Like a lot of people I have always wanted to write a book.
Unlike most people I actually went and did it.
What I want this to be is a chronicle of what happens afterward, when you have a manuscript and you want to see the thing in print. And that is what I want. My goal is to be able to walk in to a bookstore and buy my book, which means traditional publishers. Which means agents. Which means rejections. Which blows.
Because even though I work a professional 9-5 and am a suburban father and husband, even though I drive a ten year old Honda, I remain a punk somewhere in my heart, and the whole ‘hat in hand, please Mr Traditional, would you be kind enough to consider considering to consider my heart and soul for your soulless corporate greed’ still stings quite a bit. If I was going to make music, I would DIY like a punk; I’d press my own vinyl, I’d tour, I’d hit up other like-minded guys and work the grass roots, because even now I still believe that it’s not about the money, it’s about the expression, about the soul of the thing. Agents will want a piece and the publisher will take most of whats left; I will in the end, be the creator of the thing and will get mostly nothing.
But still. I have always, always wanted to be a writer, a real one, that people like to read and pass their paperbacks on to friends and say holy shit man you’ve got to read this. I do it. I pass on my copy of Breakfast of Champions to people. I don’t ever expect it back; I’ll just buy a new one when I want to read it again. That’s what I want. A real physical, book, made of paper and everything, that you can hold and smell and accidentally drop in the toilet when you are reading and trying to brush your teeth at the same time.
So that means traditional. And that means agents and publishers. And that means rejections. Which blows.
So I hope to record here what it is like to try and do this, to get a book published. It’s good, in case you were wondering. I really believe that, heart and soul. It’s called Antiartists, and it’s good.