Draft Dodging

I decided to start using the blog for general informative posting type stuff.  So figured I’d add the email updates about my recent trip to ecuador and the galapagos:

I thought I´d just send a quick group update because, well, I have about 15 minutes before we head up to one of the mountains surrounding Banos to sit in these hot springs and see if we can see the volcano spark (or just hang out in really beautiful hot springs that are all lit up at night and look down on the town, etc).

Anyways, the trip has been pretty amazing so far.  We got into Quito friday afternoon and roughly an hour after we got in town, just about when we were getting to our hotel, it began to pour…pour like Texas, not like seattle….rather discouraging.  But we manned (womanned?) up and headed into town where we spent the afternoon and evening wandering around this really neat, young, new area of Quito called Plaza Foche.  Quito in general is a giant, sprawling, largely poor city but this area was full of twenty-smoethings in skinny jeans and tall boots, wandering around drinking, smoking, and typing on thier blackberries.  We decided that the best way to immediately experience the scene was well, to eat and drink, which we did at roughly 7 different places throughout the night.  We ended up at a couple of really amazing restaurants and we had a fabulous evening, eating ecuadorian food (delicious), drinking pisco sours, making friends with some other travelers, and doing a little bit of dancing.  All in all, a really fun day, especially considering we had spent the entire previous night on a plane.  However. During our night of dancing, we ended up chatting with these ecuadorian guys (we´re guessing they were roughly 15….they wanted to dance with us, we decided to pump them for tourist information instead. haha) They told us that the mama negra festival that we were heading to the next day in Latacunga was canceled because a boy was killed…from a stray firework? No one else we asked in quito seemed to have any idea that the festival was canceled, though, so we decided to proceed as planned…

The next morning, we headed straight for the bus station where we caught the bus to Latacunga, a town about 2 hours to the south of us.  The bus ride was absolutely stunning–as we left the city, we began winding down what is essentially the edge of the andes.  the bus was pretty comfortable and we were able to just stare out the windows at the mountain vistas (which included terraced gardens and fields that are a cultural holdover from inca times!!!!! LOVE getting to see modern incarnations of inca culture) and the little towns.  The countryside seemed poor, but lively, with lots of tiny towns with broken down cars and brightly colored buildings. Anyways, we got to Latacunga and realized a few things: 1. our hostel was kind of sketchy….the people were´nt very nice, our room had no lock, and there seemed to be no water in the shared bathrooms…. 2. Latacunga sort of sucks. It´s a very run down town with a kind of lame colonial center and not much more to see. 3. the mama negra festival WAS CANCELED!!! (though it turned out it was canceled because a police many doing a routine training shooting thing accidentally shot a kid).  We left our hostel feeling slightly uneasy about the entire situation (mostly that there just wans´t much to do in latacunga now that we had no festival) and decided to wander around the town a little, grab some lunch, and just head to banos a day early.  This was an excellent, excellent descision.

We arrived in Banos about 2 hours later after another breathtaking bus ride.  This time we headed higher up into the mountains into the region of Tungurahua, named after the Tungurahua volcano which we first saw out of the bus window….probably the most dramatic mountain I have ever seen.  This volcano is seriously gigantic and basically this dark, pointy monolith that rises about the already steep, carpeted mountains.  We got into Banos and checked into our insanely cute hotel (called La Posada del Arte…not surprising based on the name, is brimming with colorful, vibrant, gorgeous local paintings…love it.  I have now decided I´m going to attempt to purchase an ecaudorian painting on this trip…) Anyways, Banos is a small town that is extremely popular with both Ecuadorian and foreign travelers.  It´s EXTREMELY picturesque–in a valley at the foot of the volcano, surrounded by mountains and waterfalls, and famous for its natural setting, hot springs and the spa culture that has sprung up around it. This also means that there are market-like stalls all over town, tons of restaurants, and about 8 billion tour operators.  Surprisingly, though, I haven´t found any of the tourist-focus to be abrasive or annoying–people are just super friendly and everything feels quaint and safe.  Last night we explored the town, hit up the hot springs that are open at night (and apparently good for the stomach and liver?) and then decided to take advantage of our last weekend night in ecuador (we´ll be in the Galapagos next weekend).  One street in town has all of the bars and clubs, and so we basically hopped from salsa club to salsa club, dancing, hanging out, and coming to the interesting conclusion that apparently pre-teen ecuadorian kids are WAY better dancers that we are (let me rephrase: than I am).

Today has been absolutely amazing.  We got up early and arranged (through our hotel) to go on a horseback riding tour of the volcano and the surrounding area.  This basically meant that we met our guide (super awesome guy named Heraldo…very friendly and knowledgeable about the area) and he brought us three horses and we hopped on and headed into the mountains.  The horses were super laid back (some might say lazy…my horse, Jacques, for example, liked to trot 2 steps and then walk 20, trot 2, walk 20, etc etc) and we wandered up one of the mountains.  it was so so beautiful, with incredible views of the mountains and the town below us.  After riding for about 45 minutes, Heraldo told us to get off our horses and hike for a bit…which we did until we got to this waterfall that cascaded down volcanic rocks in a rather precarious looking ravine.  Heraldo informed us that we would be leaving the horses and taking this contraption that I can only describe as a mix between a rudimentary chair lift and a zip line (picture a metal basket turned upright on a long rope).  We made him demonstrate the saftey of it and then took the plunge ourselves…SO MUCH FUN.  We ended up at this tiny bar-cafe on the other side of the ravine and the proprieter of the cafe and Heraldo gave us hot chocolate and took us on a walk from there, where we saw some really fascinating trees and plants, including this¨Dragon Tree, that literally bleeds (some sort of medicinal sap) when you hit it with a machete.  I would say this entire excursion was easily one of the coolest things I´ve ever done and we were in one of the most beautiful areas I´ve seen in a long time.

We got back on the horses and we back in town around 3 and we spent the rest of the afternoon buying cheap, fabulous jewlery and eating at this, for lack of a better word, food mall, which was this giant room comprised with small booths of women cooking various combinations of meat, potatoes, and rice and serving it with the best avocados ever. (we passed tons of avocado trees on our ride). Then we headed towards the spa recommended by our hotel and each got a ridiculously low priced, amazing massage.  Like I said…best day ever.  Now, like I said before, we´re off back into the mountains to check out this mountain top hot spring and tomorrow we head even farther south to Cuenca, which is supposed to be an extremely beautiful colonial town and a jumping off point for inca ruins.  It´s going to be quite the chore to get there (we decided to take the bus to the main town where you connect to Cuenca and then take a cab the next few hours from there instead of subjecting ourselves to a painful sounding 7 hour, mountain bus ride…) but whatever. should be worth it.

So as is clear from the lack of posts, I’ve been taking some time off from the writing world.  I decided to step back for a little while, clear my head, and try to get a sense of perspective about what I’m trying to do and why. I realized that, as I suspected before, I haven’t really found my story yet.  I was incredibly excited about the road trip concept for my book, but after that fell apart from the publishing angle, I haven’t been able to find something that piques my interest in the same way, something that makes me so curious, so fascinated, that all I want to do is research and write.  Pineapples would be fun…one day…but at this point, I’m feeling more beleaguered than anything—when I think about sitting down to try to get something on paper, I magically seem to remember something I desperately have to do. Like, you know, wash my hair. Immediately.

I’m not ready, of course, to give up on writing.  I still want to write and maybe one day want to make my living as a writer.  But I’m not sure if it’s time for that yet.  And the more I think about it, I’m not sure if I want it to be.  I had somewhat of an epiphany (fyi, this is going to descend into some zen-moment-type ramblings.  just warning you) that, obvious as it sounds, I have plenty of time.  Time to let my ideas mature and congeal, time to figure out what I really want to say, time to figure out what I want to do and who I want to be.  I’ve spent years stressing about what I want to be when I grow up.    But it’s occurred to me, more and more recently, that I’m not sure if I’ll ever get to that point when I’m at the end of the “when I grow up” line.  I think growing up—and being “grown up”—has to be a constant process, an exploration, a path of discovery, [insert next metaphore for "journey" here].  And why in the world would I want to complete that at age 23?

I tend to be somewhat impatient, and get easily envious of the people who seem to have found their path. They have one of my main existential questions all figured out…how unfair! But when I’m feeling nice and zen like today, I take a little bit of pleasure in the fact that I get to grapple with these questions and have that experience of self exploration and self reflection. I get to try new things, dip my toe into different pools, meet all sorts of people, learn how to think and operate in different ways. I never want to be in a position where I’m just floating aimlessly through the professional waters, but I’m just not too concerned anymore that what I’m doing at this very moment has to directly relate to what I will be doing in 20 years.  I may not be on a professional path, but damn, will I have me some emotional maturity.

So armed with my new (and new age…?) mentality, I’ve decided to table the book for a little while.  I still have my agent, who I’m in touch with, and she’s not going anywhere.  On that front, I feel like I’ve actually been able to do one of the hardest things in the publishing industry: convince someone that I have talent.  As for how to use that supposed talent, I’ll deal with that later (I choose to think of this as thoughtfulness rather than life-procrastination…). 

In the meantime, I’ve begun to talk to people at my current company about coming on full time, which I’m actually excited about.  It will mean, first of all, money to do things like plan a sweet south american adventure (and maybe buy an iphone…? I really want one….oh god, oh god, I’m so white) but more than that, it will mean that I’m able to go to work and devote myself to work while I’m there instead of constantly having a mental back and forth between work and book and work and life and book and….ahh. And it will also mean that when I’m not working, I get to reclaim that delicious, delicious freedom of being able to do whatever I want. And maybe sometimes that will be writing.  And maybe sometimes not.

I feel like I’m finally emerging from the constant barrage of upheavals that have defined my life since last november—quitting my job, moving apartments, living in a rockstar’s house, returning to seattle, being unemployed, trying to writing a book, being partially employed, having a relationship fall apart, having the book fall apart, trying not to personally fall apart, etc—and I am beginning to get back to the sense of stability, clarity, and my personal favorite, carefree joie de vivre (that one’s for you stephanie) that I’ve generally so loved about my post college life. I know many people get all of their fulfillment from work and I hope that one day my professional life will give me a unique, overarching sense of mission and purpose and fulfillment and fun and…you know, all that other good stuff.  But I don’t think I am the kind of person who will ever be singularly fulfilled by work, and for now, I’m pretty content pursuing a job that I enjoy, exploring ways I can contribute, learning what I can along the way, and staying open minded about the future.

And I’m also pretty content to have the time to really take advantage of that whole work-life balance thing (and of the fact that summer in seattle is just unbeatable.)  In the past month+, I’ve gotten back into karate, started doing yoga, gotten quickly obsessed with this sweet program called crossfit, hung out at the beach and on boats, gone hiking, kayaking, white water rafting, and met a ton of new people. Definitely worth more to me right now than running home from work to work some more. God, I feel so Eat, Pray Love-y right now. And to think I said this blog wouldn’t be emo. haha.

And as for the book, give me a year or so. Then we’ll see where I’m heading… And the blog? Well, stay tuned…unclear what to do with it now that I’m waiting on the book.  I do want to keep writing in it, just not sure what about yet—let me know if you have any suggestions!

So in my attempt to suck it up and deal (see previous entry),  I emailed my agent this morning to discuss running with the eccentrics idea.  I proposed writing a series of profiles of eccentrics to explore that line between the eccentric and the weirdo, and, as usual, nervously awaited her thoughts.  A few minutes later, she got back to me with an even more discouraging response than usual:

“Be careful. You seem determined (often) to take the fun out of subjects and turn them into thoughtful treatises. There’s nothing really wrong with that, except that such approaches make more sense as magazine articles. Ask yourself why anyone would buy a book on the subject before you decide on your approach. The point you make would work well in an introduction, but please remember that people who buy such books are looking to be entertained. I have to wonder: Might you not be happier doing magazine pieces?”

Nothing like a good comment about taking the fun out of things to knock the wind out of my sails…My first mental response was indignant. She’d turned down all of my fun ideas! How am I supposed to know what kinds of things are considered publishable?? I LOVE fun! And I OBVIOUSLY want to write a book! I wrote back quickly, essentially asking her for guidance as I try to learn about what makes something publishable and reaffirming my interest in the book project.  I asked her advice about what kinds of things she initially had in mind in terms of the eccentrics project, and explained to her that, “I think I’m just struggling to figure out what a real book topic would actually be.  I’m pretty clueless about what does make something publishable, so am just looking for nuggets that seem interesting. I would actually really love to be writing a book, but am just having trouble figuring out what a book of this type would quite entail.”

With lightening speed, she responded in the kind of email that, well, almost felt like an obvious chastisement for my thought process throughout much of this experience. She wrote, echoing many of the things you have all said to me as well:

“Here’s my advice:
1. Don’t write a book for the sake of writing a book. HUGE mistake.
2. If you want to move forward, go to a bookstore and find a book that you look at and think, “I wish I had written that!” Stick to fun stuff and don’t try to get too anthropological about the subject. Write a book that people will want to buy because it’s FUN. That’s what sells, and you don’t have credentials to do much more at this stage of your career.
3. Don’t write a book about eccentrics because some agent suggested it as an idea. What are you passionate about, Julia?
4. Memorize #1.”

I mean, I KNOW! I KNOW! But, as with many things I tend to “know”, I began to realize just how swept up in the idea of “opportunity” I have gotten as opposed to the idea of really writing a book itself. Wanting to keep the communication going, I wrote back, ruefully:

“Okay, points taken! I REALLY want to write a book about pineapples. But I also don’t want to devote a huge amount of life and time to something that’s not going to ever go anywhere. But I also realize that sometimes just trying is what it takes. Other than that, I’m still on the clueless train :)”

Before she wrote back again, I began to think about this entire exchange, which literally occurred over the span of 5 minutes. Maybe I DON’T want to be writing a book right now. Maybe I’m not ready. Maybe I haven’t found my story yet. Maybe I’ve rushed into this. Maybe I need to get some perspective about what I really want to do—not necessarily what I really want to be doing with my life, but what I want to be doing in the here and now. Is tabling a project until I’ve figured out what topic will truly drive me to write really letting go of an opportunity? Or is it letting my thoughts and ideas mature, letting them age, letting them develop to a point of potential…?

I had left the room for a few minutes—I needed to get some air, to get away from my computer, to turn things over in my mind for a little while without the pressure of the “refresh” button sitting right in front of me, poised to bring me yet another discouraging answer. But when I came back, of course, another email from my agent was sitting in my inbox, this time with the foreboding subject line, “Okay, I’m calling your bluff…” Okay, fine, I’ll bite. What bluff? She wrote:

“You know, if you really want to write about pineapples, then I think you should take a shot at a proposal. Go ahead, Julia—convince me! (Yes, I’m serious. The first book I ever worked on was a book called APPLES. Who am I to stand in the way of fruit?) But go to the bookstore and find a book that works as a template for yours. (Try to stay away from full-color treatments.) Go get ‘em!”

Ahh! reverse! reverse! Brake! Wait, what?? Sign off to start thinking about pineapples? Omg! Yess! But…what about the stuff I was thinking about before?  Am I ready to jump into another book project, just because I want to be writing a book? Just because I’ve told all of you dear readers that this is some cool thing I’m doing?

To be completely honest, when I started thinking about tabling the book project a few minutes ago, the emotion that I felt most visibly was relief.  And then when I saw this email, the first actual email in ages in support of one of my ridiculous ideas, my first gut reaction was a utterly unhelpful combination of excitement and sheer terror. Excitement because, duh, what would be more fun than actually writing a book about pineapples?  But the terror—as terror tends to—nipped that excitement in the bud, as I began to visualize myself trying to tackle this gigantic project, in between everything else that’s typically going on, in what feels like an ill-fated attempt to prove myself. Would I be doing this, I asked, because it’s what I really really want for myself right now or would I be doing this because I felt pressure to succeed at this task that fell into my lap at a completely random time?

A few hours later, I left to grab some lunch and called my mom on the way (yes, I clearly still go running to my parents. Yes, I feel just great about this. My parents are awesome).  I told her about the series of emails and my reactions, and told her that I was thinking about reevaluating just what kind of writer I want to be.  “Maybe,” I said, “my agent is right.  Maybe I am just trying to write a book for the sake of writing a book.  Maybe I should really think about trying to find a job that allows me to write full time instead of trying to simultaneously work and write, maybe I should look into magazine work, maybe I should take on my current job full time and give myself a break and some time to figure out what it is that I really want to be writing about and then be ready to go after it with everything I have.”

My mom responded with both confidence and concern. She told me that she had always, always thought I would be a wonderful magazine writer (I, of course, interrupted her at this point to worry about the fact that, though I do a ton of writing, I have no real portfolio to convince anyone that I should actually be a staff writer somewhere), and that she was worried that, with this book project, I had, in fact, taken the fun out of my current writing.  Not because she thought I couldn’t do it or because my suggested topics weren’t good—she IS my mother, so naturally, she thought most of my ideas were fabulous—but that I wasn’t enjoying the writing because I hadn’t yet figured out what it was that I wanted to say.  She suggested that I pursue the pineapple idea, but basically ignore the fact that I wanted to turn it into a book and instead write up a fun, interesting, funny article and bring it to my agent to show the potential richness of the idea. She also noted, astutely, that I’ve been trying so hard to both work and write that I haven’t really been able to get into either endeavor, and that maybe I need to really get involved in something before trying to make it at everything. Maybe taking a break and devoting myself to my job for a little while wasn’t giving up on writing, but giving it time to percolate.  Ah, my mom is wise.

I know that I shouldn’t discount my “big questions” about this stuff, just because my agent has told me she’s on board with me at least giving the pineapple idea some thought.  And I also don’t want to discount the fact that, OMG!, maybe I could actually write a book about pineapples. But I have a lot to figure out. How, more holistically, do I want to incorporate writing into my life? Do I really want to be an author? follow up: do I really want to be an author right now? Do I want to work for a magazine? Do I want to be a columnist? A blogger?  I think I have some ideas to ponder and a lot of overall thinking about this stuff to do…

So sorry about the lag in posts—it’s been a crazy week that took me to Texas and back, and I’m only now starting to get back into the swing of things.  I didn’t go to Dallas to talk and think about writing, but it ended up being tied into many of the larger things I was mulling over when I was there.

When I was there, in between Mexican meals and my personal favorite shopping combination of clothes and books (well, okay, and shoes), I spent a lot of time thinking about how in the world I was going to fit writing into my life.  It would be so easy…SO easy…to just accept a full time job at the company where I’ve been working, toss the writing thing, and settle into a life where I have one solid work focus (and significantly more funds…).  But I just can’t quite bring myself to do that. But I also can’t quite seem to figure out how to get back on track with whatever my book will become.  After having a conversation somewhere along these lines with my dad, he bought me the Anne Lamont book, Bird by Bird, a novelist’s book of reflections about writing.  I’d read this book a long time ago but had sort of forgotten what it was about, and as I flipped through it a few days ago, I really took to heart the story behind her title, which is, without adding in all of the story and metaphor from the book, that you have to take writing one step at a time.  You have to set tiny goals, you have to look at it like, even if you’re writing a 10 volume book, each segment is essentially just one essay, just one article, just one concept, just one idea.  And when you take it bit by bit, or bird by bird as her case may be, you find that you can accomplish so much more than when you try to tackle the gigantic, daunting task of writing a book.  This just makes so much sense.  I mean, duh. Obviously. But for some reason, this just hadn’t really set in until I took a step back and began to get a little perspective.

Anyways, armed with my shiny new perspective, I once again attempted to step-by-step my way through figuring out my topic.  Of course, naturally, nothing falls into place that easily. Damn revelations and their lack of actionable items. I got frustrated trying to force the brainstorm, and instead shifted into an easy, relaxed conversation with my dad.  For some reason, I brought up reenactors (of the historical, literary, whatever type) as an example of an unrelated point, and my dad looked up and asked, “why don’t you write your book about reenactors?” Ah. Interesting.

“They’re certainly eccentric,” he pointed out,  “and they would bring in a lot of the historical and literary tidbits that you love.” As he talked, I felt a gut connection to the idea, an excitement that I get about many things (see my ridiculous list from a few posts earlier…) but that I have been worried is missing when I think about writing about eccentrics in general.

I began to do a little research and found that not only are there the Civil War reenactors that immediately come to mind, but there are people who reenact literally just about everything.  There is an Anne of Green Gables reenactment house, reenactment pirate ships (naturally), entire cadres of Renaissance reenactors, people who reenact the Roman legions and the ancient Egyptians, witch trials, court trials, and the shooting of buffalo bill. Totally fascinating! In further conversations with my parents, we began to explore the idea more–what kinds of concepts motivate people to completely immerse themselves in another place and time?  Where are the lines between healthy, albeit obscure, escapism and  the people who are acting out a far sicker, stranger type of skewed reality?

When I got back to Seattle, I did a little more research about reenactors, and then, excited, wrote an email to my agent.  Within roughly 3 minutes I had my extremely lukewarm, one line answer: “Like the roadside project, I worry that the stories might not be as interesting as the re-enactments. But I guess only research will tell. I’m not high on this one.”

crap.

fine.

next.

I was talking with my friend Tiffany yesterday about the nessecary evils of being a realtively early entry into the workforce, and I wonder if some of the same concepts apply to being an inexperienced writer in the publishing world.  Essentially we were discussing how hard it is to come out of college, armed with your nifty new education (and, of course, my favorite, generational entitlement) and to then enter a job in which, despite that nifty education and of course your vast and legendary leadership skills, you are the lowest of the low in the ranking system.  And while you do probably have what it takes to do much more, you simply lack the experience (and the business street cred) to deserve it, and so there is a certain amout of sucking it up and dealing that has to happen before you can do the really cool stuff.  So maybe this is true about the publishing industry too?  I have this sense that I should be writing about things that I love, but maybe I, too, need to do a little sucking it up and dealing so that I can actually get myself published, get some credentials and my name on the editorial map, and then have more leverage when it comes to writing about what I love.  But this seems so….corporate. Hmm. In any event, I think I need to revist the idea of just writing essentially a fun, lighthearted anthology of eccentrics like my agent suggested, and then see where that takes me.  Though, secretly, I’m still holding onto my idea of writing a book about pinneaples…..

Blog count: 4, 470

Book count: -5,429

It’s been a rather tumultuous day or two and I’ve definitely not found myself in a working mood. [insert rampant fears that this blog will be a documentation of the reasons I have done zero work on my book]. I do think it’s especially difficult to jump into working on a project that has returned to a completely undefined state (no sense of what “working” even entails at this point). But my inability to work in the face of external distractions also really underscores the fact that when I do determine what my topic will be, it’s got to be something that is so fascinating and inspiring to me that I can push everything else away and dive into the work because it excites me and consumes me that much.

This becomes especially true when I begin to think about what it would actually be like to live with a full time freelance schedule. Sometimes it sounds wonderful: no office that requires me to sit at a desk all day, ability to take naps whenever I want, no external schedule, no constraints, no boundaries, no requirements. On the other hand, it sounds terrifying: no office that provides a work environment, potential to lie around in my bed all day, no schedule to keep me on the ball, no constraints, no boundaries, no requirements. I know it’s about discipline and about creating habits and work spaces but I also think it’s about working on something that you genuinely want to be working on. But again with that damn generational entitlement.

Anyways, with this in mind, I attempt to move onwards with the attempts to research and refine, and to think generally about eccentrics to see where they fit in my broader interests.  I think one of the first steps is defining the term “eccentric”, and so I leave you with this interesting quote I found in a Time Magazine article that strives to distinguish between weirdos and eccentrics:

“The eccentric we generally regard as something of a donny, dotty, harmless type, like the British peer who threw over his Cambridge fellowship in order to live in a bath. The weirdo is an altogether more shadowy figure — Charles Manson acting out his messianic visions. The eccentric is a distinctive presence; the weirdo something of an absence, who casts no reflection in society’s mirror. The eccentric raises a smile; the weirdo leaves a chill.”

Though eccentrics seem more palatable, I can’t say that the weirdos sound altogether uninteresting….(though maybe that’s just my love for Law and Order speaking)

Hopefully I’ll have more for you guys in a few days, though by then I’ll be en route to Texas for a weekend of relaxing and reflecting and spending time with the people who best know how to productively challenge my ideas….we’ll see what I’ve come up with there and when I get back!

Blog Count: 3,474

Book Count: -5,429

In the lofty spirit of denial, I have dealt with the change/demise of my book topic by, well, not dealing with it at all.  I mean, I’ve thought about it…some. I’ve talked about it…some. But I certainly haven’t worked on it at all.  Okay I take that back.  I googled the word “eccentrics”.  Huge step for writers everywhere.

While part of my reluctance to jump back into the process is simply because I wanted a break, I think it’s mostly because I haven’t quite figured out how to make the overarching topic of “famous eccentrics” into something that is uniquely my own.  In one of my first conversations with my agent, she told me that I’m going to have to overcome the fact that, while I’ve certainly done some cool things, I have no real credentials. Publishers, she explained, want to know why the person submitting a proposal is specifically qualified to write about that topic—they want people with related PhDs, with years of personal experience in the field, with pre-arranged speaking circuits, with captive audiences (this, dear readers, is where you will hopefully come in one day), with a semblance of expertise.  I, of course, have none of these things. So it’s going to be up to me to make my case for why I should be writing at all.

I think I can start that process in my eventual proposal itself by discussing my previous writing experience (and maybe getting some sweet references.  I’m sure dropping rockstar names can’t hurt anything…), but in order to make this book  viable, I think it needs to have an angle that is unique enough and interesting enough that it will convince a publisher that, because I came up with it, I should write it, regardless of prior experience.  And perhaps more importantly, it will speak to my own interests and thus allow me to  write in a fuller, richer, way. In a recent email, after all, my agent also said, “if you’re not entertained by what you’re writing, you can’t expect readers to fall in line.”

I was talking about this with a friend who is a prolific writer and blogger, and he was skeptical that anyone would be able to really write about a topic that was just handed to them.  He himself was lucky enough, he explained, to be writing for publications that really spoke to his interests, and so was able to simply find things that interested him and explore those ideas.  Obviously, this is an ideal situation, and I know when it comes to creating something that is publishable, there is going to have to be a crucial give and take…especially, since I am frequently reminded, many of my interests err on the obscure side. But I think my friend was right in saying that you can’t force writing about something that is just dropped in your lap (journalism, obviously, non-withstanding—totally different kinds of writing).

Our conversation lingered with me, and, in an attempt to find that sweet spot between my mind and the publishing world’s pockets, I decided to revisit a list I made several months ago about things that make me incredibly intellectually excited.  It was back when I was thinking about jobs in a very broad sense, and in an attempt to figure out what I wanted to do, I made this list to try to see if it added up to anything. I never came to any useful conclusions about it, but now, looking back, I thought maybe I would find some insight about how I might be able to present or narrow the topic of famous eccentrics.   The items on the list are random, disparate, unnecessarily specific, often ridiculous, and all things that I would love to somehow write about.  Here is the list, in no particular order and in no way exhaustive, copied straight from the google doc itself:

• travel
• stories
• mesoamerica (pre and immediately post conquest—art, religion, culture, society, politics, customs, language)
• the early American west—culturally, not militarily, unless it involves Indian revolts and religion
• La Malinche (Cortes’s translator and mistress—fascinating historical woman)
• conquistadors
• mythology/fairy tales (of all cultures and comparisons between cultures)
• psychology of pop culture
• young adult literature
• nostalgia for the 90s
• teen drama (in pop culture, primarily on tv—not actual teen drama)
• americana
• learning about earth sciences (broad concepts and theories, not equations/lab work type things
• making history interesting and fun
• political satire
• liberal politics
• feminism (esp the feiminism/feminity line and the complexities of a “having it all” mindset)
• medical abnormalities (not sure how this one snuck in…but seriously, what’s more interesting than really bizarre medical stuff? Maybe polygamous cults. But other than that, I’m really not sure.)
• polygamous cults.  Or just fringe religious expressions.
• seeing evidence that history was real (aka history + travel)
• historic maps
• pineapples

So that’s what I’ve got, strange as it is. Any thoughts about how to turn this stuff into a book? About eccentrics? That sells?

Blog count: 3,004

Book count: -5,429

Disclaimer: This post has nothing to do with the S.E. Hinton book by the same name.  Except for the standing fact that I am a huge fan of young adult literature and it often sneaks into my references and allusions.  Hmmm maybe I’ll write my book about that….What can I say, it’s that whole cultural consciousness thing.

Okay, so yesterday we set the scene for how I started this book project.  Today, I need to get you up to speed with everything that’s happened in the 3 months since then.  It is a tale of excitement and disappointment, of travel and travails, of dreams and dreams deferred.  And is, of course, absolutely not melodramatic at all.

When I returned from Florida, I set out to work on the book project in earnest. I began researching what needs to go into a book proposal and trying to refine my idea for the book itself. I also realized that I needed to figure out a “real job” pretty quickly so that I could continue to do things like “pay rent” and “have insurance”. [insert angry rant here about the lack of infrastructure provided to unmarried people who want to pursue creative careers]. After spending a few weeks gathering information and applying for jobs, I made two crucial decisions: I accepted a part time (4 days a week) job managing content for an online start up and I decided to tackle the sample chapter section of the proposal before dealing with the proposal itself.  I would have a steady stream of income, though obviously significantly less time to write and, more importantly for the purposes of this blog, a jumping off point to start real work on the book.

My agent advised me that the sample chapter should be just as thoroughly researched and well-written as a chapter in a manuscript itself, and so I set out to find something that would lend itself to my project and that would be easy enough to research from Seattle.  I had already come to the conclusion that I wanted to write about the roadside monuments that were inspired by personal as opposed to purely capitalistic motivations (i.e. someone’s life project vs. an orange-shaped orange stand which is, well, not particularly interesting). I spent some time on RoadsideAmerica.com and flipped through a series of travel guides, travelogues, and books like Jane and Michael Stern’s Amazing America. Eventually, I decided to write about this incredible full-size replica of Stonehenge only a few hours away in eastern Washington.

I dove into the research, and, to make what, at the time, felt like an extremely long story short, I spent the next two months learning and writing about Stonehenege and its endearingly megalomaniacal builder, Sam Hill. After days at the Seattle library, a truly fabulous weekend road trip out to Stonehenge itself, weeks of running home from work to try to force myself to write, facebook pages of turned-down social events, emo complaining sessions to my ever-understanding friends and family, and a slew of Fridays camped out at coffee shops around Seattle (havens for us faux hipsters with our freelance careers, plastic-frame glasses, and beautiful, beautiful macs), I had produced a sample chapter.

Even though the sample chapter was only one small piece of the proposal, I felt a huge, huge sense of accomplishment at its completion.  I was pleased with what I had written and, especially since it felt like I had been working on it for ages, I was eager to having something that I could show my agent.  While her initial confidence in my project was exciting, I struggled with the nagging fact that she had never actually seen any of my writing. She liked my idea….but when she actually read the chapter, would she still think the book was viable?  After getting comments and edits from many of my closest friends and family members, I revisited and revised several sections, and then sent it into my agent. For judgment. Eeek.

A week later, when I was at work, I received an email from my agent ominously titled, “A Dilemma”. Essentially, she really liked my writing—she praised my voice, my style, my skills as a historian—but the chapter simply didn’t pique her interest.  She felt like dissecting a roadside monument almost “took some of the fun out of it”.  She thought, as a whole, that “the writing was better than the material itself” and asked me to call her the next day to talk about other projects.  After reading the email, I calmly left my office for a good bathroom-stall cry.  After a few purely self indulgent minutes, I took some of those ever-helpful deep breaths, wiped my tears, and went back to my computer to share the news with the people closest to me, attempt to ward off that cursed writer’s angst (ahhh this blog wasn’t supposed to be about angst! damn), and figure out my next steps.

As I reread the email over the course of the day, I began to warm up to some of the better aspects of her response: she thought I had talent, she wanted to work with me, and she thought I had the potential to write a successful book—it just wasn’t going to be this one.  Our subsequent emails underscored these conclusions. She wrote, for example:

“Sometimes I feel like I break hearts for a living. On the other hand, Julia, this was not time wasted. You learned something about what’s publishable and I learned that you’re a talented writer…I will try to soften the blow tomorrow by telling you over and over again how wonderful you are. I would love for you to do a collection of stories about great eccentrics. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

Okay. I can deal with that. Painful, but, in the grand scheme of things (which, of course, takes into account the fact that I’ve never tried anything remotely like writing a book before) not too bad.

And this brings us up to where I am today.  I still have an agent who wants to represent me but now I no longer have that original spark of an idea. Or a sample chapter. But I do have a new starting point and am going to take the “great eccentrics” idea, do a little research, and see if I can find an interesting way to make the broad idea my own.  Feel free to share thoughts and ideas if you have anyone in mind who might be the vehicle towards telling a great, ridiculous, fascinating, fun, historical story….

And to begin a feature that Kemp suggested accompany each entry:

Blog word count: 2,187

Book word count: -5,429 (document formerly known as a sample chapter).

I never, ever thought this year would turn into the year I would try to write a book.  While I’ve always been interested in writing and have consistently incorporated writing into my various jobs, it always seemed like a little bit of a stretch to think that I would just….start trying to write a book.  I didn’t know the first thing about the publishing industry and, more importantly, was a little too afraid of the giant, gaping hole of uncertainty that comes with trying to write and THEN seeing if someone wants to pay for it to actually attempt to pursue anything (of course as I write this now, I am deep in that cruel, cruel hole. Though it remains unclear if this bothers me on a macro level or if I’m just sad that I can’t fill up my google calendar farther than 2 weeks in advance).

Anyways, at that point I had been working in Seattle for a little over a year, and while I had come to adore the city, I was apathetic to the point of frustration at my internet marketing job.  It wasn’t as if I dreaded going to work each day, but it certainly wasn’t giving me the fulfillment or even just the creative outlet I had hoped to find in my work. (yes, I left college feeling entitled to a job that would be  fulfilling, intellectually stimulating, lucrative, fun, creative, full of perks, etc. yes, my generation feels entitled. yes, we’re only hurting ourselves). I had just barely taken my job searching out of its passive phase (read: perusing craigslist while bored at work. wishing I was elsewhere) into its active phase (read: submitting resumes and cover letters into the bottomless pits of big companies’ online job databases) when a series of extremely lucky and extremely unlikely events happened that changed everything:

1. I got a job tutoring the child of a world famous rockstar.

Like many of the things in the very early part of the story, this job just…fell in my lap.  A close friend of my sister’s whom I had also grown to know worked for the family for a few years after college and remained in touch with them.  She knew I wasn’t thrilled with my job and that I had a background and interest in teaching, and thought of me when the family called her to ask if they knew anyone who would like to tutor their daughter for a 3 month period over the winter.  Their daughter is an extremely accomplished equestrian and left school every January to compete in an extended tournament in Florida. Naturally, this meant they needed someone to come live with them in Florida and tutor their daughter so that she kept up with all of her school work during the tournament. Such is the life of rock royalty. After a whirlwind interview process, I packed up my preppiest clothes (a last minute panic resulted in the impulse purchase of 4 pairs of khaki pants that remain unworn) and my “work wardrobe” of bathing suits and jean skirts, and left the Seattle rain to cavort with rock stars. And by cavort I mean work for. But whatever. Still cool.

2. I had a very fortuitous dinner with said rockstar’s wife, who, for the purposes of this blog, we will call “Marie”

During dinner one day in Florida, the conversation somehow turned to road trips.  Chatty as always, I piped up that I thought it would be a lot of fun to drive around the country and write about the stories behind roadside attractions.  Marie was surprisingly excited by the idea and told me that she would put me in touch with their “book person”. Though my interested was certainly piqued, I didn’t put too much stock in this moment.  Who was this “book person” and with everything else she had going on, why in the world would Marie take the time to arrange an intro to encourage my random dinner whim?

3. Marie did, in fact, put me in touch with the “book person”

A few weeks later, Marie stepped by me in the kitchen, looked over her shoulder, and said, “Oh, Julia.  I got in contact with our book person.  She’s waiting to hear from you.”  I had been operating on the assumption that Marie had forgotten about her offer (and was revving up my courage to remind her about it….), and was shocked and touched to hear that she had not only remembered our conversation, but had followed up on it. I gushed my thanks, and headed upstairs to follow up.  It was not until I got to my room that I realized I had absolutely no idea what “book person” meant–was this woman a publisher, an agent, an editor, a consultatnt?–and what in the world did she do for this musician?  He wrote music, not books….

I used my mad google skills to ascertain that she was a well-respected, well-connected agent who founded her own agency/book packaging firm operating out of New York and New Jersey.  Excellent.  Very excellent. I sat down to write her an email, excited, but incredibly skeptical about the outcome.  If I knew anything about the publishing industry at that point, it was that it’s extremely difficult to get anything published and that it’s no simple task to get an agent, editor, etc, to go out on a limb for a random, unpublished, twenty-something. I was expecting a response along the lines of, “Nice idea, but lots of work ahead of you. Here are some links to websites that offer advice about how to write proposals. Good luck!”

4. The agent wanted to work with me?!?!

Little did I know at the time, my ideas and broader interest–combining the academic with the absurd–fit in perfectly with my agent’s body of work.  Apparently Marie had tipped her off that we would get along well  (”because we are both wacky and “eccentric”. I have chosen to not take offense to this but am vaguely suspicious….), and she was excited about the direction I was going.  In the moment that transformed this completely vague hint of an idea into something that had the potential of actually happening, she wrote, “I think this is do-able, Julia, and I’d love to agent this once you have a proposal in hand. Can you call me on Monday?”

omg. omg. omg.

And so I had an agent.  And the spark of an idea.  And absolutely no idea how to write a book. It was a start.