I'll Take Mine Black, Thank You!

 YOU KNOW YOU'VE ARRIVED WHEN...

I self published my first novel in 2013. I had a book launch in Vancouver, BC, Canada, in front family, friends and a couple of walk-in strangers. Aaaah, what a blissfully terrifying and invigorating day. What brought me the biggest joy, in what I knew was the beginning of a lengthy journey, was that once the launch dust settled, I'd be on to the next book.

You see, I'd been chest-deep in the pursuit of a music career. While there, I met hundreds of talented musicians that practiced, tweaked and honed their craft until brilliant, in some cases. But...they never left the practice room. Continually sharpening the sword but never wielding it.

Such a shame.

When I melded into and molded onto the world of scribes, I met some amazing people, and I love 'em all. I've also met the sword sharpener equivalent from the music world. This is the author who writes and rewrites the manuscript over and over and never shares it with world. "No eyeballs shall witness this manuscript, thank you very much," sadly, is her mantra. "It's not ready yet. It's not good enough," she goes on. I have a favorite line from a movie starring Clive Owen, called The Croupier. 

"Hang on tightly, let go loosely." 

The line has sounded in my ear many times since the days of laying drum tracks in the recording studio, to today at the laptop when topping off a final draft. Book done—get it out to the masses. Even if the mass is but one. (Just go with me on that one, will yuz?)

I took a lot of criticism on that first book. I was not a "trained" writer when I wrote the book. The last time I'd had any guidance turning words into story was English 12 circa 1984. CRESCENDO was that book—one hundred thousand words. Yeah, no shit people criticized. My detractors were oh-so-brave. But, I was ready for it. Juxtaposed to this, I received some praise for a "job well done...considering." This, brought elation. I'd blasted from my starting blocks and was barreling down the track. The road ahead was long and promised to be hilly and serpentine. My wife and I had discussed this prior, so I was armed. 

 I'm working on books eleven and twelve as I write this blog post. As such, I burst with joy to announce:

I...HAVE...ARRIVED...  

Arrival Trophy!

Now...what in the blue blazes does that mean, and how dare I proclaim such a thing? As I said, I'm a dozen books deep and I am the happiest I have ever been as a writer. I do not care—to the point of stress—about book sales. I would deeply struggle to care less about Amazon rankings. I do not care about, and I no longer ask for book reviews. You lovelies can rest easy now...and a huge 'thank you' to all who've reviewed my books up until now. 

I love each and every one of my books. I remember exactly how each story was sung into my psyche by the muse, and I'm eternally grateful. I've enjoyed a cash scholarship award, a Shamus Award nomination and great reviews from Kirkus—all very cool. But the real reward comes from the doing, the crafting, the constructing and finally, the completion. Completion of the work with the promise (God willing) of more to come. I write the stories I want to write without thought to the book seller's categorization. That may change, but for now I'm free. And THAT is how I know I've arrived. That is arrival to ME, the funk rock drummer turned author. Maybe "turned" isn't the right word because I still kick up the drum dust almost daily. A drummer whose "added on," perhaps. 

Clarification being of heavy import, let me be clear. This brother welcomes book sales, and awards can make the lip curl at the corner, but the real deal is the freedom from stress, and pressure. There is no angst whatsoever in my writing life. The story comes first because SHE is my companion! Art simply don't art if one is blocked, hamstrung, stunted, knackered, hindered or fu%#ed, Sugarplum.

Am I patting myself on the back with this arrival holler? You're damn right I am, and I make no apologies. As for book launches, if I do any more it will be because I love the social gathering. Seeing you Cats with countenances ranging from knitted brows to smiling laughter as I read aloud puts fuel in my tank and ads horsepower to the Big Block Engine of my soul. Vroom fricken Vroom! Vroom! But a launch with the sole purpose of selling books...uh, nope. Not this guy. That ain't my bag, baby! 

I come back to that freedom word. I reached this point back when I played drums. I played for the love of the art and that was it. Call it a day. I write because I love writing, story, characters, plots and the points therein and thereof, world building, setting, mood, voice, rhythm, prose and all that jazz! And...all of the jazz I'm yet to glean—yet to write.

To all of you artists and creatives: this thing we do has challenges. And that's a good thing. That is why it's important to keep the sword sharp. Find a way to keep the passion fresh. When she dwindles, be like the buddhists and say, "this is the down part. The upshift will come again." Check your perspective. Evaluate in a sober way, what success is to you and celebrate it. Celebrate that you've shown up to the laptop to pound out the story. I say again, I have arrived, baby, and you can too...if you haven't already.