Life is good. You know what it feels like to have a project that always gets put to the bottom of the “to do” list? It could be cleaning the garage or detailing the car, or… getting “the book” out of your head and on to your laptop, or even better yet, between some covers that you can open and turn the pages and read—a real book, with your thoughts, ideas and your own blood sweat and tears. I now know how that feels. I have a book: “Waiting at Red Lights.” Me, an author? Yes!!!!!
Although people have told me that I should write about my experiences doing the job I love, being a journalist, I chose to write about life’s random thoughts. Even though I’ve interviewed presidents, covered major news stories and interviewed some of the most important people in the country, I chose to write a book about life’s random thoughts. I’ve always collected them: things that just pop into your mind and then leave just as quickly. I started calling them “mini muses.”
How hard do some people have to try to look “natural?”
I collected and collected, and finally at the urging of my wife and the rest of the family, who said, “put those damn things in a book and stop torturing us with them,” I finally decided to publish. Oh, that was about ten years ago. I continued to collect them.
When somebody says ‘I have a short story to tell you,’ is it ever?
About six months ago, through my media company I met Eric Johnson of ALIVE Media. I had talked with a couple of people at one of those “big” publishing houses, and they had told me to send a manuscript and they would send me the finished product. I didn’t like that very much. These excerpts, for better or worse, are my thoughts.
What does “I’m fine” really mean?
They are my babies—they are part of me. I wanted them the way I wanted them. ALIVE has something that, to my way of thinking, is a cross between self-publishing and giving up ownership of your work. I don’t even remember what he calls it, but I was able to keep ownership and have him have a stake in making sure we weren’t putting out a piece of junk, just because “Eddie” wanted to do it.”
What is the strongest emotional motivator, Love, Hate, or Fear?
So we set out. What to do for the title? None of my friends or family could figure out what a Mini Muse was. Bye “MM.” We then got very clever and thought, aha, “#1 Bestseller.” After all how can there be so many #1’s at the same time? And heck, it had the hashtag already built in. Problem: Do you know how many items come up when you search it? So, I went back to reading the manuscript and it hit me.
Is it possible things aren’t really where you left them?
Of course, what thoughts come into your mind while “Waiting At Red Lights?” That’s where a majority of these originated. There it is! It works. It themes what the book is about.
It’s the end of January, what’s the statute of limitations on taking down Christmas lights?
Then there is the publishing process. I had just wanted to write and have it pop to fruition. If you want control, you have to want to work. We had several sets of eyes on the manuscript but I must have read it 150 times and every time found something that needed to be changed. It’s arduous. Then you have to decide whether you want to have it for a keepsake, something to sit on your desk, or whether you want to try and sell it and have it sold. It has become a part of you.
Are dogs and cats better at figuring out first impressions?
I think I’m better at the writing part than the promotion, but that is coming along. It’s up on Amazon and Barnes and Noble and several local booksellers have agreed to take it. I have some book signings lined up. But you know what? I can hold my project—my dream—and I can open the pages. I can have people come up to me and tell me they enjoy it. I can read the first review, “You can tell he has a lot of deep questions that can keep you pinned to your toilet long after you’ve finished your business”. Oh well.
I can’t tell you how glad I am that I published. Unless there is some fluke of nature and all of us are vaporized into the planet of “ED,” it’s not going to make me millions, but I have been able to ask the question: “Why do they call it ‘happy hour’ when it’s between 5 and 7?”
Life is good. I’m an author. And you know what? I don’t get as frustrated anymore “Waiting at Red Lights”. (Okaaaaaaay, most of the time.)
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