Influencer Marketing 101: A Rookie's Guide to Forging Relationships with Key Influencers. Non-Fiction Book Proposal

Title. Influencer Marketing 101

Subtitle. A Rookie's Guide to Forging Relationships with Key Influencers: Learn to Swim with the Sharks!

Summary. Influencer marketing and influencer psychology are a relatively new field of knowledge. While other researchers and authors describe the tools and methods of influencer marketing in corporate paradigms, e.g. spreading brand awareness or achieving specific sales objectives, I am focusing on influencer networking and influencer relations management for individuals.

This "rookie's guide" is for new and obscure talents who want to promote themselves by learning "to swim with the sharks" i.e. by exposing themselves to top influencers in their particular field, building relationships with them, and ultimately obtaining some form of endorsement by one or more major achievers or decision-makers.

While keeping in mind that everyone is an influencer, the new influence networker:

• - will learn how to build and operate their influencer network,

------- and how to avoid mistakes and missteps when doing that,

• - will learn about the core differences between the four levels of influence,

------ and about ways to act within each level;

• - will read about the five types of influencer psyche,

------ and will learn how to approach persons belonging to each particular type,

• - will learn how to determine the actual worth, influence-wise, of their influencer network members by applying some social media ratios I specifically devised for this purpose, as well as my patented E.U.F.O.R.I.A. approach (Energy. Utterance. Footprint. Outreach. Resonance. Impression. Awareness),

------- and, in particular, will be disillusioned about some holy cows like the Klout score, but will nevertheless be reassured about their particular if not universal usefulness,

• - will learn how to create content specifically designed and optimized to attract the attention of influencers,

-------- with case studies of sensitive content like humor and sarcasm,

• - will learn how to start interacting with key influencers,

-------- with case studies of stuff that works and stuff that doesn't,

• - will decide whether he/she is ready to invest in a software suite for influencer relations management,

------- with case studies of Traackr and Onalytica,

• - will learn how to act in order to build mutually fruitful and beneficial relationships with key influencers,

--------- with case studies as well, and

• - will learn much more...

-------- ... from research I have done, from facts I have explained, from case studies based on my own experience and practice, and from homework I will be setting every now and then.

Note: For this project, I made up an alter ego, the Metatag Hag, who introduces particular bits of advice in a rather snarky tone in order to lighten up the text and ensure a more enjoyable reading experience. Other reasons for having the author speak in two voices was my intention to create an illusion of dialogue and to counterbalance the seriousness of the topics.

There will also be a pictogram representing the Metatag Hag and introducing her bits of advice.

Demographics: both sexes, age: 21-60+, education: college and higher.

Psychographics: the proverbial "chiropractor who feels he has a novel in him" i.e. talents who feel they have potentially great ideas in their heads but do not want to be lost in a sea of bloggers, Tweeters, social media dwellers, and other "small fish". To continue the line of metaphors, even if the readers see themselves as baby sharks, swimming with the big ones takes some learning and training.

Note: If the readers want to position themselves as key-influencers-in-the-making from the start, and feel they could attract the attention of, and belong with other key influencers due to their talents, this book will come in useful. It will allow the readers to concentrate on honing their skills and building a network of influencers - quickly, efficiently, and without making common or less common mistakes.

It would take years to study archetypal psychology, behaviorism and transactional analysis, to learn to develop behavior tactics function of influencer archetypes, to test influencer platform management software, or to take a course on mathematics applied in economics in order to figure out what the Tweet-to-followee ratio has to do with influencer worth... and to make, rectify, and learn from a bunch of mistakes of their own in lots of dealings with top influencers. The Metatag Hag and I, having studied all of the above and more, will save the readers a lot of legwork with this collection of swimming lessons for baby sharks.

Competitive Analysis.

Influencer: The Power to Change Anything by Al Switzler et al.
Similarity: some psychological concepts taken as basis.
Differences:
- My focus is on contextual rather than personal influence. I also give advice not on becoming a better influencer, but on building relationships with influencers in specific fields where my potential reader wants to become a top achiever.
- While Influencer discusses the individual's power to change the world, I am discussing the individual's power to make their talent noticed by already affirmed talents.
- Influencer is, in some reviewers' opinion, believed to be either a self-help book or a set of theories accompanied by anecdotal case studies. Influencer Marketing 101 is in essence a DIY book with case studies and mistake analysis from my own experience and practice.
- Their set of tools is based on behaviorism and traditional networking. My own tools are rooted in social media marketing, SEO, and archetypal psychology.

How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie
Similarities: certain techniques used for relationship-building
- Carnegie is mostly criticized for underestimating assertiveness. Ex.: "Many people will blatantly abuse niceness. The truth is, that in the real world of today, too much kindness is taken as a sign of weakness and those who try to win friends and influence people in the way Carnegie recommends, all too often end up used and abused." While I do not tell my potential readers to turn into complete doormats, I also do not recommend acting boorishly just for the sake of asserting something that is totally irrelevant to the situation. Level 2 influencers - the main target of my potential readers i.e. public personas who interact with large audiences every day - are normally very polite and considerate. So, many of Carnegie's principles, even though considered outdated by some critics, are still applicable in a framework where it is important to present oneself not only as a talent, but as a well-bred and well-spoken person. Moreover, some of Carnegie's principles are as applicable as ever in the context of business communications, to which my recommendations for building influencer-influencee relationships are related in many ways.
Differences:
- Set of tools; social context (see above).
- With this bit of critique contra Carnegie, I happen to agree. "The techniques in this book basically converted this man into a robot. Nobody really knows what kinds of things he's interested in - although at first you think his interests have a lot in common with yours. The man has no sincerity or credibility. When I see him smiling I don't know if he is genuinely happy or just trying to appear pleasant." However, people today are jumping to the other extreme: wearing their hearts on their sleeves, passing unpleasantness for sincerity and adopting unsavory behavioral techniques like calling someone they barely know "bi*ch" in a misguided effort to appear genuine. I am not trying to teach potential readers to be sycophants and flatterers. I just advocate demonstration of respect and affability in your relationships with people who have achieved more than you did in your particular field.

The Influencer: One Hundred Seven Lessons on Being Effective Without Being a Jerk by Nick Wolff

Similarities: case studies from corporate experience.

Differences: just like Influencer by Switzler et al., this is a book discussing steps towards becoming a better influencer in the personal rather than contextual paradigm. In other words, leadership, not influencer marketing.

Networking Is Not Working: Stop Collecting Business Cards and Start Making Meaningful Connections by Derek Coburn

Similarities: pointers and tips on relationship-building vs. traditional networking.

Differences: context. Coburn discusses business-to-business relationships and networking, not particularly influencer-influencee relationship-building.

Estimated length: ~100,000 words
Estimated delivery date: ~ March 1, 2015 (approx. 50% of material is already drafted and/or written)

Table of Contents with Outlines

Intro (see full text below)

Chapter 1. Build your influencer network
Outline:
Case study: Kissinger's translator (language services; the "five handshakes" theory, and how much or how little may the one handshake between me and the President of Israel mean)
Sample: 

Chapter 2. Operate your influencer network
Outline:
Case study: Monetize your mistakes (fiction writing; negotiation-jitsu; self-publishing strategy: pluses and shortcomings; how I self-published a 500-page novel for 1 British pound)
Sample:

Chapter 3. The four levels of the influence pyramid
Outline:
Case study: The mediator genie (language services; how a long-term relationship with a level 2 influencer landed me a contract with the Ministry of Interns of France)
Sample:

Chapter 4. The five types of influencer psyche
Outline:
Case study: The graveyard shift (semiotics; design; key influencer psychology; behavior patterns; how I was mentored by Umberto Eco's apprentice)
Sample:

Chapter 5. Ratios for a rational selection of your influencers
Outline:
Case study: Harry Potter and the Analysis of Influence Worth (social media marketing; estimating influence inside and outside the social media; the ratios I researched and/or invented; how I dissected the Klout Score holy cow)
Sample:

Chapter 6. E.U.F.O.R.I.A. - Energy. Utterance. Footprint. Outreach. Resonance. Impression. Awareness. - my patented approach to influencing and being influenced
Outline:
Case study: how I did my homework with the E.U.F.O.R.I.A. of several of my Twitter follower/followees: Josh Stern and the need for thick hide. Selena Gomez and #MakeAnInfluencerSmile. Michael Hyatt, Elise Stokes, and Thomas G Ray. The Ice Bucket Challenge and the Randomness of Virality. My own E.U.F.O.R.I.A. (social media marketing) 
Sample:

Chapter 6. All hail her Majesty the Content: Sensitive material
Outline:
Case study: Do not forget to hold up a SARCASM card (fiction writing; handling sensitive material; how I had my own hashtag fail on the eve of the Pitch Wars)
Sample:

Chapter 7. All hail her Majesty the Content: SEO optimization
Outline:
Case study: Curing cancer in Korea (SEO; guidelines for writing and optimizing content; how I was contracted to write SEO articles)
Sample:

Chapter 8. All hail her Majesty the Content: Trending
Outline:
Case study: The Hashtag Fail List (social media marketing; Susan Boil's album announcement, McDonald's true stories, etc. How I use memes and #funnystuffontheInternet to prove a point)
Sample:

Chapter 9. The point where you decide to spend or not to spend more money on your influencers
Outline:
Case study: I compare Traackr and Onalytica influencer relations management platforms. You decide.
Outline:

Chapter 10. Start swimming!
Outline:
Build your influencer's profile based on what you had read and on this questionnaire:

Type of influencer psyche?
Level of influence?
Reachability?
Approachability?
Busyness?
Why your ideas may be of interest to him/her?
What can you do for him/her?
What he/she can do for you?

Then:
Prepare your approach strategy
Prepare your interaction strategy
Prepare your offer

Case study: Anastasia swimming in circles around the Query Shark (relationship-building, right steps and missteps, me making a case study out of "courting" a top influencer, the Gob and Jane series, and Chinese classical poetry)

Outro
Outline: conclusion and pitch for Book 2.

Sample chapter:

Intro.

This body of information and advice is not for marketing or SEO specialists who know it all about how to push a product to the first Google search results page. I have written this book for the regular talented person.

No, that is not a typo. Someone once said, "there will be no ordinary people in the twenty-first century. Earth will be home to seven billion talented, special, extraordinary people." Today, this is not a sci-fi writer's dream. This is happening.

So, are you a brilliant mind who wants to spend time working on their skills, not spending a lot of time chasing followers in an ocean of bloggers, Tweeters, and other "small fish"?

Are you in fact a shark star in the making?

You just don't know how to swim with the big Kahunas?

I am reaching out to the regular creative but not quite marketing-savvy mind in Uncle Sam manner. I want YOU to make it! I want YOU to be the hot news!

Important people talking about you among themselves and telling about you to the world - this is the Mount Olympus of the social media era. And this is your goal.

A Word from the Metatag Hag

After all, we all know the second page of Google results is the perfect place to hide something, like evidence to a crime. Seriously, though, if you are an individual vying for public attention, being on the first search results page is as difficult as climbing Everest, let alone Olympus. If you are trying to hide something nasty, don't hope even the 100th Google search results page will help. This is the paradox of our life.

 So don't do nasty things and be careful with every step. This is my advice to everyone - to influencer marketing students in particular.

 Let's suppose you are strictly a man or woman of letters or a starry-eyed Game of Thrones fan. You know little about marketing, less about Jung's archetypes or Berne's games people play, and zilch about mathematics applied in economics, econometrics or statistics. Your talent is to design mega action figures or draw supercool graphic novels, and you don't just want the world to find out about it. You want your special product to become a household name.

Metatag Hag:

For instance, you have a killer TV show idea, you're working on the script, you're enjoying yourself swimming in your little sea of creativity. After all, any writer will tell you that the writing part is the best and easiest part. But don't forget it was the promo of your work that at some point, made you utter all the expletives you knew.

So the usual advice is: be smart, learn from your past mistakes, and dedicate equal amounts of time to both activities - creating and promoting what you create. Its value notwithstanding, you must bear this in mind: the more time you spend promoting yourself, the less time you have left for honing your skills and becoming the brilliant talent other sharks are bound to notice.

For a creative mind striving to reveal its talents to the world, one way is to build a network of relationships that can ultimately bring accreditation and endorsement by top level influencers or KEY influencers.

Influencer marketing and influencer psychology are subjects of growing importance within the greater field of Marketing Management.

Contrary to the common belief, the hot shots are not the only influencers - your neighbor is an influencer, too. Your little sister with her blog and her 5,000+ Facebook friends - even more so. If you're promoting a musical product, your neighborhood's garage band is the first to befriend - trust me, they know all the sites and are following all the people. Don't forget about Grandma and her book club, too!

 The difference is level and impact; horizontal and vertical influence.

Business owners, literary agents with popular blogs, Hollywood producers - those are top level influencers. As the infographic shows, they can give you more reach, but the degree of influence will be lower. 

As for your own influence on them... to them, "unforgettable" is not what it means to the rest of the world.

So don't be afraid to show to mountain-top sitters in what particular way you are unforgettable.

 Metatag Hag: ...but beware gimmicks!

Bottom line: if you want to sing with Justin Bieber, you have to start by impressing your Mom.

 Now, let's take it you have the first two levels covered. Your family, friends, and friends of friends know about your new product. You have a small but devoted fandom who like you and think you are worthy of acclaim.Yet they cannot give you the endorsement that can land you a network of high-profile contacts and eventually a contract.

 We all know the old adage about making one step at a time.

Metatag Hag: To rephrase an old Danube-Carpathian saying, "if you want sausages for the holidays, you should not start fattening your pig on Christmas Eve".

So, if you want your product to be in stores by Christmas, start working on your influencer network now.

 Actually, you should have started in February, but you're not a megacorp and you don't play by their rules. Nor do you have their resources. Luckily, you have all the tools to start promoting your talent at zero expense. Just use your old toys - blogs, pages, Twitter, Pinterest - things you only used for a little blah-blah-show before.

 Metatag Hag: Influencer networking is a key strategy in your battle plan. Every day, we are both influencing and being influenced by someone or something.

You know any friendship can have great intrinsic value. Just imagine what resources you can tap by building a relationship with a powerful person! This is exactly why you need more time to hone your skills - key influencers tend to befriend brilliant people who, for their turn, have the potential of becoming key influencers some day.

This is why you need this book. It will teach you how to build and manage influencer relationships on all levels. You will learn to handle this or that kind of influencer properly - without spending years on studying things Anastasia and I are serving on a silver platter for you.

We will also share lots of details about our mistakes... so your own would be less frequent or grievous.

So, let's learn to swim with the sharks! We will start with Chapter 1: Build your Influencer Network.

Sincerely yours,
Anastasia Stratu and the Metatag Hag

My profile:

Language services specialist - speak five, read and understand three more languages, 16 years in the language services, a career path from translating personal correspondence after school to running my own language services boutique company for over three years.

Professional interests: translation | terminology | interpreting | proofreading | revision | management | consulting | theory and practice of negotiations| semiotics | lexicology | structural linguistics.

Academic interests: Jungian archetypal psychology | behaviorism | transactional analysis.

Field research: social media management and marketing | SEO/SEM | influencer marketing | influencer psychology.

Since March 2014 - SEO writer for NEO Informatics Co.

Education: pre-university lyceum student of modern languages and world literature with strong emphasis on reviewing and critical analysis. International Business Management major and Translations minor. Additional courses and/or training: economic journalism, economic semiotics.

Other: Fiction author. Oxford comma fan.

My platform for marketing the book (TBD):

Social media;
Own influencer network;
Established relationships and contacts, both local and international;
Public speaking.

Influencer Marketing 101. Homework. Compare 5 Books to 5 Drinks

Attention: humor & sarcasm ahead!

Today, the Metatag Hag and I are back over to you, dear reader, with a reminiscence on our youth and some of the books that made the Hag become, well, a hag, and helped yours truly now help you... not only network with influencers, but become an influencer yourself.

Metatag Hag: Yet today is a non-working day, which is perfect for some background development. Last year, I wrote this little text. Today, I am a) recycling and amending it; b) using it as a template to set some homework for you.

Yeah, life sucks, but it's not my fault. Have a drink and get to writing!

Compare five of your favorite books to five of your favorite drinks.

Hermione Anastasia: Me first, me firster! :)

The Moor’s Last Sigh by Sir Salman Rushdie is like very old fine cognac. You have to take it in small and carefully savored doses in order to appreciate it fully.

If you try to devour the entire book in one evening, it’s the same as drowning a bottle of old Martell in a gulp. Waste of really cool product, and a most banal type of hangover to add insult to the injury.

Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling is like that bubbly toxic sugary lemonade spiked with vodkaby some evil genius.

It is impossible to fathom why a sane adult - or sane kid, for that matter - would willingly want to drink that stuff (spiked or not), but let’s presume that you do.

Before long, you will start seeing Gandalf-like bearded characters sending sparks out of twigs, bespectacled demure Neo-like kids who wonder why it had to be bloody them, all the way to the climax, and an array of colorful fantastic beasts and where to find them.

Moreover, you will probably feel like a fantastic beast. Or seriously think you actually are one. After that, vodka-spiked lemonade will become a permanent resident of your fridge - or bookshelf, for that matter.

The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas-père is like beer. You can take as much as you want or can possibly hold in one séance  - with occasional visits to the bathroom.

Yet you always come back for more, and there are literally no after-effects but a slightly sore head and the regret for your system being unable to work faster. Or you’d be able to consume much more in one go and get even merrier.

Twilight by Stephenie Meyer is like Bloody Bella. Please rein in your WTF waterfalls. I will explain.

It’s a cocktail like Bloody Mary, it's just that instead of vodka and tomato juice it contains:

- Emo kids’ tears collected in new moon after a bad breakup;

-  Tomato juice is replaced by guess what;

... and you can keep the Worcestershire sauce if you’re old, sad, and traditional.

If you’re a genuine connoisseur, you will add a sprinkle of finely chopped werewolf hair. The really cool extreme savvies use whole werewolf hair. A little touch of vampire spit will add edge to it.

The results are unpredictable.

• You are likely to join the Robsten cult and have their kissing pictures tattooed all over your body. This is actually not a joke, my friend can bring body of evidence - literally -  to the case.

• You will maybe wear plastic fangs to work in the futile attempt to seduce your shy attractive colleague.

• You can also develop fake lycanthropy and get to wear your grandmother’s moth-eaten sable furs on a 24/7/365 basis.

• Three-plus Bloody Bellas can eventually make you join a pack of stray dogs.

But the adult reasonable person inside you will understand the allusion to the ketchupped vodka instead: in the morning, you will think: OK, it was good yesterday at the party, but why did I have to drink at all?

Waiting for the Barbarians by J.M. Coetzee is like absinthe.

You take a shot, you go like “Whoa! Who am I and where am I?”, then dive into a hallucination worthy of Timothy Leary.

Next morning, you wish you were never born, because your head feels like a large hadron collider.

And you wish you never had a brain as you are lost in philosophical flashbacks so deep and intricate that it will be a long time before you get back to where you put the book (or the glass) down.

To be continued...

P.S. You are asking, dear reader, why I made you do this? Remember, your influencers are powerful people who can afford to both drink and read. And they have great sense of humor, so if you manage to make them smile, you're good.

Metatag Hag: Real good.

The True Story of the Vortex. The Transcendence Files. Prologue. Draft.

The True Story of the Vortex. The Transcendence Files

by A.D. Stratu

(c) 2014. All rights reserved.

Prologue

Brock Cairn, December 1996

‘You know, Doctor Court? Maybe...’ I pause.

‘Yes, Agata?’

‘Please… call me Gate. Anyway, I think the problem is the cultural field I grew up in,’ I explain.

Doctor Court looks at me puzzled, his bald patch glistening in the soft lamp light. He is very old. I stare at his seahorse-patterned tie. The fabric hippocampi seem to mock me in their dumb jolliness.

I was definitely right to rephrase the hell out of my sentence. What I initially wanted to ask was a question about the behavioral influence of my noosphere.

‘Dreams are the only loophole in the ironclad Western psyche. If I were born in India with a long line of Brahman ancestors in my wake, I’d probably feel totally OK. Like a unicorn in an enchanted forest’, I elaborate. Dr. Court doesn’t like it. To him, my way to speak is yet another sign of my… deviances.

’I think the Vortex dreams are somehow related to my short-term amnesia.’ I continue. ‘How come I don’t remember one single day? It’s like it was deleted off my brain by the Men in Black! Is it even medically possible – amnesias with that kind of selectiveness?’

I can see he’s irritated. Of course. No one likes know-it-alls, especially if they’re teenagers.

‘The Men in Black?’ he asks, frowning.

‘I made a reference to an obscure 1953 graphic novel! Not that I was abducted by aliens!’

Outrageous. OK, calm now, Gate. He’s just a stupid shrink.

‘I think that little comic’s got potential, though.’

How long has it been now? I’ve been having those dreams since I was a little girl in boarding school, after Rose, Ginger and I spent our Christmas in the woods. That was quite a story: we disappeared, we were found on the next day, and none of us remembered a thing.

Another mystery is that all three of us were lightly dressed, and winters in Scotland are no mean feat. However, none of us had any signs of hypothermia or frostbite. The 24 hours of our absence were obliterated from our minds. Several days later, I saw my first Sol Vortex dream.

The girls were successfully guidance-counseled back to normalcy or whatever passes for it these days. My parents still keep on inflicting shrink after shrink on me.

Now I got Dr. Court and his nefarious tie. Marvelous.

‘Never mind,’ he says dryly. ‘You still cannot tell me what exactly happens in the dreams?’

‘I don’t remember the exact events’, I say truthfully, for the thousandth time, I think.

Yes, the action is always different and always forgotten as I awake. The surroundings are always the same. Violet oceans, amethyst and diamond rocks, majestic suns in multicolored skies home to the Celestial Castle… talking, almost sapient plants, ferocious predators, subsurface so rich the inhabitants carve citadels out of precious crystalline rock… Values so different, power balances so complex, evils so dangerous…

I call it The Vortex.

Sometimes it’s so beautiful I wake up crying. Sometimes it’s so terrifying I wake up screaming. And some day, when I will be able to capture the dreams, I will write the story of it.

Right now, as I stare at Dr. Court’s tie, I have no idea it will become the true story of the Sol Vortex.

***

16 years later

To: L.N. Axelsson <l.n.axelsson@gmail.com>

From: A.D.C. Whitcomb-Carson <info@fantasyvortex.com>

Date: Tue 16 Feb, 2012 03:05:14

Subject: A little self-analysis… please don’t be mad

Dear friend,

I know you don’t like ruminations, but you are the only person I can possibly talk to… I obviously can’t tell him, he’ll just freak out and blame himself, as usual. Rose is out of the question, unless she’s an undercover Starplayer – she fits the race description all right. I guess I’ll never figure out the amount of lies that you guys have built around me.

When I was writing my Skydwellers game draft, I had absolutely no idea of how my dreams would shape up my life, or how sharply that life – a senseless petty existence – would mutate into something so different that I changed unrecognizably as my life was changing.

I can say with certainty that I am no longer the Gate Carson who embarked on that journey of a thousand roads starting with merely a few weird dreams and a passion for an exceptional and inaccessible man. And it still scares me.

Still, I regret nothing, not a single moment in my beautiful, dangerous, soon-to-be-over life. Please don’t frown. You know my time is numbered down to seconds, still many of them, but each is murderously short.

We have a story, though. The most wonderful story. The story that brought to life so many things… two civilizations, my best friend, and the man I will love forever.

I wish I knew where to start ending it… will it be the Maya who will put an end to my misery?

Thank you for listening.

Gate

The True Story of the Vortex. The Transcendence Files. Chapter 1. Three Men in a Band. Draft. Fragment.

The True Story of the Vortex. The Transcendence Files.

By A.D. Stratu

(c) 2014. All rights reserved.

Chapter 1. Three Men in a Band

'OK, Xelle, one more time.'

His voice.

His voice, silver and velvet, was heaven and hell to me. And purgatory, and absolving fire, and bloody ice bucket shower. All of it cascading into my poor sinner's soul.

Yeah, hi, this is still me. Agata Carson, trust fund brat, cheater, liar, smoker, sex addict, maker of the Vortex, blah-blah. Only it is called Sol Vortex, and it is tech, not damned Middle-earth. And I am working hard to stay sane by sleeping with my ex, not planning to move to the suburbs and get a minivan or something.

No. All of the above is not true.

I am presently hanging out by the door of a recording studio and dying.

He is back. My Rob is back.

How dare you? To my Earth? After we said goodbye forever?

How dare you?

Nolementar mine...

I caught my breath. The breath did not obey.

Obey, Gate. Control yourself. You're not in Brock Cairn any more.

Then I heard his band member reply. That was probably Xelle.

That voice was unfamiliar. Rougher, lower, more guttural. Loaded with sexy cynicism, but to me, it was as appealing as a dog's bark. I could hear only him.

'Sure, Rob. If you want to do J.U.N.O., for the millionth time today, let's do it. Who am I to argue?'

Then it hit me. Fire, ice, poison in my ears. Bubbles of ire and lust literally pinching my mouth like champagne. Asti bleeding Martini.

Away from the eyes
Off all scanners
This shuttle is a wreck
And deeper I go down, down into the darkness
I look for ways back

Well, I know, deep down
It's in your eyes I'll drown
For now
I will be the prayer in your temple...

The black marble wall of the Solaris Records hall was cold against my back. I shook my head violently, but it didn't help the tears in my eyes. My knees, already weakened by months of heavy working-out, were aching, so I just gave up and sat on the cold floor, and stared at the simple plaque.

THE TRESPASSERS. RECORDING STUDIO. AUTHORIZED ACCESS ONLY.

Silver. Blue. Black. His colors.

'No, Rob, it should go "I'll be the prayer in your temple", otherwise it won't fit the scansion. And the rhyme is screwed, if you ask me...'

The other voice was mocking, but I could now discern worry underneath the light scorn. And care, and concern. And Luminite musicality. Bloody hell. Another one.

'Well, I am not asking you... and I don't give green dragon shit about the scansion! Just pick up that bass, will you?'

'Whoa, Florin, who bit your dick this morning? A Gypsy?'

'Shut the fuck up and play, Xellevar!'

Whoa, that was new. Rob swearing? The Qu'El'Saruk military training camp must have been even worse than Lena had described. Hell on rollerblades, they called it.

The song went on, but I stopped listening. I knew he could feel my presence, but for some reason did not react. That was just wrong.

I wiped my tears furiously and stared at the door, analyzing. The lock was a joke. Unauthorized access my foot.

I got up and looked down. My foot was clad in a black Adidas running shoe. Perfect for kicking some Luminite butt.

In three quick steps, I crossed the hall and approached the door. My breath suddenly became a ball of lead in my throat. I will see him, I will see him now. After eighteen months of misery, I will see him now.

And he will see me. Oh dear Lord.

Straightened chin-long hair, dyed auburn. Kohl-lined gray eyes, acid green with tears, anger and sleep deprivation, emphasized by a decrepit second-hand green velvet blouse three sizes too large. Brown gangsta pants hiding two throwing knives secured to my calves by handmade sheaths. Blacked-out shades holding my hair back. Razor-edged geisha fan on my belt. And muscles. All over me.

Beautiful spring again. Then what, another trice-damned summer of love? No shit.

I inhaled, made a little jump, landing onto my left foot to give my right leg some momentum, then exhaled and kicked the studio door.

Well, I could say I did Lena and Pablo proud. Their efforts re: my training were evident. They made me ready for war. But they sure as Keaxy did not make me ready for this. For the resurrection of the love I buried... in my past, if not in my heart.

The door flew open with an earsplitting "BANG!", and three pair of Luminite eyes stared at me mid-note. Green, narrowed, and laughing. Golden-brown and widened with surprise, so much like my Lenatireya's.

And blue.

Blue... but not the blue I remembered. Turquoise now, like the Aegean. Like the sea by which we lost and found each other, and so many other treasures and curses.

Him.

My gaze slithered up and down on his body. Oh dear God. His hair was two shades lighter, discolored by suns and storms and heavens know what else. I was tall, but he was two heads taller than me now, probably due to his new posture, and he now wore a short well-trimmed beard. And he was huge.

Well, what did I expect? I was trained in a gym, he - in jungle and mountain and desert. Me - in Montreal. He - in Lauranarin, Level 4, in the camp whose name served to scare nasty children before bed. If you won't obey, I will send you to Qu'El'Saruk to clean battle dragons' stables.

And trust me, this is how you begin, no matter what your name is.

I looked back into his eyes and saw even greater surprise. Well, boo hoo, what did he expect? Did I look like freakin' Penelope?

'Hello assholes! Missed me? I for one didn't miss you!'

'Gate???'

The voice. The voice.

Somebody help me.

***

To be continued....

J.U.N.O.

Zarathustra Laughing. "Morning Stars" Album. By Duczewska and Schnapps.

Here comes the sun, they say
It burns our skins, they say
No, I say, it's not true
Wrong and wronger

It burns our eyes
Our souls, our spirits
Killing us and
Making us stronger

Chorus

Thus laughs Zarathustra
Fire, from the sky free fire
Thus speaks Zarathustra
Of murder and of desire
Thus speaks Zarathustra
Thus laughs Zarathustra
Thus shouts Zarathustra
Thus dies Zarathustra

We are laughing, we say
Laughing, so hell turns hotter
So heaven freezes over
Pain is gain, they say

Pain is your friend
Zarathustra is laughing
And Christ is your brand
So why are you crying?

Metro. Sexual?

Metro. Sexual?

Written - spring 2008. Amended - fall 2014.

Homophobia sucks. IMHO.

We the heterosexuals are a bit superior, of course, naturally so, because we are able to procreate without technology. But why judge if it’s still love?

Actually, I never understood the mechanism of homosexuality, but I think God had a reason to create such people, because the other side can’t create anything at all, no matter what the antis say about the undesirable elements being the spawn of the devil. Well, it’s their problem. By the way, does the Bible mention anything about homosexuality? I don’t really remember. Hee.

Anyway. I don’t know how fruit pie works. But I know (as any cosmopolitan does) how the beauty cult works. And the gay were the first ones to claim the right to beauty for men. That’s why there is no distinct line between them and the heterosexual parishioners of the beauty temples also known as metrosexuals (courtesy of Mark Simpson and his “Meet the Mirror Men”). No matter how the metrosexual is called now – ubersexual or whatever (thank heavens it’s not Radio-One-sexual), he is “alive and well and lives in my apartment”, as Jung in Rose Morgan’s interpretation used to say about myths.

So, metro it’ll be. As long as it's not a Subway sandwich, I am OK with it.

The outward appearance is a direct indicator of success in some circles, not to mention its importance for the attractiveness to the opposite (and sometimes the same) sex, which is applicable to all circles, from male peacocks to Warren Buffett. Now, the “some circles” reservation is there for a reason. The people who are fussy about their looks are usually involved in professional activities inseparable from vanity, to some extent. Actors, models, fashion journalists, advertising people, party girls and tarts.... and there are people proud of wearing $50 shoes and shopping at thrift stores. Well, they have their own ideas about good looks.

The desire to look good is not quantifiable or classifiable, and it’s not the issue here. It’s just funny how the benchmarks change. Kate Moss wouldn’t inspire Rubens, and the voluptuous shapes of Renaissance ladies are ousted of the beauty standards' ranks.

Bacchus by Peter Paul Rubens.
Yeah, this is a man. I Pinned it under the name "True Cellulite".

Contemporary ladies who had the luck of inheriting large hips (which is after all better for childbirth, which is the reason of our existence, as many people think) are torturing themselves with starvation diets and shed lonely tears over their fat-free cottage cheese.

I wonder where are all those men who say they’re not dogs to like bony carcasses and they’re all for a curvy body? And if it’s a lie, why that lie? Mercy compliment? Well, reality is reality: women’s magazines still make fortunes out of diet lists and skinny tall models don’t suffer of attention deficit. But the funniest thing is that men walk in our footsteps, too. They also want to be beautiful.

Mark Simpson is definitely a trend-setter in semantics, no matter how short-lived those trends are. The gay opposition rose as one against the queer-ization of heterosexuals, but it didn’t help. The word “metrosexual” features in songs, movies, magazines, books, blogs, bank statements, profit and loss accounts, balance sheets… Sorry. Got a bit carried away. And the manifesto is “I’m not fag, I’m just well-groomed”. But the “real males” (opposed to all labels and clichés) think they’re queer anyway. And it’s pretty unfair, if weird.

I mean, I can’t see a woman being too enchanted about her man wearing makeup and having more bottles and cans in the bathroom than she has. My best friend dated a metrosexual long before the word emerged. She almost went nuts. From the other hand, imagine the versatility of discussion topics between a metrosexual and an it-girl. Infinite. But I, for one, would be bored with endless fashion talk, unless it’s in the context of art. I mean, even Vogue bores me to death. Looking at the pictures is OK, but I’m well past the comic books age.

So a metrosexual, with his perfectly manicured hands and in-depth knowledge about labels, hidden seams and chemical peels would be wasted on me. Whereas a metrospiritual wouldn’t.

Now, I don’t intend to spread a new word. Wouldn’t succeed anyway. But it seems pretty accurate to me. Now, if David Beckham is the ultimate metrosexual, the ultimate metrospiritual would be Natalie Portman. Yes. It works for both sexes. Now, Natalie Portman is well-read, well-educated, well-traveled, an Ambassador of Hope and an environmental activist, and she has that distinct light of advanced intellect in her eyes that says loads to all - humans, Jedi, and R2D2-type Bleeping Bucketoids.

So, why the new word? Because it’s trendy to be “metro” and it was always trendy to be smart. “Gnostic” would probably suffice, but it’s more of a religion-studies term. But metrospirituals are not unlike the Gnostics in their constant pursuit of knowledge and new experiences. 

Metrospirituals are not nerds. No horrifying brackets and Woody Allen-ish eyeglasses. They are easily mistaken for metrosexuals until they open their mouths and start talking about the technology-era psyche or the financial implications of cybersex. But no makeup excesses, thank you very much. Neither for men nor for women. The best adjective describing them would actually be “knowledgeable”.

Knowledge. It’s not just piling up information in your head like in a human database file. It’s about musing, and reflecting, and analyzing, and creating, and moving to new frontiers. Men and women of such kind have their lives woven into adventure novels, but women do dress smart, and men do take showers, which would be the only requirement that a sound feminocrat would have to a man.

Well, some of us ladies do loathe dirty shoes, creased jackets, and dandruff, but these are the distinct signs of a bachelor i.e. target. Well, sometimes these paraphernalia of messiness are coupled with a wedding band, which doesn’t make it easier for single women.

We speak of choice so often that it has become an a priori condition of existence. And existence can be so much better when you choose to pamper your spirit, not just your body. The delights of fine literature, art, music, cuisine, fashion, travel, and even technology are at our disposal. Watching an old b&w movie on a miniature MP4 player on your flight to an experience trip to Bali, intermingling it with stock-market small-talk with the nice investment banker sitting next to you – what better reward can the civilization provide?

For now, as we don’t have mainstream space travel yet, confined to our tiny globe, we have to look for the God of Small Things in the well-known places. And as long as we have poverty, recession, collapsing bridges, natural disasters, melting ice-caps, polar vortexes, and high crime rates, we won’t declare ourselves victims of Utopian boredom.

I rather like the words of one of my favorite Soviet sci-fi writers: ‘In the XXIst century there will be no ordinary people. There will be six billion exceptional, outstanding, talented people living on Earth’.

Now, this is utopia. We probably are all exceptional, potential-wise. But the fates, or the choices, or the mental disorders are not on the side of the humankind tortured by bigotry, xenophobic hatred and narrow-mindedness. We should probably engage in artificial breeding of metrospirituals, with their cosmopolitan approach to life and general bonhomie which comes naturally to an educated mind.

This is not a law, however. I know some people who could give Diderot a run for his money, and they’re as intolerant and bigot as your ordinary bourgeois. And it’s the other way round. There are simple minds, Apollonian souls that charm you with their openness and common sense, and it doesn’t occur to you in the slightest that such persons are not so well-read and hence are not good company for the pundit that you are.

Now, the ability to tell Conrad from comrade is not a defining criterion of a metrospiritual. I don’t believe in criteria except as in the world of science. How can you quantify emotion and creativity? As emotionally complex beings, we do not fall under strict rules. There’s always one exception or other.

But there’s one general truth: metrospirituals do not have boundaries in their thinking. Why not call them just spirituals, then? Because it would again have more of a religious nuance, and the modern Renaissance people are not limited by that, although they definitely can recite you the advantages of Dao, make some fine allusions to the New Testament, and even have the guts to follow some of Confucius’s instructions for a noble man (I mean the Hagakure bushi-do. Well, you got me).

Besides, the “metro” prefix just makes it sound cooler.

I think I already mentioned the distinction from nerd, except that they know a lot. But, as I never tire of repeating, knowledge and data storage are two different things. Besides, metrospirituals are devilishly charming, and have natural appeal, which doesn’t prevent them from being sophisticated all right.

Well, Mark Simpson did incorporate the intellectual component into his definition, but it was pretty much denatured. And it seems like a logical consequence to me. When a notion becomes a mainstream trend, it is usually modified in accordance with the general taste. And we chose the looks, naturally. We humans are rather intolerant to both outward and inward perfection. We like to know that others are human, too.

And it’s always been like that, from Christ to Giordano Bruno and from Archimedes to Richard Sorge. The exceptional out-of-this-world people born ahead of their time have always been torn apart by the crowd. But how do you define crowd? Those of us who were gifted with a bit more IQ points than the average MENSA score are always forgetting that they are the crowd, too.

We all like to think we’re exceptional. Well, maybe not all (and such inadvertent modesty is appealing, too). And it comforts me to believe it’s true. But why didn’t we choose the intellectual component out of the two faces of metrosexuality? Why is it reduced to designer sweaters and capoeira classes for rich boys?

Maybe it’s because our quest for body care leaves no room for other occupations? That’s too primitive a conclusion. Hedonism is more plausible, but it’s boring.

It’s all down to choice again, and I guess I’ve got the pants bored off you with endless discussions of choice. But I’m afraid it’s much deeper and more serious than that. Metrosexuals do read and visit art galleries, but only in order to be able to discuss it later with the right people. And it’s sad to see a good purpose vulgarized like that. But let’em go on. Anything for improving the general level of education.

Anyway, these are just musings of a daughter of Chaos tired of her own flippancy. Judging the others is very easy. Doing something all by yourself is not. Plus, there are much worse sins than memorizing reviews for further showing off at book launches.

Yet value is another gray area in a non-quantifiable world, and we didn’t master ethical engineering yet. Hope we never will. Or it will definitely be a the-Matrix-has-you situation. 

Lips/ November. "Morning Stars" Album. By Duczewska and Schnapps.

Today, all morning
I've been thinking of you
Thoughts lost in the space
Between us and the truth

The truth is
Just an exchange of glances
Just a spark when hands touch
Just lips chapped with kissing

For it's November
Sweet November
And I am here,
And so are you.

My phone service is down
My lips - sleek with NY Colors gloss
And I'm at a loss
For I don't know if you think of me now

For it's November
Bitter November
And I am right here,
But where are you?

Today, all afternoon
I've been thinking of you
Thoughts found in the space
Between us and our youth

Our youth is
Breakfast at De Beers
Dinners at home or the park
Lovemaking in total dark

Lips swollen with thirst
For each other
Eyes dry with independence
Hearts tattooed with "FOREVER"

For it's November
Always November
And I will always be here
Will you be there, too?

So remember me fondly
As I bite my lips with sorrow
For I will not talk to you tomorrow
Will you talk to me?

This lovely November,
This eternal November....

Ill. "Morning Stars" Album. By Duczewska and Schnapps.

She is mortally ill with affection
He is worshiped by crowds and cameras
She's a yogi and hates One Direction,
He adores her and drives a Cayenne

Tu es la mienne, he says, tu es la mienne

As he is looking into other faces
She is quiet and tearless
As he tears off her lingerie laces
She's irate but quiet and fearless

Chorus
Cry me a river, he says
Go fuck yourself, she replies
Love cannot feed on tears
Love cannot feed on lies

She is mortally ill with desire
He delivers, but heartlessly tender
Are his hands, and she asks, please, fire!
But he never to her will surrender

Tu es la mienne, he says, tu es la mienne

And he takes her in his Cayenne
She's ashamed, but tearless still
Cry me a river, he pleads
I will, she says softly, I will

Je suis la tienne, she says, je suis la tienne

Don't let go, he says, don't let go
I will not, she says, never let you go
As they drink in each other's bodies
On the back seat of his Cayenne.

Chorus.

Praise to the Stranger. "Morning Stars" Album. By Duczewska and Shnapps.

I was looking for you
In many a stranger's face
Oh Lord, it did not do
I fell out of grace

Chorus 1

I fell out of love
Out of bliss and glory
Adventurous, painful story -
My life before I had met you
In yet another stranger's face.

I am looking for you
In every friend's face
For now, it will do
To blind you with my grace

Chorus 2

To conquer you with my love
To take you with my bliss and glory
Adventurous, brilliant story -
My life now that I see you
In my own Stranger's face.

I will be looking for you
In every cloud shape
Whenever you are away
But please, Stranger, stay....

Chorus 3

Surrender to my love
Let yourself be taken by bliss and glory
Make your own brilliant story
I just want you to be well
As I am your own Stranger's face.

Children of Chernobyl. "Morning Stars" Album. By Duczewska and Schnapps.

Our eyes are violet
Black, blue like indigo
Our lips are carmine
Our chests on fire

Chorus 1

We are the C Children
The Chernobyl Children
Fire cannot kill us
Loss of love can.

Our hearts are violet
Black, blue like indigo
Our words are carmine
Our lives on fire

Chorus 2

We are the cancer children
The Chernobyl Children
Poison cannot kill us
Loss of trust can.

Our souls are violet
Like Targaryen eyes
Indigo like madness
Black like disturbia

Chorus 1

We are the fire
The stars are our kindling
The atom - our fate
The future - our home.

Chorus 2