Let’s start with the Twitter stuff, since I put it first in the title.
#pitmad is what the cool kids call it. And the uncool adults. Like me. Anyway, it’s this Twitter thing for writers that happens quarterly. (That’s once every 3 months, dumb-dumb.) Basically everyone who ever wrote a book–no matter how good or awful–wants to get a literary agent, so they all pitch their manuscripts on a tweet and see what happens. More or less. Mine looked like this:
I got some retweets (which is what you want), but no likes from agents (which is what you really want). I spent too much time on my phone yesterday because of it. Lost time I’ll never get back. That’s kind of how I feel about it at this moment, having not gotten the interest I was hoping for.
It’s part of being a writer–the rejection–but it still sucks. Not like a kick in the gut, but like when you’re a kid and you keep asking if you’re there yet. That’s how I feel. The book is done, actual writers have read it and said, “You gotta try to get this published.” But, so far, to no avail. So I’m a little salty, I guess.
Now, if I had gotten an offer, or at least someone’s attention, sure, I’d be like, “It was awesome, guys!” But that’s not what happened. And that’s fine. Everyone’s path is different, and all that shit.
Moving forward, if anyone reading this would like to read my manuscript, I can email you a word.doc or Drive link, or whatever. I’d like more people I don’t know (IRL) to read it, ya know? Get feedback from someone you don’t have to carpool with and have that uncomfortable moment:
“Did you read my book?”
“What did you think?”
HAHAHAHAHA! You can simply say, “Wasn’t for me, homie,” and I will not be offended. You can give me simple feedback, or notes on character development/authenticity, plot holes, or anything that makes you go, I’m not sure what you’re trying to do here….
There’s a (slightly) better description of my book Switchers on my website. If you want to read all, or even some–I’ll take notes on the first few pages, for sure!!!–then email me and I’ll be happy to reply with as much of it as you’d like to read. No commitments. If you don’t end up reading it, you don’t have to worry about angry follow ups from me. I’m happy when someone reads it, I don’t really care too much if they don’t–for whatever reason.
OK, I’m done with that.
If you listen to Creative Ops then, first of all: Thank You.
If you don’t, then all you really need to know is that it’s a podcast for creative people, by creative people. I talked to an award winning cannabis farmer, an Academy Award winning visual effects artist, musicians, novelists, painters, a festival organizer, business owners, and more.
Check out my new sponsor: IRIE Kitchen!
Here’s the last few episodes:
I went to two different coffee shops last week. The End.
Kiddiiiiiinnng…. The first one was a local shop. I went in, talked to the manager, and found out: he’s super creative. He makes animations, sculpts, makes woodcuts. And he’s planning on quitting his job soon to do creative shit full time. So. Cool. Makes me glad to see people gettin it! Gives me hope too, I suppose.
I went into a different coffee shop (a big chain…) and had a different experience. I ordered a coffee (duh) and tried to pay with a $100 bill. Why? Because I’m a baller, my life is dope, and I do dope shit. That’s why. Ahem…
So I hand it out and she says, “We don’t take anything over $20.”
So apparently, corporate coffee doesn’t accept American money. I thought, Must be so they have to keep less change on hand, so I asked, Why the policy?
“Someone ripped off one of the stores with a fake-hundred once, so now we don’t take them.”
Apparently no one told them people counterfeit smaller bills too.
He’s always been a smart cookie, my dad. To the point that it was sometimes frustrating to stay in a conversation with him. But now that he’s in his 70s, we have conversation bits like this:
“I got a new sponsor for the podcast, dad.”
“Who is it?”
“IRIE Kitchen. They make organic Caribbean street food.”
“They had a fried fish sandwich special last weekend.”
“I don’t think of seafood when I think Caribbean food. But I guess those island are close to water.”
Yes, dad. Islands are usually close to water. Glad to see you’re staying sharp.
(Don’t worry, he won’t read this, LOL. (And he’s doing fine.))
Little old school Looney Tunes throwback.
That’s it, kiddies! I got blogs to write so I can get money for coffee. Speaking of which, if you’d like to support my writing and/or podcasting, I need drink money. Buy me a coffee?
Christopher Tallon writes, podcasts, and…wait a second. Are you actually reading this? High five! Follow me here: