Still typing my life away...

Another year gone by and still a no-sale on my last two novels. I can't figure it out. On one hand, I'm told they're 'terrific' and 'gripping,' yet the publishers are still hesitant. I know it's because I haven't published a novel previously, but jeez, a writer's got to start somewhere. "Golden Hour" isn't totally out of the picture yet, but after all these months, I'm losing hope on that one, too.

How the hell do I sell my 'First Novel?' The more time goes by, the more Xlibris and Lulu.com are looking like viable options.

One major problem might be that in the last five to ten years, the Internet and POD publishers have seriously hurt the publishing industry on many levels. Your typical brick-and-mortar publishing house is afraid to take on a new author because of the monetary risk involved. Why? Because marketing studies have shown that most average people are not reading books as much as they used to. They're surfing the net instead. This is probably true - I know I spend more time browsing online than I do reading a novel (or writing one, for that matter). Most publishing houses maintain a 'stable' of well-known, proven and prolific mid-list writers that they rely on to bring in steady revenue. It's very hard for them to go all out and bankroll a new book from an unknown author. It stinks, but that's the way it is. Unless something miraculous happens (like we have a massive solar flare that takes out the Internet), this particular goal is going to remain tough on me. I quit submitting to publishers directly over two years ago and went the 'agent' route. That doesn't seem to be working, either. Oh, they liked what they read in my MSS, but for some reason they can't place it with a publisher. Publishers are looking for the next Stephen King or J.K. Rowling, but how will they know if they've got one unless they take a chance on a new writer? Rowling was a strange case, anyway. Her first book was rejected over fifty times before Scholastic finally took it on - and it paid off for them in spades. (I bet the other forty-nine publishers feel pretty stupid right now over that one). All I need is a damn foot in the door. Heck, just let me get a toe in there.

Anyhow, in other news, my daughter is coming home from college to visit us for the holidays and guess what she's bringing with her? The Boyfriend. He sounds like an okay kid, don't get me wrong. It's just going to be weird, that's all. You have to remember that this is my daughter, the one whom I changed diapers for and taught her how to ride a bike. (Then I taught her how to drive a car, but that disaster is another story for another time). It's just hard for me to picture her all grown up, that's all. I have the utmost respect for her for continuing her education and making something of herself. My greatest hope for her is that she will one day be everything I wasn't able to be - a successful, competent adult.

One thing that's been bothering me, other than breaking the bank for Christmas, is the fact that Mom's health is steadily sliding downhill. She's been like a rock, always there for me, and now I get the feeling that soon she won't be. That's hard to face. Dad's dying back in '92 was hard enough. I stayed shit-faced for 3 months solid because I simply couldn't deal with the grief head-on. Even though Mom and I have had our 'moments' in the past where we didn't get along so well, her passing will devastate me.

The reason I'm pushing so hard to publish a novel is for her sake. To prove to her that I could actually do it. She has always been my worst critic, and would tell me point-blank to my face if my writing was crap. She's never pulled any punches with me over the years. If what I wrote or created actully sucked, she told me so. I don't know why it's so important to me to impress her, but it is. Maybe it's because she has an I.Q. of 140-something and I don't. Maybe because I was such a screw-up and a total loser all of my life and she wasn't. She was more impressed when my cousin Rachel got her Master's in Journalism and went to work at the Wall Street Journal. Me, I ended up at a mid-grade daily paper making a decent salary, and again it just wasn't 'good enough.' Do you have any idea how much I'd LOVE to waive a $900,000 book advance in everyone's faces? It would be like, "See, I wasn't such a total shit-head after all." It's like saying, "See, I can do this too."

So, maybe my reasons for wanting to publish a novel aren't so noble. Essentially, I want to do this to prove not only to Mom and the rest of the world that I can write, but to myself as well. In a memorable scene from the movie 'City Slickers,' Jack Palance's character is shown holding up an index finger, basically telling Billy Crystal's character that to find true happiness you need to find that 'one' thing you do well - and enjoy doing it. I've tried all sorts of things - graphics and photography, etc. Writing is what I keep coming back to. It's my 'one' thing.

What makes a writer a writer? They write. That's all. Even if I never get published, I'll still keep at it. God knows I've carpet-bombed every writer's forum I can find with my stories and input, so sooner or later my own brand of viral marketing might pay off.

Until later,

Jillian