{"id":702,"date":"2010-02-26T18:01:08","date_gmt":"2010-02-26T23:01:08","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/?p=702"},"modified":"2010-11-20T18:46:42","modified_gmt":"2010-11-20T23:46:42","slug":"running-down-a-dream","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/?p=702","title":{"rendered":"Running Down a Dream…"},"content":{"rendered":"

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

Yeah, running down a dream
\nThat never would come to me.
\nWorking on a mystery,
\nGoing wherever it leads.
\nRunning down a dream.<\/p>\n

—Tom Petty, lyrics: Running Down a Dream
\n____________________________________<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve had the dream for a long, long time. Far longer than I\u2019ve been blogging. I\u2019ve always known, deep down, that one day I would pursue it. Reach for it and grasp it, one way or another. And either make it, or stumble and fail trying. Probably in a spectacular fiery crash, as most of my failures tend to unfold. <\/p>\n

But somehow, after graduating from college and then law school, life took over. And the day to day grind of living it. The dream lay dormant for almost two decades, as other pressing things intervened. Always, I knew that I should revive it. Do what it takes to get there. <\/p>\n

But I don\u2019t usually walk through life-altering doorways, not willingly. Not unless pushed by some powerful outside force. Don\u2019t know why. My cautious nature, I guess. Or maybe I\u2019m just burned out from all those experiences of running around and leaving home so many years ago. <\/p>\n

And then, almost three years ago, the dream rekindled itself. Came smashing back on its own accord. Triggered by a series of traumatic events. <\/p>\n

And when you get slammed by that level of trauma in a deep gut blow, it stirs the true essence of who you really are, deep down. At least it did for me. <\/p>\n

My instinctive reaction? I began to write. On this blog. <\/p>\n

A litany of pain and fear and rage and sorrow, at first. For some time. Then slowly, tentatively, the stories of my past emerged. My background, my childhood. And over time, my writing voice developed. And more importantly, the discipline of producing something, even when the muse seemed distant. Week after week, for a year. Then two. <\/p>\n

And somewhere in that time, the dream, which had flickered so low for so long, was reborn. <\/p>\n

My long term strategy was hopelessly na\u00efve. Keep producing good stuff, post it out there for the world to see, and one day someone with connections will notice. I have never advertised this blog. Or promoted myself. Word of mouth, I figured, was the best publicity. I kept plugging on. And my readership increased, through word of mouth and occasional links from other sites, to some pretty impressive numbers.<\/p>\n

The dream intensified. And now it has taken one more giant step toward reality. A hugely critical step. <\/p>\n

A few weeks ago, I accepted an offer through my agent from Tyndale House. To write a book. Tyndale. Out of Chicago. Big stuff. <\/p>\n

I\u2019m very excited. And scared. And pretty much freaked. Glad I don\u2019t have a weak heart. <\/p>\n

It was a long process. Frustrating at times. Hopeless at others. And I\u2019ll tell you how it all came down. <\/p>\n

First, I tried my hand at self-publishing. With disastrous results. We all, I think, remember how that went.<\/a><\/p>\n

As a direct result of my reactionary tirade, an email appeared from an old friend, Jerry Eicher.<\/a> Jerry and I were friends and classmates for probably the first seven years of our lives. I had not seen him in close to 20 years. <\/p>\n

Jerry is a very successful author of Amish fiction. His books are everywhere, in book- stores. At Wal Mart. I\u2019ve seen them on Choice Books racks at rest stops along the PA Turnpike. <\/p>\n

He had been checking out my writings. And read of my futile effort to publish. Guess he felt sorry for me. He had a suggestion. Why don\u2019t I contact his source at Harvest House, his publisher? Of course, I was all ears. Or all eyes, since we were communicating via email. Jerry sent me the link to his source. And I sent the guy a short message, along with a few of my stories. <\/p>\n

Amazingly, the guy emailed back. He was impressed. Would I consider writing a book for Harvest House? Would I? You bet. <\/p>\n

I sent him half a dozen of my sketches, and in June, he presented my writings to the Board at Harvest House. He was extremely optimistic. Convinced the Board would accept my stuff. The day came. The Board met. That night, a sad email. <\/p>\n

He was very sorry. Some on the Board loved my stuff. But a few obtuse (my word, not his) members thought my Amish stories weren\u2019t sweet enough. Not sweet enough. Think about that for a moment.<\/p>\n

Anyway, the vote had to be unanimous. And it wasn’t. So no deal. Just like that.<\/p>\n

And there it was. Rejection. Again. I had purposed to keep my expectations to a minimum. And I tried. But it was a blow. To absorb and accept. <\/p>\n

My Harvest House champion was devastated as well. We spoke that evening. He was quite sorry and extended his genuine condolences. <\/p>\n

But then: \u201cWait,\u201d he said. \u201cI know an agent. A friend of mine. I\u2019ll contact him. This guy knows everyone in the business. Maybe something good can come from all this yet.\u201d <\/p>\n

I thanked him and hung up. A few weeks later, the agent emailed me. Could we talk? We could and did. Shortly thereafter, in late July, I signed a contract with him. Sent him about ten of my sketches and some personal info. <\/p>\n

And that was it. No news all summer. After Labor Day, a short email, listing all the publishers he had approached. Big names. And then, silence. Nothing. For months. <\/p>\n

In the meantime, I kept on doing what I did after the first two rejections. Writing. When things don\u2019t work out, keep walking. Keep doing what you do best with the abilities you have. Sounds a bit cliched and trite, but it works for me. Whatever happens, I\u2019ll always fall back on that. <\/p>\n

And then, in January, a terse email. All the publishers had passed. No takers. Except one. A lone editor at Tyndale had expressed some interest in a biographical work. Would I consider that?<\/p>\n

Of course. And so, a week or two later, I spoke on the phone with the interested editor. For an hour. About my ideas for writing. And hers. It went well and I was relaxed, amazingly enough. I agreed to send her an overview of what I had in mind. After we hung up, I sent her some links to specific posts on my site. <\/p>\n

About a week later, I sent the overview. A few days after that, my agent emailed me that the editor was impressed. And that she would present her idea for my book to her Board at Tyndale.<\/p>\n

Oh, boy. Here we go again. Another Board. Looming like the Great Wall of China. You can\u2019t get around and you can\u2019t get through. Now what? It hadn\u2019t worked out with the Harvest House Board. I tried again to keep any expectations quashed. Fought back the nervous tension. And kept writing for my blog.<\/p>\n

And about a week after that, a late evening email from the agent. Great news.<\/p>\n

Tyndale had made an offer for a book. I couldn\u2019t believe it. After all this time. It seemed like the Lord was honoring my commitment, my dream. I sat there and stared at my agent’s message. Read it over and over again. Absorbed it, soaked it in. Then I made some phone calls. To my siblings and a few friends. <\/p>\n

Since then, the editor and I have spoken and communicated via email. As to what she wants. And when. She will fly in sometime in March to meet with me and plot out the story line. <\/p>\n

She wants a book based on my life. From birth. A continuous work. Not short sketches. I\u2019ve not written like that before. But I will now. <\/p>\n

Tyndale wants the manuscript finished by fall. The book is currently scheduled for release in the fall of 2011. <\/p>\n

And that\u2019s how it all came down. I\u2019ve got some work to do. A lot of intense work. <\/p>\n

And here, I publicly thank my friend Jerry Eicher. He freely and unselfishly offered to me his connections to the publishing world. Without which I would not be where I am today. I will never forget his kindness. <\/p>\n

This summer will be like none I have ever known before. It\u2019s going to take a lot of intense concentration to get the book done on time. I plan to use a lot of the stuff already posted, the stories and the scenes, woven in. But it\u2019s going to take of lot of writing from scratch, too. <\/p>\n

I know I can do it. I know I can. But still, deep down, way back, there\u2019s always that gnawing fear, that specter of failure. Just enough, I hope, to hone my creative senses to a finer edge. <\/p>\n

I don\u2019t embrace the fear, but I walk toward it. Face it. The dragon will not flee. It must be confronted and slain. <\/p>\n

Until November, the blog will have to take a back seat. I\u2019ll check in sporadically, probably once a month or so, to let you know how it\u2019s going and that I\u2019m still kicking. Maybe, with Tyndale\u2019s permission, I might post an excerpt or two from the book, here and there.<\/p>\n

And so I leave you for awhile. At least as you\u2019ve known me on this blog. Wish me well.<\/p>\n

When the manuscript is finished and submitted, I\u2019ll be back. To tell you of how it was. <\/p>\n

And so, once again I stand at one more threshold. Ready to step into a strange new world. It\u2019s been a lot of years since I\u2019ve wanted something as intensely as I\u2019ve wanted this. It\u2019s what I\u2019ve yearned for, dreamed of, for so long. Like the great shining city, always over the next hill, that called to me in the days of my youth so long ago. The city that somehow always faded into the mists, when approached, as the mirage it was. <\/p>\n

Now, for the first time, I approach the gates of that shining city. The gatekeeper awaits a battered traveler, ragged and weary from the tough slog of so many long and lonely miles through so many years. A traveler with some tales to tell. <\/p>\n

And this time, the great city is not fading away as I approach. It looms ever closer. It\u2019s real. <\/p>\n

And that\u2019s a little scary. Intimidating. I\u2019m a simple man, from hard plain roots. I have to fight it sometimes, the urge to turn and flee back to the comfort zone of the land from whence I\u2019ve come. To where I know and am known. But I can\u2019t. The price of getting here was too high to turn back now.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t quite know what\u2019s on the other side of those gates, or exactly how it will go. I think my editor does. And I expect some of it won\u2019t be pretty. <\/p>\n

There\u2019s only one way to find out.<\/p>\n

_________________________________<\/p>\n

Housekeeping Note: This week, my webmaster cleaned my spam infested site and installed the latest version of Word Press. He got rid of 22,000 plus spam messages. To protect from future spammers, he installed the CAPTCHA Code system for those who want to leave a comment. Just below the box where you write the comment, type in the letters and\/or numbers exactly as they’re shown, and your comment will be posted. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Yeah, running down a dream That never would come to me. Working on a mystery, Going wherever it leads. Running down a dream. —Tom Petty, lyrics: Running Down a Dream ____________________________________ I\u2019ve had the dream for a long, long time. Far longer than I\u2019ve been blogging. I\u2019ve always known, deep down, that one day I […]<\/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-702","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-news"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/702","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=702"}],"version-history":[{"count":66,"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/702\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1495,"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/702\/revisions\/1495"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=702"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=702"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=702"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}