James Franco, the Halfwit Prince, authored 2010’s story collection, using his nana’s old recipe for Narrative Swill. Stick to this formula, and you also can produce a volume that’s thick on pages, thin on insight. You will need:
One (1) Unprocessed Wad of Autobiographical Episodes
One (1) Series of Transparently Unresolved Yet Quite Boring Sexual Identity Issues of Which You Are Last to Be Aware
One (1) Wildly Inflated Sense of Your Own Abilities (where available, opt for Cage-Free)
One (1) Fallacy That Your Typings Constitute Insight (though this is tougher to crack open than an ostrich egg or a coconut, the Derivative Slop inside are crucial to attaining the right viscous mouth feel)
A Baker’s Dozen (Like 9, Since Math is Not Your Thing) Characters Who Do Not Change Over the Course of Your Narrative
Six (6) Cups Low-Stakes Violence - sprinkle throughout
Rounded Handful of Philosophical Musings That Would Blow the Mind of a 13-Year-Old. With a Developmental Disability.
One (1) Million-Eyed Star Fucker, Licking at the Red Carpet Where Your Foot Has Fallen
Season to taste with Street Names that Fail to Convey Any Sense of Place
Fold together in Style of Dimly Remembered Abandoned First Draft of Denis Johnson. While he was on Thorazine.
In an ungreased baking pan oven pre-heated to room temperature, set this bland mush for three (3) semesters. It won’t have been fully baked, to be sure, but a skin will form. Submit to publisher. Dust with Fawning Blurbs. Serve with Overdesigned Spectacles.