Greetings and salutations. My name is Marcus Hawke and I am an aspiring author; the other type of A.A. Perhaps it’s fate that my introduction should sound like the beginning of an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, since I know from experience that there is definitely some overlap between the two.
I’ll come strait to the point. While searching and researching how one goes from an aspiring author to a published author, there is one tidbit that continues to surface like a poorly weighted down body in a shallow lake: starting a blog.
Truthfully, I’ve had no desire to start a blog before, as a logophile the very word has never been a favorite of mine — conjuring the image of a kid barfing in the backseat on the ride home from Disneyland. It seems strange to me that such a thing should have anything at all to do with pursuing a publishing career. But hey, as we all know and repeat whenever this kooky world of ours provides its daily examples, these are indeed strange times. (I wonder if we’ll ever need not to say that to make excuses for the present, but more on that later)
So, here I am.
[Tell the crickets they’re on in five]
For the next several months, possibly a year, possibly longer or shorter depending on how things go, I will be documenting the process of publishing a novel in whatever form that happens to take; be it traditional, indie, self-publishing, or somewhere in between. One way or another, this is happening.
Along the way I’ll cover querying, editors, agents, word counts, other writers, other bloggers, scams, websites, Twitter and Instagram (ostensibly another “must have” today) and so forth. Also related topics like the nature of attempting a career in a subjective industry, and writing itself and why the hell we do it in the first place. Believe me, if I wanted to take the easy road, I’d have become an Instagram model, but my ass doesn’t look so good in yoga pants.
Now as an individual, I strive to look at both sides of the coin. “Hope for the best, plan for the worst,” that’s my motto. And while the curve may often bend more toward the latter than the former, at the very least I like to acknowledge both, and will do my gosh-darnedest to approach things accordingly. Having said that…(aha, see! there’s the title) like a gimp with a Cleveland steamer, there’s something I have to get off my chest.
I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M DOING!!!!!!!!!!!!
Whew. That felt good. They say to succeed in anything confidence is key, but sometimes you just have to walk up to the Void, give the nipples a pinch and scream, know what I mean?
This is all new to me. Very much learning as I go here. The occasional bit of advice I happen to glean from someone with direct experience or insight will be duly noted. Otherwise, it is trial and error; AKA the future title of my memoir.
I don’t know if this will help me, or you—the reader—which, after all, is why you’re here right? That is in no way a criticism, quite the opposite in fact because that is my hope. I often feel better knowing that others have shared similar experiences, and if any valuable information or advice can be gleaned in the process, all the better. Still, the fact remains that I don’t know if this will bear any fruit at all. It might be just one colossal mess. But if that’s the case, would you really want to miss it? What’s a crash without a throng of gawkers to warm themselves by the burning refuse? If it be so, let this be the black box.
And if nothing else, it’s cheaper than therapy. Am I right, ladies and gentlemen?
Anyhoo, that’s all for now. More to come soon. Thanks for stopping by and you stay classy, Sodom! (but not you, Gomorrah)
(P.S. I don’t know why I said gosh-darnedest. Won’t happen again.)