By Fred Myers, AAEA Honorary Member and Lifetime Achievement Award Winner
Here’s the question: Considering the story rich environment in which AAEA members work, why haven’t at least a few members been motivated to write a work of fiction? As far as I know, only two others have — Charles Johnson and Emory Jones.
Three months ago, my novel, Goodbye Akron, was published, a “first” for me after thirty-one years of writing about agriculture. I’m proud of that because I was fully responsible for the entire project. I also had to hold myself accountable for the results.
You might say I was on the outside looking in. Conceiving and writing a novel of as many as 100,000 words is a world away from writing magazine feature stories or marketing brochures. Being exposed to new and unfamiliar concerns and methods creates a lot of uncertainty.
In fiction, it’s up to you to create the story line, then imagine the characters and bring them to life. Everything between those critically important first and last few pages must be carefully researched, sequenced, and paced. After the completed draft comes repeated edits/rewrites. Once you arrive at the final manuscript, you must decide how the book will be published and marketed.
Unlike many authors, I didn’t create or use a plan, pattern, or even an outline. It just sneaked up on me, not at home, but in Nova Scotia where during a vacation stop, I had a brief chat with a tourist. Nine mornings later in our travel trailer, a sudden impulse caused me to get up before dawn and begin writing. Using that incident as a starting point, I didn’t stop until after I’d written 4,000 words, the first fiction I’d ever written. Day after day, the words kept coming. Within a month I’d completed a draft version of 108,000 words, roughly equivalent to a 400-page book.
I was barely halfway through writing that book when I got an idea for a second novel. The draft of that book eventually topped out at 97,000 words and unlike the first book, it connected with ag because the story involved a ranching family in Montana.
I was surprised at how much I’d learned. The draft of the second book entitled Goodbye Akron, was so much better that I decided it would be my first published novel. Only later did I find out that beginning authors often publish their second or third novel rather than their first one.
What startled me most was that this wasn’t like the old days of space limits, deadlines, facts to verify, and editors to please. I could make up the story, create characters, make them into whatever I wanted them to be. I could write freely, even foolishly at times, and use however many paragraphs or pages were necessary. It was like driving down a highway of boundless creativity.
Through it all, I was conscious of almost automatically using the solid and disciplined foundation of virtues that ag journalism had demanded of me. In moving upward from there, however, I was faced with an increasingly stiffer and different kind of challenge. After stalling out on the fourth edit/rewrite of Goodbye Akron, I decided I needed a professional punch in the gut.
I hired Michael Garrett, whose impressive credentials included serving as editor and publisher of Stephen King’s first book, to review Goodbye Akron. From him I received an impressive and invaluable critique of thirty-two single-spaced pages. It was almost a college course in itself. His conclusion: I definitely had the talent and if I followed his many suggestions, I would see an “amazing transformation” in my work. His prediction was dead accurate.
Nine more edits/rewrites later, Goodbye Akron was ready for publishing. After a lot of research, I decided to submit my manuscript to a hybrid publisher. That’s a sort of halfway publish-on-demand point between self-publishing and a full service commercial publisher.
From the possible hybrids, I selected BookLocker in St. Petersburg, Florida. I sent them the manuscript, they liked what they saw, and we signed a contract. That’s when the learning curve went straight up with one unnerving incident after another to be reckoned with. Eventually, however, I managed to make it over the hump.
I can’t describe how it felt to finally be able to hold the book not in the form of all those scribbled over pages in a three-ring binder, but 372 perfectly printed pages bound to and surrounded by a four-color cover. I can’t glance at it without feeling proud.
Although there’s much more ahead, I already have enough confidence to share with other AAEA members what’s required to move from that proverbial blank sheet of paper to a published novel.
If there’s enough interest among members, the ideal way to serve that interest would be to form an AAEA Special Interest Group (SIG). If there isn’t enough interest to make that happen, I’d be willing to share one-on-one with members. Even now, I can imagine the writing and publishing of books, whether fact or fiction, becoming a significant component in the AAEA’s total makeup.
If nothing else, I can promise you this much: The feelings that roll over you while writing a novel will be unlike anything you’ve ever experienced and likely more than you’ve ever imagined. To stretch that point even farther, surely there’s someone in the AAEA ranks capable of equaling or perhaps even exceeding the success of the book, The Bridges of Madison County.
For now, I suggest you go to my website fredmyersauthor.com and have a look. I hope you buy a copy of Goodbye Akron and have a good read. That’s the best way for you to understand what I’ve attempted to explain here. A part of the website is a column I’m writing under the general theme of Country Boy Logic. I invite you to sign up so you can read it regularly. All columns, however, are archived.
Even if you’re only slightly interested in writing a book I’d like to hear from you. Give me a shout at 256-740-1142 or email [email protected]