The One That I Want

A few years ago I wrote a book.

The main question I got asked about the writing process was "how many pages is it?"  A question I always found extremely odd.  I imagine it's like actors getting asked "how DO you memorize ALL of those LINES?"  It always caught me off guard ... and made me grossly aware of my page count (378).

I knew getting a book published would be difficult, so I decided to outsmart the system.  I queried a publisher before I even finished the book.  I figured I'd rack up the rejection letters for a year or two while I wrote and then at about the same time the book was finished, I was sure a publisher or agent would come calling.  SSG DIGS on efficiency and the false impression that she can control the future.

A couple of months later, as I swung by my mailbox on my way home from work, I got a letter from a publisher in New York.   "My first REJECTION LETTER!  I'm a REAL writer!"  I almost yelled to the random lady walking down the street.

I ripped the letter out of the envelope, hands shaking and teary eyed, almost passing out when it said:

"Your story idea sounds interesting, please send the completed manuscript."

Gulp.

Um, WHAT completed manuscript?  By manuscript they TOTALLY meant sending a few spiral bound, handwritten, coffee stained notebooks their way, right?  

Wrong.

For the next 3 weeks, I got up and wrote for a couple hours before work, came home and wrote until about midnight and then shipped my manuscript off to an editorial assistant somewhere in Manhattan.  And then?

I promptly freaked the fuck out.

We went back and forth a couple of times over about a year, but ultimately they decided not to pick the book up.  Their words: "Your work has merit, but the romantic relationship needs to be more prominent."

My words:  "Even my FICTIONAL relationships SUCK ASS."

Now, YES.  I know it was a HUGE thing to have my first time up at the plate be a double.  Okay, maybe a single ... even if it did mean never reaching home (gah I miss baseball, I'm using metaphors 3 MONTHS before opening day).  But it also screwed me up for a while.

I had a sense of confidence (that I had NO business having) about approaching people in the publishing business.   After a few "we're not interested" e-mails and letters, my short lived confidence jumped off a bridge and I put the book away.  It has been in a drawer ever since.

We're fortunate enough to have an author as a family friend.  She has volunteered to give me advice but that means showing my book to her.  Which really is like asking me to strip naked in front of all of you.   In fact, I'd rather do that.  

How do I work this video thingy?  

Can I get some music?!

Anyhoo ... the whole point of this is that I'm saying YES to writing again.  It is what I not only want to do, but what I can't NOT do.

Excuse me while I go freak the fuck out ... AGAIN.

I started this blog last year for two reasons.  I had been writing every day for years before I sent off that query letter.  Every day for a couple of hours before I'd trot off to work, I'd write with no expectations, just for the sheer pleasure of it.  I wanted to get back to writing for fun.  I also needed to remember to pay attention to my daily life.  2006 and 2007 gave the finger to SSG in a BIG way.  I wanted to remind myself that there still was a ton of fun to be had in this crazy world ... even during the painful, sucky periods.

I'd say 2008 was a success on both accounts ... with considerably less suckage than its predecessors. 

So!  If anyone is still reading ... the big news is this:

I'm picking up the pen again.  I am scared shitless but also SO excited to say yes to a life that I have wanted since I was 5 years old and writing a script to go along to the Grease soundtrack I listened to in my parents garage.

I got chills.  They're multiplyin'.  

And wait for it ...

It's ELECTRIFYING.

What are YOU saying yes to this year?