If the Publishing Industry Was Like the Music Industry

I get frustrated sometimes that musical artists (and in some cases, I use that term really really loosely) get so much glory for their creative expressions. It makes me wish sometimes that I'd taken that record deal I was offered on my last day of high school back in June 1987 rather than pursue this writing thing. Before I let the years slip by. Before I gained all this weight. Before my dreams began to die. Before, well, just before Life took me over.

I mean, I walked right into the deal. My choir teacher played a song I'd recorded over the loudspeaker in dedication to my graduating class. I remember running from homeroom in embarrassment, because I hadn't yet fully accepted my gift at that time. Next thing I know, a man claiming to be a producer breaks through the growing crowd of people now surrounding me. He asks my name, tells me he wants to give me a deal, put me in the studio, make me a star, et cetera. I take his card to be polite, and then he gets swallowed up by the crowd and he's gone. I don't even remember his face; couldn't tell you what he looked like. I just know that it wasn't until later that day that I learned that he truly was a producer who was in the building visiting my choir teacher at the very moment my song played over the loudspeaker. He'd heard me sing for less than three minutes and he knew that he wanted to give me a deal. Just like that.

What if the publishing industry was like that? What if it was possible, as a complete unknown, to get a book deal based on the talent a writer exhibits in a two-page prose piece or a short story? If that was the case, I feel sure I'd have a deal by now!

Oh well, time will bring me closer to my dreams.