o what does that mean, that I’m a crier?
Well, I guess it means exactly that: I cry.
I cry on a fairly regular basis. And that’s something that I’ve always kept to myself, something my ex-wife didn’t even know about me.
Maybe that’s why she’s my ex.
In some ways, growing up I felt as though it were something to be embarrassed about.
Not anymore.
I realize only now that it’s a real asset instead of a liability.
Let’s face it, folks, if you want to write the next great American love story (and I absolutely do), you need to be in touch with your emotions.
I won’t say that I cry at the drop of a hat but it’s pretty damn close. What’s gets to me, more than anything else, is music.
Leave me alone in the car for more than fifteen minutes with my iPod and I’m usually tearing up listening to something.
And it’s not always a sad or sappy love song that gets the waterworks going.
What touches me are songs that make me think about myself and my life, lyrics that make me reflect on me and just how much potential that I really do have as a writer and artist.
Remember, it’s confidence not cockiness.
It’s about believing in myself more days than not, and realizing that with enough focus and determination, then that “Yes, I did it!” moment will be here sooner than later.
That it’s inevitable.
What really gets me is a song that makes me realize, for even just a moment, of all the potential that I have with this story that I’ve been desperately trying to finish for over a decade.
Please, don’t misunderstand me, I’m definitely thankful for this ultra-sensitive side to me.
I think that ultimately, it helps me to craft a better story.
I read somewhere once that Nicholas Sparks, who I admire quite a bit as a writer, claims to have cried only once over the years, while in the process of writing each one of his bestselling novels (over a dozen to date).
I find that incredibly hard to believe but perhaps it’s true.
That could be one of the key ingredients to his success: he’s a machine, in a sense that year in and year out he can churn out a new novel.
He doesn’t allow himself to become emotionally attached to each book. Unlike yours truly, he doesn’t put all of his eggs in one basket.
But I can tell you all this with one hundred percent certainty: what I’m suffering from isn’t writer’s block but rather fear and doubt.
After all, that was the original intent of this entry, to let you all know what scares the crap out of me.
So here it is:
I’m very confident that when the book is finally done, that I will in fact sell the damn thing.
I’m also confident that the book will find it’s intended audience of millions and will sell well.
Very well.
Herein lies the problem:
I see myself eventually going on a national book tour.
I envision hundreds of fans lined up at each signing, all eagerly awaiting their autographed copy of AKITS.
And to make matter worse, for some ungodly reason, it seems like every other one of these raving lunatics (whom I adore), want to get their picture taken with me.
I know most of you are rolling your eyes, and from where you’re sitting I certainly can’t blame you.
But that’s the future that I’ve always envisioned for myself in regards to my debut novel.
My dilemma?
I don’t see how in the world I can even begin to deal with this, despite the fact that, yes, these are the trappings of success.
I’ve gotten teary-eyed just listening to some of you crying to me over the phone, telling me how much you loved the screenplay and what the story has meant to you.
How am I supposed to remain cool, calm, and collected when I have a seemingly endless number of fans lined up, ready to do the same thing to me in person?
Am I being overly dramatic? Maybe. Probably.
But I had to get that off my chest. I had to be honest and just get that out there in the open.
Is it going to stop me from getting ‘out on the road’ and meeting all these raving and enthusiastic fans? Absolutely not.
Will I be nervous as I wait to meet each one of them? I will be terrified.
No doubt that I’ve been called an ‘idiot’ by friends and family throughout the years but I’m quite certain that I’ve never been referred to as a ‘blubbering idiot’.
But a bestselling-blubbering-idiot?
You want to know something?
I think I can learn to live with that.