Institutions and I don't seem to get along. I don't know why.
I don't think of myself as a troublemaker, or an agitator, or an anarchist, but somehow, time and again, I find myself alienated from whatever organization or structure I'm trying to be a part of--cast out or abandoned or just annoyed enough to go it alone.
It happened to me in high school, when my small cadre of friends and I got fed up with the direction our "Class Night" theatre production was going, and struck out on our own to rewrite the "Wizard of Oz" spoof into a just-barely-school-acceptable version of "The Rocky Horror Picture Show." It happened to me in college, where for some reason I can't remember, I decided to write and produce and direct a play of my own, which was something One Didn't Do in that particular program (back then, anyway). And it's happened to me over and over.
I couldn't get my plays produced by theatre companies, so I joined up with (another) small cadre of friends to form our own company. When that inevitably fell apart, I produced on my own, for as long as I could stomach it (= 1 play).
Now, here I am in my late 40s, careening down the hill towards 50. Having given up on trying to please various theatrical gatekeepers, I've gone back to my first love and am writing fiction. And lo and behold...I can't get anyone to publish it. Once again, I am left to make things up on my own.
So...fine. Good. I should know better, by now. So here it is: Cool for Cats: A slightly quirky, slightly snarky, more-sentimental-than-it-thinks-it-is mystery novel, from me to you. It's a little bit Long Island, a little bit Atlanta, a little bit Jazz, a little bit old-fashioned-detective novel. I think you'll like the characters--I hope you do, anyway, because I'm working on the sequel.
Paperback is out now; Kindle version is on the way. Give it a try, won't you? And let me know what you think. After all, you won't have to contact my people or get through any gatekeepers to get a message through. It's just me.
I don't think of myself as a troublemaker, or an agitator, or an anarchist, but somehow, time and again, I find myself alienated from whatever organization or structure I'm trying to be a part of--cast out or abandoned or just annoyed enough to go it alone.
It happened to me in high school, when my small cadre of friends and I got fed up with the direction our "Class Night" theatre production was going, and struck out on our own to rewrite the "Wizard of Oz" spoof into a just-barely-school-acceptable version of "The Rocky Horror Picture Show." It happened to me in college, where for some reason I can't remember, I decided to write and produce and direct a play of my own, which was something One Didn't Do in that particular program (back then, anyway). And it's happened to me over and over.
I couldn't get my plays produced by theatre companies, so I joined up with (another) small cadre of friends to form our own company. When that inevitably fell apart, I produced on my own, for as long as I could stomach it (= 1 play).
Now, here I am in my late 40s, careening down the hill towards 50. Having given up on trying to please various theatrical gatekeepers, I've gone back to my first love and am writing fiction. And lo and behold...I can't get anyone to publish it. Once again, I am left to make things up on my own.
So...fine. Good. I should know better, by now. So here it is: Cool for Cats: A slightly quirky, slightly snarky, more-sentimental-than-it-thinks-it-is mystery novel, from me to you. It's a little bit Long Island, a little bit Atlanta, a little bit Jazz, a little bit old-fashioned-detective novel. I think you'll like the characters--I hope you do, anyway, because I'm working on the sequel.
Paperback is out now; Kindle version is on the way. Give it a try, won't you? And let me know what you think. After all, you won't have to contact my people or get through any gatekeepers to get a message through. It's just me.
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