Fearlessly Honest

There is a pretty common myth out there about being creative and being messed up, in that it seems that we create better art if we are wrecked.   In a way, the myth isn’t a myth at all.  We do seem to create good stuff when we are messed up, when we are flayed open and ruined, when the world is a weight and there’s nothing to do but crawl into a bottle, to hide behind chemical curtains until things don’t hurt anymore.  We do create good stuff when were messed up.  You can see it in the wreckage that...

Planting Ideas…

So the characters in my book get up to some pretty harmful shit, self harm and vandalism and worse.  The other night, I had a chilling thought: what if I give someone ideas?  What if there’s a kid out there that just needs the seed, the impulse, the implicit permission and then takes the ideas from the page and applies them to the real world? There’s evidence for this idea already.  About ten years ago I was invited to a fight club.  A real one.  Literally a group of dudes that met up in a basement, put on some thrash...

Knock, Knock

I used to feel directionless. For most of my life I have felt like this, that there was something out there, some bigger destiny, some way for me to prove my worth to the world.  I would take stock of my god-given talents and look at other, more successful people in the fields that I am interested in, and ask myself, why not me? I genuinely had never understood why not me until recently.  Until I had the Realization.  I capitalize Realization on purpose, because it was a singular thought that arrived in my head and though it is terribly...

It ain’t over yet.

I’m not done. This is what I have been fighting:  the feeling that I’m done.  I mean, I wrote the damn thing, I edited it, I gave it to readers for feedback, I changed, re-wrote, and polished it, I let it sit for a couple of weeks and then re-read and re-edited it.  I’m done right?  This is the part where I can relax and start something new, right? Actually not really.  I’ve got to send query letters to agents.  If I want to get a fair shot at finding a agent that will represent me, I have to research...

Rejected!

I got rejected in eight hours. The first agency I sent a query to preferred electronic communication.  I sent off a query letter with a sample of the manuscript as per spec, and by the morning already knew that they did not want to represent the book.  I have mixed feelings about this. First, I know its not personal.  Getting a form letter from a robot first thing in the morning, however encouragingly it may have been written, is decidedly impersonal.  They didn’t say that they didn’t like me.  They didn’t even say that they didn’t like my book; they...