My literary agent terminated our contract—doesn't think my new manuscript will sell. Excerpts from the manuscript are getting rejected from magazines. Should I bother finishing my second book?
Dear Andrew, I wondered how it felt for you when you wrote those two words, “my wife”? I’m so happy for you both!
I’m actually reading “Tattoos on the Heart” right now! And I love Brian Doyle. Been following him for years and was so devastated when he died so young.
For myself, I find stories easier to read and learn from. I suspect that I didn’t pursue any advanced degrees bc I don’t have the patience to read dry technical writing, although the PSY101 textbook wasn’t too bad. At this stage of my life, and having more books to read than I may have time left to read them all, it has to be something I really want to read.
Your first book spoke to me because it was your story, and an opportunity to get to know you better since we were in the same ChIME cohort.
Not sure how helpful this is regarding your current manuscript, although I think you’re on to something when you talk about the reverberations of a wounded man. (I can think of one recent past President whose woundedness has definitely reverberated.) Can you collect and share stories of woundedness and how it’s being healed? I would guess that you would have some of your own stories as well; no one gets far in life without a few scars. Even Jesus has scars, and look how his wounds have reverberated.
Hey Lori, glad you caught that :) it was a thrill to write "my wife"! Thanks for noticing. And for your idea to incorporate other peoples' stories of woundedness and healing, what a beautiful idea, now the second or third time someone has suggested that. Following the model of Walking to Listen (weaving in other peoples' stories with my own) could be a good way to go. "The wound is the medicine," as my mentor Darryl often says.
You have an ability to view a situation and then go deep, extracting the derivations of resultant feelings. I enjoy how you circle an issue, then settle into base truth options. There has to be a way to explore masculinity in a way that fulfills your creative fires and is commercially successful. I would love reading a book of stories that reveal a man’s evolution to greater expression of feeling, leading the reader to a more full understanding of self. You’re there. Now to bring us along. Keep writing!
As always Randy, your reflection really lifts and fires me up. Thank you for reading, thank you for letting me know, the blessings reverberate throughout the web, pinging me, pinging you, back to me, us all.
Firstly, I relate to your metaphor of getting high off my own supply and coming back down when others try to tell me they’ve cracked the code. Some is fine but more is worse.
Secondly, the comment section is spot on. You are an amazing story teller. Your writing is good but I enjoyed WTL mainly because of your honesty and vulnerability. A book on masculinity would be important but I would rather be immersed in how you experience masculinity in your role as a teacher, a partner, a religious figure, etc.
Are you ever intimidated by trying to tell another story like WTL? One that is as good or “better” according to the marketing heads and literary gatekeepers from hell? Because now you’re here, growing roots, which must feel like it’s own adventure....but I imagine the pacing of walking across America vs living at home might be difficult to capture or promote to an agent. As if writing a SECOND novel wasn’t hard enough, it must be tough to muster the necessary self belief every time you hit submit to a new publisher regardless of the outcome.
Thank you once again for modeling vulnerability here in the courtyard. Letting go, grieving, never seems to be as easy or as straightforward as we want it to be.
Jacob, I always treasure your reflections. Considerate. Precise and penetrating. They always make me think a little deeper, invite me a little further. Thank you for taking the time to write them. Still chewing on your last comment, your question-cum-writing prompt. I look forward to diving into that one.
And yes, I am intimidated, at this point, by the prospect of writing another book. I think at first, when I started writing this second book, I was so full of conviction I didn't think much about it, wasn't scared. But slowly, as the reality of the new difficulties presented themselves, I grew more and more, not afraid exactly, but maybe just humbled. Humbled by the realities and invited into a more mature posture, one that includes the experiences of rejection I'm now going through. Getting humbled is good, though. I might not choose it for myself, but it's always the right choice, and the universe chooses well for me when I wouldn't be able to choose for myself. I can feel how these experiences are honing me, grounding me. And yes, challenging me to continue believing, even when conditions are difficult, to keep letting go, letting be.
Love your line: "Letting go, grieving, never seems to be as easy or as straightforward as we want it to be." Amen.
As a man myself with a history of “telling it as I thought it to be and/or needs to be,” I have become much more interested in the truth of a good story. Here’s a challenge: write a juicy novel or shorter novella about a man who grapples with inner changes, inner visions, and the enormous challenge of patiently, tenderly, engaging this world as it unfolds. Maybe become a maker of origami cranes that somehow tells through the creation of all these folds, an inner and outer transformation. This is more metaphor than specific suggestion. Best wishes, David 🏮
Thanks for letting me know, David. And for your suggestions as well. It may well be that a juicy novel is in the works, perhaps after I let go of some of this already-written material. And what a lovely idea, the maker of origami cranes. I get what you're saying and will take that into my creative wondering. So appreciate your presence here.
Dear Andrew, Oh, Man, you will find a way to write this book. I love the raw truth and questioning in your writing (always), as well as reading all the feedback and encouragement you’re getting, and I agree, you are such a gifted storyteller/writer. Recently, I came upon a story about a writer who was having a similar experience, a manuscript they had been working a long time (wish I could remember the source) that just wasn’t hitting the mark (feedback from others, multiple rejections) and it seems they tossed the first draft and started writing again, and while the first draft wasn’t used directly, it was absolutely essential to enable the book that followed. Thank you. <3
Thanks for the encouragement, Jerielle! Yes, what a gift to buoyed by my readers here. So grateful. The anecdote definitely resonates. Like every footstep, every draft gets you to the next footstep and eventually you end up at the ocean.
This speaks to my soul: To put it plainly: if men are unwell, the consequences of our unwellness reverberate through the ecosystem of our relationships, impacting others in ways so profound as to defy quantification. How can we possibly quantify the impact that even just a single unwell man can have on his community? And how can we possibly measure his own suffering, lived out in the isolation that is the price he has to pay to be the man he believes he’s supposed to be, never vulnerable, which is precisely what we always are as human beings: ever-vulnerable, ever exposed to the fleshy mess of living in these mortal precarious bodies, these tender susceptible minds, in the midst of ancient invisible networks of astonishing generational traumas, all while the Earth goes through one of her cataclysmic transformations. Don’t you feel those feelings, fella.
Thanks, Bonnie! And yes, I have read "Man Enough." I so appreciated the work Justin Baldoni is doing there to translate some very entrenched and often unconscious stories that seem to be swirling through so many of us. And he does it with courage and authentic expression of himself. I admire his daring. Blessed man, blessed book.
I'll read anything that you write. Please keep going! I love your observations on life.
Yes!! Keep writing🔥 !!!!
Oh, Man. Hell of a title! We need this book.
I meant to comment on this earlier but it slipped and was just reminded. Yes, it finds home in me! Yes, you should share your writings with the world!
Scott Galloway is currently writing a book on masculinity. Christine Emba recently wrote this (https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2023/07/10/christine-emba-masculinity-new-model/). It feels like this topic is having a moment. So glad to see you publishing some excerpts here. Let it rip!
Dear Andrew, I wondered how it felt for you when you wrote those two words, “my wife”? I’m so happy for you both!
I’m actually reading “Tattoos on the Heart” right now! And I love Brian Doyle. Been following him for years and was so devastated when he died so young.
For myself, I find stories easier to read and learn from. I suspect that I didn’t pursue any advanced degrees bc I don’t have the patience to read dry technical writing, although the PSY101 textbook wasn’t too bad. At this stage of my life, and having more books to read than I may have time left to read them all, it has to be something I really want to read.
Your first book spoke to me because it was your story, and an opportunity to get to know you better since we were in the same ChIME cohort.
Not sure how helpful this is regarding your current manuscript, although I think you’re on to something when you talk about the reverberations of a wounded man. (I can think of one recent past President whose woundedness has definitely reverberated.) Can you collect and share stories of woundedness and how it’s being healed? I would guess that you would have some of your own stories as well; no one gets far in life without a few scars. Even Jesus has scars, and look how his wounds have reverberated.
Hey Lori, glad you caught that :) it was a thrill to write "my wife"! Thanks for noticing. And for your idea to incorporate other peoples' stories of woundedness and healing, what a beautiful idea, now the second or third time someone has suggested that. Following the model of Walking to Listen (weaving in other peoples' stories with my own) could be a good way to go. "The wound is the medicine," as my mentor Darryl often says.
You're such an amazing storyteller. Keep at it and thank you for sharing, Andrew!
Thanks, Ariana!
Hi Andrew,
You have an ability to view a situation and then go deep, extracting the derivations of resultant feelings. I enjoy how you circle an issue, then settle into base truth options. There has to be a way to explore masculinity in a way that fulfills your creative fires and is commercially successful. I would love reading a book of stories that reveal a man’s evolution to greater expression of feeling, leading the reader to a more full understanding of self. You’re there. Now to bring us along. Keep writing!
As always Randy, your reflection really lifts and fires me up. Thank you for reading, thank you for letting me know, the blessings reverberate throughout the web, pinging me, pinging you, back to me, us all.
The man who walks for us (men)
Always with you
Firstly, I relate to your metaphor of getting high off my own supply and coming back down when others try to tell me they’ve cracked the code. Some is fine but more is worse.
Secondly, the comment section is spot on. You are an amazing story teller. Your writing is good but I enjoyed WTL mainly because of your honesty and vulnerability. A book on masculinity would be important but I would rather be immersed in how you experience masculinity in your role as a teacher, a partner, a religious figure, etc.
Are you ever intimidated by trying to tell another story like WTL? One that is as good or “better” according to the marketing heads and literary gatekeepers from hell? Because now you’re here, growing roots, which must feel like it’s own adventure....but I imagine the pacing of walking across America vs living at home might be difficult to capture or promote to an agent. As if writing a SECOND novel wasn’t hard enough, it must be tough to muster the necessary self belief every time you hit submit to a new publisher regardless of the outcome.
Thank you once again for modeling vulnerability here in the courtyard. Letting go, grieving, never seems to be as easy or as straightforward as we want it to be.
Jacob, I always treasure your reflections. Considerate. Precise and penetrating. They always make me think a little deeper, invite me a little further. Thank you for taking the time to write them. Still chewing on your last comment, your question-cum-writing prompt. I look forward to diving into that one.
And yes, I am intimidated, at this point, by the prospect of writing another book. I think at first, when I started writing this second book, I was so full of conviction I didn't think much about it, wasn't scared. But slowly, as the reality of the new difficulties presented themselves, I grew more and more, not afraid exactly, but maybe just humbled. Humbled by the realities and invited into a more mature posture, one that includes the experiences of rejection I'm now going through. Getting humbled is good, though. I might not choose it for myself, but it's always the right choice, and the universe chooses well for me when I wouldn't be able to choose for myself. I can feel how these experiences are honing me, grounding me. And yes, challenging me to continue believing, even when conditions are difficult, to keep letting go, letting be.
Love your line: "Letting go, grieving, never seems to be as easy or as straightforward as we want it to be." Amen.
Hi, Andrew,
I thoroughly enjoyed your first book.
As a man myself with a history of “telling it as I thought it to be and/or needs to be,” I have become much more interested in the truth of a good story. Here’s a challenge: write a juicy novel or shorter novella about a man who grapples with inner changes, inner visions, and the enormous challenge of patiently, tenderly, engaging this world as it unfolds. Maybe become a maker of origami cranes that somehow tells through the creation of all these folds, an inner and outer transformation. This is more metaphor than specific suggestion. Best wishes, David 🏮
Thanks for letting me know, David. And for your suggestions as well. It may well be that a juicy novel is in the works, perhaps after I let go of some of this already-written material. And what a lovely idea, the maker of origami cranes. I get what you're saying and will take that into my creative wondering. So appreciate your presence here.
Andrew, have you met this poem:
For who in his own backyard
Has not seen a smiling secret
He cannot name
For the Bard was sober when he wrote
This world of fact we love
Is unsubstantial stuff
All the rest is silence
On the other side of the wall
And the silence ripeness
And the ripeness, all.
I believe it is by Auden.
Best, David 🏮
Dear Andrew, Oh, Man, you will find a way to write this book. I love the raw truth and questioning in your writing (always), as well as reading all the feedback and encouragement you’re getting, and I agree, you are such a gifted storyteller/writer. Recently, I came upon a story about a writer who was having a similar experience, a manuscript they had been working a long time (wish I could remember the source) that just wasn’t hitting the mark (feedback from others, multiple rejections) and it seems they tossed the first draft and started writing again, and while the first draft wasn’t used directly, it was absolutely essential to enable the book that followed. Thank you. <3
Thanks for the encouragement, Jerielle! Yes, what a gift to buoyed by my readers here. So grateful. The anecdote definitely resonates. Like every footstep, every draft gets you to the next footstep and eventually you end up at the ocean.
This speaks to my soul: To put it plainly: if men are unwell, the consequences of our unwellness reverberate through the ecosystem of our relationships, impacting others in ways so profound as to defy quantification. How can we possibly quantify the impact that even just a single unwell man can have on his community? And how can we possibly measure his own suffering, lived out in the isolation that is the price he has to pay to be the man he believes he’s supposed to be, never vulnerable, which is precisely what we always are as human beings: ever-vulnerable, ever exposed to the fleshy mess of living in these mortal precarious bodies, these tender susceptible minds, in the midst of ancient invisible networks of astonishing generational traumas, all while the Earth goes through one of her cataclysmic transformations. Don’t you feel those feelings, fella.
Thanks for being here, Jorge.
Thanks, Bonnie! And yes, I have read "Man Enough." I so appreciated the work Justin Baldoni is doing there to translate some very entrenched and often unconscious stories that seem to be swirling through so many of us. And he does it with courage and authentic expression of himself. I admire his daring. Blessed man, blessed book.