The Crying Scarecrow of The Missed Collaboration

Many years ago, back when Ellen Hopkins was new on the scene with her best-selling debut Crank, I was invited to a very small writer's group that she was a member of and I loved it. Every single person there was so nice, and so helpful, and because they were so accomplished I felt like I was just a kid getting to hang out with a group of all my favorite Aunts and Uncles that normally wouldn't let a kid hang out with them as they did grownup activities.

I felt out of my league!

It was during this time that I really started pumping out short stories (Many of which are real stinkers, now that I look back on them.) and kind of picking at the edges of my abilities. I wrote my zombie novella that nobody has read since then. I also wrote book one of my Trouble Meets The May Boys series, "Maze of The Blue Rose".

Ellen, The Great and Powerful as I think of her, read it and instantly loved it (She even was gracious enough to provide a blurb for it once I finally started selling it!). Sure, she made some suggestions (Which of course were exactly the right direction to go.), but my first book was completed, and I started on book two almost immediately. (While it is still being written, we both agreed it is better than the first.)

I was on fire! I was really writing, in a group of people so far out of my league they had to read my stories with telescopes. Well one day, a writer I'll just call Bob threw out a story idea that I fell in love with. It was around Halloween, and the story dealt with scarecrows, which I've always had a fascination with. Bob knew this, and came to me with the idea of the two of us collaborating on the story together for two reasons: 1) I loved the idea so much and loved scarecrows, and 2) He said our minds put together would make the story better than anything either of us alone could come up with.

Of course, I INSTANTLY DECLINED!!!! Why? Well it should be obvious. He would know I was a fraud! Sure, Ellen Hopkins, who was quickly becoming a worldwide star in front our eyes believed in me and swore up and down that I was going to be a star some day. Yeah, the other members loved my stories. Whatever! What they didn't realize was that I was faking it!

That's right! I was faking it! I wasn't really a writer! I mean, how could I be? I wasn't famous. I'd never been published. I was terrified every single time I sat down in front of an empty page. How could I collaborate with this writer that I felt was so much better than me and basically pull back the curtain and embarrass them for all of the praise they'd heaped on me during that time? I was terrified that they would figure out that I was just a scared guy with a big imagination and no idea where these stories came from, or how I got them down on paper.

It was one of the biggest mistakes I have ever made in this very small writing career of mine. There is a scarecrow out there crying right now that Bob and I never imagined up and gave a voice to. Never set him on his adventure (or on fire, given the nature of our imaginations). I passed up on the opportunity to write with someone I looked up to, passed up on an opportunity to work with someone who could have improved not only my confidence, but my skills as well. All because I was afraid, and I didn't realize that all writers are.

I know that now. The scariest thing in the world to one of us is a blank page. Not because something might not come out, but possibly because of what DOES come out! Ellen pushed me for years to seek publication, and I hemmed and hawed out of sheer terror that someone was going to tell me what I now know is the truth "You're terrified. You have no idea what you're doing, and you're making it up as you go along. YOU ARE A WRITER!"

I'm sorry Bob. I'm sorry Scarecrow (Although we probably would have killed you.). I'm sorry to myself, for passing up the opportunity to better my craft, and gain the confidence I needed to truly believe in myself, and put my skills to work.

So now I know. One or two of your friends like your stories? You might be a writer, or at least a good story teller (There is a difference.) Or they might just be really nice friends. When a few good writers like your stories, (and Hell, want to work with you!!!) then you're a writer dammit.

If I never sell another story, I'll still be a writer. Because Ellen always wanted to read what I wrote. Because Bob wanted to put HIS story idea in MY hands. I am a writer.