It’s strange to type this, but Rakers is my seventh novel.
Going back, to college, high school and before, there’s always been (as I feel most people would say about their dreams) this outward belief that I’d write a novel “someday”. That belief would be accompanied by a silent, smaller, infinitely more honest voice expressing doubt. Stating that, let’s be real, it wasn’t going to happen.
That voice hasn’t gone away either. Again, I think many people would say similarly that their doubting selves don’t go away no matter the accomplishment. That’s why we keep chasing after what we want – why we see millionaires go for billions, why we see actors continue to chase Oscars even after they’ve earned one, why marathoners keep on running after their 26 miles. It’s that drive to keep on keepin’ on, no matter what you’ve done before.
Now, speaking of seventh novels: Plenty of people have written more, and plenty have written less but in far more difficult circumstances. I’ve had the benefit of a year off from a full-time job that’s given me the opportunity to pursue writing for hours every day with minimal interruption. I’ve had the benefit of a job prior to this that allowed me the funds to get equipment, books, and time to jump into this with both eyes open.
I’ve made plenty of mistakes. I’ll make plenty more. I’ve learned a lot, and in the 500,000+ words of fiction I’ve written this year there have been typos, mismatched metaphors, plot holes, and characters that didn’t come off as well as I’d hoped. But I’ve told a lot of stories. I’ve had a hell of a lot of fun.
I’m not quite sure how I’ve got this far, but I’m quite sure the stories are going to keep going. They’re too much fun to tell, and I have too many banging around inside my head, trying to be the next in line.
This is a wonderful job, and I’m so grateful to so many that I get to do this.
And if you’re wondering if this is for you – give it a try. Spin a story. There’s nothing to lose, and an infinity to gain.