Inspired Confliction

The closer I get to the end of the schoolyear, the more excited I get, and the more worried I get as well. It's the job thing. There's not really anything else to get worried about. After everything is turned in for classes, I go home and do a last-minute job hunt. The editors from the Tyler Morning Telegraph asked that I drive there (the Rose Capital of Texas) on Thursday for an interview . . . "Drive over, we'll take you to lunch and we'll only keep you for four or five hours." That's got to be a good sign, right? I talked to the managing editor for a half hour on the phone, and he was quite enthusiastic that I wanted to do cops and then could move into health. The health writer has been there for like 50 years or something and is looking to retire soon.

I feel fairly confident that they will make me an offer. I feel fairly confident it's going to be hard to accept. If I can ever get in touch with one of the managing editors at the Star-T, I can see if there's any chance of getting a job there. Lee said he could get me started as a correspondent--freelance work, essentially--at about $600 for a 15-inch feature and $100-$200 for news stories. If I could assure I get a couple stories a week and figure something out with health benefits, that could be a real possibility.

The thing is that being in Tyler would be a pain. For a while now I've been resigned to the fact that I probably won't end up in Fort Worth, but the closer the prospect gets, the more I really don't want that to happen. I don't want to have to try and move the horses to a barn as good as the one they're at now. I don't want to try to find an entire apartment to rent, and to buy all the bullshit that comes with living on one's own. I don't want to see Dan and Julie every once in a while. Even if I have weekends off to go home, Dan will be working and so will Julie. If I have days off in the middle of the week, which may be more likely, then they'll have work AND school. If I go to Tyler, it would have to be for a year and a half or two years.

Julie shouldn't have to babysit Topper anymore. And Dan and I are sick of trying to be in the same place at the same time. He graduates in a few months, and then he'll have to get a job. The likelihood that we'll get jobs in the same city are really slim if the city is anything smaller than Fort Worth.

Obviously, I only have one choice. I have to get an agent and get my novel sold and get a nice fat advance.

I don't know how my parents will take it if I decide to stay in Fort Worth and turn down a steady job in Tyler. I don't know how Dan and Julie will take it if I turn down being able to help them out in order to go to Tyler. I know I'd rather be in Fort Worth. I know I can get by on less money there because I'll have less to pay for--sharing an apartment with Julie would be significantly cheaper than trying to furnish and live in an apartment of my own in another town.

I'm absolutely conflicted.

On the other hand, at least I'm inspired. One of Ellen's book agent friends came into class and was talking about the process of getting a book published. She was talking nonfiction, but the more she talked, the more absolutely confident I felt that I could do this. As soon as I get established somewhere I'm gonna start searching for an agent. Wouldn't that be a riot? I'd be a rock star. Even if I got a smallish advance, if it let me live in Fort Worth, work part-time and write, that's all I need.

Earlier this week I ran across some writing I'd done back before college, my senior year of high school. At home I have two massive binders with printed copies of tons of stuff I've written, and I can go back through everything regularly. Since my parents have moved, all of that is in a box in storage somewhere with the rest of my books. I haven't read anything that I'd written just for fun in a long time. It's an experience. Some of the stuff was downright silly, but there were surprising good bits that I could hardly believe had come out of my head.

The combination of the agent and my old stuff made me feel like writing again. I haven't really done anything on my draft since coming up here. I decided I need to relocate my story--it would make more sense to set it here in the Boston area, actually. The Dallas area would have worked, but this is better. And I've done a lot of reading of people I really admire, so now I want to change my writing style a bit. It would be hard to change it too much--my voice is apparent from ten miles away with almost everything I've done--but I'm looking forward to it all. I'm quite serious in that I will get this out.

Also, if you ask me what I'm working on, I'll give you the same old answer: I can't tell you. It's quite silly and superstitious of me, but no one may ever know what I'm working on until it hits stands. Yes, I'm afraid of failure.

Just a few more weeks.