Sports Fandom: Embracing the Pain

“I feel the pain of everyone. And then I feel nothing.”

- Dinosaur Jr., “Feel The Pain”

I didn’t write much about the Steelers this season, though there was plenty to write about. And I certainly haven’t written anything since the Super Bowl.

Your favorite team losing the Super Bowl … it’s a strange feeling. It took me a few days to get over it. Different moments played back in my mind. The penalties. The turnovers. So many what-ifs.

But what-ifs are just that. Sports fans grow old with their what-ifs. They hold onto them for their entire lives.

“What if he caught that ball?”

“What if he makes that tackle?”

This line of thinking quickly gets you to the “if only” stage. “If only he would have caught that ball … we probably would have won.”

But in the end, the what-ifs and if-onlys only matter in our minds. The record books will read Green Bay 31 – Pittsburgh 25. And yes, I winced a bit when I wrote that.

That being said, right after the Super Bowl … I was OK. I was almost too OK for someone whose team just lost the Super Bowl. The Steelers had a great year. They were beaten by a better team, or at least, a team that was better on that final day. I don’t subscribe to the view of many NFL fans — that fans of 31 teams have virtually no reason to feel good about the season. After everything the Steelers went through this past season … if you tell me they have one last drive to win the Super Bowl, in the last two minutes? Again? Somehow? With that O-line? I take it every time.

Yeah, I was OK. But not great. Far from it. I didn’t get much sleep that night. I kept thinking about all the mistakes. The missed 52-yard field goal. The interception for a TD. Keyaron Fox’s asinine penalty. And most of all, Mendenhall’s fumble. The momentum had turned at that point. The Steeler running game was starting to look unstoppable. The Steeler fans in the crowd started to believe. You could hear the “Here We Go” chant fill Jerry Jones Stadium. And then…

So why wasn’t I depressed for weeks, or longer? Two main factors, as best as I can tell, and both are fairly obvious.

***

1. A recent championship.

Bill Simmons writes about a five-year “grace period” after your team wins a championship. No complaining. I don’t know if there’s an actual time limit for it, but that period does exist. It’s probably different for everyone. As a fan, you know the players should want to win it all every year. But you also know that’s not a realistic expectation. And it’s a bit greedy. (Yankee fans cannot comprehend these last two sentences.)

The Steelers have won two Super Bowls in the past six years. Throw in all the Roethlisberger stuff, and no one other than Steeler fans wanted to see them win a third in that time frame. (And you know what? That was fine with us.)

Same reason why the Penguins’ exit to Montreal wasn’t nearly as painful as it should have been. If we did feel like crying, we still had the Stanley Cup waiting to collect our tears.

I don’t, however, think this extends to other sports teams in the same city. Non-Pittsburgh fans tell me the Pirates are our penance for all the winning. I disagree. Because as things stand now, the Pirates have no chance to compete for a championship. Every baseball season is a guaranteed L. The Steelers and the Pens could both have poor years, and the Pirates would not be lifting our spirits. Call me greedy, but I just want the Bucs to have a fighting chance.

And what about the people who are just Pirate fans, or the folks who are Pirate fans above all? Whither fellow one-time Beaver County Times sports correspondent, Doc Emrick?

2. Age.

Again, obvious. As you get older, it’s not necessarily that you care about sports less … it’s that you start to care (and worry) about other things more. Family. Career. House. Money. Et cetera. My nonna always said she never understood why people cared so much about their favorite teams. After all, “They don’t care about you.”

Maybe this is an Italian thing. Chazz Palminteri’s character said the same thing about Mickey Mantle in “A Bronx Tale.”

All right, here’s one more…

3. Expectations.

It’s human nature. If you don’t expect much, you’re happier with each extra game. If you expect the world, you can end up fearing defeat more than you’re anticipating victory.

Even though Pats fans were spoiled from three recent championships, those titles couldn’t have been much consolation after the Super Bowl loss against the Giants.

***

I’m one of those people who believes that sports fans connect with each other — and their teams — more through losing than through winning. Anyone can support a winner. The pain binds us. And after all, losing allows you to play the what-if game. Conversations about winning teams often turn into:

“That was awesome, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, they were a great team.”

“Yeah.”

It’s easy for me to say, of course, because my teams have won titles. I live in Buffalo, and trust me, these folks don’t want to hear that. And why would they? Buffalo fans don’t want to hear about my pain. They’ve got more than enough of their own. They treat me like I’m some young, bright-eyed man who fancies himself a real blues singer. And I just walked into the oldest, smokiest, bluesiest club in town.

“The blues? What do you know about the blues?”

But I will press on. The following are my most painful moments as a sports fan — one for each Pittsburgh sports team. These are dictated by my own personal feelings. Yours might differ drastically. Nevertheless, Pittsburgh fans … prepare for heartbreak.

Steelers

The Steeler list would be the longest. Not because I care about the Steelers so much more than the other teams — it’s just the nature of football. There are relatively few games, so the moments always feel that much more important. This is especially true with the Steelers, who, despite their success, often seem incapable of winning (or losing) a game handily.

Non-playoff moments are immediately out. Neil O’Donnell’s second interception in Super Bowl XXX would be a great candidate, but I was 13 years old at the time, and my memories of that game are a bit hazy. Thankfully.

That leaves us with a number of brutal playoff losses, most of them home AFC championship games. The one that hit me hardest — and I think this will be a popular choice among Steeler fans — is the 2001-02 loss to the Patriots.

Unlike the 2004-05 loss to the Pats, I felt like the Steelers were the superior team in ’01-’02. The Pats took an early lead on a Troy Brown punt return TD. Drew Bledsoe then took over for an injured Tom Brady, and promptly threw a TD. It was 14-3 at the half and we had to listen to Sheryl Crow sing “Soak Up The Sun” live. Nobody was in the mood for that.

Especially me. I was watching the game with my girlfriend at the time, who was from Massachusetts. That wasn’t the issue, though. She claimed to be a Patriots fan, but she wasn’t really. As I watched the first half in horror, it became clear that she’d rather see the Steelers win, because it was causing me such grief. Most people — myself included — thought that it would be the Steelers and the Rams.

Still in a state of disbelief, I slowly began to pull out of it. The Steelers were setting up for a gimme field goal, which would at least cut the deficit to one score.

The moment:

Kris Brown’s field goal attempt was blocked. It was recovered by Troy Brown — who else? — who lateraled to some guy (Antwan Harris), who ran it back for a touchdown. 21-3. If I was still in the state of denial as the ball was snapped, I went through the rest of the grief stages in the time it took to score that touchdown. The internet has spared me … I can’t find a video clip.

It was over. On a blocked field goal return, of all things. The second spectacular special teams failure in the game. (The Pats only scored one offensive touchdown in the game, a 24-17 final.) There was of course, a comeback, because these are the Steelers. But the inevitable Kordell Stewart interceptions notwithstanding, the blocked field goal was the true killer. And a lesson. Nothing is guaranteed. Especially in the NFL.

Pirates

The moment:

Duh. Francisco Cabrera. Sid Bream. I was 10 years old. And I haven’t seen a Pirate playoff game since.

Sid Bream never gets any faster, does he? If Bonds’ throw is accurate, he’s out by 10 feet.

But as bad as that was, the moment is much worse in hindsight because of what’s happened to Pirate baseball since. We couldn’t have known then what would happen in the following decades.

It still doesn’t compare to my most painful moment of being a Pittsburgh sports fan.

Penguins

A number of possibilities exist, from the David Volek OT goal to Tom Fitzgerald’s slapshot from Polish Hill. (That Eastern Conference Finals against the Panthers will probably always be the most frustrating series to me. What if the Panthers weren’t allowed to hold onto Lemieux and Jagr for seven straight games? Someone needs to make a “History Will Be Made” parody for that.) But nothing compares to…

It was the 1998-99 season. The Penguins were bankrupt. Relocation rumors were swirling. The future of the team in Pittsburgh was completely uncertain. There was a chance the playoff run was only delaying the inevitable.

The run wasn’t long, but it was memorable. The Pens were the eighth seed. Not a great squad, but they had the league MVP, and the world’s best player. Jaromir Jagr put the team on his back and the Pens defeated top-seeded New Jersey in seven games. This series is exhibit A when someone tries to tell you Jagr’s not a winner, or that he’s not clutch. His heroics in game six of that series — tying the game late, then winning it in overtime — are legendary.

Jags and the boys chugged along admirably, until they found themselves in an elimination game. Game six, at home against the Leafs. Enter former nondescript Penguin Garry Valk.

The moment:

Valk’s OT goal to eliminate the Pens in the 1998-99 Eastern Conference Semifinals was the goal that really could have ended a franchise. It could have been the last on-ice moment in Penguins history. No other loss could top the feeling of what could have been the last loss. Ever. I felt like crying, but I couldn’t. I was just numb. Completely numb.

I don’t know how I, or anyone, would choose to watch their favorite team play its last game. There’s no good way, really. But Garry Valk? In sudden death? Please. Not like this.

I have an excellent memory. But somehow, I’d completely forgotten what Valk’s goal looked like. I haven’t watched a replay in years. But this is all about embracing the pain. I know what I’ve got to do.

I don’t know how hundreds of Pittsburghers weren’t arrested for pummeling the Leaf fans that night. They either exhibited an amazing amount of self-control, or they were just as numb as I was.

***

When it comes to sports, the worst losses make the great wins feel even better. It’s true. To my Buffalo friends, I know that sounds like something people say to make you feel better. But for now, you’re just going to have trust me on this one.

My Top 20 Albums of 2010

Just a phenomenal year. Unlike 2009, there’s no shortage of great albums. I’m sure it’ll take me years to catch up with all the great stuff that came out in 2010. For now, I’ve got 20 for ya.

20. MGMT – Congratulations

It’s a good psychedelic rock album. I think many people were disappointed because that’s all it is. And that disappointment makes some sense. Why try to sound like the past when you already sound like the future?

19. Of Montreal – False Priest

I like this album, but I think it’s the end of the line for Kevin Barnes and this latest electrodisco-Georgie Fruit phase of his career. It started with Hissing Fauna, which was great. I also enjoyed the messy Skeletal Lamping more than most. False Priest starts off strong, but portions of it seem like weak rehashes of the past two albums. Time to evolve again.

18. Ted Leo and the Pharmacists – The Brutalist Bricks

Living with the Living wasn’t quite up to Leo’s normal standards. Here, he’s sounding urgent again. He knows it, too, as the album starts off with a jolt and “When the cafe doors exploded…” Personal favorites are “Even Heroes Have to Die” and “Bottled in Cork” — vintage form there.

17. The New Pornographers – Together

You know it’s a monster year when a new New Pornos album can’t even crack the top 15. Unlike all the other NP albums, I think Bejar brought the best songs to Together. That’s not an indictment of its quality — it’s just the way it worked out this time around. Another solid effort here, but not a standout.

16. Miles Kurosky – The Desert of Shallow Effects

It’s good to have Kurosky back. After fronting the late, great Beulah, he disappeared for a while, but he re-emerged to release an album that wasn’t completely dissimilar from something Beulah would have released. OK, maybe The Desert of Shallow Effects is both a bit more subdued and quirky than Beulah’s albums were — that newfound freedom reminds me of Stephen Malkmus’ solo debut.

15. Belle and Sebastian – Write About Love

After the dizzying heights of The Life Pursuit, it took four years for Write About Love to appear. Despite the wait, this album kind of flew under the radar for me. It’s solid, with a few top-notch additions to the formidable B&S catalog, but the Norah Jones duet, like everything else I’ve heard from her, is snoozeville.

14. The Apples in Stereo – Travellers in Space and Time

I’m glad Robert Schneider has gone off the deep end and completely embraced his inner Jeff Lynne. If the Apples are today’s ELO, well, there are lesser goals to be sure. There was a sticker on the cover of this album … it read something like  ”A symphony of robots and humans” or something like that. I don’t remember the exact wording. But anyway, it was a fairly accurate statement. “Symphony” might be a bit much, but Travellers sure is fun.

13. Kanye West – My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

I’ve always been more of a singles guy when it comes to rap. Everyone is aware of the critical euphoria this album has received. It is very good. But I don’t quite understand the endless acclaim. There are some killer tracks — “Dark Fantasy,” “Power,” “Monster” — but MBDTF is flawed. Kanye gets a lot of credit for being ambitious, but why shouldn’t he be ambitious? What has he got to lose? It’s a thin line between ambitious and bloated, and I don’t think Kanye’s always on the proper side here: “All of the Lights,” for instance, is overloaded and ultimately empty.

You should buy this album. It’s worth owning. But personally, I still prefer Graduation.

12. Spoon – Transference

Transference doesn’t really grab you right away like the last few Spoon efforts, but who doesn’t trust Spoon? You give it a few spins, and hey — another winner. Of course. It’s almost boring how consistent Spoon is, but I’ve gotta say something else. How about that “Goodnight Laura?” That’s a new kind of pearl from these guys. Quite welcome, too.

11. Surfer Blood – Astro Coast

Modern surf rock. The band name, album name, the shark cover, the song titles: “Floating Vibes,” “Swim.” But really, who doesn’t need an album they can blast at the beach? I’d be concerned about the long-term prospects of Surfer Blood if I wasn’t enjoying the songs so much. “Twin Peaks” even makes David Lynch and Syracuse sound sort of sunny.

But back to that shark attack cover: Astro Coast does have some bite. It’s not all palm tree gazing.

10. Let’s Wrestle – In the Court of the Wrestling Let’s

I adore this. It’s the kind of funny, clever, haphazard record that only seems to come out of England. Let’s Wrestle come off like a trio of post-punk pranksters, but the melodies will take you by surprise. Technically, I suppose Wesley Patrick Gonzalez isn’t much of a singer, but I don’t listen technically. The guy sings with his heart, even if he’s havin’ a laugh.

9. The Tallest Man on Earth – The Wild Hunt

Solo musicians and their monikers these days. TTMoE is the Swedish Kristian Matsson, and his talent is the stop-you-in-your-tracks sort. He’s got an earnest voice, whether it’s yelping or soaring, he’s a dynamo on the guitar, and man, can the guy write a tune.

There have been a thousand new Dylans over the years, so as for that, I’ll refrain. But Mattson’s gotta be The Great Folk Rock Hope at this point. If you’ve got no hope, he’s folk’s new king. Unlike so many of his contemporaries, he prefers shouting to whispering. May his reign be long.

8. The Hold Steady – Heaven is Whenever

There’s something just a little off here, isn’t there? The lyrics are still great, the songs still sound like they’re hitting the mark, everything seems to be in order … but it just doesn’t keep pulling me back in like past Hold Steady albums. Perhaps the production is getting a tad too polished for a band that won me over with its hard-working grittiness. I love Heaven is Whenever. Just not as much as I expected.

7. Dr. Dog – Shame, Shame

For me, Dr. Dog’s music has always had a glow to it. It’s inviting and warm, and those who would rather talk about the group’s influences probably didn’t feel that quite as much. I’d like to think Shame, Shame is where those thoughts fade away, because this is the strongest batch of songs the Dog has created yet. When my least favorite tune here is the steady title track (featuring Jim James, no less), it’s clear something special is at work.

6. She & Him – Volume 2

I don’t really care how calculated or cultivated the whole thing is. I will listen to these lovely, breezy pop songs forever. I almost typed “simple.” That would have been a mistake. She & Him are making new songs that sound like standards, and that’s one of the toughest tricks there is. I still don’t think of Zooey Deschanel as a musician who acts, but I should.

5. Janelle Monáe – The ArchAndroid (Suites II and III)

I don’t understand why Janelle Monáe isn’t the biggest star in pop music today. She has the ambition of Kanye, she takes far more musical risks than Lady Gaga, her live show is incredible (saw her twice last year), she’s gorgeous, and this, her first full-length album, plays like a hit parade. Perhaps Monáe needs to start some kind of controversy. That’s what sells the most records these days. As if we’re listening to controversy when we buy music.

I’ll stop myself before this turns into a full-blown old man rant. The ArchAndroid is an inventive explosion that puts most modern pop and R&B to shame. It works as both a pop/funk album and a concept album — The ArchAndroid refers to Monáe’s continuing concept, the tale of android Cindi Mayweather. Sounds a bit out there, no? It is. Gloriously so.

One gripe is that the album is too long. A small price to pay.

4. The National – High Violet

High Violet is where it all came together for The National. Alligator and Boxer are great albums, but they both have their dull moments. It’s hard to put a finger on why, exactly, except to say this is just a great collection of songs. The typical mood is established — dark, serious — but it never drags things down. These are well-crafted songs that stick with you.

Even after five studio albums and burgeoning commercial success (High Violet debuted at #3 on the Billboard 200), The National is still an acquired taste. High Violet is the well-aged choice.

3. Arcade Fire – The Suburbs

It took a few listens for this one to sink in. The songs I liked best initially (the title track, “We Used to Wait,” “Sprawl II”) are still my favorites, but the depth is there. It just took a little while to hear it.

The greatest triumph of The Suburbs is how this band can create such bittersweet nostalgic feelings without using any lo-fi recording techniques or falling back on knowing musical nods to the past.

“In the suburbs I — I learned to drive. And you told me we’d never survive. Grab your mother’s keys, we’re leavin.’ “ There’s a mystery to the way Win Butler sings that. It’s like the beginning of a great short story.

The Arcade Fire has released three full-length albums now — all are tremendous. The band remains poignant enough to resonate on headphones and powerful enough to rock arenas. Refraining from historical hyperbole, I’ll just say it’s great to have ‘em around.

2. Titus Andronicus – The Monitor

The Monitor strikes me as a masterpiece. It’s the sound of a band throwing it all out there, and succeeding. It’s been billed as a Civil War concept album, but that concept is very loose — the first song, the towering “A More Perfect Union” name-checks Fung Wah Bus, the Newark Bears, Billy Bragg and makes an almost-obligatory-at-that-point Springsteen reference before it eventually barrels on into the “Battle Cry of Freedom” near the end of its seven-minute running time. Titus Andronicus is serving notice.

The rest of the album, somehow, keeps the momentum going, through songs short and long, through pianos and saxophones, through death, life, piss and Keystone Light. Sometimes, you’ll hear touches of The Replacements, or The Hold Steady (Craig Finn has an obscure guest spot here), or a number of any great bands, but Patrick Stickles’ inspired ranting and raving never lets you forget this is a Titus Andronicus album.

It’s grand, theatrical, ambitious punk rock of the highest order, but American Idiot it is not. The Monitor is fearless, drunken, raw and unsanitized. Don’t hold your breath waiting on the Broadway adaptation.

1. Sufjan Stevens – The Age of Adz

I’ve always respected Sufjan Stevens’ talent more than I actually enjoyed his work. Like anyone who’s heard it, I love “Chicago,” but most of Stevens’ songs are too delicate for me. Gorgeous melodies, floating away into the ether.

The Age of Adz begins with the sparse and pretty ”Futile Devices,” and after that, everything changes. All sorts of noises take hold, as Stevens’ voice dips in and out of these new crashing waves.

Now, Stevens has done more electronically-oriented music before, but I was never too familiar with it. It was clear Stevens wanted to move in a different direction, though, and it was a smart decision from a smart guy. The very first time I heard The Age of Adz, I listened in awe. My main problem with most all “electronic music” is its relative lack of soul — that’s never a problem here. Stevens is pulling sounds from all over the place — orchestral, electronic, conventional, unconventional — and making something completely new and affecting out of the madness. It’s truly stunning. I don’t think of The Age of Adz as an electronic album. I’ve never heard anything quite like this before — it’s impossible to categorize.

The album title refers to (and the cover features) artwork from Royal Robertson, an American artist who suffered from paranoid schizophrenia. After listening to the album, it makes sense. This does sound a bit like the work of a schizophrenic genius.

It’s probably a prerequisite when discussing this album to bring up the closer, the 25-minute “Impossible Soul.” There. I mentioned it. I won’t write about it further than that, because the song is not a gimmick, and doesn’t deserve to be singled out as such. It only feels like another great part of the impossible whole.


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Fifteen Shots or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Self-Publish on Kindle

So, I wrote a novella. It’s called Fifteen Shots, and I’ve released it as an e-book. You can buy it here.

Here’s the book description I wrote for Amazon:

The mother. The dealer. The detective. In Fifteen Shots, the reader drops into the minds of these and twelve other characters during the course of one fateful day. Two teenage girls duck out of school to make a quick purchase from their favorite drug dealer, but the transaction doesn’t go as planned.

The 15 featured characters are all connected to the shocking outburst at the heart of the story. Fifteen Shots is about the reactions and reflections people make during a time of crisis, the jobs that must be done regardless of urgent circumstances, and the thin line between tragedy and survival.

A short, fast-moving novella, Fifteen Shots is the first published work of fiction from journalist Phil Dzikiy. Visit phildzikiy.com for more information.

There you have it. Exciting, no? Also, a quick warning: If you couldn’t tell from the subject matter, this book is not for the kiddies. If you’re easily offended by explicit language, Fifteen Shots probably isn’t for you. Otherwise, you might enjoy it. It’s a quick read, and the few people who have read it so far (all of ‘em straight shooters) have really enjoyed it.

Anyway. I never thought of self-publishing as something I would ever do. I work at a newspaper, and we get plenty of self-published books. They almost never look like something you’d want to read. If you do flip through the pages, you usually find your initial impressions were accurate. Judging a book by its cover isn’t normally a bad call in these situations. (Or judging the book by its quality of photography, paper, font choice, etc.) And many of the books come from vanity presses.

But, again, I wrote a novella. And very few publishing companies — even small presses — will publish novellas. It’s not exactly a “hot market.” (Though I think, if marketed properly, novellas should actually do well in today’s age, what with all our distractions and short attention spans. You might find a novel daunting, but you might find the time to read a novella.) I submitted to one publishing company that treats the novella with respect. And I waited. I worked on other projects as I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, I heard back: No dice. It wasn’t a form letter, and I was informed that “the prose was strong,” but it wasn’t a perfect match, and so on.

So what’s the next step? Very few publishers will even look at novellas, and even if I found a publisher that was a good fit, I’d still have to be accepted. Waiting for that would take months, and if I was rejected, the process would begin again, and I’d be waiting even longer. It could take years, if it ever got published at all. In days gone by, that was the only option, outside of paying for a vanity press to publish my book.

I’d love to find a great publisher at some point (who wouldn’t?), but as a first-time author with no previous published fiction experience, it’s an uphill climb, to say the least. Especially with a novella to sell.

A few months ago, however, a friend enlightened me. He told me about Amazon’s self-publishing program for the Kindle. Told me about the royalties. After a while, it started to sound pretty good. In many ways, the Kindle levels the playing field for authors. I’m selling on Amazon. The Kindle is quickly becoming a dominant publishing force. And perhaps most importantly, my words will look the same as anyone else’s. The words are what matters — not the text. Sure, I don’t have the backing of a major publisher, but my expectations for this book are modest. Most things have been going in this direction, anyway — online, away from the “gatekeepers,” as it were. I suppose there’s no reason why books should be any different.

After enlisting a few friends to read the story, give feedback and check for typos, I did one final edit, formatted the novella for Kindle (not a quick process the first time around), uploaded a cover image and there it is. Instead of worrying about who would publish my book, I allowed myself to get excited. “The book is coming out. It’s coming out! It’s only a matter of time! Nothing can stop it now!” There’s something empowering in that.

fifteen shots cover 4

I designed the cover myself. Maybe I’ll do a post about that process sometime in the future.

Another thing: The price. I set the initial list price at $2.99. It’s the lowest possible price to earn 70 percent royalties from Amazon. I’d price it higher if it were a full-length novel, but for a novella, I think $2.99 is fair, and really, a great deal. It’s less than a fast food value meal — and better for you!

I know there’s a school of thought out there that believes unknown authors should offer their books for 99 cents, just to get anyone to bite. As that thinking likely goes, a cheaper price will lead to more sales, and if a reader likes it, perhaps they’ll be back for more. Personally, as a reader, I wouldn’t buy a book from an unknown author just because it’s listed at 99 cents — especially a novel. Word of mouth and self-promotion are more important than a rock-bottom list price. Even if you do buy that book, what’s going to make you read it? It might just sit there on your Kindle, unread, forever. Or you might not like the first few pages and quit on it. After all, how invested can you be in completing a 99-cent novel?

Plus, $2.99 is cheap enough. If you’re going to sell a full-length novel for 99 cents, I just think you’re devaluing your own work. And if you’re going to devalue your own work, what makes me want to read it? I know some independent authors would disagree. But hey, whatever works for you. We’ll see how this goes. It’s a learning process.

Moving on. For now, Fifteen Shots is only on Kindle. I might pursue other avenues in the future — perhaps other e-reader options, maybe I’ll find a printed edition necessary at some point. But it took me some time to prep the novella for Kindle. For now, I’m just going to enjoy it.

Am I a bit nervous about this? Sure. But that’s how it goes. If you’re going to be a writer, you’ve gotta put yourself out there. You’ve gotta take the leap. I’ve been doing it in newspapers for years (it’s a bit different, but still). On this blog, too, though my posts are often rather silly.

But I believe in Fifteen Shots. That’s why I released it. I hope you’ll buy it. And I hope you’ll enjoy it.

So, in conclusion….