Writing a book is no simple task. As Ernest Hemingway once said, “It is easy to write. Just sit in front of your typewriter and bleed.”
From the concept of building the storyline and the characters to the mountain of research, the actual writing, and incessant rewriting through the editing, torture, and book design, writing a book is not like writing a thousand-word composition on my favorite character in my freshman year of high school.
One lady from Russia wanted to write her story about her difficulty coming to America with a baby, being abused, speaking no English, getting a job, and putting her child through college. While this is a wonderful and noble experience, millions of immigrants have similar stories. I asked her, “Did you sleep with Vladimir Putin?” She became incredulous. I told her THAT would make a great story.
Mob guys and criminals actually call me from prison to do their books. I did 2 of them. One is very successful, and one is coming out soon and could be a blockbuster.
I nearly bled to death with these books. No more true crime for me. Fiction is my genre, and that’s where I belong.
Some people think they will write their book or have a ghostwriter pen it, and they can retire to the South of France and never work another day in their lives. Although it has happened, there is a better chance of hitting the billion-dollar lottery. Look at Fifty Shades of Grey. Horribly written, but 150 million copies were sold, and two feature films were made. Dirt sells. Cha-ching!
Those who want to write their life story don’t want to pay for it, have no money to promote the book, and don’t want to put the excruciating work and time it takes into the details.
So, my way out of these weekly requests is to say I have four projects I’m working on and don’t take requests. My store is closed. I’m doing what I want to do with the time I have left. I think I’ve earned that.
