The weekend is supposed to let me unwind, not feeling cursed!

I can only pray that next week gets better.

For the longest time, I was driven and determined to get my books through the front door–rather than the back–and I did everything that the agents (or publishers) asked of me. Though I faced down a couple hundred rejections over the course of the first 8 years of submitting, I was still convinced that I could do it; no matter how many times the submission requirements changed or got confusing at times. (There have been instances where some of what the agents or publishers wanted, desired, or requested, made any sense to me and asking for clarifications often came back with a snarky response “letter” or some e-mail that begged to have my head bitten off.)

Eventually…all of that changed.

I soon found out the door to traditional publishing was being choked off for new writers. The word counts were shrinking, the guidelines were becoming more and more restrictive, and the free flow of soluble information was coming in at a trickle at best–forcing me to find other sites or resources that could help expand my search and overall progress.

But no matter what I tried, I was still hitting a brick wall. I realized that nobody wanted large novels, so I tried with smaller ones. I thought–at least–this would work, but I also quickly discovered that writing a small novel (100,000 words or less) was no guarantee that an agent would take interest–let alone a publisher.

But during this time, the economy was just coming out of the worst recession prior to the Meltdown of 2008 and the Great Recession. Agents and publishers alike were being hit especially hard and business for the mainstream was questionable at best–even though it was a multi-billion dollar industry. (And still is.)

The two agents I had originally signed up with, folded, and closed down shop. Big and small publishers were either merging or downsizing their operations to make themselves more leaner and more efficient and authors were having a harder and harder time collecting on their royalty checks.

In short, things were pretty bad; bleak to say the least.

After 2006, I decided that I had enough of the mainstream, enough of pursuing my dream of being traditionally published, and moved onto greener pastures. It didn’t matter what I wrote. I wasn’t going to be accepted.

So I started looking at other options.

And that’s when I started looking at self-publishing. Now, contrary to what the industry thinks or sees it (none of their words being less than flattering mind you), it’s a process where by which you take control of your work and essentially pay someone or a company to publish your book for you–taking into effect all the risks and all the gambles that normally wouldn’t incur while being traditionally published.

Things like editing, copy-editing, proofing, cover art, etc, etc, etc…are arenas that you have to pony up money for and pay for in order to get where you want with your books.

Unfortunately, the majority of new authors and writers don’t see self-publishing as an investment, but a quick way to get their books out however they can. (And believe me when I say this: A lot of the books turned out are of poor standard of quality and not very good reads.)

Personally, I wish they would spend the money to increase the chances and likelihood of a fair return and modest book sales, but they just don’t. They are simply too impatient to rush the process. (Like I keep saying, writing is all about patience.)

And the rights to their books are also seized or stolen outright because the authors simply didn’t spend enough time reading the fine print of their contracts–tying them up for years at a time; making it impossible for them to get their rights back.

In recent years, I’ve read that this has been changed in order to protect the author more in the long run–because of some high profile cases–but some websites that are charged with looking out for the author sometimes report that the houses simply changes names to avoid suspicion and continue their illegal practice of seizing the rights of authors without protest.

I was hesitant to sign myself up to outfits like IUniverse or Author House because of the rights issue and a few other…problems. (Book length being one of them.)

And all the research I did while checking the self-publishing route meant that I would be bearing the brunt of the costs for my books: The editing, proofing, cover art, the works.

So I took my time and felt my way around–checking things out and covering my bases.

The last thing I wanted was to put myself in an implacable position where I would be boxed in with no way out. Because I take this game of publishing very seriously, just as I do with my writing.

(And if that makes me sound arrogant, well, I apologize. It’s just the way I am.)

Fortunately–after a few more years–I came to the inescapable conclusion that there was nothing I could do about the self-publishing front. Only because none of the vanity houses would take the books I had in tow–especially my larger ones due to page limits–and few (if any) were interested in compromising.

Like the traditional industry, they had their way of doing things and wanted no source of input from people like me.

So I had to wait.

Wait until something passed or something came up which would allow me a suitable outlet into the world of self-publishing. I finally managed to track down an editor for my novels, but the process of getting things out have been hitting snags left and right. Sometimes, it was financing, others, it was housing.

These days, I’m short on one, but set in the other–after coming out of a homeless stint that has set my writing back a few years.

Now, I realize that–as the Golden Rule–you’re never supposed to pay and editor for services, you’re never supposed to waste money on anything that keeps the money from flowing to you, instead of vice-versa.

But let’s be real here: The chances of any of us getting our foot into the front door of the traditional publishing industry has become almost next to impossible. We can continue to believe that we might still have that chance, but I just spent 8 long years looking at that mirror and came away with not a single bite of interest from the mainstream.

I’m not making an open, passionate, plea for self-publishing here (because it carries risk–just like everything else in life), but at some point, each and every one of us who is still in the market to become traditionally published will have to make a decision: How many years are you willing to expend in order to get there?

Keep in mind, the industry can wait you out forever if need be. They aren’t in a hurry to publish any one of us. They’ll decide on whether or not your good enough, or that you’re ready. Not the writer him or herself.

And that could take years.

I got out because I was tired of the rejections and the excuses by the mainstream and the agents. Not because of the writing itself.

So if I’m going to be self-published, I might as well make it a worthwhile investment. Spend whatever money is necessary to get the book out. I’m probably one of a few writers that do this these days, because wherever I look on my Facebook page and elsewhere, I still see glaring examples of poorly edited, self-published works.

It just turns my stomach to know that one day, I’ll have to compete with a piece of garbage–instead of a shining jewel–for money and accolades.

But that’s the way things are set up. You have to weed your way through the mess and stand out on your own. Otherwise…? You’re toast.

Self-publishing also means that you have to do much of the leg work and the guess work. All the advertising and promoting. And yes, being self-published means:

A) You won’t see the inside of a Barnes and Noble bookstore…ever. (Independent book stores are even more picky about what titles they carry.)

B) Traditional publishers won’t touch you with a ten-foot pole. (Go ahead: Try it. They’ll just laugh at you!)

C) The chances of making serious money is actually small to remote. Most self-published titles sell less than 1,000 copies. The fewer lucky ones might go 20,000. But you still have to work your ass off to make a sale. (Sitting on your butt doesn’t count.)

Regardless of how you view self-publishing, it is becoming more and more of an attractive option for writers and authors who can’t garner the interest of the mainstream.

Thanks in part to the rise of e-books, the Kindle, and Amazon’s Createspace program, self-publishing isn’t that awful pariah that so many thought it was only a decade ago–where you had to haul around a mountain of books and sell them out of your car yourself.

Granted, the challenge is still there. You still have to get the word out about your books. You can’t just sit on the sidelines and expect it to sell itself. There is still that critical marketing factor which will peak interest amongst readers and that element is you.

If you can’t sell your books, who will?

Arrogance–by definition–is an offensive display of superiority or self-importance wrought forth by overbearing pride.

So sue me.

I’m arrogant. I’ve been called such. But I’m also a world-class asshole by others–a hateful, spiteful little man who knows nothing about what he does, only that he thinks he knows.

(Yeah. Okay. I’m feeling the love there…!)

And the truth is, I don’t care how people view me. Looks, appearances, whatever you like to call it…I’m not bothered by it. I used to be. Not too long ago. But I’ve grown accustomed to the way I am. You could call me a slob and I would just simply shrug.

Or a pig.

Whatever floats your boat. And to be honest, I’ve heard these kinds of words or phrases hurled in my direction all my life. When you’ve been in my shoes, seen the things that I’ve seen, you quickly learn ways to protect and shield yourself from all the verbal abuse that comes your way.

You withdraw from things, from people, from life itself and just live in a vacuum.

No…this isn’t a pity party on my part. I’m simply explaining things the best I can. In the real world, I have few friends. Not because I’ve alienated myself from people. In fact, it’s quite the opposite: I just lose touch and track of people over time.

During my job tenures, I established close knit family ties with some of the people I’ve worked with, always stayed on as being part of the “team”, but I’m always by myself. Always alone. I don’t socialize very well because I’m afraid to open up.

So I keep things to myself. I keep things bottled up for as long as possible.

Such things would ruin normal people. But I’ve learned to adapt and adjust to my surroundings in my own way. The stress. The anxiety. The depression. Everything that wracks the human psyche and spits out the unsavory pieces afterwards…

It’s how I’ve lived my life. And along the way I’ve picked up and honed traits that have pissed the wrong people off time and again. And I’ve gotten in trouble for it. Paid the price. Accepted the consequences as they came.

As one of my contacts said: “…you will always fail.”

And in truth…? I’ve always failed. Success for me is an alien concept–because such a moment in time doesn’t last very long. It comes and it goes. And if I ever truly became successful, I wouldn’t know what to do with it.

I’m arrogant at times because I choose to be arrogant. Not because I like to be a total prick of the world either. But because I choose to be. Because I have this overpowering faith in my abilities as a writer whenever I look at my writing.

I see the potential that is there. I see the possibilities that have yet to exist. I look beyond the box that everyone else is presently in and see things that life has always hinted at in both fantasy and dreams.

What I write becomes a part of my experience, my quest to unlock the hidden treasures of the known universe. You can’t simply gain knowledge by a wave of a magic wand. You have to earn it.

Nobody gave me the keys to becoming a successful writer. I had to learn the craft on my own–through reading and books. I applied what I knew to my craft wherever I could, but never thought of myself as superior to everyone.

Just a good writer. My blind faith in myself become my source of arrogance. Because nobody else had faith in me. Few didn’t think I could cut it as a writer. Only because fewer still understood what it took to become one.

Like they say all over cyberspace, the road to being a writer is a lonely one. No one is your friend. No one is an ally. But you’re surrounded by enemies left and right who would rather cut you down than support you on your quest.

I accept that.

I’ve known that my path wouldn’t win me that many friends. But it would generate a lot of enemies because I was always writing against the grain of civilization. The foundation of writing and publishing. I would be challenging doctrine and established dogma that has stood for well over 100 years.

I knew what I was getting myself into the moment that I started writing. The moment my imagination took hold and brought me to this point many years later. I knew that what I was doing wouldn’t be accepted by a lot of people. 

But I did it anyway. My only mistake along the way was trying to get people to understand my position. I thought that if I did that, it would make my job all that easier. Turns out I was wrong. (And still am.)

The people that control the purse strings don’t want their absolute authority challenged. Only that it is accepted as blind faith in itself. A show of arrogance that is well placed because it is part of their mandate–a well established line of obedience and acceptance in a long line of storied tradition.

I only found out this through years of pursuing what I had hoped would be a quick jaunt into traditional publishing. These people are so set in their ways, that nothing (and I mean nothing) could ever upset that.

They despise the new writer as much as they despise new direction and new ideas. They don’t like conformity so long as they are the ones that are doing the conforming.

Do or die. It’s that simple.

But as Master Yoda once said: “Do or do not. There is no try.”

So I do it. I decided one day that I won’t play by the same rules as everyone else. I decided to lash out at people and out at the mainstream.

I decided on whether or not I want to be arrogant.

However, pride also has its price. I still remain alienated from the writer community. I can’t conform to their way of thinking and doing because it’s simply not mine. Like two opposing forces, we’ll never meet on equal terms.

We’re both dead set in our ways and our mode of thinking. Neither one of us plans to back down anytime soon.

I realize that I’ll never become famous, never make a shit load of money off my books, but that’s not the reason why I write these 330,000+ word novels. Why I spend months and years hashing things out on my own until I’m sure that it’s going to work.

Because nobody else will do the work for me.

I am alone in my endeavor. I am alone because it’s the only way I can be assured that I will succeed at some point in my life–no matter how much time it takes. With too many people, too many voices, both the idea and the dream can be easily corrupted and/or destroyed.

Leaving you with only bits and pieces to show for your effort.

I can’t allow that to happen.

So in writing, I’m only projecting my fierce passion and determination for my work. Only I can make it happen. Only I can finish these mammoth projects and go onto the next.

Being arrogant, being a jerk are just facets of my life. But you can never go through it by simply being nice 24/7.

Sometimes…you have to let your dark side come out and play every once in awhile too.

It’s the only way we survive. It’s the only way we’ll be able to win in the end.

Newt Gingrich Presses Ron Paul to Explain Racist Newsletters

Newt Gingrich on Friday challenged GOP rival Ron Paul to explain more than a decade’s worth of incendiary newsletters that he has disavowed.

The newsletters contain bigotry against black, Jews, and gays and an obsession with conspiracies.

“These things are really nasty, and he didn’t know about it, wasn’t aware of it,” said Gingrich adding “But he’s sufficiently ready to be president? It strikes me it raises some fundamental questions about him.”

Ron Paul has tried since 2001 to disassociate himself from the newsletters which starting in 1985 bore the name “Ron Paul Investment Letter”, “Ron Paul Survival Report,” and the “Ron Paul Political Report.”

Paul this week told ABC News’ Jon Karl that he “disavowed those messages” and added that he was practicing medicine at the time and that other people wrote part of the letters for him.

He even walked out of an interview on CNN on Wednesday claiming that he didn’t write the newsletters.

But Paul has indicated that he knew of the newsletters as far back as 1995 and even vouched for the accuracy and admitted writing at least some of the passages in 1996.

During a bruising 1996 Congressional campaign, Paul’s Democratic opponent Charles “lefty” Morris surfaced a 1992 newsletter which stated that 95 percent of black men in Washington “are criminal or entirely criminal.”

Paul told the Dallas Morning News in 1996 that he was being taken out of context and the columns should be read in their entirety.

The 1992 newsletter also stated that “If you have ever been robbed by a black teenage male, you know how unbelievably fleet of foot they can be.”

Paul did not deny to Dallas paper that he made the statement about the swiftness of black men.

“If you try to catch someone that has stolen a purse from you, there is no chance to catch them,” Paul said.

Paul again vouched for a 1993 edition of the “Ron Paul Survival Report” addressed to “Dear Frightened American” warns of a “national emergency” when the government will close all banks and seize accounts to pay off debts, particularly for the war on drugs.”

According to The Austin American Statesman, the newsletter went on to urge readers to buy foreign passports to better hide their assets from the federal government.

Paul countered at the time to the San Antonio Express-News that he has given readers of his newsletters legal and investment and personal security advice for some time.

“For Lefty to question the right of Americans to provide for their safety from terrorists and for financial security through legal means tells you where Lefty is coming from,” Paul told the San Antonio Express-News.

Paul again in 1996 acknowledged that he wrote a 1992 newsletter that calls the late Barbara Jordan, the first black woman elected from the south to the U.S. House, a “fraud” and an “empress without clothes.”

Paul told the Austin American Statesman paper he was contrasting Jordan’s political views with his own.

“The causes she so strongly advocated were for more government, more and more regulations and more and more taxes,” said Paul.

It wasn’t until 2001 that Paul began to deny that the words in the newsletters weren’t his, telling the Texas Monthly that others had written it because it was “too confusing.”

“I could never say this in the campaign, but those words weren’t really written by me,” Paul said.

“It wasn’t my language at all. Other people help me with my newsletter as I travel around.”