I’d been freelancing for 3 years; selling a bit here, rejected a lot there. Most of you know the drill. Most of my work fell under the banner of nonfiction, usually humorous essays. Pretty funny stuff too. Cracked me up. I couldn’t figure out why a near-constant stream of tear-stained checks (tears of laughter, of course) weren’t wending their way to my mail box.

Then one day, as I was perusing a writing-related newsletter, the reason struck with crystalline clarity. It was a true “Aha!” moment; like when Archimedes had to come up with a quick theory to explain to his wife why he sloshed water from the tub all over the bathroom floor.

All theories need to be put to the test of course. I wasn’t going to rush to judgement with mine, despite that ringing “feel” of truth to it. I looked at back issues of other newsletters.

Check.

I decided to go to the magazine store and spend some time eyeballing the racks.

Ah, the joy of confirmation!

The reason I was struggling to make a living was plain as day now.

My titles were all wrong. None, the pitifully few purchased, or the many rejected, had the words “Top 10" or “10 Best” in the titles.

I felt like all those other physicists who slapped their foreheads and said “Duh!” when Einstein told them what “e” equaled. It was right there all the time. Editors, readers, publishers, ALL loved the number 10 screaming at them from the top of the page.

I cackled as I mentally calculated the checks that would soon be arriving. I hadn’t been this excited since I saw that ad on the back of my comic books in the 60s touting those X-ray glasses.

But I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck yesterday. I also recalled my visit to the Principal’s office when he caught me pressing my X-ray-glassed eyes against the girls’ change room door. I calmed myself and re-examined the magazine racks more carefully. Soon I was nodding AND cackling while calculating. I was vaguely aware of the store manager assuring a customer that I was a regular there and probably harmless. No matter, my career was made now. Thank God I hadn’t rushed home prematurely.

Along with the screaming “10"s, a few other words predominated. “Easy” and “Surefire” seemed to lead the pack, with “Stress-Free” coming on strong. I could hardly wait to run home and put my theory to the test.

I’ll admit to a moment of self-doubt when it occurred to me that the editor/reader might actually expect there to BE a Top 10 something in the body of the article too. But experience has taught me that self-doubt, like gas, will pass if you just wait a while.

One tiny, troubling thought clung stubbornly to my psyche though. It was remotely possible that I couldn’t use the same title for absolutely every future article. After 15 or 20 times, editors might wise up. Then, like velcro, another troublesome thought affixed itself. When this article hits print, every writer reading it will learn my hard-won secret and slap “Top 10" on each and every one of his/her offerings.

Then, before you know it, every single magazine rack everywhere will be full of cover pages that scream “Top 10 Easy Surefire-whatever”...........just like.....they do.....now.

This article first appeared in The Write Markets Report, a publication of Writers Weekly.