Travis Thrasher's Blog, page 33

The Yellow Brick Road

Finally.

The whirlwind stops and lets you pass.

You find yourself on a yellow brick road.

You see the maps of where you've been and you understand why.

You understand who is behind the wizard and what he has to say.

The turbulence is explained.

The sky above is starting to clear now.
Your restless DNA is still there and will always be there, but you understand a little more of the where's and the why's.
It only took forty years but that's a Biblical number for testing, right?

You've been tested and now you're ready to go out into the world.

The failures of yesterday and tomorrow no longer weigh you down.

The humor that sparks laughter is no longer a coping mechanism.

The fears have a face and a number and a name.

The questions—well, some of the questions—have answers.

The beauty of the violent storms lie in their peaceful wake.

It makes sense, some of this. A boy suddenly understands so many years later.

Off the road, on a balloon, over a sand dune, toward the fading sun, drifting in memories.

It makes sense.

It doesn't right wrongs, but it explains a bit.

It sheds light in those places once dark and misunderstood.

It breaks the hard edges and softens the soul.

It whispers a good night kiss.
You see the road below pointing in an arrow and you soar ahead full of wonder and fear and excitement.
The boy will always be there.
But the storms have gone away.

Don't Tell Me What To Do

Don't tell me I need to stay in a genre.

Don't.

Don't tell me I need to stay in a space confined to a shelf in the a bookstore.
Really? For real? Which shelf will I fit in at Borders?

Oh, that's right.

That's my point.

I don't have a clue but don't tell me what to do.

Don't tell me what you think works.

You don't have a clue what works.

Nobody knows what works until it works and it's copied and it fades out.

Don't tell me you know.

And don't—don't—please don't—bring up the B word.

There are lots of be words I can think of beginning with B.

But the worst, the absolute worst B-word I can think of is BRAND.

Don't tell me I need I brand.

Tell me I need to work on my craft. Okay. Yes. I get it and I will.

But don't tell me I need a slogan or a tagline.

Don't tell me I need to be something I'm not.

I'm not a brand and never will be.

Cheerios and Hanes and Heineken are brands. I'm a guy born in Knoxville who moved all over the freaking world until I landed on a mountain top in North Carolina without a clue of what to do or where to go. A teen who fell in love with Stephen King and Depeche Mode and decided it would be easier to write than buy Korg synths and perform.

But don't tell me I need to be anything.

Yes, I understand your data and that's fine.

The stock market has lots of data too and look where that's getting them.

The world is changing and so is publishing and you're a fool to say it's not.

Yes, I will agree that I make buying decisions difficult.

If you liked the sweet you might not like the sour.

But don't tell me that this won't work. And don't—do not even begin to tell me you have a clue on how it WILL work.

If it's a science than it can be replicated, right?

If it's a model than it can be molded and mass produced. Right?

But oh, that's right—this is art. Something created by an individual that means something to someone.

This cannot and will not be replicated.

I'm not trying to be difficult. Really.

I know I am in an uphill battle.

What am I thinking anyway?

A male writing in Christian fiction?

A Christian novelist writing darker, supernatural stuff?

A writer trying out different point-of-views and different experiences?

A creator never wrapping it up in easy formats?

A storyteller giving you love one minute and then blood the next?

An inventor trying different things, even doing them with other artists?

A name that ultimately doesn't stand for anything? Or does it?

What about tales with redemption? What about stories with second chances?

What about things that try to stir the soul in their own flawed, scarred way?

You have to give me credit. You have to give me a few kudos.

I don't know anybody else out there doing what I'm doing.

If so tell me. Tell me and I'm going to follow them on Twitter and Facebook and hunt them down and ask how it's going.

But tell me.

There's nobody else is there.

I'm not bragging because my checking book begs to differ. My stamina begs to differ. My standing on the face of this publishing universe begs to differ.

I'm not bragging but I am trying to make a point.

I don't want you telling me what to do.

I don't even know if print books will be such a big thing twenty years from now. But the stories I'm trying to tell—emphasis on the word TRYING—are about hearts and souls trying to make a difference and trying to move on. And those sort of stories can stay around for a while.

I'm not trying to preach.

But I'm also not trying to paint a picture of a different world.

I'm trying a few blues and reds in a world of black and gray.

And that's coming from someone partially color blind.

So don't.

Just don't.

I've been in those hallways and those buildings and I know the comfort they give. I know the arrogance that can come with success. My hallway and building don't give that. All I get are a lot of tired sighs.

But you haven't walked my hallway and you're not in my building.

You can't state my brand and you can confine me in any genre.

I don't want my name to mean anything except awesome fiction. And for that goal, I still have a long ways to go.
I'm going to keep trying. And I'm going to try to tell heartbreaking love stories and terrifying supernatural tales. I'm going to keep trying to tell stories that move me and that make sense.

I'm going to find others who will let me tell their stories, and I'm going to bleed it out for them.

I'm going to find opportunities to tell unique stories and I'm going to do it in the only way my BRAND allows me to. I only have my voice and my worldview and I can try to disguise them but I am who I am. I want my stories to make people cry and see the sunset a bit differently.

A publisher would roll his eyes at that comment but a reader might not.

And I've made the move now. I'm no longer writing for myself anymore. Oh, I'm that arrogant and that egotistical to have it be about me. But I'm now writing for the readers. I've gotten enough out of my system and I'm really, genuinely trying to move a reader.

So don't tell me what to do. Or where I should go.

Don't tell me I'm making the easy decision because there is nothing easy about taking this route.

Don't tell me you know because you don't know.

25 years of publishing data doesn't mean jack. Not in today's world. You and I both know that.

I'm not trying to prove anybody wrong.

I'm just trying to prove that I'm worth someone paying me anything to publish. I still have a hard time believing that I'm worth any amount of money.

Believing in myself can still be hard.

But don't tell me what to do. Because I might still be insecure, but I'm also very, very stubborn.

That stubbornness has produced a lot of stories and a lot of ambition.

I'm not telling you to bet the farm on me.

I'm just asking for a little encouragement. And maybe a pat on the back.

We all know that if this crazy thing I have going works out, well . . . I've been in the hallways of a company where that's happened. And everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, changes.

But I won't. I hope and pray that I won't change. I want to continue to be the stubborn, sometimes stupid, sometimes silly kid who grew up wanting to be a storyteller and happens to be able to do this for a living.

I want to keep living.

And I want to keep telling stories.

That's all.

The Sequel To THE SHINING

I miss the Stephen King of the 70's & 80's.
For years, I've said that Stephen King is my favorite novelist, and that he's one of the reasons I write. And that's true.

But I have to finally admit this. An impressionable teenager enthralled with spooky stories fell in love with Stephen King in the early 80's. I already knew of his movies but then I read his short story collections, Night Shift and Skeleton Crew. Then I tackled It and The Stand and that's what forever did it. Those two brilliant novels moved something inside of me.
They cemented what I already knew: that I wanted to be a writer.
Many more Stephen King novels and collections have surprised and moved me: Different Seasons, The Green Mile, Bag of Bones to name a few. But as I grew older, so did Stephen King.
I've said this before: there are seasons in an artist's life & journey that can only be seen in hindsight and can probably only be appreciated by others.

I've admired how Stephen King has evolved as a novelist. I have never believed that he cranks out books because he wants to make money or because he has a contract to fill. I can related to King's desire to tell stories. The man has to write. He keeps retiring only to come back stronger. Even a near-fatal accident didn't stop him.
This leads up to the most recent news about Stephen King: that he's currently writing a sequel to The Shining.
Will I buy it? Of course. I'll buy everything Stephen King writes.
Will I finish the story? That's a good question.
I think I keep buying his books because I want to find another It or The Stand. But I also have to realize that won't ever happen. That young writer is gone. He might be an even better writer now, but that season of King's writing career is over.
I find it funny when someone tells me their favorite novel of mine is still The Promise Remains. The young naive kid who wrote that book is gone. I plan on writing more love stories, but I could never write one like that.
That might disappoint some readers, the same way it sometimes disappoints me that there won't be another 70's-esque Stephen King novel. But that's the beauty of being an artist. Growing and changing and morphing as you get older and as the world around you changes.
The moment I discovered Stephen King and his vast array of stories, I started to believe that I really could do this. I felt like all these stories in my head could go somewhere. Stephen King proved that an ordinary guy with an imagination and drive could produce a shelf full of books.
He's still doing it thirty years later.
I hope I can say the same thirty years from now.

101 Writing Tips

Because I haven't published anything in the last week, I figured I needed to have another book come out.
Those of you who have checked out this blog might remember my writing tips. Well, here they are--all 101 of them (I didn't finish posting them to add intrigue!). I also include ten of my favorite blogs I wrote about writing.
101 Writing Tips will be available as an ebook on Kindle and Nook next month. I'm going to start the price at $2.99. That means each tip is worth just under three cents. What a bargain!
I figure that half of these tips are good. And maybe 24 of them are really good.
If you're a writer or a fan or a fan of writing, you'll want to get this book.

A Quote On My Next Project

This morning I read a quote that summed up the plot of my next project:
"It's about people who are lost in a big scary environment and find each other as a form of getting through it. It's a love story basically."

This quote came from Chris Martin when describing Coldplay's upcoming album, Mylo Xyloto. Those of you who know me and follow this blog know that I'm a big Coldplay fan. When I read that quote this morning, I laughed. Then felt a few goosebumps.
I guess in many ways, that quote can sum up most great stories that involve a man and a woman.
I hope and plan and expect to be sharing more about this little story in the future. But first I need to finish this sweet little lullaby to my teen years entitled The Solitary Tales.

Gana

I've spent a lifetime being lost for words.

From my grade school years trying to talk with a speech impediment, to my teen years of moving and dealing with being a shy kid, I've found myself silent time and time again.

I've learned that this is one of the main reasons I've written and why I continue to write. Because it's easier to say the things I need to say—the things I wish I could have said—in hindsight. Days or weeks or months or even years later.

Some things in life are just too hard to be spoken out loud.

Sometimes the moment isn't right. Sometimes the words are too harsh. Or too sentimental. Or too shocking.

Sometimes you're just not strong enough, and the moment passes.

This past July, I visited my relatives down in Greer, South Carolina. I had the chance to see my 91-year-old grandmother who was suffering from dementia. She didn't seem to recognize me, but for a brief few moments on a Sunday morning while my Aunt Becky sang to the rest of the elderly folks at the facility, I thought that Gana and me made a small connection.

I'm the only grandchild of hers who called her Gana. It was from my difficulty with speech, from not being able to say either Nanny or Grandma. Instead, she was Gana.

On this Sunday morning, with Gana looking so frail and so tiny, I just knew. I knew that I was probably not going to see her again, not in this life, not here on earth.

So when my Aunt Becky got ready to leave, I said goodbye to Gana, knowing it would probably be the last time I ever said goodbye.

My heart ached knowing that she would never see our twins, the only great grand children of hers she hadn't personally seen. Oh she loved babies. She would have loved meeting Brianna and Mackenzie.

With a heavy heart and tears in my eyes, I told Gana goodbye.

And then I thanked her. For all the things she did for me and for all of us grandchildren.

Did she hear me? I don't know. But I do know I told it to her face-to-face, then kissed her before leaving her.

Maggie May Breazeale passed away this morning, and we all rejoice that she's in Heaven now. I celebrate her strength and her love. I know I'm not half as strong as she was.

Life is a breath and a blink, and we're not promised tomorrow. Because of that, I try to say everything I need to say with each passing day. But . . .

Well, it's hard to do that.

Sometimes you don't have the energy or the words or the courage.

So I do what I'm doing now—I write.

I write to celebrate, and to grieve, and to remember.

I write all those words I wished I could have said time and time again.

Gana is in a better place now. A place that I believe we'll never be at a loss for words. Not anymore.

Rest in peace, Gana.

10 Things You Need To Know About Having A Girl

A friend and former colleague was recently blessed with his second child and his first daughter. I came up with this top ten list to be read at his shower for fun.
10 Things You Need To Know About Having A Girl
#10. It's not too late to begin telling her that boys are evil. Not Daddys or brothers--they're special. But all other boys--MONSTERS.

#9. The mood swings start when they're about, oh, an HOUR old.

#8. Girls develop faster than boys. So it won't take long before they figure out who's in charge (PS: IT'S NOT YOU!)

#7. Be careful what you dress them in. Be very careful. Because if you're not, that little girl will become Lady Gaga.

#6. Don't worry about wondering whether she's the most beautiful thing in this world. She already is.

#5. If your daughter's personality starts driving you absolutely bonkers, it might just be that she takes just after YOU

#4. Do not--I repeat DO NOT--start thinking about the teen years. This leads to drug and alcohol abuse.

#3. Yes, boys rock. But remember this: GIRLS RULE.

#2. If there is only one girl in this universe who will end up loving your quirky, crazy, insane self, it will be your daughter

#1. Treat her like a princess, and trust me--you will always be her king.

Coldplay, Rihanna, and This Thing Called Collaboration

Today it was confirmed that Rihanna was going to be featured on one of the songs off Coldplay's upcoming album Mylo Xyloto. I was excited to hear this, then somewhat surprised to see some of the backlash from diehard fans.
This made me think of a quote from Jay Z on collaborating with others:
"The most important thing about collaborations is to maintain a sense of your self--you bring the best of what you do to the table and they bring the best of what they do to the table."
Now of course, I'm not a musician. But I feel I can speak as an artist on this thing called collaborating. I spent the last year collaborating with a couple of musicians on novels based on their songs and it ended up being one of the best things of my writing career.
Ten years ago, however, I would have said I'd never be "co-writer" with anybody. In fact, I clearly remember saying those words. But they were really spoken out of ignorance and pride.
This is what I believe about artists: they should grow and change. This happens naturally as they get older and as the world around them changes. Each decade defines you in a different way, from the teen years to the 20's and so on. Marriage, children, family life, triumphs and tragedies . . . all of these impact your evolution as an artist. Or they should.
One way artists can grow is to collaborate with fellow creatives.
Collaborating gives you another perspective. For those in a rock band like Coldplay, they already have four very distinct personalities and voices (not to mention producers and managers who work closely with them). But for authors like myself, I just have me and the voices in my head. Oh, we have a grand old time, but we tend to think the same way. Working with another artist helps give you other options and opinions, good and bad.
Collaborating also helps give you the freedom to not do things you might normally do, or to do the things you might normally not do.
Collaborating is also fun. Artists can be tempermental and testy, but they can also be giving and goofy and great fun (and remember--when I use the term "artist" I mean any creative person).
Those who know me know I'm a big fan of Coldplay. So they'll roll their eyes and simply think I've sipped the Chris Martin Koolaid. But want to know one reason I absolutely love this collaboration?
It's not because I like Rihanna. She's an amazing talent and I've enjoyed her music.
No, its because I've always wanted to create a character in a story who is inspired by Rihanna.
Well, it looks like Chris Martin was thinking the same way. He said this in regards to Rihanna working with them on Mylo Xyloto:
"The album is designed as a whole piece. It has boy and girl lead characters and top of our list for the girl part was Rihanna."
So speaking specifically on the Coldplay-Rihanna collaboration, I think it will be brilliant and I can't wait.
I love that Coldplay is evolving and growing. Some people will surely look at this collaboration as a way to sell records and make money (and you know folks, there's nothing wrong with that). But I think it's two creative forces partnering together to do something cool and different.
As far as collaborating in general, I can share that I've got many, many ideas for future collaborations. Jimmy Wayne and I have already come up with half a dozen story ideas that may see the light of day. I have ideas to work with other singers, bands, writers, critics, coaches, directors (and no, I'm not just saying that).
It will be fun to see which door opens next, and what interesting creation it will lead to.

Time

Standing at the edge looking up and down . . . what do I see?
Living on borrowed time.
Rushed and exhausted.
Neverending.
Working for what? Working for that?
Yeah, I'm talking about this writing thing.
This is for those of you who read this blog and who follow my writing. I don't keep tab who reads this. I really don't want to care but I have to care because if I don't care I get left behind. I have to care because most everybody else doesn't.
I did not start writing to make money or build a career or (kill me now) create a brand. I started writing because I needed to write.
I've done it long enough in a certain way and enough is enough.
I'm ending the madness and starting anew. I really am.
I'm not going to tell you why and how and when and what because that tells you too much. One of these days, I won't even be writing on this blog. I'll just be writing and letting my writing speak for itself. Whether I have releases coming out every few months or few years or never.
Our twins turned one on September 3 and I realized that my entire freaking world shifted when they were born. It was still about me before I saw their precious little faces but no more. Things have changed inside of me in ways I don't want to share. I'm not exactly sure if I could share them. I just know that I'm a different man than I was a year ago.
In regards to this writing thing . . . well, I've been at a crossroads for a while. I'm still at the crossroads. It's not just because I'm one of the many authors trying to break through. It's not just that. It's many things.
I look at the results.
Then I look at the expectations.
I look at the possibilities.
Then I look at the realizations.
I stand looking up and looking down and wondering which way to go.
I no longer want to write for me. I no longer need to write for me. For better or probably for worse, I've gotten that out of my system. 40 was the novel that did that. But it's not just that. It's not just the twins. It's other stuff that is none of your business.
So why are you blogging about it then Travis, huh?
Because I know there are those of you who care about what I do. I know because you've told me.
I share this because I feel like I'm on the verge of something spectacular. When I say that, I don't think of dollar signs or bestseller lists. I think of stories. I have worked my tail off these past four years on these stories in my head.
I'm ready to start writing for you.
That's not some marketing phrase some self-absorbed novelist says to sound deep and touching. Oh, I'm self-absorbed, trust me. But I'm serious.
I'm done with analyzing myself. I'm over myself.
There are bigger stories left to tell and I'm ready to tell them.
It's time to prove to the publishers and the world that I can succeed doing this thing I'm doing.
Then again, I might not have the time or the energy to do what I want to do.
There are days when I think I'm tapped out. I give a chunk of my heart and soul to these stories and get a whole world full of ambivilence.
Who's to blame? I blame myself because ultimately, a story needs to stand on its own.
I don't know how much time I have left. How many stories I'm able to tell. How long I can do this.
But I will share this after today's planning.
My plans are more outrageous than they were four or eight or ten years ago. I have better stories and better abilities and better drive than I've ever had. I feel like everything is clicking and I just need time in order to succeed.
Time.
We're not promised tomorrow, right?
And my number one priority is this family full of pink. These ladies who trust on me.
I've told enough stories so if I simply tell a few more and that's it, oh well.
No, that's crap. It's not oh well. I'm always going to be writing.
And I'm telling you this. If you've reached this end of this rambling slightly sickening blog that I'll probably delete like many others of this sort, I'll share a secret with you.
Watch out.
Seriously.
The fog has lifted and it's time to seriously get to work.
The maps are in place.
The names and the faces are right there waiting to be used.
The stories are simply waiting.
I just pray that I'll have time to tell them.
Only God can answer that one.

Writer Reality Show!

So do you have what it takes to be America's next great novelist? Are you a midlist author with dwindling sales numbers? Or someone who's never managed to break the publishing barrier? Perhaps you've always been told you're an amazing writer by your friends and relatives.
"Stephen King's The Write Stuff" is a show for you.
This is a new reality competition show that airs on the cable television network Bravo, in which writers published and unpublished will compete against each other in literary challenges. They are judged by a panel of professional editors and critics and other notables from the publishing industry with one or more contestants eliminated in each episode. (The show is produced by Magical Elves Productions, the same company that created Top Chef and Project Runway.)

The host, of course, is the lovable Stephen King. Our 12 contestants will engage in various writing challenges meant to show diversity and ability. The winner of "The Write Stuff" will receive a multi-book contract by a prominent New York publisher along with $100,000 advance.
While this show is absolutely imaginary and conceived while tweeting with other fellow novelists and twitterers on a weekday night, there is a caveat if Magical Elves Productions or someone else decides to go with the show: Travis Thrasher must be one of the contestants, and a year's worth of diapers must be added to the final prize (since he'll definitely win).