Whatever Became of Me?

 
The last communication from my long-time agent in NYC reads almost like a suicide note. And he's been in the thick of it for over thirty years. Times change.

     Friends with very good books, who are struggling to find a way to enter the book business, are asking me how this new eBook adventure of mine is going. I feel as though I'm leading them astray, when ‘good' advice would tell them to hang in there and wait for the business to revive itself. But I've lost faith in that resurrection.

     Celebrity sells, period. And the Cult of Celebrity remains shrouded in mystery to me. I have no idea why some people become celebrities and some don't. The finest duo I've ever heard in Americana music struggles to find gigs. Others seem to find concert venues wherever they look. I have no idea why.

     When I hear that an 18 year-old celebrity has written a memoir I think it must be like a newly laid egg writing of what it feels like to be fried, boiled and scrambled.

     People tell me they're sorry that I've never made it. I know what they mean, but they don't have a clue.

     I've been married for almost forty years to a woman who still makes my heart beat faster by simply walking into the room. I have a seven acre farm, where I grow nothing that doesn't just pop naturally from the ground....like trees and wild blueberries.

     I've written four more novels and two children's books, and feel that I've gotten better as a writer with each book. They may never sell, but I'll write another anyway. It doesn't matter. I'm a writer, so what else will I do?

     Maggie and I have 8 CDs of our original music that sell around the world. We've played the main stages of major folk festivals and a sold-out concert at the legendary Linenhall Arts Centre in Castlebar, Ireland. We've stood on wet slate atop an Irish castle in the rain, watching a wild river run far below. We've toasted the lights of the French coast from Sark, an island at the farthest tip of the English Channel. We've played shows in Newcastle, England, and Bandera, Texas. We're pirates at the Conch Republic Festival in Key West, and at the Florida Seafood Festival in Apalachicola, Florida. We're hired every year as entertainers at major Celtic festivals in the Southeast. We're photos in ten thousand family albums.

     So I guess we've achieved ‘celebrity' status in our lives.

     ‘Making it' means different things to different people. After just a little over a month of this self-promotion thing online, I feel like a hack. "Here, little kid," I say. "Here's a dollar. Now do you like me?"

     Maggie just looked over this part about self-promotion and said, "I'd call it ‘Brag and Gag.'"

     True.

     I hope my novel ‘makes it,' because if it does there are more waiting restlessly in the wings. The first in line is a finished sequel to A Thousand Bridges. I'm impatient, at sixty-four. Maggie would tell you that's nothing new.