Today was slightly insane for me. I had so many topics for tonight's GF that I nearly went insane thinking about it. But after reading this I decided I had to be a writer tonight. People tell me that I should teach, but that would be so wretched to me. I'm fine with writers who are cool with that, but it's just not me. I have nothing worth teaching. I'm an asshole like everyone else. So fuck it. I'm a guy who never wants you to think about me. I want you to read my work and not think about the guy who wrote it. So against my better judgment, let's do this.
I tried writing BLOOD a few years back. I talked to a guy in a bar, and he told me that when he got frustrated, he would pull over and chop a tree down to get it out of his system. I get it.
But here is my dedication: "To everyone I've ever hurt, especially you. You'll know who you are after reading the prologue." I'm not fucking around. He will never read that prologue because he doesn't read books, but if he did, he would know why. I literally tried to strangle someone to death. I failed, thankfully, but it has haunted me forever. I didn't think I was capable of that, but I was. I did it. And then something made me turn back, and instead of killing this person, I punched the wall so hard I broke my knuckles.
I am so glad I broke my knuckles to stop me from killing someone. I would much rather have hands that don't fully work than be in prison for life. (My state frowns upon the death penalty.) And the crazy thing is, I love the man I tried to kill. He's in my house right now.
So I failed that first draft. I did my best, but I fucked it up. I learned a few tricks, and I tried them out with my story, "Amber." I wrote it and got rejected a lot . . . until it was accepted at an online zine that paid me ten bucks and two bookmarks. It was later in my book, TALES OF QUESTIONABLE TASTE. I used those same principles to rework BLOOD. I got it right this time. It was published and greatly appreciated by the few who read it.
Here's the thing. I didn't really know what I was doing until I was done. I had no idea that it would be my Tom Piccirilli book. I'd read the Necromancer/Self books, and they are fucking great. You won't read anything like them in your life. Highly recommended. I had no idea how much they were an influence until I looked over the published books. And then I read The Midnight Road. And that turned out to be one of my top five favorite books of all time. It's so amazing, I will worship that one until the end of my days. When I read it maybe a couple of months after BLOOD came out, I knew what I'd done. This is my Pic book.
I'd thought I was doing my Andrew Vachss book.
I came to Vachss through Lansdale. I picked up a copy of Act of Love, and Vachss had done the intro. If he had those things to say about JRL, I knew I'd love his work. When I realized they considered each other brothers, I knew I had to read Vachss. I started with the first, FLOOD. I loved it. I loved the Burke stories, but I loved the non-Burke books even better. I learned that Vachss was a pro bono lawyer for abused kids. That shocked me. I was abused as a kid, so I immediately identified. I followed him into Protect, and I left for the same reasons. And this guy wasn't fucking around. He is blunt as a club. I learned so much from him about how to be a man than I ever learned from any of my father figures. He was the real thing, and it's rare to find the real thing on a quest for good. Most, as I used to be, were on a quest for revenge. Some were just bad fucks. But he helped set me on the right path, and he will never know it. I didn't view it as revenge anymore. I viewed it as being GOOD.
Two Trains Running is still my favorite to this day, But even though Vachss helped me find my way back from the disaster my life would have been if I kept hating everyone around me, I learned more from him as a writer. I learned that the things that are most important are implied. Unsaid. That's why Mickey Scarlet, when he listens to people, he waits. He actively listens,, which most characters don't. And when he's ready, he doesn't speak. HE ACTS. You can never truly trust the words someone says. They might sound great, but they're just words. What counts is ACTION. What do you actually do? That's the true definition of yourself. Or anyone. Fact. There is no argument.
When you get down to it, BLOOD really is my Pic book. I meant it to be my Vachss book, but I was close. Not quite right, but close. And right now, I'm working on something that will be my Lansdale book. If published. Maybe my friends Nick Day and Don Noble will be interested, but I don't count on that. If I turn in a turd, they should reject me.
All of the things I write wear their influences on their shoulders. I won't count the short story collections, but otherwise, you know what I mean. Influences are 100% OK. I hope that I make mine my own enough to show my Edward Lee-ish voice, but my own, too. When horrible shit happens, Brian Keene was right. I like to wink at my readers. Sometimes, though, I'm a vicious bastard. No laughs. No winks. No offense, Brian. You had me figured from day one, and very few people do. Respect.
If you learned something from this, cool. I doubt it, but there you go. Maybe that's what I should do with a possible Patreon. I doubt it. I'm not just happy-assholing my way through this shit. It might seem that way, but I put an insane and possibly stupid level of thought into what I show possible publishers. Take from that whatever you can. Good luck.
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