Norbie Gets Screwed

In the mid-1980s, at the ripe old age of twenty-five and with a B.A. in English under my belt, I’d had enough of life on the road as an aspiring pop musician. Inspired by Kurt Vonnegut, Stephen King, and Dean R. Koontz, I thought I’d give writing a try. Surely, it couldn’t be that hard. All I had to do was put in the work. Right?

By the time I’d hit forty, I’d sold a short horror story to a small publication and received two very encouraging letters from editors at major magazines: Maurice DeWalt from Cavalier and Jessica Horsting from Midnight Graffiti. Stephen King had published in both! I thought for sure I was on my way. But as the years passed, there were no more sales, no more encouraging letters. Had these editors been wrong about me?

On top of that, raising kids was changing me. I no longer wanted to write about the dark side of humanity.

So now what? I definitely wasn’t a genre junkie. I could get as excited about Ray Bradbury as I could about a rock star biography.

All I knew, at that point, was that I was losing interest in writing. The years of feeling I’d failed were taking a toll.

I’ve always had a restless spirit. Amongst other things, I’ve worked as a touring musician, waiter, security guard, office minion, kung fu/tai chi sifu, furnace installer, guitar shop owner, guitar instructor, youth shelter program manager, English tutor, and front-line social worker with the homeless. I used to get really down on myself for not sticking with a career long-term—and trust me, I had lots of opportunity—but these days I’ve chosen to be glad that I travelled the roads I did. I was very fortunate to have met so many interesting people. I realize now that it was in my DNA to get bored and seek the holy grail in a new job, a new career, a new possibility. However, in those days, I hadn’t accepted this truth about myself, yet.

During one of many existential crises—I was the world champ!—I time-travelled. I rang up an old Hamilton friend and bandmate I hadn’t seen since university. During one memorable visit, he randomly proclaimed that he’d always wanted to be famous. A chill literally crawled down my spine. Up until that point, I’d been convinced I was the only obsessive haunted by broken dreams. Turns out, I wasn’t alone. And it was a big relief, let me tell you.

So, after fifteen years of failing to find my unique voice as a writer, l left my friend’s house with the germ of a really great story--a story that came from deep inside me, a story that resonated. I was over the moon! Thank you, mid-life crisis! And thanks to my old friend for welcoming me into his home all those years ago, and letting the universe do its thing.

Finally, after years of struggling, I was writing a story that was all mine.

And it had been there all along! Just down the road and around the corner, so-to-speak. Who’d have thought?

Making Steven Famous is the first book in The Steeltown Chronicles. The next installment is coming soon. And if you’ve read Making Steven Famous, you’ll be delighted to discover who stars in the next book!

The Steeltown Chronicles will immerse you in a world that’s real and imagined, heart-breaking and hilarious, grounded and zany. You, dear reader, will recognize my characters—their hopes, dreams, and pain. And they will make you laugh!

And please, please write a review! You’re just as much a part of the story as my characters.