Join me on my road to publication (part 1)

My new multipart series will chronicle the ups and downs of an ordinary person striving to becoming a novelist in the real world. The series will span more than five decades.

I’m the author of ten published novels, three novellas, and one nonfiction book. Seven of the novels, the three novellas, and the nonfiction book were traditionally published. I self-published the remaining three novels.

Though this might seem impressive to some, it goes without saying that I’m no Stephen King, especially when it comes to our respective bank accounts. Despite boasting over 50,000 purchases/downloads of my books, I’ve barely broken into five figures in cash royalties because (admittedly) most of the sales were free or inexpensive ebooks. Regardless, it’s likely there are authors who would trade places with me, which might be viewed as a sad commentary on how extraordinarily difficult it is for a no-name to hit it big.

Though I’m not the only author on Substack chronicling something like this, my story has unique elements that I believe will be informative and relatable to writers and readers. Over the next several months, I’ll post a bimonthly account of my journey to publication—from the 1970s when I was a young man with big dreams to a recently retired dude who hasn’t given up on those dreams quite yet. Here is part 1.

It all began in high school

During my teen years in the mid-1970s, I was one of those relatively rare students who was equally adept at math and English. The summer before my junior year in high school, I decided it was time to choose between the two disciplines. I have friends who focused on math and ended up with lucrative careers. But in the Seventies, I was an enthusiastic fan of a new author named Stephen King and a much older one named J.R.R. Tolkien. Their combined influences gave birth to an irresistible desire to become a bestselling novelist. In the years that followed, I bragged to family and friends about becoming an international sensation and making at least $75-million in book sales.

I started out about $74.999,999 away from my stated goal, so it’s definitely an understatement to say that I had a ways to go. Like most teenagers, I was living with my parents who owned a modest home in St. Petersburg, Florida. I had all the basic necessities, but my stepdad had an annoying habit of spending two dollars for every dollar he made, which left nothing in the budget for my college education. The cold reality? I was on my own in terms of paying for my higher education, so I settled for a Bachelor’s degree in Journalism—rather than a Ph.D in English—and went straight to work after graduation at a local newspaper. This made sense to me. While gearing up for my first bestseller, I would refine my craft at my day job. Awesome! The millions would soon pour in, my brief tenure as a journalist would conclude, and my real career as a full-time novelist would take off like gangbusters.

In 1978 when I was 21 and living in my own apartment, I wrote my first novel using an old-fashioned electric typewriter that at the time seemed high tech. (It even had removable cartridges, with black ink for typing and white ink for corrections. 😀) My debut novel was a Stephen King-like tale titled Sarah’s Curse. I’ll spare you the synopsis, but needless to say it was rejected numerous times and never published. Still, I wasn’t overly concerned. They say writers rarely hit it big with their first novel. It’s their second, third, or fourth that does the trick. The first was done. On to the second!

The year before I wrote Sarah’s Curse, I graduated from the University of South Florida with my Bachelor’s in Journalism. I immediately accepted a job at the St. Petersburg Times, which was one of the top newspapers in the nation during the twenty-five years I worked there. I quickly excelled as a journalist but not without having to pay the price of working long hours that included weekends and holidays. I also got married, had a couple of kids, bought a house, mowed the lawn, washed the car, got divorced, got remarried, etc. In the blink of an eye I was 45 and there was still no second novel, much less a third or fourth.

In other words, life got in the way. At least, that was my excuse.

But then something happened that brought book 2 to life.

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Up next: A three-year sabbatical from the rat race.