You have a complex mind and an achingly beautiful soul—but that’ll all be wasted if you’re not getting paid. I’ve learned to make four-plus figures a month by being deep in a marketable way, and now you can, too.

The algorithm favors images of faces, so emphasize your pensive pout from an angle that screams, “I’m gloomy, but also gorgeous. Sponsor me, lip-gloss brands, selfie ring lights, and Big Pharma antidepressants! I’ve got range.”

If you post enough pictures of yourself drinking DeTox, the unofficial hot beverage of influential people, Yogi Tea will read the leaves and finance you. Gandhi exclusively drank tea for part of his life, and look how many followers he had.

Keep your eyes slightly downcast in photos, as if whatever’s behind those lids has a story to tell. No one has to know that it’s a short story—a novella, really, about how you can’t finish your novel. This pose might help you land a publisher who can immortalize your introspective expression on book jackets worldwide.

Post vague quotes about self-realization that are universal but ultimately mean nothing. For instance, “Follow your own light,” with a picture of you holding an unlit match. Mention cutting toxic people out of your life (but don’t reveal that the people in question are your friends who, at lunch, discouraged you from posting that).

Carry around thick, intimidating novels. Quote Victor Hugo and insist that the Disney version of “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” really “got the ending wrong.” Everyone will be impressed that you read nearly a thousand pages about French Gothic architecture. An airline will fly you out to Paris to lead an “H.B. of N.D. Tour.” Quasi-modo; fully sponsored.

Change your profile photo to a picture of you as a child. It will remind people that you were once youthful, fragile, and adorable—and, heck, you still are. This might inspire family-friendly brands to consider you to be their parental spokesperson. Thankfully, having children is not a job requirement, but your inner child will rejoice at all the attention.

Learn two chords on the guitar, and humstrum Radiohead’s “Creep.” No one will believe that you’re a “creep” or a “weirdo,” but they will hand you a million-dollar record contract to support your “perfect body” and “perfect soul.”

Pose near large, endangered animals to remind the world of not only how physically tiny you are but also brave. Caption: “They must be saved.” It’s a call to action that conveys, If this image isn’t hearted immediately, you, too, might go extinct.

Redecorate your kitchen to look like it belongs in a Nancy Meyers movie: white linen everywhere, a wicker basket filled with dried daisies, and so many copper pots. Do not zoom out to show your disappointed roommate waiting to fill up her water bottle. Pottery Barn is standing by to support your soft life.

On social media, make jokes that don’t follow logic or build toward a punch line, but rather rely on jump cuts and endless captions. Invite people to your “bringer” show, and, if no one gets your material, just sigh and say, “It’s satire.”

Be hot. ♦