Kimber here. Ready to show you how to churn out an absolute literary disaster sure to tank like the Titanic. Cuz we’ve plowed through quite a few lately. And since The ‘Ole Curmudgeon and I like to be helpful, we thought we’d offer the ultimate, failsafe blueprint for writing a spectacularly unreadable book that’ll get you a one-way ticket to the Big Kitty Litter Box in the Sky. In a heartbeat.

Pro tip: I’d listen up ‘fize you, bub. So you can save us both some time in the Requesting and Reviewing Departments.

Cuz writing an awful book isn’t just about throwing random capitalization and “meow” on a page. It takes true, unhinged dedication! So here’s your step-by-step guide to crafting a book so unreadable, it’s practically a work of art:

1. Dont “Poof” Reed Anything. Evur.

Those gkaring typose, punkuashun errors and grammur oopses that jumpp off the paje and smackk a revueer in the fase? Trust me, no one will notise.

2. Master the Monotone.

Never, ever use metaphors that make sense. Instead, describe everything in terms of odors and floor surfaces. Your narrator should obsessively track the “smelly metal box with the red circles” (a toaster) for four whole chapters. If a plot point gets too tense, derail it and obsess over a box of jelly-filled donuts left on the counter unattended.

3. Unleash the “Word Vomit” Vocabulary.

Why use one adjective when you can use twenty-six instead? Variation on a theme: Create a main character who sounds like a Shakespearean scholar in need of a nap. Additional variation: Constantly alternate between philosophical musings about the meaning of life and tomorrow’s trash pick-up. Keep the vocabulary aggressively basic, but throw in words like apricate and velleity that no one uses and no one cares about.

4. Toss Logic Out the Window.

If you really want to frustrate your reader/reviewer, toss all biological and logical reality out the window. Replace the laws of physics with a TikTok dance challenge on page 42. Write dialogue like you’re herding quantum particles through a salad bar. Unplug the GPS of the cosmos and start navigating by glitter. Or have your main character tackle a high adrenaline mountain, then break the tension by having him get confused by his own reflection for nine pages.

5. Over-Explain Everything.

Instead of showing your readers what’s going on in your story, tell them about it. And tell them. And tell them. And tell them some more. If that doesn’t work, keep telling until they drift off to Neverland.

Don’t forget to treat your readers like they’re a bunch of preschoolers who can’t figure out theme, motivation, or conflict without beating them over the head with it. For good measure, make sure you also tell them what to think and how to react instead of letting them decide for themselves. So feel free to paint over their imaginations and intelligence with your own brush.

Next, be sure to declare the protagonist’s intentions every three paragraphs. Just in case anyone forgot. Make the tone so deeply mawkish and maudlin it’s cringeworthy.

Does your manuscript hit all of the above? Great! Then send it in. But don’t be surprised if it capsizes our review boat. Or another box of kitty litter. And those author emails griping about a negative review? Want some cheese with that whine?

Are we clear here? Inquiring curmudgeons want to know.