I told my dad, who is the author of a dozen academic books on education and social psychology, that I felt like I was endlessly re-writing a novel partly because all the agents and editors I sent it to passed (or didn’t respond at all).
He said, “Why are you writing a novel of all things? That will get you nowhere. You should try non-fiction. It’s much more likely to meet with success, especially in your field.”
At the time, I was a planner and analyst doing consulting on numerous energy and recycling projects around the country. I was also a freelance writer on the side and a contributing writer to several magazines.
So: “Yes, Dad, non-fiction definitely met with success.” I had a 30-year career. It was interesting enough and, at times, fun. I had made a number of friends amongst a diverse group of colleagues. We were all out on the frontier of technology development and environmental management together.
But I also knew that as a writer nothing I did was challenging enough. I’d authored dozens of reports, manuals, handbooks, and stories about everything from rural alternative energy education programs to the potential of recycled product manufacturing in local and regional economies in the United States.
None of that was the same challenge as writing short stories and novels. For years I managed to get drafts on paper or the screen when I woke up at 4:30 a.m. and couldn’t get back to sleep. There’s all sorts of research out there now about creative thinking just after waking up, especially during pre-dawn hours when no one else is around.
During most of my early writing days I just figured weird notions would always show up for me when I felt like no one else was around to give me shit for thinking so far into outer space.
These days, I tell people I retired from my first career on December 31, 2011, but the truth is I finally got up enough gumption to show my dad he was wrong about what I wanted to write.
My novel, Sound Effect Infinity, is actually dedicated to that dude (even though he’s no longer with us). He taught his children how to sing. He also taught us to think for ourselves.
You can write to howdy@flatbranchpress.com and give us your thoughts. We promise to respond.
Thanks for reading.