Wandering through a Random House with Grant and them

As I wander along on the path of the King of the night

I look to my left, with nothing there and so I look to my right.

Oh my, oh my, do you see what I see?

It is a Random House with a tree.

At first I sought a penguin, because I think they are cool,

But this Random House, has a grill and a big ass pool.

 

Yeah I did it, I made a poem.  Nothing cutting edge, but it did make me smile and giggle as I wrote it.  Alright so I have been tasked in my ongoing misadventures of trying to discover my inner writer, to find a publishing house that I might consider a good fit for me.  Besides I couldn't choose Little Brown and Company.  They went against my ethics.

 

Truth is that I am fearful of most publishers simply because I do not want to change the nature or the makeup of my story.  I want to keep my diversity of people, cultures, and beings.  I do not want to change my world just because someone says it will sell better if I make my genre a little more traditional.

But I looked through a list of Publishers, and I couldn’t decide.  So I picked an author who interested me in the fact that not only did he write a little non-traditional genres, but he kind of set the model for things that are now considered traditional.  Stephen King was my choice in who I would follow to make my decision.

In truth I might have said no to this one, but I thought that maybe, if I chose someone big, and if I got lucky, I might be able to do something for others, that I never seemed to get as a kid who wanted to read.  I wanted to give them a hero who was not a traditional cookie cutter type.  Not the asshole anti-hero type, but a character who was like them in some way. 

Random house is huge, and get to a large audience, so my heroes could have a large stage to prance around on, and show the world that the mold for the hero does not require a magic formula of how they should be, but the formula of how people can look at them and their struggles.

I write what my mind tells me and I say what my heart says to say. I spent so much time trying to find a place to fit in in my life that I forgot at times what it meant to be me.  I know not the comical ending to the post that you might expect but it is the truth.  I wrote a world of many different cultures, ethnicities, genders and even races.  Not everyone is human in my world, nor are all the humans the good guys by default, nor are they all evil by their human nature.  Checks and Balances like the government are what I threw in.

So if I had a book published, I would want it on a big scale, so that everyone could find a character to love and say, you know that character is my hero! He/she was awesome and the world is cool.  It is big and drags me in so much so, I wished I lived in a world like that.

As I said before, I think that people should be allowed to fail or succeed based on their own merit, not because of their skin color, gender, sexual orientation, traditions, or religious practices.  I wrote characters in the story who are from all walks of life, and threw in what I thought to be some interesting twists that causes them to asks uncomfortable questions of themselves.

For my dream cast of characters, I want a big stage.  I think that Random house could be that stage, but then again I might be happy with something small like Donald M. Grant Publisher, who is a smaller company, but also has Stephen King as a writer in their ranks.  They Published the Dark Tower Series, which is an alternate look at a world of science fiction, and fantasy with some spaghetti western thrown in there.

I wrote a world that will not completely fit into any genre all on its own, but I hope that one day I can watch it either succeed as a change of the normal pace or genres.  Right now I am just dreaming and the world of being a successful writer is not the closest thing on my mind at the moment.  But I know I would be quite overjoyed if I were to see my work in a hardcover print run.  I might be so happy I would stand up and slap your momma.  Because my momma was a saint, and she owned a .357 magnum hand cannon.  I don’t know your mom, so yeah, no guilt.