The last two years have been the most tumultuous of times
for me, though much of it has merely been in my head. Life hasn't been all that bad lately, though
I've felt depressed and unfulfilled. So
recently I started reflecting on my existence, and seeking to answer that
ever-present question, why am I so miserable?
The answer, as it turns out, is as simple as it is complex.
I am a writer.
The last two years, I haven't written anything. As my marriage began to fall apart, I lost
interest in my fiction, and stopped writing altogether, but that's the one
thing that truly empowers me. It is my
God-given talent, one that I have viewed as both a blessing and a curse. I am a writer, and I cannot live without that
distinction.
This answer should have come to me sooner, and maybe it did,
but I ignored it. I wanted to escape my
destiny, and forsake my gift. I blamed
my "obsession" with writing for the destruction of my marriage, and
then I found my free time depleted, having to raise 4 kids without a wife. So, I forgot myself, and abandoned the only
thing that I ever wanted to be.
There were times in the past that I almost gave up on my
writing. Back in 2006, I was ready to
call it quits, but the next year rolled around and I got Virtual Wiles
published (albeit by what turned out to be one of the world's worst publishing
outfits). After that, I discovered
"self-publishing," and released Prisoner of Time and The Rogue Investigations, which I still wish would sell more, as they're really fantastic
works. Then The Guns of Mars made
semi-finalist in the second Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest, which led
to its publication by Pill Hill Press a year later. Everything was on the up and up, and when Hall Brothers Entertainment asked me to write a full-length novel based on my Dwarf at High
Noon short story, I was on top of my game, feeling I was finally on the brink
of being a professional writer. I threw down West of the Warlock, and it impressed them so much that I was
contracted to write 2 more books in the series, which I did.
Then, things slid downhill again.
First, Pill Hill Press closed up shop, leaving the Guns of
Mars out of print. GOM hadn't sold that
well, despite solid reviews, and PHP's closure put it to rest for a time (I
later republished it under my own company, but little attention has been paid
to it). I thank Jessy Marie
Roberts for running Pill Hill Press and releasing the Guns of Mars, and I hope that
someday she (and her husband, Alva Roberts) get back in the greater publishing
industry, as they're both talented writers.
While that was a disappointing blow to my career, the worst
had to be the subsequent closure of Hall Brothers Entertainment, less than a
month later. Right before the second
West of the Warlock novel, The Curse of Selwood, was due to be released, HBE
shut down, and I found myself with nothing in print outside of my
self-published books.
In response to these publishers closing, I fought back by
starting my own small press, Martinus Publishing. The final impetus for my starting this press
was the fact that I had a multi-author anthology in the works. With the success of West of the Warlock, I'd
decided to expand a little, and came up with the idea of assembling and editing
a "time travel anthology." My
proofreading skills were quite good, and I had a vision, so I pitched the idea
of this collection to the Hall Brothers, who were supportive and excited about
it. I had half of the stories for TheTemporal Element accepted for publication when HBE closed shop, and rather than
disappoint the contributors and abandon my project, I pressed forward under my
own banner.
Becoming the editor of a small press had its rewards and its
hardships. At first, it was all fun and
exciting. I got to release stories from
fellow authors that I really enjoyed, and I could release my own works under
the auspices of a small publisher, rather than have them be blatantly
self-published. Yet, it was so much fun
that I overloaded myself. I came up with
numerous anthology ideas and took in overwhelming numbers of submissions that
took up much of my free time, leaving me little time for any writing of my own.
When I announced my plans to start Martinus Publishing, A.C.
Hall gave me some great advice. He told
me I could either be a great writer or a great editor, but it would be hard to
be both. I knew he was right, but at the
time I felt I had no choice. My books
had largely been commercial flops, and with nothing left in print I felt that I
had failed as a writer. I decided that I
could serve better as an editor, and perhaps find success there.
A year went by, and Martinus Publishing had limited success
with its first couple of anthologies.
Overall, it was breaking even, and I felt satisfied, even as my writing continued
to dwindle. I threw together a novel
during National Novel Writing Month in November 2013, but after that it was all
bits and pieces, and revisions to previous works. 3 years ago, that's the last time I truly
wrote any significant fiction.
Spring of 2014 saw the release of Altered America, and it
outperformed my wildest expectations. It
was a hit for Martinus Publishing, until nitpickers and critics threw it
negative reviews. I still consider it a
success, even if it wasn't what half the reviewers wanted it to be.
From there, everything was a downward slide. Subsequent Martinus Publishing releases were
met with poor sales, and as my personal life became more turbulent I found
it difficult to keep up with my editing responsibilities, let alone get any
writing done. By the time my marriage
ended in early 2015, I was ready to give up.
I would have shut down Martinus Publishing, but I refused to disappoint
my fellow writers. I didn't want them to
feel the way I felt when Pill Hill Press and Hall Brothers Entertainment
closed. I didn't want to let them down,
and see their dreams of publication diminished.
And deep down, I knew I'd be sorry, too.
I'd be admitting failure again, and affirming it by shutting up shop.
I'm just too stubborn to know when to quit.
This past year was difficult for me, as I struggled to find
meaning to it all. People tend to say that
my kids ought to be enough, that they are the purpose I should be living
for. I feel guilty, sometimes ashamed, to say
that that doesn't work for me. As much
as I love my kids, and as much as I'll do anything for them, they just aren't
enough to give my life meaning. I have
been selfless and sacrificed so much lately that it has brought me to mental
misery. I cannot go on denying myself.
A few days ago, I wrote a blog post, reflecting on my
existence, and for the first time I felt alive again. After that, I wrote more, starting
with some personal ruminations that may or may not see the light of day
sometime, and then I began looking back over some of my past projects, seeking
to rekindle the creative fires. At long
last, I am creeping out of depression and feeling like I have a purpose again,
that I can move forward and I have something to look forward to. For the first time in years, I have hope, and
all it took was for me to wake up and realize the truth, a simple truth that I
had abandoned.
I am a writer.
This isn't a choice for me, and it isn't some paltry
dream. It is all that I am. When I don't write, I hurt. I fall into despair, and lose sight of
everything. I stop caring, and nothing
is interesting. When I am not writing, I
am nothing and nobody. I am simply
existing, and that is a very bad thing, indeed.
So, what does this revelation mean for the future? It means that I have to reset my priorities,
and do what is right for me, something I haven't done in a long time. I need to find the time to write, and I need
to find more ways to promote my published works. I have to try again, which is all anyone can
ever do.
I can't promise I'll succeed, and I know when I have
commercial flops and rejections that I'll hurt.
Again and again I will hurt, but if I do not even try I'm already
dead. I have to keep striving for the
mark, because writing is my life, and if you're reading this, then you are
giving my life meaning. Thank you for
taking the time to read these words.
I'll be writing more of them soon.
Here's hoping for a happy 2017 for all of us!
