THE WRITER IS GOD

Been in touch the last couple of weeks with Melissa Ellefson of Duluth, Minnesota. She's a writer who is crafting a compelling life story. You see, Melissa was a drunk. A drunk of Jim Frey proportions. Her first three chapters were captivating. She effectively communicated her craving, her outlandish need for booze, her compulsion. And she describes some pretty out there behavior. Trouble is, the book's not done. She want's a publisher to "believe" in her writing, to use her word.

So, there you have it. Who is going to have faith in this situation?

She wants me to believe in her story, offer to publish it, and go forth into the cold, cruel, world of mayhem known as publishing a book, so that she can continue writing with a guarantee.

Okay, scene change...

My basement. The "warehouse" for 20,000 some odd Savage Press books that have not sold in the last 20 years. I'm looking for a book that we published in 1997. Someone want's five copies. What has driven me into the catacombs to battle a bizillion dust mites with only two partially functioning nostrils? Someone wants five copies of a book that was published 12 years ago. Oh my frikking God! A customer!! An actual paying customer!!!

Okay, maybe I should be writing daytime drama. But, there you have it. Who is going to have faith in a book? It starts with the author writing, without (for the most part) assurance that their story will ever be read. Maybe, if the writer is lucky and the publisher is a blind man searching around in his dark basement for five copies amid 20,000, just maybe, five readers out there in the world of millions and millions of readers, will have the good fortune of getting their need to read met by that blind man.

And the writer? The writer will have passed away years ago never having known that his work would someday be in "popular" demand by five souls still living and breathing and having their being on this plane of existence.

So, there you have it again. Faith. Who has the most faith? From whence cometh faith?

Two words, friends. Two words to the four people who follow this blog.

THE WRITER.

John 1:14 says that the word became flesh and dwelt among us. The WRITER makes the word flesh and it dwells among us. Not the publisher. Not the reader.

THE WRITER

HONORING BOOKS AND AUTHORS

I'm finding the newspaper content here in Ireland to be much more literary in slant. It's also more informal and it is more...what can I say...vulgar? Earthy? Bare breasted women on page two could be called earthy I suppose. Using fuck on page one but ***in out cocksucker in the same paragraph could be called earthy I suppose. I've also seen that books have higher regard over here. I'm attending a book festival in Ennis and it seems there is a lot of devotion to the book...the non-electric kind. (Kindle's got its work cut out for it here.) I'm guessing there is more devotion to the book in NYC than there is in Superior, Wisconsin where the last word in the state is SIN, so I can't complain too much when I feel like my corner of the world eschews books for beer. But it is nice to be in a society where authors and books are more revered than cheese and brats. Though, one downside to the reverence is the faint aroma of snobbery now and then. All in all though, it is fun to be living and moving and having breath in a more book oriented, word oriented society. Keep writing.