Stephen King Saved My Writing Career Without Doing A Thing

Posted on September 19th, 2018 by Adam-Troy Castro

Originally published on Facebook September 19 2017.

I have never met Stephen King. I have never had any contact with Stephen King. I have had the simultaneous honor and ill-fortune to twice be nominated for genre awards opposite Stephen King: in both cases an exercise in foregone conclusions, but by God there I was and there he was.

I want to say that in the same way writers can change lives even if those lives never directly intersect, the same way that Harlan changed my life a few times before we met, Stephen King unknowingly saved my writing career.

The man from Sherman Oaks unknowingly altered my fate when another well-respected literary giant told me in college that I didn’t have what a writing career takes and that I was fated to never sell a word, and a cold voice appeared in my head with knowledge of Harlan’s own literary biography and told me, “Treasure this exchange, Adam; this is your Dr. Shedd moment.” I walked away from that potentially shattering advice with my resolve still in place, only because I had made the literary acquaintance of a man then many years from becoming my friend and read the story of how one Dr. Shedd told him he was nothing, same context, a college writing class.

In the same way *that* happened, Stephen King also unknowingly stepped in and changed my future, without doing a damn thing but providing an example.

You see, at age 18 or so, I wrote a totally hopeless short story now lost that the world is better off without, and asked a friend for her opinion.

Her opinion was, “This is terrible. This is even worse than Stephen King.”

I said, “Who?”

She said, “Stephen King. I just read a short story collection of his. NIGHT SHIFT. One of the worst books I’ve ever read. Your stuff reminds me of his. You’re just as bad as he is.”

I had not heard of the guy, in 1978. Maybe in passing. I had certainly never read his work.

I went to the library the next day, eschewing my classes because this was *important,* sat down in a comfortable chair and started to read NIGHT SHIFT.

As per my usual wont with short story collections, I skipped around — and because the introduction by John D. MacDonald (a name I did know) singled it out for special praise, I started with “The Last Rung On The Ladder.”

Guys, my friend spoke true. I was worse than Stephen King. Literally true. He was publishing. I was nowhere near ready.

I still am worse than Stephen King, I think, in the sense that I am clearly not as good as him. It would be foolish of me to pretend otherwise.

But blown away by that story, and by several others in that collection, I realized that my critical friend had unknowingly given me one of the great formative compliments of my life. I had a lot to learn, still. I still do. But if what she read and hated from me reminded her at all of this other guy she had read and hated, then maybe that was a sign that the basic trick was not beyond my reach — just not meant for her.
So yeah, the two most encouraging moments I ever had, a full decade before my first acceptance letter, were both by naysayers who tried to destroy me — and in both cases, writers I loved unknowingly shielded me from the shrapnel.

I owe King that debt, and he probably doesn’t even know who the hell I am.

Writers do that.

Tags: Stephen King, True Stories, writing | Category Life Wisdom, True Stories

On the Total Impotence of Offended Willie Nelson Fans

Posted on September 14th, 2018 by Adam-Troy Castro

A man has been a country music legend for decades.

He has had some bad times, some rough times with the tax man, but he is an elder statesman. His position in the field is assured, quite possibly for all time. Certainly he will make headlines when he finally breathes his last. There will be sad and worshipful elegies.

He is now an old man, if not in energy level then certainly in mileage. You just have to look at him.

He says that he is holding a fundraiser for a Democratic candidate.

All at once a small mob of jackasses who claim to love his music and to have loved it for decades, but who apparently haven’t paid attention to a single damn thing he stands for, throw up their hands and say that they’re going to burn his albums.

They’re going to take these albums, these CDs, these DVDs, that have been gathering dust on shelves or in glove compartments, some of them listened to often, some of them half-forgotten as life or newer music intruded, and destroy them in a fit of colossal pique. These albums, these CDs, these DVDs already paid for, some decades ago. Money that may not still be in his pocket, but by God certainly passed through it, that is no longer paying for his weed.

The man, who is in his eighties, is supposed to say, “Oh, no! My poor career! I have to think of my future!”

Ladies and gentlemen burning his work, I assure you that Willie Nelson passes so far into the realm of not giving a shit that you could likely fuel a city with the trapped methane.

You are more than stupid, more than bigoted, more than childish, with this gesture.

You are broadcasting your colossal impotence for the world to see.

Tags: Politics, Republicans, Willie Nelson | Category Life Wisdom, Politics

“Plaid Shirt Guy”: A Nice Kid Who Trump’s People Insulted

Posted on September 9th, 2018 by Adam-Troy Castro

“Plaid shirt guy,” the teenager expelled from a rally for making puzzled expressions in the background while Donald Trump ranted, is a 17-year-old named Tyler Linfesty.

Either a Republican himself or an apolitical kid who thought it would be neat to get that close to a living President, he was certainly not a protester, or a Democratic plant. By his lights, he was being polite enough. He applied to attend the rally. He said that his plans were to clap for the things he agreed with and not clap for the things he didn’t agree with, a reasonable and even commendable position.

Cast as what amounted to extra, he was seated over the President’s right shoulder, where he was visible, twitching and reacting with occasional confusion, throughout.

His reaction to being pulled from his seat in the middle of the speech, and being questioned by the Secret Service for ten minutes, was a shrug and the opinion, (I paraphrase), “They were nice enough.”

We are not talking about a massive reservoir of ideological passion, here.

It would be a mistake to conflate this with being an idiot. Tyler’s academic interest is Physics. It is his unassuming nature, and his inherent modesty, that keeps him from realizing that his country has insulted the shit out of him.

His sin was not being photogenic. His sin was not being wildly enthusiastic. His sin was not looking like what Trump’s people think a Trump supporter should look like, except by virtue of being white.

These are small sins compared to those of the man he sat behind.

Tags: Donald Trump, Politics, Republicans | Category Life Wisdom, Politics