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I’m writing from 36,000 feet.
I’m somewhere over North Carolina headed for Lexington, Virginia. I’m going there to speak to the cadets at the Virginia Military Institute. I’m not sure what to expect. Not really sure why they asked me. But here I am, on a plane, headed north.
After my talk is over, I’ll drive up to Baltimore for an event with Laura Lippman. Laura’s long been a literary hero of mine. So much so, that when my publicist asked what authors I thought might be willing to co-host an “Ozark Dogs” event, Laura was the first person I thought of.
My publicist laughed.
He didn’t think there was any way Laura Lippman was going to agree to do an event with some young buck on his second book. And, if I’m being honest, I didn’t either.
I’d only met Laura once, virtually, over a year ago. I’d interviewed her, and I think she enjoyed it, but during our talk she also mentioned this neon sign that hangs above her desk. It’s a one-word sign, two glowing letters that spell “NO.”
Laura went on to explain that “NO” was her secret sauce when it came to surviving the publishing industry.
A year ago, I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. A year ago, my first novel hadn’t even come out. I was scraping and clawing for any semblance of publicity I could get.
A lot can change in a year.
The last twelve months have been like going from a garage band to a band with songs on the radio and a cross-country tour. It's hard to turn down a gig. I should attend every event, every speaking engagement, conference, award ceremony, gala, book launch, school visit, etc., etc., etc.
Right?
Wrong.
And here’s why.
Nobody can run that fast forever. A dear friend of mine had a book come out last year, right around the same time as “Don’t Know Tough.” He was invited to a ton of events. He was everywhere, he went to everything, and then he checked himself into the hospital.
His body just shut down. The only answer the doctors could come up with was stress.
I’m not to that point yet (and my buddy has since made a full recovery, by the way). But I have gotten my first taste of “fame.” I’ve seen how intoxicatingly dangerous it can be.
I like to say a writer is the lowest level of rockstar. While that’s true, certain writers are actually pretty high up there on the rockstar spectrum, at least in their respective realms. But there’s a price that comes from any from any form of celebrity, and that price is time.
When you enter the public eye, your time is no longer your own.
For a novelist, this is really risky business.
It takes an inordinate amount of quiet time to draft a manuscript. And if all you’re doing is going around speaking at galas and promoting your book, when will you find the time to write the next one?
You won’t.
Which is exactly why Laura has that neon “NO” hanging above her desk.
In the end, though, the balance is different for everyone. There’s no secret formula for how to protect your time. But now, sadly, my time is up. I’ve got to run. My plane just touched down in Virginia.
Don't Know Tough
In Denton, Arkansas, the fate of the high school football team rests on the shoulders of Billy Lowe, a volatile but talented running back. Billy comes from an extremely troubled home: a trailer park where he is terrorized by his mother’s abusive boyfriend. Billy takes out his anger on the field, but when his savagery crosses a line, he faces suspension.
Without Billy Lowe, the Denton Pirates can kiss their playoff bid goodbye. But the head coach, Trent Powers, who just moved from California with his wife and two children for this job, has more than just his paycheck riding on Billy’s bad behavior. As a born-again Christian, Trent feels a divine calling to save Billy—save him from his circumstances, and save his soul.
Then Billy’s abuser is found murdered in the Lowe family trailer, and all evidence points toward Billy. Now nothing can stop an explosive chain of violence that could tear the whole town apart on the eve of the playoffs. |
Ozark Dogs
In this Southern thriller, two families grapple with the aftermath of a murder in their small Arkansas town.
After his son is convicted of capital murder, Vietnam War veteran Jeremiah Fitzjurls takes over the care of his granddaughter, Joanna, raising her with as much warmth as can be found in an Ozark junkyard outfitted to be an armory. He teaches her how to shoot and fight, but there is not enough training in the world to protect her when the dreaded Ledfords, notorious meth dealers and fanatical white supremacists, come to collect on Joanna as payment for a long-overdue blood debt.
Headed by rancorous patriarch Bunn and smooth-talking, erudite Evail, the Ledfords have never forgotten what the Fitzjurls family did to them, and they will not be satisfied until they have taken an eye for an eye. As they seek revenge, and as Jeremiah desperately searches for his granddaughter, their narratives collide in this immersive story about family and how far some will go to honor, defend—or in some cases, destroy it. |
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• A New Marriage Milestone
• An Invitation to the Party
• Writing from a Thunderstorm
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• Writing from “Jazz Beach"
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• Writing from somewhere between Little Rock and Russellville
• Writing from my back deck
• Writing from the morning of my thirty-fifth year
• Writing on the day of the college football National Championship
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• Writing from 2022
• Writing from the glow of a plastic Christmas tree
• Writing on a rollercoaster of triumph and disaster
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• Writing with Thanksgiving on my mind
• Writing from the crowd before the start of a Shovels & Rope show
• Writing from the depths of a post-book-festival hangover
• Writing from the Ron Robinson Theatre
• Writing to you on Halloween Eve
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• Writing from my office with two darts clenched in my left hand
• Writing from the shade of my favorite tree
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• Writing from a pirate ship
• Writing from the airport
• Writing from the hospital
• I'm writing from the water
• Writing from my wife's Honda Pilot
• Writing from my office |
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