No, I'm not writing a book

I was talking to a club member the other day and they said, with bright eyes and genuine excitement: “I read last week’s newsletter—so… you’re writing a book?!”

Going back over what I wrote then, I can see why it registered that way. I admit that saying “I’m trying to learn how to write books by interviewing other people who have done it extremely well”, then yes, that does sound like a significant hint is being dropped. And even though I also explicitly said I wasn’t ready to do such a thing yet, I appreciate that “I’m not ready” is not actually the same as denying the rumor entirely.

I suspect it came off with a touch of mystery, a little coy.

But, no, I’m not writing a book. 

Not yet, anyway. 

Truth is, I have a terrible history of trying to write books.

To be more accurate, I have a terrible habit of writing proposals for books that never turn into Actual Books. My attention, which has never been the greatest, gets fired up behind the initial concept of a full-length treatment… but by the time I’m finished writing the idea up, maybe a sample chapter and an outline, I’m bored of the idea.

There are a couple of these short-circuits that I remember in particular. One of them was an idea for a book about how our relationship with robots has changed over time. It featured cameos from a wide range of characters in popular culture and in robotics, including the obscure Czech author Karel Čapek, the insatiable capitalist egghead Jeff Bezos, and the former California governor Arnold Schwarzenegger. 

Another proposal that never made it out the door was about the long and fascinating history of fake stuff. I wanted to look at everything from copycat fashion to pirated music to counterfeit phones sold by hardware hackers in China. It featured a digressive chapter about Mark Twain’s obsession with a typesetting invention called the Paige Compositor (a machine that actually bankrupted him) and an angry exploration of the explosion of fake news.

But, if writing a book is a long distance race, then each time I got to the end of a proposal, I felt like I’d used up all my juice on the training and had nothing more left to give. My muscles ached and my mind hurt, and I simply couldn’t face the idea of lining up for the actual marathon. My agent at the time must have been driven mad.

But it’s still an ambition, absolutely… when I have time to let the right idea flourish. 

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There are, maybe, some cultivating steps happening already.

My professional energy right now is split in a couple of ways: One is advising Locus magazine, the journal of science fiction and fantasy and horror publishing. SFF fans may be aware of the Locus Awards, which have been great at highlighting breakthrough talent for more than 50 years; but if you haven’t heard of Locus, then think of it as a more-organic sort of Publisher’s Weekly that’s focused on genre fiction. It’s been fun to put my experiences as a publisher and media builder to use for them, and to find ways to support the team and promote amazing, original-thinking authors. If getting involved with this venerable Bay Area non-profit is of interest to you, then please hit me up! 

The second step towards more writing is simply trying to get my mojo back at the keyboard. That’s mainly being channeled through writing long features: right now I’m currently on assignment with Wired magazine for a substantial investigative piece that should appear later in the year. 

It’s a crime story of sorts that I stumbled across and just tickled my brain. There’s some sinister material in there, as well as vaguely bananas activities. I can’t really say much more without scooping myself, but it’s been fun to report it out, and very pleasing to put words on the page again. I can feel the flow coming back.

Anyway, the answer to the question is No, I’m not writing a book. 

But I’ve just read this back, and it still kind of sounds like I am.

Damn.

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The somebody who asked me about writing a book was none other than Lauren Markham, author of our very first reading club pick, A Map of Future Ruins (known to my Factory Records-inspired spreadsheets as CUR-001.) 

She asked me at the launch of her new work: a fantastic new novella-length essay called Immemorial, from Transit Books. In it, she’s wrestling with the realities of climate change and searching for a word to describe the grief you feel for something that hasn’t disappeared yet but will be wiped out as our environment collapses. Highly recommended.

My suggestions for the word in question, according to my hastily-scribbled notes while munching on nibbles at Lauren’s launch party: Futuregeist, Losstalgia and Pre-grief. 

Hmm. Perhaps my writing mojo needs a bit more time to come back.

⌘

Two last links before I go. I mentioned Karel Čapek earlier (he’s the guy who coined the word “robot” in 1920.) Turns out my old chum Ed Harris, a playwright in the UK had a radio adaptation of Čapek’s War With The Newts broadcast on the BBC back in December. Ed’s got the incredible ability to shift from deadly serious to utterly silly in a heartbeat, and I’m eager to listen.

Finally, I wanted to share an interview with another friend, David Wolman, who is both a great writer and now a shepherd of other people’s work with his Story Bureau enterprise. He says: “My mentor in college, the author and journalist Ron Powers, helped me to see that obsessively observing the world and people in it could be channeled into something resembling a career.”

It’s a reminder that there are great tales out there to be told. 

Onward!

Bobbie