March 31, 2014

UPS ran today. The copies of “Predator & Prey” I had ordered arrived. I took the box and set it on a table near the fireplace. I soon discovered that, just like with “The Stones of Andarus”, I wasn’t prepared for what would happen when I opened that box.

I knew I was excited that Book 2 of The Devenshire Chronicles was out and I would soon have a copy of it to join my copy of “The Stones of Andarus”. I had a very emotional moment when I first held a physical copy of Book 1 in my hands. It was my first published work and it was the realization of a dream that went back 36 years. To a young boy who couldn’t control his temper. He still can’t at times, but that’s ok. He’s still trying and that’s all that really matters. (See my blog entitled “Book One Arrives”)

Today Book 2 arrived and when I opened the box the emotions were every bit as strong as when I first held a copy of “The Stones of Andarus” in my hands. I just stood there, looking into that box and the first copy of “Predator & Prey” was there, Xavier with his sinister smile looking back at me, Daimion and the others looking strained and very concerned and… at the bottom of the cover… the name of the author. MY name. Then the tears came and I knew that all I could do at that point was to just let them go. I didn’t understand it at first. I wept when Stones came and I thought all of that emotional sentimentality was done and over with. I had no idea that such a strong reaction to P & P would come. In fact the reaction was every bit as strong, if not a fraction of a bit stronger. Why?

Was it because I had done it again? I had not only finished and published the first book, but I had finished and published the second! I had done what even I had questioned I would be able to do at times. With a severe case of writer’s block and the usual assortment of insecurities and doubts plaguing me for most of the year following the release of Stones, I had seriously questioned whether or not I would ever finish Book 2. However, I was now standing in my living room, in pretty much the same spot I had stood when Book 1 arrived and was staring at “Predator & Prey”, Book 2 of The Devenshire Chronicles… by Tom Sechrist.

While this thought held some very valid points, it didn’t quite ring out in my mind as the reason for such an emotional reaction to something I had already been through before. I simply stood in my living room, holding my copy of “Predator *& Prey” and I shed silent tears of joy. I looked up at the picture of my mother and step-father, the picture of Blaine and the picture of Mariah on the mantel and I smiled. They are all in heaven and they are all smiling down on me this evening. I hoped they were proud of me and, somehow, I knew they were.

That’s when it hit me! That’s when I understood! With each book I publish. With each obstacle I overcome to reach another level of my career and my dream. With each step I take towards my ultimate dream of being a full time author… I’m proving a point.

It’s not a point to all the people who said I couldn’t do it. I shut all of them up with the release of Book 1. I’m making a point to and trying to silence the strongest, most vocal and most vicious critic in my entire life: myself.

I’m not writing these books to become rich and famous, although I won’t deny the pleasure in those thoughts. I often have little daydreams of Renee and I sitting on a beach (preferably on Isla Mujeres) and enjoying a sunset or a drink after a fresh seafood meal. There’s another little daydream I have where Renee and I are living in a cabin in the mountains somewhere. It’s snowing outside and we have a roaring fire going in the fireplace. I’m at my desk in front of a massive bay window overlooking the mountainside. I am writing away, my fingers nearly cramping because I can’t type fast enough to get the words out. I take a break to rest my fingers and take in the beauty through the window. Renee comes up from behind me with two mugs of coffee, sets one down next to me and then kisses me on the top of the head. She then sits down next to me and we talk. It really doesn’t matter about what, just that we are talking and enjoying being together. There are hundreds of others, but these two are my favorites.

So if I’m not writing these books to become rich and famous, then why?

I’m writing these books to please people. To make a connection with a complete stranger whom I may never, ever meet. To reach out and touch someone with my words the way other authors have touched me. I want people to read my words and feel like we just had one hell of a great time together… and then leave them with some very warm and fond memories. Years after they read my book(s), when they are asked who their favorite author is or what author really touched them, they answer with my name.

I’m also writing these books for that part of me that regales in regularly telling me that I’m not good enough. It loves to tell me that I don’t have the talent to be a first class author, or anything else for that matter. Every minute of every day it is always there, always pushing down on me, telling me I’m not ever going to be good enough, not in a thousand lifetimes. It gets a near sexual satisfaction from telling me, over and over and over every single day how I’m less than human. It whispers in my ear that I’m fooling myself if I ever think I’m anything more than a headcount. Its words echo those of someone else in my life that loved to say such things to a child, a child who idolized him. The same person inspired that part of me to keep telling me that no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I will never EVER amount to anything in this life.

Well the person that inspired that part of me to say such things is no longer with us and with each book I write, with each person who reads them and enjoys them, with each day of my life that passes with me going to sleep a happy man I am grabbing that part of me by the throat and telling him to shut his damn mouth once and for all!

I may never reach the level of a Stephen King or a Dean Koontz or a John Grisham or a J. R. R. Tolkien or a Clive Cussler or a Louis L’Amor.

You know what? That’s okay!

It’s okay because I know that for today… and for many more days to come, I will have reached the level of a Tom Sechrist. That’s a pretty neat place to be these days.

So to that part of me that constantly and eternally tries to squash my dreams I have a message for you: Shut the hell up, sit back and enjoy the ride because there is absolutely no stopping me!

Not now!

Not ever!