Sunday, June 27, 2010

Signing Off on The Fear

The Fear.

Hey folks, told you I'd be back. It's weird, though. I'm technically part of the blogging generation - been there since it started, off and on, though you could argue about when it really started, of course. But now - no offense to you, faithful readers - it seems like more of a chore than it used to. Maybe Facebook and Twitter have made me lazy. I wonder if anyone else feels like this - seems likely. I even kind of "gave up" on Twitter because I just wasn't feeling it. I'm not the guy who has to send texts every ten minutes about where I am and what I'm doing. Admittedly, a lot of the time that's because I'm not anywhere and not doing anything, but still.

One thing I did get to today was signing pages for my upcoming book, Hard Boiled Vampire Killers, soon to be available, yadda yadda, link to Dark Regions Press goes here. I think that's safe to say since I think it would be damn unlikely a small-press would put out a book that didn't have a signed edition. I won't go into the number since I don't think that's been made official yet, either.

Definitely a new experience. One day I get a kinda-heavy package in the mail and look down at a bunch of heavy-bonded sheets of paper with the title of my book, the number, and a little place to sign my name. I sat down and knocked a bunch out this evening, which is why I'm now sitting here doing this. I washed my hands, turned the AC on, locked the dogs out, and got to work.

While my hand was busy with all the signing, my mind drifted - sort of like this blog entry. I thought about a lot of things. How this shit just got more real. How, when I started, I never would've thought I would've got here. How amazing it still is to me that not only do people like this book, they like it enough to pay me money for it and do things like bet their own money on making money off of it. All things I dreamed about but kept thinking in the back of my mind were a long shot at best.

And halfway through, I got The Fear. I'm sure this is far from a unique experience. It's that doubt you get, that makes you wonder, Dear God, what if this is a spectacular failure? What if, when the curtain is drawn back, the fanfare is blown, the lights go up - and the people see right through you and laugh and all of a sudden you just went from being the latest Hollywood blockbuster to The Room?

I took a break, tried to center myself. I thought two things.

One was, it sure as hell is too late to shut it down now. I mean, technically it's never too late to do anything until you're dead or the IRS calls. Too late to do it without wrecking my life and career before it even got started is what I mean. So this Fear is irrational and needs to be seen as such. It's pointless to worry about these things because they're out of my control. The book is written, the contract is signed, it's all going to happen. Really it's about not having a whole lot of control after the books hit the printer and the reviewers start getting their copies.

The second thing was, I got this far on guts and just a shred of belief in myself. How much further could I get if I tried harder, believed in myself more? Maybe I'm too scared of falling into my own ego, trying so hard not to be the guy who doesn't know he's an asshole that I'm not giving myself any credit, not nutting up and just doing it. How many guys run into this Fear and let it stop them in their tracks, how many circle back to the last place they were safe and just stick it out there?

I signed a few more pages, more than meeting my goal for tonight, and figured I should blog about it because, well, I figured maybe someone would want to know.

It's like the SAS's motto - He Who Dares, Wins. Or something like that.

Great Moments in Being Married.

The other day my wife and I had a conversation a lot like this:


Wife: "What's up?"
Me: "Checking out the TV upfront trailers for this fall. Looked like a whole 'lotta nothin', maybe some of those chick shows you like where people make out and cry a lot, until I saw 'The Cape.' Holy shit this show looks awesome."
W: "What's it about?"
JG: "A cop is framed for a crime he didn't commit. He hides out in the sewers, where he's instructed in the art of flipping a cape around so you can do shit like smack dudes in the face and steal someone's beer out of their hand, shit like that. He uses the cape to fight crime and restore his good name as - The Cape! Did I mention he learns this stuff in a secret underground carnival where Keith David is the ringmaster? Motherfucking Keith David!"
W: "Oh, sounds neat."
JG: "Right, I forgot you don't necessarily know who Keith David is ..."
W: "No, I do."
JG: "Huh? How's that? I don't think you've seen any of his movies."
W: "No, but every time you see him in something, you're all like 'Holy Shit! Keith David! Awesome!' You usually applaud."

Got me there, Honey Bunches 'a Love. In conclusion, Keith David is awesome. Accelerate your life.

Dream Journal - A Random Entry.

Still want more content? OK. The other day I had a pretty awesome dream. I was Doctor Who and my companions were the cast of "How I Met Your Mother". Neil Patrick Harris was some mercenary/Han Solo-type I met on some planet where there's always a world war going on. Cobie Smulders was wearing a field-hockey outfit, I guess I picked her up at one of those English boarding schools. Alysson Hannigan was some computer chick from somewhere, she had glasses. Josh Radnor was basically Aldric except a little more douchey. Jason Segel was not there, maybe we were trying to rescue him. All I know is, we were infiltrating this place that looked like a cross between a dungeon and a corporate boarding room - stone walls and finely-polished wooden doors. Hannigan was futzing with some handheld thingy trying to hack the Gibson. NPH made a comment about how it was too quiet. I opened a door and confronted a bunch of dudes in huge Mardis Gras masks set high above their shoulders that made them look like playing-card royalty doing something in front of an altar. And it was on! NPH and Smulders went after the guards (she even had a hockey stick with her) while Hannigan hid behind one of those things people kneel on. I don't know what happened to Radnor, I figure we didn't have any math problems to solve so shut the hell up and go hide with computer chick, Aldric!

And I, resplendent in my magnificent red velvet cape, jump kicked the leader in his big puppet head.

Top that, Moffat.

1 comment:

  1. Good post. Just keep pumping us up for HBVK! I check every day to see if it's out yet :)

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