Luke Fischer Saved Me - Part Two

 

When we last left our hero (me), he was despondent and had just about enough of this crap. It felt like it had been at least a decade of close calls. Maybe if I would have got rejected all day long, both for my novels, and my short fiction, it might have been different. But instead, I had scored an agent, had a novel go on submission, and had several agents interesting in my new novel - one to the point of talking about pitching two books. 

I work really hard at my writing. I've taken courses at Gotham Writer's Workshop, and workshops from places like One Story, and read several shelves of craft books. I was asked to be a reader at Carve magazine. I was a finalist in a Glimmer Train competition, and one of my published stories (from Smokelong Quarterly) made a best of the web list from Wigleaf.

But, I really felt like I was pounding my head against a concrete wall trying to get a new agent and a book deal. And I couldn't take it any more. So I decided to quit. I have lots of pursuits, I'll go after something that's not quite so soul crushing.

It was a dark time, and it lasted a while. If you're a writer, you've probably had a time like this. People were not interested in what I wrote, and writing anymore is pointless. And it's no longer fun.

That's when it hit me. Cue the sfx (maybe a sproing, or a kaboom or something.) This was supposed to be fun. What do I really want to write? What would I enjoy writing? What do I love?

 

Some answers: neo-noir type detecitves in 70s movies who are laid back, and who love a good drink of bourbon and a bar fight. Yes, I was thinking Elliot Gould in Altman's Long Goodbye. Or Paul Newman as Harper. Or even George Clooney in Out of sight. Or yes, Jake, forget it, it's Chinatown.

In fiction, John D. MacDonald's Travis McGee, or Joe Lansdale's Hap and Leonard, James Lee Burke's Dave Robicheaux, and James Crumley C.W. Sughrue.

That's what I felt like writing. And agents and publishing be damned.

I'd recently taken a job at a University that meant full time 9-5 for the first time in my life. I lamented to my wife, saying I how am I going to write?

She said, "Get up in the morning. Write before work."

I was not a morning person, so my first response was a general "ugh." 

But I did, every morning at 6:00 AM. I got up, made a coffee and wrote for at least an hour. Rarely more, sometimes. less. 9 months later (including edits and revisions) I had a novel. A brand new novel, which was the quickest that I'd finished a novel, and more importantly, the most fun I'd ever had writing one.

Ahhh, this is what I forgot. Yes, writing is deadly hard work, but it should also be fun. This 70s style, laid back beach bum – so laid back that he never admits that he is a detective – rose out of those morning pages and brought me back from the brink. No, I would not quit. I would continue doing what I love.

A note on the naming of this guy. While writing I had bounced around a lot of names, which no one, including me liked. In a text or email convo with my son, I asked him out of the blue what he would name this guy.

"Luke Fischer."

I can't recall if I asked him why this name, though recently he told me the reason he picked the name - Luke was the manliest friend he knew. There was some other reasons for Fischer, but I'm not going to share that detail, only to say that when I heard it... I knew that was the guy.

I love hearing from readers about Surf City Acid Drop - the first Luke Fischer book. I feel like he's made a connection with those folk, he certainly has for me. Luke's second book - Manistique - will be coming out in early summer of this year. Stay tuned for more posts on that.

And yes, Luke three (no title yet) is also in progress. Why? Because it's fun.

Thanks for reading.