenting, less is often more, and a kid with a laid back mom or dad will turn out better than one who’s constantly being pressured to be perfect at everything. Despite my best efforts to never positively contribute to society, this book might legitimately help you become a better parent and convince you to relax at the same time. I hate it when I accidentally make the world a better place.
How to Survive Ostrich Attacks, Accidental Time Travel, and Anything Else that Might Happen on an Average Tuesday
If you like the more surrealist side of my humor, this book is for you. Rather than focusing on a single absurd premise, like the zombie apocalypse or being as lazy as possible, I focused on dozens of extreme and extremely unlikely situations. I go through everything from protecting your kid from a shark attack to saving them from alien abductions and everything in between. There’s even a section on how to survive being assaulted by butterflies. They’re a bigger threat than you think. I had entirely too much fun coming up with this stuff. Arguing with my editor about the finer points of going back in time to arm wrestle a T. rex was definitely a highlight of my writing career, even if it was the lowest point of hers. I feel sorry for people who have to put actual research into their books. It’s way more efficient to just make it all up.
Prance Like No One’s Watching: A Guided Journal for Exploding Unicorns
This is the book you're the most likely not to have heard of. Normally, I write about kids for adults. This was my first book for kids about adults and the rest of the world. It’s a workbook where I provide the prompts and children fill in the blanks. The goal is to help them find the humor in their everyday lives. Basically, it will turn them into miniature versions of me. Take that as an endorsement or a warning. It’s aimed at kids between eight and ten and is perfect for keeping children distracted on rainy afternoons or long car trips. You’re not buying a book; you’re purchasing a few hours of silence. You can’t put a price on that, unless you’re a bookstore, in which case you definitely can.
How to Be a Man (Whatever That Means): Lessons in Modern Masculinity from a Questionable Source
This is my most autobiographical book. If you’ve ever wondered why I have house pigs or flamed out at journalism, this one has all the answers. It also has the only serious chapter I’ve ever written. It’s a story of loss that many people can relate to, even if you wish you couldn’t. This book is my mom’s favorite, but somehow I doubt that sharing that fact is an effective sales technique. It also starts out with an entire chapter about my brother Harry. To date, he has not read that chapter nor a single word of any other book I’ve ever written, but I think he did buy one of them, so thanks for the royalty money I guess.
The Chosen Twelve
Somewhere along the line, I convinced a publisher to let me give the whole parenting thing a break and write sci-fi instead. Of course, I used that chance to write about kids. These are kids with swords fighting robots, though, so it’s a little different than my usual content. Except when Waffle is involved. She does that kind of thing all the time. This was my first book to earn a write-up in Publisher’s Weekly and to be named an Amazon Editor’s Choice. More importantly, it earned a sequel. I’m under contract to write the next book in the series. It’s what I should be writing right now. Instead, I’m emailing you.
If you want to help a small business, you can get copies of all of these books from Main Street Books in Lafayette, Indiana. The old owner, my friend Tamzin, lost her battle with cancer last year. Her widower recently sold the store to the owners of the Second Flight Books, the other local bookstore in town. They’re now running both stores, so Tamzin’s business lives on, carrying out its original mission. They still have 40 signed copies of The Chosen Twelve. For any other books you order from them, some may be signed and the rest will likely have signed bookplates. You can get those copies here:
For international readers or people who would rather go through a bigger retailer, I have those options listed here.
Become a Paid Subscriber
Every year, I give out the word count equivalent of a full book in free newsletters. I write the equivalent of a second book in bonus newsletters for paid subscribers. It’s better than a book, though, because it’s a two-way conversation that you can respond to in real time in the comment section. It’s also better because I get a way higher cut from the subscription fees than I do from book royalties. If you became a paid subscriber for just two months and then canceled, I would earn more from those ten dollars than I would if you bought every book on this list. Somehow, that’s both encouraging and depressing at the same time. You can also give a paid subscription as a gift, in case you’ve got someone who likes to laugh and absolutely doesn’t need one more physical present taking up space in their life. It’s even better for the environment. Exactly zero trees die when I send an email.
My newsletter offers more than just humor. Someone emailed me last week and said—this is an exact quote—“Your post may save my life.” I had written a bonus email about an experimental treatment I received to win my war on c. diff. It turns out one reader was battling the same thing, but my cutting-edge treatment wasn’t available in their area. I gave them the name and number for my doctor. So in summary, my Substack account is a great source of stupid jokes and, in one case, life-altering medical information. I can’t tell you how satisfied all my paid subscribers are, but at least one person got their five dollars worth.
Anyway, that’s all I’ve got for now. Good luck with the Christmas gifts this year. You’re going to need it.
James
Important Holiday Reminder