Give the Drummer some
It’s been a crazy past couple of days and I just wanted to drop a quick note to everyone who has taken the time to subscribe, read my material and support Coward: A Novel.
If you haven’t checked out the book yet, do yourself a favour. It is 300 well-spaced pages of singular narrative with are by my baby brother and a hilarious doodle form my friend Abby.
I don’t want to hawk my wears and I don’t want to force that point with too much emphasis, that’s not what this little post is about.
What it is about is simply a big, sloppy kiss of ultra-moist gratitude on the lips to all those who have stuck by me and supported this hellish process. I can’t go through every single person because that would take too long and the worst part of a Marvel movie is sitting through the million names of grippers and visual effects artists and waiting for that post-credit scene. I also may not see every single person who has promoted or reposted my work and material, but for every person that does, you are amazing. You could be a vile and evil reptile of a shit-human, but to me you are an angel-baby.
Kyle Chan, I see you, thank you my friend. I meant to shout you out in Coward, since the title can be attributed to his trash talk, but this will have to do until later. I appreciate the support, brother.
In starting from scratch, it’s daunting as a motherfucker to try and figure out how to progress. It’s the same as any business or freelance endeavour. There are sites and recommendations about how to move swiftly with a manufactured cunning elicited by others before. I have ideas of my own and just need time and money, and sadly, the exposure to see them come to fruition. But, I rarely sleep and always think. It’s kind of a problem – the skin beneath my eyes is like dusty-purple cellophane.
I have had some time to start creating again; that is all that I ever wanted. The freedom of mind and body to turn my thoughts in to words and those words in to things that give other people thoughts. It feels like starting from scratch again, but from a higher elevation and not the swampy deadspace that it had been built from previously.
People asked me how does it feel? To have a book out and see the goal I had set mature in to a reality.
It felt weird, man. Feels weird. The first thing I did was get a haircut. The next thing I did was commit to finishing a story that had been irking me and tugging at my pant leg to finish like a weedy little child with an insufferable lack of patience.
I thought that I would get better sleep but my mind still starts ringing before the birds. It didn’t calm me, it made me want to work more and work harder. I thought that I would be able to rest and reset for a couple of days’ post launch, but that hasn’t been the case. I keep thinking of what’s next, next after that, and then after that. I love chess and can’t think of any other way to live. Plus, what laurels and I resting on? Anyone can do what I did, I need to do something that only I can do and do the piss out of it.
I am not overly-concerned about sales as I have set my personal bar low. However, the sheer magnitude of its underlying importance makes it sneak well past my periphery. I don’t care. Rather I am trying not to give a fuck, I’m just happy to have done this much and happier that people have stayed by my side through the whole process. I have a blog about expectations coming next, which should clue people in to a bit more of my feelings about this.
How easy I get side-tracked.
I don’t want this to be long and I don’t want to stray far from the impetus laid out at the heading of this post. My family, my friends, colleagues, acquaintances and well-wishers all mean so much to me at this point. It has changed my perspective on supporting others. On the surface, those that may not know me well may say “oh look, that fellow wrote a little booky wook, good for him.”
What worse words are there in our colloquial appreciation of the language than ‘good for you.’ That’s dog-speak, I’m a real boy. Like it just slipped, fell and landed with a fully-written and edited manuscript in my hands.
Well, he did. But he but it with his heart in to it like everything he do that matters. I stand by this work as a testament to not letting the people that supported down. I do it for me and I do it for us. We are, and hopefully continue to be, intertwined in each other’s journey’s and struggles. I have learnt that everyone needs kind words and support: em-pa-thee.
For so long I just let people do the damn thing around me and figured that they had the drive and ambition and other people to missile them through their mission. They may, but one kind word or even a modest attempt to reach out means so much.
Someone asking you a question about your work or acknowledging your hustle lets them know you see them. That you see me. Someone has taken notice of your pebble-moving and took the time out of their day to drop you a line, a like, a share or whatever. More important, it is that a connection has been made between you. There is a link that had possibly not even existed previously. There is a mutual understanding that support flows both ways. At least the way this bastard sees it.
2019 has been a big year of pledges for ol’ papa. I pledged to start this biz. I pledged to stop withholding my truthful feels and palabras in order to not do any damage. I pledged to be the most authentic and genuine me that I could. I pledged to release three books; one down. And now, I pledge to support anyone that I can with all my abilities to see them succeed as I would like. It’s not about gain of any kind, it’s about simple words and attention being the petrol that lights their fire. Music, art, cooking, personal blogs, photography or whatever skill someone is plying out of love for their craft. It doesn’t take a lot of time out of our day, which may just see us scrolling over dozens of strangers any way. Who knows, their shit might slap. It might connect like a right jab to the jaw of your spirit. You might surprised about your friends’ talents. It might incentivize you to share with other people and they share and then, like goddamn magic, you are all connected.
Or not. You don’t have to do shit. Your life is yours and you can lead it and spend it how you see fit, son. Your life may be busy and there is no time to listen to her new single or look at his new sculpture. It is choice and time, both of which are very expensive in these days, so we as people that create totally understand.
It’s just nice to hear from you. Creating shit can get mad lonely. Holler at me if you want me to support you, I’m in to it.
Fuck, I strayed again.
Thank you everyone who is reading this, who has passed my work to others and who has always been a figure of inspiration for ya boy. Let your people know about this blog or the book, which is free on Amazon for the weekend for reasons of exposure. If you have a paperback, I would love to write a message in it for you and thank you. If you have a question or any feedback, I would love to hear it. I get a halfer every single time someone starts off by asking me about my work. Easy there, perv. If you want to review the son of a bitch on amazon, please do, apparently it needs that. And finally, even if you said nothing but silently followed along with savage journey, I got your back and I appreciate it with all my fibres.
Sorry for cussin’,
You all mean the world to me,