rockets in the night - a metaphor

For the last two years, since I started work on a new book, I've been told by lots of people, over and over again, "don't worry about it, the book is great, just finish it and send it in!" Meanwhile, I went into comatose states working on it and trying to rework and fix it and etc. etc. until I finally sent it in to my agent a month ago.

(Well, I sent in the 400-page version a month ago. The original 500-pager I asked for back. The original original 582-pager is in my room in a Staples box where it earned me lots of Staples rewards points.)

Yesterday I talked with my agent about the book.

Now, there are two ways to describe the nature of the phone call:

1. I'm making lots of progress on a new project right now, so we're going to put this book aside until I can take a look at it later on, so I don't get burned out about it, and maybe revisit it in the future


2. Shelved!

I was worried, naturally, about the phone call. But when I got off the phone I felt great. Basically, everything that I was worried about with this book was confirmed for me: it was kind of all over the place, you didn't have a connection with the narrator, the whole part about Los Angeles felt like a sideshow, the characters were thin, the relationships weren't really there, the whole thing with the baby felt a bit phony...

At the end we agreed that the whole concept, which I'm going to keep under wraps because I think it might make a good video game someday (seriously), is a bit dated.

Considering that I spent 22 months writing this book, that's not surprising, and it would be nice to hear that it was great and that we can go sell it.

But writing it was a horrible experience and I'm glad it's over and since then I've been working on something better that I am on track to finish by the end of summer.

In other words, I got off the phone feeling good, and I still do, when for once in my life maybe I SHOULD feel really crappy. But getting the monkey off my back means a lot. I finished the thing. It just will not be published because it isn't good enough for you guys to read.

Post-mortem on the book: it was going to be called Urban Renewal Renewal, the final draft was 392 pages. July 2007 - April 2009. This was an attempt at an "adult" book, in that the protagonist was in his 20s and not a teenager. But one thing that we discussed in the phone call was that that's no longer even a distinction. To wit, re: youth and adults:

1. Our biggest movie is Transformers
   [I think it's important to remember that the Transformers STARTED as a toy; it's not like they were a comic or TV show before they were toys; but then again, people had to make up the narrative for the toys; this means that means some nameless writers at Takara are some of the biggest cultural forces of our time]


2. The biggest books are for young adults
   [and James Frey just signed on to do a series]


3. One of the biggest pop stars in the world is named "Ga Ga"

In other news:

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  Toyota technology has brain waves move wheelchair
  
  Whoa.



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  Got this on the subway. It's not a corporate thing; the guy handing out the flyers wrote the text. Very distinct writing style you should check out.
  
  "You will not even have time to think, because the torment and scorching heat of Hell fire will keep you in excruciating pain and discomfort."
  
  Pain and discomfort?