Sunday, January 12, 2014

My First Brush with Press

Already framed and hanging in my office.
One evening last September, for about an hour, I discussed every nook and cranny of my..."writing career" (as it was at the time) with an absolute stranger.

Darla Klinko, of Vestal Town Crier, called me up and conducted, over the phone, what was my first ever author interview. I knew going in that I would have to be open about many things regarding the craft - as it relates to myself - that I normally don't speak much about. Most notably the failures. Because if you're a writer you have a lot of them. I have boxes full of them in my closet, but more on that in a bit.

Another topic I've been hush-hush about that I knew I needed to be generous with: my soon-to-be published novel - AKA The One That Made It (AKA Woo-hoo!)!

I considered this phone interview good practice for the many interviews and speeches I hope to be giving in the near future. At the very least I would know what it felt like to field questions out of the blue.

Gratefully, Ms. Klinko went easy on me.

As it turned out, this introvert (me) turned out to be quite chatty. Even when it came to my failures.

For reasons I'm sure many of you understand, talking about the things you haven't been successful with isn't a preferred topic. For writers, no matter what we've written - be it short stories, novels, poems, etc. - we (at the time of writing them, and for a good period of time afterwards) have felt a connection to that work comparable to the greatest loves of our lives. And, at some point, we either had to let go of some of those stories, or witness their rejection (either at the hands of test/beta readers, or editors). It's then that find ourselves with no other choice but to move on to the next story. Maybe in the future we'll get an idea and circle back, but often times, no. We have to give up and try something else. Never an easy thing.

When Ms. Klinko asked about the previous novels I'd written, I mentioned each one with the fondness of an old happy but fuzzy memory, despite the number of issues (lack of confidence, anxiety, etc.) these "lost" stories caused me at the time of their creation. Point was, all those "failures" helped make me better. Helped get me to this point.

It hadn't dawned on me just how much work I'd piled up that never amounted to more than filling individual white printer paper boxes stuffed away on shelves in my closet, not until I spoke of them. Fortunately many of the details I gave in my interview with Ms. Klinko regarding all those stacks of unpublished work didn't make the final article (how boring would that have been?). As the article simply states, I have written seven novels. The fifth one, Seeing, will be my first published. The rest...maybe someday I'll return to and spruce them up. One in particular I know I will. A few though have very little chance of seeing the light of day and I more or less keep them around for personal reasons.

But that's how it goes, isn't it? All those "failures" are considered part of paying the dues, right? Sometimes I look back and wonder if I ever had the ability go back in time and tell myself that I would have to write four full-length novels before the fifth one would be dubbed The One, would the past me still go through with it all? Still go through all the struggles and frustrations and rejections and time spent locked away in a room typing till the words got blurry on the screen, worrying if I'll ever "make it??"

I'd like to think so. Because we all start somewhere.

Truth be told - and I mentioned this to Ms. Klinko (a little nugget of info that also didn't make the article) - after I'd written Seeing, I always saw it as my first book. Even after writing two complete novels following, it just didn't sit right that any other of my manuscripts could be my first novel.

Seeing is what I consider to be the "least strange" of all my work, and in that, the most straightforward as well. Where I love writing about the supernatural (chalk that up to growing up on reruns of The Twilight Zone - created by Rod Serling who also grew up in Binghamton), such a... presence, shall we say, is kept mostly to the peripheral for this first story - left to the imagination of the reader. Beyond that, I won't say another word.

And that's been tough as well. I want to talk about my book but not spoil anything. At one point in my interview I opened up too much and let a huge spoiler slip. Thankfully that slip wasn't printed (phew!).

As for what was printed regarding Seeing, I really like the description of the novel Ms. Klinko quoted me with:

The story is about a 13-year-old named Jake who has had a rough year. His father abandoned the family, so he's dealing with loss. Then his grandfather moves in and fills the male role in the family, which brings hope. Then Jake hears his grandfather tell an amazing story and he wonders if it's true. So he starts researching it.

To be honest, I used the words she printed. I also elaborated and threw it all up in chunks (how's that for a visual?). She just cleaned up my description and made it cohesive.

But in all seriousness, what makes this a great summary is that it mentions hope.

Because that's what the book is about. Hope.

Hope - much like my previous failures - has led me to this point, where I've gone from writer to author, about to see my first novel published this spring by the wonderful people at Winter Goose Publishing.

(That's Winter Goose Publishing, not Winter Goose Press as it was mentioned in the article. Sigh. I guess this goes to prove some things in print are beyond even a writer's control...the ultimate irony I suppose.)

And hope is what will keep me going from here.

You can find the entire article from Vestal Town Crier for download in .pdf format on the News page of my site.

Till next time!