{"id":14117,"date":"2016-08-19T18:00:03","date_gmt":"2016-08-19T22:00:03","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/?p=14117"},"modified":"2016-08-19T18:00:03","modified_gmt":"2016-08-19T22:00:03","slug":"vagabond-traveler-one-more-city","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/?p=14117","title":{"rendered":"Vagabond Traveler: One More City\u2026"},"content":{"rendered":"

photo-2-small.JPG<\/a><\/p>\n

if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
\nin spite of everything,
\ndon’t do it\u2026<\/p>\n

if you’re trying to write like somebody
\nelse,
\nforget about it…<\/p>\n

if you first have to read it to your wife
\nor your girlfriend or your boyfriend
\nor your parents or to anybody at all,
\nyou’re not ready…<\/p>\n

when it is truly time,
\nand if you have been chosen,
\nit will do it by
\nitself and it will keep on doing it
\nuntil you die or it dies in you.<\/p>\n

there is no other way.<\/p>\n

and there never was.<\/p>\n

—Charles Bukowski, excerpts; So you want to be a writer<\/em>
\n____________________<\/p>\n

It’s always been stirring around down there, deep inside. I’ve felt it, shifting, twisting, struggling to get out, to get told. And always, when I looked down inside to check things out, there was a small persistent voice that came. No. Not now. Don’t do it. Not this moment. It will come when it gets here, the story you need to tell. Not right now. One day, it’ll get here. You’ll know. It will come on its own, it will speak its own voice, and when it does come, you won’t be able to keep it silent. <\/p>\n

And I remember it all so clear, looking back. How that first journey was, to my first and only book. It was an impossible and hopeless dream, that I had back then. And I never got in anyone’s face about it. Nah, I figured. Ten million other people are out there in the market, frantically hawking their words to whoever they can get to listen. They got formulas, they go to seminars, they got all kinds of time-tested ways of making things work, when it comes to selling your book. I instinctively recoiled from all that noise and hassle. I don’t want to walk out there in that loud and messy market. And I thought to myself. Just sit in your little corner and write. Write your heart. It’s a long shot, but maybe you can make the market come to you. <\/p>\n

It was a spectacularly naive game plan. Looking back, there was almost zero chance that it would work. But I never fretted much about it. I focused on what I wanted to do. Write. Write and post. And in those first few years after my marriage blew up, that was pretty much the focus of my life. Tell your story. Throw it out there. Someone who knows someone will eventually have to notice. <\/p>\n

And a few years in, here comes a prophet, striding along, leaning wisely on his staff. Gray-haired and gray bearded. Well at least salt-and-pepper-haired and bearded, back then. He was a man I have known all my life. Jerry Eicher. A well-known writer of Amish fiction, Jerry had broken into the market in his own unique way. He won some sort of writing contest, I think. And he connected with Harvest House, his publisher. And he got a slew of books written and published, all without an agent. As of now, he has sold over 800.000 books, total, from a series of titles, which dwarfs the sales of my book. Our connection goes way back. We were both born in Aylmer, the same year. All the way up to second grade, we were neighbors, then Jerry’s family moved to Honduras with Peter Stoll and his group. We connected sporadically over the years. And when I started writing and blogging, Jerry read my stuff. <\/p>\n

And he’s the man who first came striding through the wilderness, to show me the way. At least the way he knew. We communicated off and on, via email. And Jerry offered to connect me with his guy at Harvest House. I’d appreciate that, I said. One way or another, I will get published someday. I know that as surely as I’ve ever known anything in my heart. I forget the guy’s name at Harvest House, the one Jerry connected me with. I sent him a few of my blog stories. He got quite excited. Harvest House would publish me, he assured me. And I dared to believe, dared to hope, that all of it was happening as I had dreamed it would. <\/p>\n

Jerry’s friend took my stuff to the board at Harvest House. He urged them to publish it. But a couple of people on that board shook their heads in horror. We can’t put writing like this on the market. It’s not sweet enough. Amish stories have to be sweet. And the sad message came back to me. Harvest House won’t publish you. And it seemed like the twilight of my dream had come, as the darkness settled and night closed in. I felt the disappointment, all the way down deep. But still I sat at my desk, and still I wrote and wrote and posted my blog. That’s all I knew to do. <\/p>\n

I had always believed. Someone who knows someone who knows someone will get me connected. And in that dark hour, that’s exactly what happened. The Harvest House guy was extremely disappointed. And we talked one night, on the phone. And he told me. “I know an agent, a good friend of mine. Let me talk to him about this.” I was pretty disillusioned by the Harvest House board. My stories weren’t sweet enough. What kind of a moron would say such a thing? I didn’t know Amish stories were supposed to be sweet. But I thanked the guy. I would appreciate that. If this was how the publishing world worked, well, I might as well just keep posting on my blog. None of my blog readers had ever suggested such an inane thing, that my stories weren\u2019t sweet enough. So I didn’t expect much to develop from the guy’s agent friend. Still, one always clings to a sliver of hope in a time like that. <\/p>\n

A few weeks later, sure enough, here comes an email from the agent the guy claimed he knew. Chip MacGregor, the only person in the publishing world I still communicate with today. He asked to talk on the phone, which we did. He didn’t seem like a wordy man. Almost shy and quiet. He asked for some of my stuff and other info, and I sent him what he wanted. And then he just disappeared for a few months. Hmm. I sure wonder what that was all about, I thought to myself. There’s sure not much fuss or hassle going on. And as always, I sat and wrote and wrote and posted my blog. <\/p>\n

The rest, I guess, is history. About eight months later, Chip brought me an offer from Tyndale House. They wanted a memoir. I don\u2019t know if I can write one, I said. Which was true. I didn\u2019t know, and actually doubted that I could. I might have heard of Tyndale House before, but I had no idea that they were as big and respected in the industry as they are. When you look at the publishing world and publishers, and all the would-be authors out there, when you look at an equation such as that, you\u2019ll know I had no clue of much of anything back then. I had about as much chance of getting published by Tyndale as I had of getting struck by lightning on a clear day. Maybe less, even. I know that now, looking back. <\/p>\n

It all came together, then, and the book came out and took off and did some crazy things. I won\u2019t go over all that again. That little journey has been well documented, right here. The thing is, what happens after you get something like that accomplished? I didn\u2019t know, really. Enjoy the ride, I guess. Then in late 2011, a small nudge from Chip, in an email. Tyndale would like to check about the possibility of another book. The sequel. I was freaked out a good deal by that, but once again, I said. I don\u2019t know if I can write one, but I guess I can try. So I went off and tried for a while. <\/p>\n

It did not go well at all. When writing my first book, all the way through, I told myself. You\u2019re not \u201cwriting a book.\u201d You\u2019re writing on your blog. Talk to your blog readers. They\u2019re the ones you\u2019ve always talked to. So I focused on that, when the going got tough a few times. Focused on speaking to my readers. And mostly it worked, pulled me through. Still, my \u201cmanuscript\u201d was one big mess. Stories ran together, or out of order. There were few chapter breaks, and no chapter titles. I just spewed it all out and sent it in. My Tyndale team took it from there. And I have always given those people all the credit in the world. I wrote the words, and they cut and fused the book from that. They could not have done a more professional job. I wouldn\u2019t change ten words in the book if I could. <\/p>\n

Back to the sequel. That\u2019s what you do, when you write a successful first book. Get the second one out while the market\u2019s hot. The time-honored formula. And that\u2019s the main reason most sequels are just flat out flops. You can\u2019t force real writing. You can nudge it along a little, maybe, but you can\u2019t force it. And I could not find my voice, to come out right with a second book. I went down dark roads, that had been lurking in my subconscious mind for decades. That little torrent was unleashed. And it did not go well. <\/p>\n

So I told the people I was talking to back then in the publishing world. I\u2019m pulling back. I\u2019m going back to where it all started, and just speak my voice on my blog. Maybe another book will come one day. I believe it will. But maybe, too, it won\u2019t. I\u2019m fine with whatever comes, either way. It\u2019ll just be what it is. That\u2019s what I told them. <\/p>\n

And that\u2019s what I\u2019ve done, ever since that day. Just rolled along, and lived. And come close to dying at least once, maybe twice. Not being dramatic, it\u2019s just a fact. And I wrote it all on my blog. Up and down and through deep dark places and over great soaring mountains. I walked through it all. And I\u2019ve always been pretty honest about it, right here where I can speak my voice. Here, I am comfortable. Here, I just write my heart. Here, I trust my readers enough to speak to them straight. There is no filter between me and them. <\/p>\n

And I gotta hand it to Chip, my agent. We\u2019ve always stayed connected, loosely. We\u2019re Facebook friends, and I\u2019m a faithful reader of his blog<\/a>. He\u2019s got the best insider\u2019s perspective on the publishing market out there. Some of what he says I should do, I pay no attention to at all. Like attending seminars and joining a writer\u2019s group and treating your writing as a business and working so many hours a day and producing X amount of words. I never have done any of that, and I never will. It\u2019s just not who I am. Don\u2019t get me wrong. I love the money my book brought me, and I wish it had been ten times more. But money had nothing at all to do with the reasons I wrote it. Look. You can write for any reason you want to. It\u2019s none of my business. But I\u2019ll tell you this. If you\u2019re writing for the money, it\u2019ll show up in your words. It has to. You\u2019re a mercenary, not a writer. <\/p>\n

Chip writes a lot about market trends, too, and I find all that more than fascinating. So we stay connected, loosely, like I said. He sends me an email once in a great while, just to \u201csee how you\u2019re doing.\u201d In other words, any writing coming through the pipeline in the foreseeable future? And I always smile, and tell him. Thanks for checking. Right now, I\u2019m good. And as each new year came in, lately, I emailed him. I can feel things stirring down there. Maybe this will be the year I can get you something. I\u2019ll let you know when it gets here. And I gotta hand it to the man. He has never, never, pressured me in any way. I\u2019ve always respected that about him. He has left me alone when I wanted to be left alone. Letting me know he\u2019s there, of course. But otherwise, he hasn\u2019t bothered me much at all.<\/p>\n

And now, it\u2019s today. Five years have passed since Growing Up Amish<\/em> was released. Six, since the summer I wrote it. That\u2019s a long time, for a rank new author to just disappear like I did. And it\u2019s not that I haven\u2019t thought about it often along the way, about writing the second book. I don\u2019t like the word, sequel. Second book is better. And I\u2019ve looked inside myself, and thought about things. Why doesn\u2019t it come churning out, like the first book did? Why can\u2019t I just walk on down that road, and crank it out?<\/p>\n

A big part of it, I think, was fear. Well, a lot of it was. You get to thinking. There\u2019s a quarter million people out there who have read your story, your quest to break away. They read your innermost feelings, they know who you were and what you did. They know how you hurt people, in your past. Something like that can freak you out, when you stop and actually absorb it. <\/p>\n

A part of it, too, is just you figuring out who you are. My book did some pretty crazy things, it brought me honors and some acclaim. And I had to sit down and figure it all out. Am I a \u201cwriter?\u201d Or am I just a guy who goes to work in his pickup truck every day, and writes evenings and weekends in his spare time? The high accolades proclaimed me a \u201cwriter.\u201d A new and singular voice. <\/p>\n

But my gut instincts told me. I\u2019m the guy in the truck, going off to work every day. Do not ever talk down to your people. Their blood will always be your blood. Don\u2019t talk yourself up. Respect where you came from. And speak your voice from where your heart is. I went with my instincts. And I\u2019ve tried hard to stay true to who I know I am. <\/p>\n

But mostly, I think, the second book hasn\u2019t come because it wasn\u2019t time. There\u2019s a whole lot of reasons as to why. Part of it may be because my father is still alive and fairly alert. My book pierced him pretty hard. It hurt him. A great lion of the Amish people, in his final years, when he should be basking in the honor of his life\u2019s work. And here comes his son, writing to all the world about his father\u2019s human flaws. How fair is that? Who deserves such a thing? And what do you think the second book will be about, a lot of it? Yeah, it\u2019ll be about my Dad. The struggles we had, even since Growing Up Amish<\/em> came out, to face each other and speak real truth. That was a hard row for both of us. But especially for him, I think. What is the ethical thing to do? I don\u2019t know. I guess you just tell the story. <\/p>\n

And jumping around a little bit, here. We\u2019re in late August. More than half the year is gone. I turn fifty-five next week. Next March, I\u2019ll have ten solid years of writing under my belt. Which is nothing, compared to Dad at that age. He had tens of thousands of pages printed by then. I got one book, and this blog. My father was the real writer, if you look at production. Whatever. This is not where I meant to go, here in this paragraph. It\u2019s so easy, to meander off sideways down bunny trails.<\/p>\n

What I set off to say was this. This year is more than half gone. And this has been one of the freest and wildest years I\u2019ve ever seen in my life. All of it comes from the sheer joy of living, after the death angel came real close to getting his wish, last November. He lost, though, and had to lay down his sword. And I came out of that dark place, I came back to where life was, and realized. I was never afraid, back there. That seems so strange. But it\u2019s true. And I lifted my face to the heavens and raised my arms in triumph and fiercely exulted. And shouted out, to anyone who would hear. I AM NOT AFRAID. I WILL NEVER BE AFRAID AGAIN. <\/p>\n

It changes things, when you look death in the face and feel no fear. It changes everything, when you get back. And I\u2019ve written about it until y\u2019all must be getting sick of hearing it. Hear me one more time. I\u2019ll shut up, soon. I promise. But anyway. At first, I kind of sat back in wonder. And I wondered if it would last, this new knowledge. Could it last? It waves, sure, some. But mostly, the fearlessness grows stronger. The path to freedom more real. <\/p>\n

And that\u2019s what almost all of my adult life has been about. A relentless quest to be free. Free from cultural chains. Free from legalistic bondage. Free from fear. Free from shame. Free to walk before God and speak my heart honestly to Him, and to my readers, right from where I am. Free to live, just live, and free to go get counseling when I get nudged to. I will be free, I will be free, I will be free. That has been the battle song of my heart, for about as long as I can remember. And yeah, I\u2019ve been beaten and battered around a good bit. I\u2019ve lost a lot of battles. It doesn\u2019t matter. I\u2019m still standing. And I have never wavered in my unrelenting quest.<\/p>\n

And in this year of freedom, lately there came something else. The writing I had kept pushing off came stirring. I\u2019ve known the road I need to walk for some time, now. I\u2019ve known the story line, the setting, what needs to get told. I just never got up the nerve to start walking. About a month or so ago, I emailed Chip. I got something coming, inside me. I\u2019ve been real happy with what\u2019s been coming on the blog. I\u2019m writing free and relaxed. I think I\u2019ll have something for you, soon. And I asked him. What do you think the market will be like? Can you show my stuff around? He emailed back. There are plenty of publishers out there who will be very interested in seeing what you have to offer.<\/p>\n

And that wasn\u2019t a guarantee of anything. The market is there. That\u2019s all Chip was telling me. Send me your stuff. And he also needs an updated bio, four or five suggested titles, and forty or fifty pages of actual writing. Good grief. I got no problem with working on the writing. But all that other stuff is just tiresome. I’m not sure I even know what a bio is. Just tell your publisher people to go look at my blog. I got everything posted there that you’ll ever need to know about me. Ah well, let me get those fifty pages worked up, and then we\u2019ll talk, I emailed back. You can shop what I write to anyone you want. <\/p>\n

I don\u2019t know. It feels almost like I\u2019m starting all over again. Except this time I have a record. Last time, I didn\u2019t. We\u2019ll see how it goes, I guess. Maybe lightning can strike the same place twice. <\/p>\n

Moving along, then. A few weeks back I got a message from my gray-haired friend, Jerry Eicher. He was coming through the area that Saturday afternoon, and wondered if I wanted to meet. Of course, I said. Let\u2019s get together at Vinola\u2019s around five or so. <\/p>\n

I arrived early and sat at the bar. And soon he came walking in. I stood and greeted him. And he sat at the bar with me. Give him the nonalcoholic \u201cIra,\u201d I told Amy the barmaid. She smiled her dazzling smile. And she got all busy juicing oranges and throwing other things together. She filled a large glass and poured in the mixed juices and some seltzer water, threw in some cherries, then shook it all up. Jerry lifted the glass and tasted. That\u2019s my special drink from Amy, I told him proudly. She named it after me. How do you like it? \u201cIt\u2019s good,\u201d he said. \u201cI really like it.\u201d <\/p>\n

We ordered greasy bar food, then just sat there and talked. It\u2019s been a while. I respect Jerry\u2019s take on the publishing market almost as much as I respect Chip\u2019s. And he told me. \u201cYou were so lucky that Tyndale got hold of your book and published it. They had the credibility to market it to both the Christian and secular worlds. Not a lot of publishers have that kind of credibility. They got it done.\u201d I am grateful, I said. I always will be. And we talked. I told him. I\u2019ve been very happy with the blog writing lately. The new writing\u2019s stirring in me, and I\u2019m working on getting started on my second book. <\/p>\n

He nodded. \u201cYou know,\u201d he said. \u201cYou could just take a bunch of your blogs and make a book out of them. That would sell. Your writing\u2019s that good.\u201d But the blogs are out there for free, I protested. Why would anyone pay for what they can get for free? He scoffed. \u201cPeople aren\u2019t going to go dig them out. The blogs disappear, down the line as you post new ones. If you put the best ones in a book, that book would sell.\u201d I thought about that for a moment. You know what? I said. There\u2019s been at least one publisher who approached Chip with that very idea. I told him no, because I want to try to write another real book. Maybe if my stuff doesn\u2019t get picked up, my fifty pages, maybe then I\u2019ll go back and make a book out of the best blogs. Hmm. I hadn\u2019t ever considered that seriously before. We\u2019ll see.<\/p>\n

And we just talked along as our food came out and we ate. Jerry has seen a lot, when it comes to the publishing world. Way more than I ever will. It\u2019s always fascinating, to hear his perspective. I told him. The Amish fiction market has collapsed. He agreed. He\u2019s still writing those books, but you have to be established, these days, to get your Amish fiction published. Most of the fly-by-night authors are long gone. My words, not his. I\u2019ve always been suspicious of the genre. But I respect Jerry. I always will. He\u2019s the one who opened the door to the publishing world to me. I don\u2019t forget a favor like that. <\/p>\n

And I\u2019ve thought about things a lot, since Jerry and I talked at Vinola\u2019s. I\u2019ve made noises, here and there these last few years, about a second book. But even as I was writing those noises, I could not feel it inside me, that anything was coming soon. Now, it\u2019s different. And now, I\u2019m telling you. <\/p>\n

Something is coming, soon. And no, it\u2019s not something wicked this way comes. It\u2019s something real will finally be written. And it\u2019s like I told Sam, my counselor, last session we had. We talked, and nothing was off the table. And I told Sam, there at the end. I can see the path to where I need to go. I can feel the chains breaking from me. But still, that path needs to be walked. And hard things need to be faced. Real hard things. I\u2019m focused on the destination. I\u2019m not sure how I\u2019ll get there. But I\u2019m not afraid to start walking. That\u2019s how I feel right now, about a lot of things. Including my writing. Including my second book. <\/p>\n

So I guess I’ll be taking a little side trip, here, real soon. I won\u2019t be posting on the blog as regularly as I have been. Oh, I\u2019ll check back, once in a while. I always have. I\u2019ll tell you how it\u2019s going. If I get stuck, I\u2019ll come back and tell you that, too. And if my stuff gets rejected, I\u2019ll just throw it out for free right here on my blog. We\u2019ll see how it all goes when I get there. <\/p>\n

I remember so well when the journey of the first book started. I wrote about it back then. I called it a shining city on a hill, the place where I was going. And it was just that, in all the ways I could have imagined. The thing is, I look back on it now and realize the cold hard truth in what King Solomon wrote, long ago. The man knew what he was talking about. Because in the end, all of it was vanity, that shining city, all of it was a weariness of the body and the mind. From where I am today, I can see that and say that. Not from where I was back then. It was a vision and a dream. It was a beautiful gleaming place, whatever else it was. And today I know. There will never be another shining city like the first one. <\/p>\n

But still, the vagabond traveler blood in me stirs. And as the sun sets and twilight closes in on one more chapter of my journey, I see it way out there on the horizon, out there in the hills. A distant light glowing. So faint, but so clear. And now, I turn my face to those hills and walk. <\/p>\n

And I believe, like I always have. One more shining city waits for me to get there.<\/p>\n

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if it doesn’t come bursting out of you in spite of everything, don’t do it\u2026 if you’re trying to write like somebody else, forget about it… if you first have to read it to your wife or your girlfriend or your boyfriend or your parents or to anybody at all, you’re not ready… when it […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-14117","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-news"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14117","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=14117"}],"version-history":[{"count":32,"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14117\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14149,"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14117\/revisions\/14149"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=14117"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=14117"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=14117"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}