I’m finally doing it. I’m writing a book.
There, I said it, and I’m holding to it!
I’ve wanted to write this book for a long time, but there’s a lot more to the process than simply writing. The abstract idea, “I think I’ll write a book about my time in the bikini business,” sounds like a good one. It’s just chock full of whacky, fun and sexy potential, perfect for the next romantic comedy, but an idea is not a story. I’d thought through a million different angles, went through old journals to find story snippets, but in well over a year, the idea stayed just that; an idea.
Then, out of nowhere, it came to me. The structure of the thing popped into my head. Eight-thirty at night while riding the 63 bus through Park Slope, there it was. I grabbed my notebook and let it all stream onto the page. One thing led to another, and by the next morning I found myself looking at characters, chapter titles, a beginning, middle, and an end. There was even a working title: The Devil Wears Spandex.
Yeah, I thought it was a cute title too, though it’s all but obsolete. The story is taking on a life of its own, shattering the boundaries of the afore-mentioned abstract idea. Two people thrown together by an admittedly outlandish attempt at fame and fortune has become the vehicle to tell the real story—My story.Â
Except now I can edit as I go.
To keep myself on track, these are my self imposed deadlines:
- Have a properly formatted book proposal done and out to no less than 12 publishing houses.
- First draft completed.
- Revisions completed. Properly formatted manuscript out to no less than 12 publishing houses. (Unless of course one of the proposals actually hit home)
- Submit draft to self-publishing company. (50 Copies)Â
- Give those “Limited Editions” to friends and family for Christmas.Â
Wish me luck!
Vinny 
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