Life Before Literature

Everyone starts somewhere. That's what they say, at least. So, what did I do before swerving into the exciting field of professional writing? Good question! I'm glad you asked.

I've mentioned how I have always been an avid reader, and this goes all the way back Green Eggs and Ham, by Dr. Seuss, which I happily read to every family member present one Thanksgiving, much to their collective dismay. From the point where I first learned how to sound out words, I've been into the undiscovered worlds offered in literature. This makes it fifty years, coming up on fifty-one by the time I publish my first novel this coming August. Fifty years spent devouring print media, in all forms.

Around 1999, when I purchased my first house, I was still receiving European Car Magazine, in the mail. I loved reading the work of Les Bidrawn, feature columnist and eventual editor. He's not only a talented photographer, but a humorous writer, bring car stories to life. I've loved German cars for as long as I can remember. One day, on a whim, after reading about VW's then-new 1.8T GTI (the prior 2.0L versions having become quite long in the tooth and the VR6 variants quite out of reach financially), I decided to write a letter to the editor. I called it "The Return of the King". I fired it off via email from my old Acer 486 tower PC (primitive, I know), and promptly forgot about it.

Almost a year later, while rereading an old issue of EC I'd kept, because it had a review of the new GTI in it, I was browsing the Letters to the Editor section when, lo and behold, the words began to feel familiar. It had been split between the front of the magazine and the back, in the advertising section, and I had to flip pages in order to find my name. To say I was thrilled would be a massive understatement. I think I actually danced wildly around my little office (this was pre-children, so I still had an office in my home) shouting at the top of my lungs. I'd been published within the same pages as my idol, Les. Published, yet unpaid, mind you. This was huge, and more importantly, set the stage for what was to come.

Fast forward half a decade and, shortly after learning I was to become a father, I was released from my job at the local automotive dealership. It was a crushing blow. Face with financial doom, I sold the old 240Z "racecar" (and I do use that term loosely) in my garage which I'd spent the better part of a few months stripping in anticipation of painting it bright Corvette Yellow, and picked up a used Canon D60 (with its Three Blind Mice AF system), a quality Canon USM-L70-200 f4 lens, a cheap 28-85mm zoom, and reinvented myself as a freelance automotive photojournalist. Necessity breeds genius. And was I ever needy at that point.

I wrote emails to every automotive magazine editor I could, having visited an Barnes & Nobles and jotted down their email addresses. I included sample photographs, and in short order, had a list of five willing to accept submissions. I combed local car shows and track events for the interesting and the obscure, reasoning that overseas magazines would not have access to such an atypical selection. And it worked. I was in business for myself, writing during the week and traveling a couple weekends per month to do photoshoots. I'd taught myself photography starting in 1996 when I moved to the desert and witnessed for the first time the amazing lightning storms which roll through every monsoon season. It had to be easier to shoot a car than lighting. And safer too!

For the next decade, I was self-employed, and up to my elbows in diapers daily. It saved daycare money, and allowed me to be closer to my kids in a way that parents these days no longer get to experience. I was "Daddy Daycare" before it was cool. My goal was to produce five or six quality stories per month, text and photos. It was hand-to-mouth existence, as it could be as long as six months before a story would publish and pay. "Feast or famine" became a catchphrase in my household, much to my wife's dismay. But, through it all, we made it work.

Overall, in a decade, I wrote a little over two hundred and eighty stories for fifteen different publications. My work was published on four continents, and translated into two, possibly three languages. Some of it is still available on the web today, on Motor Trend's website, and a few enthusiast bulletin boards. By and large though, the heyday of automotive print magazines passed with the collapse of the economy in 2008-2009, and the large websites maintained by publishers in the U.K. and Australia went the way of the Dodo bird. The stash of magazines in my garage represents an irreplaceable treasure trove of a time when, in order to eat, I HAD to write.

At an average length of 3,000 words per story for 283 stories, I wrote a little under 850,000 words. It's been often repeated that a writer must write a million words to learn the craft fully. Between the first and second drafts of Schrödinger’s Heart, and a decade of emails to editors, shops, builders, and sponsors, I believe I'm there. I have arrived.

Here's to the next million words.