Why am I so Angry?

That is a question that is painful to not only answer but hurtful to even try and answer. As they say in the gym, however, "No pain, no gain."

Right off the top of my head, over 11 years ago, I sat at my keyboard shortly after my 40th birthday and I contemplated. I said to myself, that many thoughts have passed through my bipolar mind over all these years and some of the some would excite, inspire and otherwise move many around the world. I was now about half way through my life. I vowed to spend the second half recording some of those provocative ideas.

I thought long and hard as to how I was going to share my mind with the world. Poetry? Maybe. I'd dabbled in that since as long as I could remember. I needed something though that many people would read and poetry just didn't seem to fit the bill. A journal or diary might do the trick but then suddenly it came to me. It was obvious really. I concluded that I would now commence on a bestselling novel.

So there I sat, 40-years-old and change, a man who had written plenty but had published nothing and was actually nutty enough to think I really could only write something publishable but a book that a lot of people would buy.

With no plot, no outline or any other plan, I started writing. Actually, there were two aspects of this story that were mapped out. The narrative was going to have bloody unique violence and detailed descriptions of meaningful sexual encounters. That was all that was in my head when I got started. Everything else just happened as I continued to write.

Let's fast forward 11 years up till today. After 8 some-odd years off submissions, few if any of the so-called literary expert agents mostly in Manhattan have expressed even the slightest bit of interest. Yet of the 30-50 people to whom I have shown this book, every single one of them tells me they could not put it down. Some were family, some friends but most were strangers I met on the street or in book stores. Yet there is nothing.

I'm confused. I'm frustrated and yes I am damn angry. Maybe the story isn't as compelling as I think. Or is the ultimate challenge to government it poses just too hot to handle for the mainstream literary society. I am an objective reasonable man. I would not have slayed on this 11-year journey unless I thought there was really something here.

Are you interested in the biggest "Fuck you" to the assumed sovereignty over you. Email me at andyweitz3@gmail.com and I'll send you a sample.

Anger

What am I so angry about? Well, among other things, I have writtten a compelling story that connects to a vast audience. The novel is entitiled Hardball and the sex, violence and overall intensity will make the blood race through your body and sizzle your spine. The audience attracted is that classic 4-corner demographic. Men will stimulated by the unique and vivid blood throughout the story. Women will be inspired by description of the meaningful relationship, sexual and otherwise, between the two protagonisits. Young people will be provoked by the direct challenge to a powerful authority. Older folks will be comforted by the underlying baseball theme of the story.

I am mad because I have been actively trying to publish this 64,088 word novel for nearly ten years and have barely gotten a bite. No agent is interested and believe me, I've submitted to a lot of agents. There are, of course, a lot of possibilites as to why this has occurred.

First of all, the nature of the publishing business these days is that one could have written the greatest story of the century but if he doesn't have a literary industry connection, the story will never be looked at. With the rise of the personal computer, the internet and other digital communication devices, literally anyone can sit down and write a novel. What this means is that agents are swarmed with query letters everyday and there is not enough time in the day to look at them all. I either get no reposnse at all from agents or a form rejection.

The other reason could be fear. Hardball goes right to core of the US government, looks it right in the eye and says,"Fuck you", and it does so in a powerfully dramamtic and entertaining way. Is it possible the government is afraid that its credibility would be damaged by a story with a premise that the federal Drug Enforcement Admisistration director is in reality a drug lord. The story is, of course, just a piece of fiction, but I think this little figment of my imagination may have inadvertently hit the nail on the head of the truth and those in publishing know that a story like this will be most certainly frowned upon by those in power.

The other possibility is that I'm just a bipolar parnoid. The story sucks. My writing stinks and the 300 pages it takes up should go into the recycling bin. That is as viable a scenario as any. But how about you tell me? Through the miracles of blog digital technology, Hardball will finally be published. We'll start off slowly. Next week, Chapter One-Comrades will be published on this blog. Not only do I ask for your open and honest comments. I urge to tell me what you think. I look forward to hearing from all of you.