-Rainer Maria Rilke
Two years ago I started blogging On the Road with Jack and then when I began my new job at Bicycle Alliance of Washington I fell off the map, except for the occasional holiday post. I'm here to tell you I'm back in the saddle (all these bike analogies seem to work!) and will resume chronicling my journey as a single gay guy living in Seattle, now happily employed with a bicycle advocacy and education non-profit, who completed a trip to India last winter, and recently reached the mid-century mark. There is a lot to catch you up on. Today I want to focus on dreams and how it sometimes can take awhile to make them come true. The key is perseverance--with tenacity anything is possible.
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| India: Full of Inspiration, March 2013 |
One of the reasons for starting On the Road was to keep you--my readers--abreast of progress on my coming of age memoir, R.J., Farrah, and Me: A Young Man's Gay Odyssey from the Inside Out. After completing the original manuscript in the fall of 2010, and receiving constructive feedback from three people I respect and who understand my writing, I've spent the last 2-1/2 years crafting a second revision. Folks said they wanted more of me in the story, more emotion, more feeling, more "getting naked" as my professor and friend Hubert suggested. Scary!!
For the first time writer of any memoir, this task is not an easy one. When I first put pen to paper I found it easier to observe myself from the outside looking in rather than the inside looking out. I had to change and it took courage. Two plus years of it.
I know my determination to push forward was a sign that I really cared about my subject matter. The memoir is about teenage friendship and the importance of connection in a world where all of us sometimes feel like the misfit toys in Santa Claus is Coming to Town. But in 1976 I met my best friend R.J. in a children's acting class, and everything changed. I no longer felt odd-man out. We discovered we shared a mutual obsession over Charlie's Angel Farrah Fawcett-Majors and bought all the magazines she graced, cut out the covers and stories, and pasted them in our Farrah scrapbooks. Instead of baseball cards, we collected Farrah! R.J. also taught me three important life lessons: how to shave, how to disco dance, and how to...well, you'll have to buy the book to find out the third one!
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| Jack and R.J., Huntington Beach, Bay Village, OH July 1979 |
Over the weekend I attended the Pacific Northwest Writers Conference in my own backyard, Seattle! I decided after finishing my second revision on July 4 I needed to take the next step and find out how to get my book published. This conference held every year brings together writers from all over the Northwest and beyond to mingle with agents, editors, authors, and people working in the publishing industry. I arrived for four intense days of workshops on the craft of writing, whether to self-publish or pursue a deal with a traditional publishing house, presentations by publishing pros, and an opportunity to pitch my book to agents and editors.
Saturday morning my stomach was full of butterflies as I rode the light rail to the SeaTac Hilton, where I would make my pitch. Arriving early I visited the "pitching room," where people could practice with others and hone their delivery before attending the formal session with 32 agents and 8 editors. I met a gregarious woman from Montana who advised me to "keep it short, we've only got 4 minutes!" Thanks to Sandy, I whittled my delivery to the essence--setting is suburban Cleveland, 1976, thirteen year old Jack who can't throw a ball straight meets R.J. in children's theatre classes, everything changes, Farrah obsession, three life lessons, one sultry summer evening physical relationship ensues, Jack struggles with the implications of this night, his relationship with R.J., and his very identity over the course of a decade.
One half hour later along with over 100 other writers I entered the room where all those agents and editors sat in ordered desks at the very front. Thanks to Sandy I felt confident and prepared, I'd identified the four agents and one editor I wanted to meet. I got in a line for the first one, a bell rang, and the pitching began. After my first meeting I grew more confident when the agent gave me her card and said "send it to me." I collected two more cards from agents who wanted to see my manuscript. Two editors expressed interest and gave me their cards.
That day I felt exuberant. I reclined on a chaise near the outdoor pool in the warm sunshine and exhaled like I'd carried the world on my shoulders and now could release the pulleys. A big smile grew across my face. I'd started this project in February 2010 by daring to dream I could write a book, which I'd fantasized about since childhood. Regardless of what happens with the agents and editors who review the manuscript over the next few months, I'm on my way.
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| Farrah, The Muse of 1976 Click on the Poster to Learn the Story of her Red Bathing Suit! |
