I was copied on an e-mail sent to our producer from a high-powered literary agent based in Los Angeles. He said, due to the producer's recommendation, he would be glad to look at my work and see how his company can assist me in this new career.
This is what I've really been looking for all these years. If there's one thing to know going into this arena...it's a tough biz.
I started writing more than fifteen years ago. It started out with poetry as I needed an outlet for my emotions during trying times. About five years ago I began a search for a literary agent. I thought I got close one time. The guy was talking about how he could make me Longfellow, Wadsworth and Shelley all wrapped up into one. It was sounding really good until he dropped the other shoe. All I had to do was give him twenty-five thousand dollars. Click. Apart from that incident, I couldn't get anyone in that field to talk to me...much less look at my work.
Trying to get published and/or get an agent to help you get published is one of this world's great lessons in patience. It is a very competitive market and there are so many actual and would-be authors out there hawking their wares that you wonder if anyone will ever see you among the masses that are clamoring for attention. I could wallpaper my house with rejection slips and at times it got very discouraging.
What helped me was that I love to write. It is a passion that has grown with time and I am never more at peace than when I am banging out a new story. I get emotionally attached to some of the characters (I know...I need therapy) I create and at times I can't bring myself to kill them off or just leave them dangling at the end of the book. An example is Sam Harridan, the main character in The Grove of Akkadia. It wasn't until I was more than halfway through the book that I decided I would keep Sam active in a sequel. That's how much I like him. On the flip side, the unmitigated wickedness of Enidor Fox in Evil Most Holy just couldn't be contained in one book...so I'm mulling a sequel to that one. You have to love what you do if you ever expect to get better at it. And, that's what has happened to me. If you compare my first novel, Deathjester, with my latest release, Hell's Gunman, you wouldn't know it was written by the same author.
When everyone who read The Keeper's Dare, (who got back to me), said that it would make a great movie, I decided to write a screenplay. I've been shopping it now for almost three years. I got a nibble of interest while in London with some folks in the UK Film Industry, but it soon petered out. Then, another little break and the script was in Hollywood being read by a producer and again, it fizzled and died. Now, I have two exclusive contracts coming my way with interests in it and The Grove of Akkadia. Will they make feature films of these? Who knows? The probability factor says no...it only happens to the other guy. The possibility factor is wide open and says yes...it can happen to anybody. And now, as I said at the beginning of the blog, a literary agent is willing to look at my work and consider taking me on as a client. Will he? Again, who knows? But there is one rule that is true across every spectrum of employment, profession or career. It's not what you know...but who you know. There have been so many 'chance' happenings since last January that coincidence doesn't quite cut it when you're looking at how this has all occurred.
Most of the time it takes about six months and up to a year for me to write a novel. Hell's Gunman was written in two months. When my brother read it, he urged me to not put it up as a self published work, but to send it to a publisher. I had been down this road soooo many times and only got one-sentence rejection slips back in the mail over and over and over again. Yet, I took his advice and in three months I had a contract. So, not only do you have to love writing, you have to be persistent and never give up. There will be family members that will shake their head at your effort and wonder why you try. There will be friends that will smile and tell you 'That's good' that you're writing, but their mannerisms tell you what they are really thinking, and that's 'Whatever'. There will be acquaintances that couldn't care less that you write in your spare time and won't want to listen about your latest book idea. Sometimes...you feel all alone.
That's when I'm at my best. In my opinion. I seem to get more determined when I'm the last defender of the Alamo (a symbol of my work). Finishing The Last Medal, I put it in my wife's hands and asked her to read it. The story is a fictional crime/detective yarn set in Houston. About halfway through, she approached me and warned that I better not have killed off a character named Hinson. I said, "Baby, the book's already been written. If he's dead, he's dead." I knew then the story had grabbed her, and she doesn't like that kind of book. When finished, she told me it was my best work yet and while reading it she kept thinking, "Hey, my husband can write.". I had a fan. It only took twelve years.
Right now, I'm almost at the top of this roller coaster. My desire is to stay there once I reach it, and my prayer is that I don't go back into the dip of writer's despair. But if I do see all this crash and burn and hit with a loud thud...I won't give up. I won't stop the pursuit...as long as there is breath in my body. It's been a long ride. Maybe it is my time. We'll see.
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