CKR: January 2008

(continued from October-December 2007...)

JANUARY 2008

“CKR” Diary Post No. 27

Thursday, January 3, 2008

I know, I know....you're thinking, "Damn! I was hoping for another P-List post." But aren't you at least a little curious about where I am in the latest book I'm working on? I don't write just "hott" (with two Ts) stuff, you know. I write "real" stuff, too. The kind of stuff you can pick up in hardcover at Barnes & Noble or Amazon.com. And this latest novel, Chasing Kid Rock, is gonna kick some serious literary ass.

First, I need to finish the damn thing...

Chapter 19 is "in the can" and 20 will (cross your fingers, toes, eyes, etc.) be finished today or tomorrow. That leaves 21 through 28. Most of them are written, but in the extreme first draft stage. They're also in third-person (e.g., Ted did this, he went there), and I'm converting the entire manuscript to first-person, so the story's told from Ted's perspective. It's really turning out well (if I say so, myself), and I can't wait to finish it.

My "new and improved" writers' group has read and critiqued Chapters 1-17 so far, and they're not beating me up anywhere near as bad as they were a year ago. In fact, unless they're simply blowing smoke up my ass, they're enjoying it. And I am, too. I even let them in on the end a few weeks ago, so they could help make sure all the pieces fit together (i.e., the sub-plots support the main plot). So far, so good.

Having a "team" of writers look over your stuff has its tearful moments (like when they say, "you're wasting your time with this trash"), but it's also hugely beneficial. As the writer, I see more of the story than they do, but I don't always get it out onto the page; the group makes sure I do. We're not meeting this week, because Joel's in Vegas visiting his girlfriend, and Peter and Tina are under the weather. That would have left just Joe and me since our Aussie buddy, Graeme, can't make the weekly meetings on account of the commute. So Joe and I have our chapters poised for next week.

But I'd prefer staying indoors tonight, anyway. It's in the 40s out there, y'all! And, with the wind chill, it feels like...well, to be honest, it feels fuckin' cold! Laugh all you want. I can take it. I'd like to see YOU bask in 80 degrees on January 1, then wake up to freeze warnings on January 2. I don't have the wardrobe for this.

Anyway... Now that the Pens are nearly caught up to me, I have a new sense of urgency. I'm feeling good about this year, though. Not only did we kick it off with a Mentos-Diet Coke spitting contest between Scott and Casey, we watched Kid Rock and TBT perform shortened versions of "Cowboy" and "So Hott" in Times Square on MTV (he sang again in the studio with Reverend Run), so I'm hoping that's an omen. Regardless, 2008 can't possibly be worse than 2007. Sure, I saw my first novel in print and had a few successful book signings, but my travel schedule sucked the life out of me, then we took in a teenager for 6 weeks, then my mom died, then...let's just say it got worse before it was over.

So, 2008 has promise. I also have a cosmic advantage: The number 8 is my lucky number. (And, if you're worried about my chances being jinxed because I revealed that, it's not news; that question's on at least half those stupid bulletin surveys I fill out.) Consequently, I'm setting some ambitious goals for the new year:

* Finish CKR (duh)
* Write the film treatment
* Write the screenplay
* Get Kid Rock and NASCAR "on board"
* Gather rights for the soundtrack (maybe JJ Grey & MOFRO won't be tough, but Robert Bradley, Nickelback, Hank Jr., AC/DC, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and a few others might be more difficult)
* Sell the paperback rights for Immortal Bonds
* Sell the hardcover and film rights for CKR
* Dust off the manuscript for DeSain and dig in...

Think I can do it? I guess there's only one way to find out.

“CKR” Diary Post No. 28

Thursday, January 31, 2008

Two weeks ago, I got my ass kicked. And, God help me, I'm preparing to throw myself to the wolves again tonight. Please say a prayer for me...

My writers' group will be reading and critiquing Chapter 20 this evening. Hopefully, they won't rip it to shreds like they did Chapter 19. But I don't want them to be gentle. In fact, I told them exactly that when I emailed the file yesterday. If they hold back, they're not doing what I need them to do, which is give me honest feedback. Even when I initially disagree with their suggestions--something that's happened on many, many occasions--I've learned over time that, when they feel particularly strong about something, changes need to be made.

That last ass-kicking also served to knock my ego down a pitch. Up to that point, we'd been flying through chapters, and the majority of their comments were positive ones. They were really getting into the story and enjoying it. Too much of that and, eventually, you start believing your shit really doesn't stink. That's a dangerous place for a writer, or anybody, for that matter. It makes you defensive and inclined to ignore improvements that could elevate your work to something better than what you started with.

And isn't that the point of getting a second (and third and fourth...) opinion?

So, off I'll go tonight with Chapter 20 tucked under my arm. Thankfully, we meet at a location that serves beer and wine, so Charlie will pour me a draft soon after I arrive. That always helps take the edge off. Of course, the second and third glasses don't hurt, either. By the time we get to the actual critiquing part, I'm kinda numb. But don't worry, I order dinner, too, so I'm fit to drive home.

Glancing over previous entries, I noticed it's been a while since I gave you a taste of what's on the pages of this book. So here are a couple samples of the most recent stuff:

CHAPTER CLIP:
Blame it on the weed, the Jack, the light-headed after-effects of vomiting, or just that I was tired as hell and, therefore, prone to hallucinations, but a couple of things became clear for me in that moment: One, my friend Jimmy was living the life I'd always thought I wanted, and Two, my friend Alex would always be an asshole.

CHAPTER CLIP:
[Ted, in response to Alex's suggestion that they consider hunting as a replacement for the Daytona 500 trip] "We might have dissected a lizard or two as bored adolescents," I said, "but I doubt that any one of us could take aim at something that's simply trying to eat, breathe, and fuck its way through life the same way we are. And what would we do with it after we killed it? Eat it? My digestive system has enough trouble processing shit approved by the FDA. I'm certainly not eager to find out how it would react to something I shot in the woods."

Once I'm finished with Chapter 21 (cross your fingers that will be today), I'll have only seven chapters left in the re-write. But don't get too excited (and I say that more for myself than for you), because I still have to go back to Chapter 1 and make sure every change has been made and that the whole thing flows smoothly, front to back, cover to cover. Still, I'm starting to see the light at the end of this damn tunnel. I hope you are, too.

As always, thanks for sharing this ride with me.

(to be continued...)

It Comes With the Job

When I worked as an event coordinator for PGA of America, back in the 90’s, I got my first peek into the world of corporate sponsorship. I used to think it was all about the money. True, profits drive the bottom line, and money does change hands. But, in reality, a sponsor is more like a partner, an entity meant to improve a company's image. And the deals, themselves, are made by people, people with business associates and customers and friends and kids and wives who, for lack of a better way to put it, expect to be entertained. At least fed and housed. If they’re not, chaos ensues. I’ve seen it happen. Sometimes all it takes to soothe them is a bowl of chilled shrimp.

It’s big business these days. Stadiums all over the country are being torn down and resurrected with state-of-the-art sponsor “entertainment” facilities. There was a forerunner in this game, though. They started WAY back and have always proudly worn their sponsors’ hearts (aka logos) on their sleeves – literally. How they treat their fans AND their sponsors impressed me at my first race. Having the opportunity to witness their operations first-hand as a guest for the past three years has been an honor. Of course, I’m referring to NASCAR.

NextEra Energy Resources is the “Official Renewable Energy Provider of the Daytona International Speedway.” As the wife of a NextEra executive, I’m now watching from the other side. But I guess watching’s not really the right word, it feels more like “watched.” Not that I’m unaccustomed (it’s the hat). The gravity of the impression I make when allowed to mingle with the general population didn’t hit me, however, ‘til this year, specifically five minutes before Scott and I left the hotel to catch the shuttle to the NextEra Energy Resources 250. He asked me, “Do you have anything dressier than that to wear?” and I thought, looking down at the faded sneakers, t-shirt, and denim mini-skirt I had on, “Why? This is what I always wear…”

If I may, I’d like to pause and take a moment to publicly apologize to my husband for, well, for being me. At least being “too much” me when good taste and sense dictate otherwise. He’s tried repeatedly to get this message through. I’ve heard it, but have struggled with the follow-through. I imagine a lot of wives would take offense to being asked to change five minutes before departure. But I’m not a typical wife. He’s worked very hard to get where he is, and I’ve worked very hard to make his life easier and not screw things up for him. Now, I realize it’s time to kick it up a notch and make the ultimate sacrifice: go shopping for new clothes. Yipp-friggin-ee. Only for him…

Friday night, I changed into the outfit I’d brought for Sunday’s 500 and, since I haven’t heard different, all went well. Though the bartender we’ve had for the past three years was a little shocked I didn’t take the first Coors Light she offered me (thanks, Bee!), I didn’t drink too much, didn’t laugh too loud, didn’t call (too much) attention to myself, and didn’t embarrass my husband or jeopardize his company’s partnership with the track.

Surprisingly, we still managed to have a great weekend. Friday night’s 250 was fun. One of Scott’s customers was the race’s Grand Marshall. He got to say, “Start your engines,” plus greet all the drivers and ride in the pace car. At Epcot on Saturday, we “entertained” the same customer and his wife by drinking our way around the world. We started in Germany, where Scott couldn’t help himself and had to immediately snap a picture and share his “wienerschnitzel” on Facebook. I had the most incredible shot of tequila in Mexico, complete with chaser! Japan had tasty sake. Since there was no Ireland, I settled for a shot of Jameson’s at the British Rose and Crown. And the beer was good everywhere. I was glad I took pictures of the fireworks. Scott and our guests claim they were amazing.

The 500 was disappointing in that – yet again – the race ended with a green, white, checker finish. Actually TWO of them. And Tony Stewart didn’t win. But I got my name and “GO SMOKE!” on the finish line, stood on the field to watch Brad Paisley, our upper deck seats were awesome, the race was thrilling, and the winner was adorable. In summary, I spent a nice weekend with my husband, he strengthened his customer relationships, his company developed promising contacts, and I made new friends. With all that and free beer, who wouldn’t be entertained? Cheers to Lynn and the crew for putting it together! You needed that Peace River trip! :)

Oh, in case you’re wondering, the kids didn’t burn down the house while we were gone – though the trees around the fire pit look a little charred. And Scott swears the driver’s seat was in a different position when he locked up the truck. Overall, the boy and the teenager did a bang-up job keeping the place running while we were gone. For that, we’re grateful. Things could have been worse – HAVE been worse. As parents, like with marriage and corporate sponsorships, we’ve learned disaster, mingled with occasional bliss, comes with the job.

We’ve also learned to savor the bliss...

CKR: Oct - Dec 2007

(continued from June - September 2007...)

OCTOBER 2007

“CKR” Diary Post No. 26

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Haven't given y'all an update since June, so thought I'd get off my ass and let you know what's going on...

You might remember this whole journey began with a Kid Rock concert. Well, he's back in South Florida again tonight, this time at the Fillmore (aka Jackie Gleason Theater) in Miami's South Beach. Despite being in Oklahoma at the time, Scott and I bought tickets online the morning they went on sale, back in September. We've been looking forward to it ever since. I'll let you know how the evening went next time.

Where I am in the manuscript is exactly where I was before. But the good news is: The Pens (minus a few members) are back on board. They've reviewed up to Chap 8 and, so far, they're loving it! This time through is MUCH BETTER than the last. Some of the chapters need work, but others will require very little polishing. With the change in the tide, it's easier to be optimistic.

As for the "package" that went out a few months ago, there's nothing new to report there, either. But since his new album's come out, I realize he's been locked up in promotion for a while. (I can relate.)

I've also decided I'm not going to try to contact him again until the manuscript's finished. Your guess is as good as mine when that might be. If the "series of unfortunate events" that our household has dealt with for the past several months is any indication of the future, I'll be satisfied if the damn thing gets finished at all.

So, time marches on while CKR awaits my attention. But I'll get there. In the meantime, pick up a copy of ROCK N ROLL JESUS. You won't be disappointed.

Depression: It’s not just for breakfast anymore

Monday, October 22, 2007

Five years ago (more or less), I invited a couple friends over to the house to follow-up the museum staff's annual "Holiday Breakfast" with more serious celebrating. But after two beers, I passed out. And I didn't wake up 'til the following day.

Curious as to why I would "check out" for 24 hours, I visited the doctor's office. She drew blood and asked me to complete a questionnaire. They'd later "lose" the blood, so I never found out if I'd somehow ingested something I shouldn't have, but the questionnaire prompted my doctor to shake her head with concern and utter the words, "Honey, you need to be on medication."

She went on to explain that I was obviously overwhelmed. As a mom, that wasn't news to me. She said it's okay to be the rock for everyone, but sometimes even the rock needs a little help. So, she prescribed Lexapro. I called them my "Sunshine and Rainbows" pills, because all of life seemed to be sunshine and rainbows as long as I was taking them. But I didn't like not feeling anything; the medication not only blocked the despair, it also took away the joy. After three months, I pitched them, and I've taken nothing like them since.

Still, as far as the medical community is concerned, I have a documented history of depression. (Who doesn't think THAT will bite me in the ass one day?) I can't say I'm proud of it, but I'm not ashamed or afraid of it, either. Life has ups and downs, and sometimes the downs are extraordinarily shitty. We've all been there. And, hopefully, we've all developed ways to cope--granted, they might not all be legal; like Tim McGraw says, everybody inevitably turns to either "drugs or Jesus." Unfortunately, knowing HOW to cope doesn't necessarily make the process of digging out of the hole any easier...

Sometime around Christmas last year, I made a promise to myself (and pretty much everyone around me) that I would put my nose to the grindstone and finish CKR, the novel I've been working on since February '06. My son showed up on New Year's Eve, however, and moved back home after a 2-1/2-year absence. Settling him in, helping him create a budget, and working around his job interviews, doctor visits, and totally unreasonable sleep schedule was a challenge. But I was determined; I defined boundaries, established "office" hours, and held firm. In the end, it didn't make any difference, because every day presented another exception. And, with each exception, it became harder and harder to get my head back into the book.

Then in February, my first book was published. I set aside any hopes of working on CKR for a solid two weeks while I went through editing. My nearly 21-year-old son chose that particular period of time to admit to me that he just wasn't interested in getting a job (aka paying his own way, decreasing his mountain of debt, etc.). And he resented the fact that I couldn't be more supportive of his writing and his desire to create video games, especially considering my own career choice. The only thing that kept me from running for the "Sunshine and Rainbows" pills was the night I pounded on him and cried myself to sleep. Apparently, the outburst relieved enough of the pressure. At the time.

March and April were spent learning about book distribution, scheduling signings and appearances, and promoting the first book online. I was also trying to keep up with the blog and had just accepted an offer from CLOSER magazine to be a regular contributing writer and editor. And I was doing it while Scott was away on business about half the time. My gastroenterologist said he didn't know where I was finding the energy, given that I was still recovering from a nasty colitis episode the previous fall. I didn't bother to tell him I was running on adrenalin.

In May, I was consumed with my launch and a reconnection with a blast from the past, which would ultimately test my marriage at its weakest link. Somewhere near the end of the month, we gave our son 30 days to get his shit together or we were kicking him out on his ass.

In June, our 13-year-old began summer vacation--at home, in the house, because everyone else in the neighborhood was away at camp. I was busy sending invitations and notifying newspapers and bookstores in the Pacific Northwest that I was coming in July. By the end of the month, our children were wearing on our last nerve. Scott and I were exhausted. But we'd managed to get our relationship through another hurdle.

On July 1, our son was turned over to the U.S. Army. On July 2, I found a lump in my breast. On July 3, I got a mammogram and, while in the waiting room, met a woman whose son was in the military. When I told her our son had just enlisted, she started weeping..."for me." On July 4, I had the worst Fourth of July in recent memory. On July 5, after I learned that (a) my son had donned the uniform and had started boot camp and (b) the lump was nothing to worry about, I wrote a blog post that would ultimately end an 8-year friendship. On July 9, the only bookstore on PGA Blvd. cancelled my August booksigning--with no explanation. On July 10, my daughter and I flew to Seattle.

The rest of July was a blur.

We spent the first week of August in the Keys, which could have been relaxing, but wasn't. My girlfriend and her kids spent 8 days with us mid-month, which was nice, but tiring. Scott and I are used to spending a lot of time together, so our relationship was feeling the strain again. After my daughter started back to school, I managed to get a week's worth of work in, though most of it was spent catching up on the blog and the magazine, rather than on CKR. Then, in the first week of September, Scott and I drove to Oklahoma for Chris's Basic Training graduation. We finally worked out our separation anxiety and were just getting back to the routine we'd been away from for nearly a year when the phone rang at 1am on Sunday, September 16. An hour later, we found ourselves the proud owners of an additional 14-year-old daughter.

Daughter 2 adjusted well to her new, temporary home and was making progress in school, but it only took a few weeks for her temper to get the best of her. On Wednesday, October 10, I "went under" for the first time in months, taking the phone off the hook to work. Daughter 1 ran home from school around 4:00, stormed up behind me, breathless, and announced that Daughter 2 had been arrested--she'd tried to call earlier, but I wasn't answering the phone.

I tried to call Scott, but got voice mail. I called our local police, but they had no record of the arrest. While I was on the phone with the school, learning there was a 10-day suspension involved, too, a good friend called my cell to say he was in the hospital. Then Scott called. Then Daughter 2's dad called. Somewhere in the midst of all of the commotion, I broke down and started crying. All I want to do is write--why is that so fuckin' hard?!

I picked her up around midnight, and Scott and I accompanied her to juvenile court the next day (which, in itself, was an experience we'd prefer NOT to repeat). The judge was fortunately lenient, considering it was her first offense. On Friday, Scott went back to work, Daughter 1 went off to school, and Daughter 2 and I settled in to figure out how to co-exist in the house while she was on suspension. My first errand that morning was a trip to the principal's office to beg for a reduction in her punishment. He said I'd have to wait 'til the first of the week for an answer.

On Saturday, I took the girls to get haircuts. Within ten minutes, the stylist reported both girls had head lice. Everyone in the salon stared at them (at each of us) with disgust. The girls were humiliated. I spent about $70 on Lysol, lice shampoo, comb-out gel, furniture/upholstery spray, and new brushes, combs, and hair ties to replace the ones we pitched. Everything in the house had to be washed and/or cleaned and/or disinfected. Round one took all weekend. Lucky for Scott, he flew to California early Sunday morning and got the hell out.

On Monday, I printed invitations for my upcoming lecture/signing at the Society of the Four Arts on November 7. It took longer than anticipated, because my laptop wasn't "speaking" to the printer. And the home computer had recently been re-built after it'd crashed two weeks earlier, while Scott was building a new desk, so it was missing the fonts I needed. But I worked through it, and got everything ready for the next day.

On Tuesday, I learned there would be no reduction in Daughter 2's 10-day suspension. I also ran non-stop all day, re-stocking the empty-thanks-to-the-teenagers kitchen and delivering invitations. While out and about, I ran into an old friend and invited him over after he finished work. He spent two hours on my patio making me feel extremely uncomfortable. I'll spare you the details, but the experience shook me up. I didn't want to bother Scott with it while he was out of town, so I slept very uneasily that night.

On Wednesday, I followed-up with the courts to learn the status of both Daughter 2's case and the case that was pending against her mother. I was relieved to learn we'd been assigned a "Child Court" date the following week, but I was alarmed to discover the charges against Daughter 2's mom had been dropped. I also spent time talking to the girls about what had happened the previous night--they'd noticed something was wrong. We spent the rest of the evening on Round 2 of lice removal (meaning their heads, bedding, and "living environment" had to be treated again). I managed to crawl into bed around midnight, right around the same time Scott learned a cancelled flight wasn't going to let him get any closer to home that night than Atlanta.

On Thursday, Scott was home long enough to change clothes and go to work. He came back at 3:00, though, so we had time to get ready and drive to the Kid Rock concert in Miami Beach. Through the magazine, I'd scored us admission and VIP access to the after-party, so we were psyched. I can't remember the last time I'd looked forward to something that much. The girls stayed at friends' houses (the friends knew about the lice, plus we'd treated them for the second time the previous night), and Scott and I took off for Miami. The concert was great--small venue, good seats--but we were denied access to the after-party because Scott was wearing shorts. Both of us were crushed. Scott felt guilty. I drove home in a fog, wondering when, if ever, we'd catch a break.

On Friday, Daughter 2 went out with friends while Daughter 1 proceeded to forget to come home...or even CALL home. She'd also neglected to tell us she'd moved from one friend's house to another friend's house. Despite requiring Daughter 2 to find a ride home, so we didn't have to drive after 10pm (something I find myself doing more often than not), we still found ourselves faced with having to drive after 10pm to pick up Daughter 1. As I said, that's usually me. But I refused. Scott wasn't happy, but I think he realized I was perched on the brink of "losing it." So he grudgingly played along.

On Saturday, my body gave out. Every muscle and joint ached. Scott "grounded me" to the couch. The first half of the 3rd season of House kept us occupied. But I could feel myself slipping.

On Sunday--yesterday--we did laundry and de-loused the girls and the premises for a third time. I wasn't talkative. I was, in fact, preoccupied with the feeling of being utterly and wholly helpless. My life wasn't mine, hadn't been for more days (weeks, months) than I wanted to count. I wanted to write, to get all this out of my head like I've done so many times before, but Scott had my laptop all day (it's been sluggish, so he's working out the kinks for me because I don't know how). I tried the paper and pen approach, but I could barely read my handwriting. I'd start to cry and the girls would appear, so I'd leave the room. I tried going upstairs a few times, to cry or scream it out, but Scott seemed to follow me. The harder I tried to combat the feelings of being trapped and at the mercy of someone/something else, the more frustrating it got. Until I crawled into bed last night, surrendered, and just went limp.

Yes, I'm depressed. But I think I've earned it. No one--not even me--can be "on" 24/7, 365. Especially when faced with repeated rounds of bullshit, shot in rapid succession. And, as far as I can tell, these cycles of depression aren't any different than the hormonal cycles that influence my sex drive and make me bleed every 28 days. They're part of life. As difficult and uncomfortable as it is, I'd rather experience this than dull my emotions with a prescription--of course, don't think I'm not dulling them with something else (go ahead, call me a hypocrite, I won't feel a thing).

If history's a decent indicator of what happens next, I figure I'll eventually learn something from this. In the meantime, I'll be struggling to focus as I address each of the issues, individually, that have combined to weigh me down--thinking of them all at once only serves to make the situation that much more overwhelming. I chose to start here, on the blog, because (a) I got my computer back, so I can, and (b) writing to you is cathartic. Plus, I'm not only putting my thoughts into words, I'm giving you a heads-up as to why I've not been blogging so much. (All you long-time readers, feel free to add this to the list of unending excuses I seem to come up with...)

Why I'd be driven so hard to write a book I didn't want to write in the first place only to be met with a seemingly non-stop parade of distractions that keep me from finishing the damn thing is beyond my comprehension. But that's where I'm at with CKR. I've had to adopt an "I'll get there when I get there" approach to keep from (almost literally) losing my mind. I WILL get there, though. And I'll get through "the blues" thing, too. Always have. It's a setback, not the end of the world. I'll be back and cranking out the wit and fuckin' wisdom better than ever before you know it.

It just won't be today.

NOVEMBER and DECEMBER 2007

No entries were posted these months.

(to be continued...)

CKR: Jun - Sep 2007

(continued from April - May 2007...)

JUNE 2007

“CKR” Diary Post No. 23

Wednesday, June 6, 2007

I'm not quite ready to share the whole *master plan* yet, but I've recently stumbled onto an interesting and possibly major marketing idea for this book. (I'll thank Scott when the time comes--can't take all the credit.) Details will reveal themselves over time, right here on the blog, so get on the P-List to make sure you don't miss anything. I thought I'd give you a heads-up, so you were on the alert. I'm also curious to find out who picks up on it first. This is going to be fun ...

Chapter 17 is sitting on my laptop as we speak, ready and waiting to be crafted. After that, I'll have only 11 chapters remaining in the re-write (which I'll be working on this week and next). June 15 is coming up fast, and it's possible I won't be completely finished by my self-imposed deadline. But the good news is: Whether the manuscript is finished or not, the "package" is still going to Detroit next week. Those of you who know what that means should feel free to start shaking about now. I certainly am. The success of CKR and its auxiliary projects depend on the response and amount of support I get from the man whose name is on the cover. There's no way to tell, of course, how long it will take to get an answer. It could come quickly, or it could take weeks (months). Rest assured, you will be among the first to hear the news when it arrives.

In the meantime, I'm busy scheduling and preparing for my "book tour" (damn, that sounds funny!) to promote IB. I'm also scurrying to get review copies to reviewers, press releases to newspapers, event invitations to guests, and letters to select book stores, begging them to put the book on their shelves. It's a frustrating task to get a book into stores, especially when your publisher is small and marketing is 99.9% in the hands of the author. There are over 2,000 new books a month that booksellers have to choose from when purchasing stock. If they think the book will sell, they'll buy a few copies. If they've never heard of you (or your book or your blog or your MySpace profile), you're not even a blip on their radar screen.

See why I'm so eager for support from Detroit?

But I'm not discouraged, by any means. Life is good. Better than good, really. And it gets a little better every day. I have YOU to thank for a big portion of that, so I hope you know how much you're appreciated. I'm not a household name (yet), but I'm a whole lot closer to it today than I was a year ago. Without you, I'd still be sitting home at my computer, working in a vacuum, and wondering what the hell to do with myself.

You ALL continue to rock.

“CKR” Diary Post No. 24

Friday, June 15, 2007

Not since the early days, when the idea for this book wouldn't let me sleep, have I felt a fire under my ass quite like this one. But sending material to Detroit can do that, I suppose. And, now that it's done, I'll tell you more about it.

The package that went to Rock's manager contained a letter, a brief (1-page) synopsis of CKR, the first three chapters of the manuscript, selected excerpts from this Diary, the first four installments of "GeTtiNg iT" (yes, there are 4--I'm posting one immediately after I post this), and an audio recording of Chapter 6 (aka the strip club scene), that a very dear friend (Josh) recorded for me. I also tossed in my first two issues of CLOSER magazine and a copy of my novel, just so they know I'm legit and not a psycho groupie. (Okay, maybe a little, but we all know the "legit" part's true.)

The whole kit and kaboodle will go out today or Monday--FedEx--from an attorney, not me, which I'm hoping will increase the odds of making contact. We're asking for permission to use Rock's name in the title and to quote lyrics in one of the chapters. But, more importantly, we'd like to discuss collaboration; without it, I simply don't have the contacts to take CKR where it needs to go.

So, the balls are rolling! And I'm under the gun to polish-off the remaining 10 chapters. (Chapter 19 is calling me as we speak.) I have NO idea how long it will take to get an answer, if we get one at all, but the possibility exists that someone could request the entire manuscript as early as next week. Of course, I'll be out of town and unable to write this weekend, just to make sure the PRESSURE's really on.

Don't you hate when that happens?

“CKR” Diary Post No. 25, or Are You “GeTtiNg iT”?

Monday, June 25, 2007

First a couple updates, then I'll let a major cat out of the bag...

* God willing and the creeks don't rise, I'm hoping CKR will be finished this week....well, the first "final" draft of the manuscript, anyway. I'm down to nine (that's 9!) chapters in the re-write. Some of them are in need of major overhauls, but the basic story is there, so it's a matter of expanding and polishing. Wish me luck!

* We haven't heard anything, yet, about the "package" that was sent last week. But I expect it will take some time. If we haven't gotten a response after a few weeks, I'll have Tom follow-up. (You know I'll keep you posted.)

Now, for the "cat" ...

Several of you have been following both the CKR Diaries and the new blog series, GeTtiNg iT. I've been intentionally vague with Gi (say the letters, “gee-eye”), but, out of curiosity, I was wondering if any of you had noticed the similarities? And, yes, there are most definitely similarities.

With yesterday's post of GI-5, I feel it's probably a good time to let you in on the secret that the three main characters in Chasing Kid Rock and GeTtiNg iT are the same. I'm screwing a bit with the space-time continuum, having placed the Ted, Alex, and Jimmy of 20-ish years ago into present-day Florida, but the exercise is doing exactly what I'd hoped it would: Give me, as the writer, a more intimate glimpse into the thought processes of the characters.

In CKR, Ted is a 40-year-old talk radio program writer/producer/on-air personality who's faced with divorce. In Gi, he's in his 20s and struggling with the dating scene. While writing the novel, I'm constantly asking myself questions about Ted and his friends, Alex and Jimmy, and their relationships--both with "outsiders" and one another. With Gi, I have the ability to dive into each one of the characters' heads, individually, to study their motivations. I can't do that in CKR, because the entire novel is told from Ted's point of view. Going about it the way I am, with weekly posts to the blog, I'm creating a full-length backstory--it's like writing the prequel to CKR, "live" and "off the cuff," one blog post at a time.

The current plan is to carry on with Gi through February, maybe March. I have a pretty good idea of where it's going, and how it will end, but I'm only traveling with a rough outline. To make things even more interesting (i.e., complicated for me), I'm also tying some of the storylines in with pieces I write for CLOSER magazine's "SexEd" column. The next issue contains my third article, "The Lost Art of Seduction." Once it's distributed and available to the public, I'm planning a seduction scene that oughtta get ALL of us cranked up.

So that's what I'm doing these days--working hard to suck you in. Books neither write themselves nor promote themselves, and both present their own sets of challenges. But sometimes you can kill two (or three or four) birds with one stone. Or, I suppose I should say, one keyboard.

JULY, AUGUST, and SEPTEMBER 2007

No entries were posted these months.

(to be continued....)

CKR: April - May 2007

(continued from February-March 2007...)

APRIL 2007

No entries were posted this month.

MAY 2007

"CKR” Diary Post No. 21, or “Dig” and pass it on

Monday, May 7, 2007

As you might have guessed (and damn if this isn't starting to sound like a broken record), I've made no significant progress on the manuscript since the last post. Among other things, marketing the book and preparing for my first booksigning on the 18th have taken distraction to new heights. But it feels great to be busy. And I haven't stopped imagining dialogue and narrative for CKR; the story is prominently perched on the top of my head, and I expect it will stay there until it's all over.

But lately, I've been giving just a little bit more thought to the screenplay than the novel. (You knew that was coming, right?) Especially at the end, where the story climaxes and the theme hits home.

The final scene of the movie will be slightly different than the book, but that's the way it goes. (Now that I've thrown myself into the process, I understand why.) Fortunately, the message will be the same, and I think it's a pretty good one. Maybe even the best one. Which means the music accompanying the scene has to be specific, yet still universal and emotionally powerful. That's a tall order.

It's been a long time since I heard a song that fit a moment so perfectly. But the song I added to my profile is all that, PLUS a bag of chips, an order of fries, an iced coffee, and a marbled chocolate cheesecake...from Copeland's Bistro in New Orleans.

I didn't upload it to the blog, because I didn't want you to be distracted from the words on the screen. So I'll ask you--make that BEG you--to look it up when you get a few minutes and listen to Incubus' Dig. Please. Or, if you'd prefer something visual, watch the video. Then consider adding the song to YOUR playlist, and pass it on.

Too few of us recognize the importance of unconditional love and acceptance. This life is all we have, people! These friends, these times, these words are IT. Are you hearing me?!

You won't be passing this way again.

We build too many walls. Impose too many conditions. Why must there be constant judgment? Constant fear? Constant hate? Constant war? Why can't we accept that we are ALL both gifted and faulted? We ALL have beauty. We ALL have pain. We ALL have something that digs at us.

Why can't we just dig each other ... and pass it on?

“CKR” Diary Post No. 22

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Fifteen down, thirteen to go! Yup, I'm over half-way through the re-write, and I'm LOVING every word of this thing. A first-person perspective has made such a difference! Randy, if you're out there, my friend--THANK YOU! for prodding me to do this and for giving me High Fidelity by Nick Hornby so I'd understand what you meant.

But, don't worry, I'm not just going to tell you about it. I brought some stuff to share:

CHAPTER CLIP:
After a farewell that wasn't so much a goodbye as it was a tentative wave as I fled, I took a cab from the restaurant parking lot back to the hotel. I'd thought it curious that no one followed me out, although it was fine because I hadn't left to get attention. That was a chick thing. But, at the same time, and because it was a chick thing, I'd expected Micah to chase me. At least to ask where I was going or if I was coming back. When she didn't, I was not only disappointed, I felt like a first-class tool.

CHAPTER CLIP:
My tongue cramped once, but I worked through it. And, as it turned out, I hadn't forgotten a thing. / Score one for Ted.

CHAPTER CLIP:
...the roar of the crowd was drowned-out by the thunderous engines as the cars sped by in a blur. / "There's nothin' like that sound," Alex hollered once the rumble subsided. / "You said it," Jimmy agreed. "I don't know about you guys, but it's why I keep coming back." / And with my friend's admission, I suddenly understood. / The annual Drunkfest to Daytona, as Kate had called it, had started as a way for three teenagers to escape the watchful eyes of their parents. Granted, my interests twenty-three years ago were limited to scoring pussy and getting high to Van Halen. But add being the son of a well-to-do businessman (at the time) and it seemed obvious to me that I wouldn't fit in with a group of people known for their love of country music, trucker movies, Burt Reynolds, and Skoal. Since then, my knowledge of racing hadn't progressed far beyond the Beeline Highway and Mom's old Datsun hatchback, but I'd learned I wasn't as different from the tribe of NASCAR as I'd originally thought. Because, from the first lap of our first race, the unexpected power of the combined engines racing 'round the track overwhelmed and hooked us. There truly was no sound—no vibration, no feeling—like it anywhere and, over the next few hours, we'd only hear it one hundred and ninety-nine more times.

As you might have guessed, I've tried to put as much of my Daytona experiences into the chapters set at the 500. But you won't have to be a race fan to appreciate the scenes and the trouble Ted runs into while trying to enjoy his weekend.

I can't tell you how GOOD it feels to be not only working on this book again, but flying through it. As we speak, Chapter 16 is open and sitting on my desktop, waiting for me to dive in. (You might recall I just started on Chapter 11 yesterday morning.) It's been months since I read these chapters, and I'm honestly surprised at the small amount of tweaking I've needed to switch them from third-person to first. Maybe I'll make my self-imposed June 11 deadline after all?

I'm working one more day on the book this week (Thursday), then I'll be changing hats from writer to event planner-slash-speaker to prep for Friday's book launch and signing. But I'm trying not to think about it too much. When I do, I get nervous, which is why I chose this week to focus on CKR again--it's kept my mind off the big event. Sneaky, huh? And you thought I was just jonesing to write again.

Well, there's that, too.

I have no idea if I'll be able to post anything else on the blog this week, but I'll do what I can. Deadline for CLOSER #45 is looming--I think I'm down to 3 days!--and my house looks like my kids have been in charge (which they have), so there are a few things waving red flags for my attention. You guys should know, though, that you hover at the top of my To-Do list every day. I might not get here as often as I used to, but you're in my thoughts always. This has been a phenomenal ride, and few things give me more pleasure than sharing it with you.

P.S. Don't bother listing the "few things" that give me more pleasure...I'm sure we all know what they are.

(to be continued...)

CKR: Feb - Mar 2007

(continued from January 2007...)

FEBRUARY 2007

“CKR” Diary Post No. 18

February 7, 2007

AAAAaaaaaaaaaaa!!

Phew. I feel much better now. Well, not really.

Writing a novel has GOT to be one of the most frustrating, sadistic, soul-sucking things a person could do to themselves. I understand now why Thoreau hid in the woods. If the world and the people in it would just stop and let me write, I might actually finish this fuckin' thing and maybe THEN I wouldn't mind having car trouble and letting my daughter's friends spend the night on a school night because her dad's out of town and desperate. Maybe THEN I wouldn't care that my oldest has moved back into the house, doubling the grocery bill, destroying our spare bedroom, and sending my anxiety level through the roof because he doesn't understand why he can't keep porn in the bathroom or say "Fuck" around his little sister or play his guitar on the patio at 10:00 on a week night.

My car was ready for two days before I heard the news, because whoever took the message never passed it on. It then took me a week to get it, because, although I make myself available for everyone else, no one seems to be able to make time for me. My best friend and my brother and my mother and my mother-in-law and a few other friends and family members continue to call me CONSTANTLY during the week to ask "Whatcha doing?" then proceed to talk about NOTHING!! There's no food in the house (because I haven't had a car), so my daughter hides on the patio and eats ice cream for breakfast. My son, who drudgingly walks to work every day because he can't understand why he has to have a job, "helps" around the house by cooking for himself (using a fork on a Teflon pan, then tossing everything in the sink) and doing his own laundry (half the time without soap--the other day, he washed a king-sized comforter, sheets, pillow cases, and a priceless, handmade throw from Bangladesh ALL TOGETHER with the water level set on "low").

So the progress of CKR is suffering. Again. It seems that every time I start to gain momentum, some outside force jumps in and steals it. It’s a constant barrage of bad timing, bad luck, and circumstances beyond my control (like Robert Sarmast’s search for Atlantis—www.discoveryofatlantis.com—you can have the best plan, the best crew, and the best equipment, but you can’t control the weather or glitches in technology).

Finding (making) time to write is a daily battle. I could list a million reasons to throw in the towel and just give up. It would certainly be a whole helluva lot easier than swimming against the current. But it’s impossible to sell a book that doesn’t exist and—as I’ve said before—it won’t write itself. So I buckle down, hunch over my laptop in my bedroom, and write as much as I can, telling myself that even a paragraph a day is better than nothing at all. It’s just so bloody difficult to concentrate while everything around me demands attention.

All you writers out there, take note: This isn’t a cake walk. It’s hard. It’s VERY hard. Especially if you have a job or a family or a household or all of the above. I’ve been under the impression for a year that Book 2 would be easier than Book 1, but it’s not. I haven’t been interrupted by three hurricanes this time, but the interruptions I DO have are no less disruptive and I’m still forced to overcome one thing after another in order to finish the project I started. But I WILL overcome them. I WILL finish this book. Maybe not as soon as I’d hoped, but it WILL happen. One way or another. All the things happening around me are just a part of life and they’re not going away any time soon.

Maybe I should hide in the woods?

“CKR” Diary Post No. 19

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Since my glass was half empty with that last CKR post, let's see if I can't make it half full with this one:

I'm nearly finished with Chapter 10. By the end of the week, I expect to get through AT LEAST Chapter 11. Not the bullet-speed progress I'd hoped for, but progress, nonetheless. That'll bring me well past the 1/3 mark. The sex scenes are coming up, too, so I get to dig in to some “good” stuff.

So the final draft of Chasing Kid Rock is closer to completion this week than it was last week. That's something to cheer about under the circumstances. Stay tuned for more updates ... Shit! I almost forgot--here's an excerpt from today's chapter (and it's a "special" one, for those of you were wondering if my novels are anything like my blog posts):

CHAPTER CLIP:
Taking a firmer, more purposeful grasp of my hard-on, I thought about what our encounter might have been like if I … hadn't run off sulking …had found the balls to do her. She'd wanted me to. That was obvious. She was practically begging for it in the car. All I had to do was invite her inside and I could have had my way with her. Could have had ANY way with her. My dick twitched at the thought, so I pumped a little faster and tossed the sheet and comforter off to one side. Taking a brief, almost out-of-body glimpse at the masturbation scene unfolding before me, I didn't imagine it too far-fetched that I could hit the armoire with the load I was building up to.

MARCH 2007

“CKR” Diary Post No. 20

Friday, March 23, 2007

It's been over a month since I posted a Diary entry, but I probably don't have to tell you CKR has once again taken a back seat to other projects. But this time the interruption has been a good thing. Of course, I'm referring to the book that just came out. You know--the book. The one that's available on amazon.com, bn.com (Barnes & Noble), archebooks.com, or through your local bookstore. Ask if you don't know what the hell I'm talking about. Otherwise, I'll assume you know and get back to CKR...

...which hasn't been causing sleepless nights like it used to. But the drive to finish it is ever-present, and I'm working on setting aside a significant portion of April to try and wrap it up. The problem is timing; with my debut novel out there now, promotion has become a priority. In the meantime, I'm "supposed" to be posting 2-3 blog entries a week (my goal, not anyone else's), plus I've agreed to proofread and regularly contribute to CLOSER magazine, a publication that reaches a fair amount of people in South Florida.

With book signings on the horizon, I need to prepare and mail press releases and query letters for articles and interviews; schedule appearance dates; arrange transportation; order materials and supplies, like a card table, an easel, and book-themed pencils and pens; find someone who can design camera-ready artwork for promotional materials, THEN order the promotional materials; outline a presentation; design, print, and distribute flyers for posting prior to appearances; and a shit load of other things I'd have to think too hard to remember at the moment.

So CKR is (again) suffering from lack of attention. I remind myself that neither my publisher nor my agent knows this book exists and, therefore, I have no hard deadline for finishing it. But that's no comfort. It's quite possible, too, that I'll have a second book out later this year, because The Bloody Pens' Anthology is near completion and we've got a verbal okay to publish it. But even that doesn't take the internal pressure off.

This story--Ted's story--needs to be told. The message needs to be out there. I'm optimistically pressing on, but it's hard to be patient when you believe to your core that you're sitting on something good. Really good. Something that entertains NASCAR fans, rock 'n' roll fans, talk radio fans, Democrats, Republicans, and Kid Rock, all at the same time. Something that has the potential to spark an interest in people who don't read to pick up a book. Something that elevates literature to the level of porn. (Or maybe that's the other way around?) Something that might--my fingers are crossed--make married couples think about what it really means to be married and dedicated ... and faithful.

How does one sit comfortably on something like that? Anyone have suggestions?

(to be continued...)

CKR: January 2007

(continued from November-December 2006...)

JANUARY 2007

“CKR” Diary Post No. 15

January 11, 2007
I worked last night as late as I dared (about 11:00), but didn’t quite finish Chapter 2. So this morning, I knocked that out of the way first, then went on to re-write Chapters 3 and 4. The transition from third-person to first-person isn’t taking near the time I thought it would, but I have a feeling the task will get more difficult after Chapter 10. That’s as far as I got on the original re-writes. Everything from Chapter 11 on is a stone cold first draft.

Because you’re so good to me, here’s an excerpt from Chapter 2:

CHAPTER CLIP:

Thinking about marriage and trysts and the friends that stick around through both, I maneuvered the lamp-lit streets with one hand on the wheel and the other hanging out the window, clutching a Marlboro. In the back seat, a package slid with every turn and I wondered how many more days of listening to the box in the plastic bag slide back and forth I’d have to subject myself to before I finally remembered to take it out of the car.

The drive I had almost a year ago—WOW, time flies—isn’t nearly as obnoxious as it was when this story first took up residence in my head. But it is still, most assuredly, right here with me. Once the entire first draft was finished, my focus changed from getting the story down to tightening it up. It has to be flawless in style, pacing, consistency, format, and every other literary detail before I even THINK about looking for an agent to help me sell it to a publisher. Without a built-in audience, no one in this business will take on an author who’s planning on finishing their manuscript soon, in the near future…maybe. Agents and publishers want a book, a completed book, so they can sell it and make money. Hopefully lots of money. Otherwise, why would they assume the risks and the costs of printing and promotion?

The plan for tomorrow (Friday) is to finish Chapter 5 and start (maybe finish) Chapter 6. At this rate, if I’m able to dedicate at least three days a week to this book, I shouldn’t have any problem finishing it by the end of February. But I’m not rushing. As eager as I am to start shopping CKR around, I’d like for this to be my last re-write—for real!—so I’d rather take the time I need to get it right. Bottom line is: There’s a lot of good competition out there. If I want my manuscript to find its way through thousands and thousands of other submissions to the top of the pile, I’ve got to knock publishing’s socks off.

I love the smell of pressure in the morning.

“CKR” Diary Post No. 16

January 18, 2007
Some days you feel like writing and some days you don’t. As a writer working on novel number two, I’m learning I can’t always rely on inspiration to get me started. Sometimes, I need a jump-start. Take yesterday, for example: I had the house to myself nearly all day for the first time in three weeks. I should have been more productive THAT day than any other day, but I just wasn’t motivated. I wasn’t feeling all that well, either, so I had a justifiable excuse to lay on the couch and watch HBO. But I HAD TO get work done—like I’ve said before, this book won’t write itself—so I forced myself to sit down and read through the chapter I was working on until the spark of inspiration struck. It took about an hour. But I persisted and it paid off. I even managed to finish the chapter before my daughter got home from school. That’s always a bonus. (All you writers out there should take note: Excuses NOT to write are plentiful; your job as an aspiring author is to find the excuses TO write, or you’ll never be successful.)

So I wrapped-up the Chapter 5 third-person to first-person conversion yesterday. (If that confused you, please ask me to explain.) About twenty-five more days like yesterday and I’ll have this one “in the can.” Don’t laugh. It could happen. (Right.) Since it’s become something of a tradition here in the Diary to share a piece of the most recent completed chapter, and because so many of you have enjoyed these little glimpses, here’s an excerpt of Chapter 5:

CHAPTER CLIP:

[Ted and the guys have just pulled off the Turnpike to stop at a service plaza.] Looking ahead at the squared, masonry structure that housed restrooms, fast food, faster food, and frozen treats (if the vending machine was working), I suppressed the urge to pee so I wouldn’t have to go in there. But it wasn’t the bathroom I hoped to avoid. It was the smell of deep-fried take-out. And not because it made me ill, but because I knew I’d want some, and I was high and broke. Not a good combination in the best of circumstances, and straight lunacy in the presence of nachos, french fries, and ice cream sandwiches made with chocolate chunk cookies and multi-colored, imbedded M&Ms.

The most obvious difference I’ve noticed between the first draft and this final re-write is that I’ve become so much more familiar with Ted and his wife and his friends. I can see them perfectly in my mind. Even their thoughts and mannerisms and histories are clear now. It makes for much easier writing, I’ve gotta tell ya’. Now that they’re walking and talking, all I have to do is put them in a scene and type as fast as I can to keep up. And I can’t wait to dig into the next chapter (6), it’s one of my favorites. Set at a strip club, it’s the first time Jimmy’s “problem” rears its ugly head. It’s also the first time Ted’s imagination wanders from Kate to another woman. This is gonna be fun!

I’ll be back once I’ve made significant progress … ‘til then, and as always, thanks for sharing the ride.

“CKR” Diary Post No. 17

January 23, 2007
Moving right along … I finished Chapter 6 yesterday and will be on to Chapters 7 and 8 later this week. I’d like nothing more than to clear everything off my schedule and just write, write, write ‘til this is done, but nuisances like laundry, housework, doctor appointments, and my family keep getting in the way. Can you believe my husband and kids expect to eat every day?! I just went grocery shopping last week and now I’ve gotta turn around and do it AGAIN this week! Will the responsibilities never end?!

But there are lights at the end of the tunnel. Sort of. Well, not really. The tunnel just got longer, is all. Those of you who’ve been following this story for a while might remember my mentioning a while back that I have a good friend who’s the Executive Editor of a South Florida magazine. The mag went on hiatus for a bit, but they’re back with a vengeance and I’ve been asked to contribute, possibly on a regular basis. It’s a good thing and a great opportunity, considering circulation hovers around 20,000 and the market is 25-to-35-year-olds who are into art, fashion, music, and South Florida nightlife, which is a perfect place to start hyping my books. But I’m struggling to come up with a decent platform. On what issue can I speak with any authority? Especially if the audience is comprised mostly of single, hip, fashionable, artsy-types who are into dating and sushi? I’m kinda at a loss. Maybe you guys can come up with something?

In the meantime, I’ll keep thinking-up blog ideas and plugging away at CKR. Oh, and I almost forgot … here’s an excerpt from Chapter 6 (the strip club scene):

CHAPTER CLIP:

Jimmy answered, but I tuned out what he was saying in favor of listening to the club’s PA system as the last strains of BTO’s Takin’ Care of Business transitioned into a chant I recognized instantly as the Kid Rock song Alex had brutally misquoted earlier. But that wasn’t entirely true. The chorus of Bawitdaba was, indeed, playing, but it was only the introduction of another song, the live version, in fact, of one of Kate’s favorite songs. Should I have taken it as a sign to leave? Maybe I should have.

Thanks again, y’all, for taking the “lonely” part out of the lonely writer’s life. I’ll be back, as always, once I’ve made more progress.

(to be continued...)