Well, I heard back from the publishing company who wanted to read my book, and they said that 1. they can’t publish it as quickly as I hoped, so it wouldn’t work anyway…2. that in the future I probably shouldn’t try to rush a publisher (oops… but, of course I was only trying to be fair and tell them I was already planning to self publish and had already sent out press kits announcing it, so if I didn’t hear from them by the 20th, I would need to begin uploading to Amazon. I sent the query to them 5 months ago….but I get it, and knew it was a risk to attempt it) and 3. right now publishing companies almost exclusively only accept memoirs from subject matter experts, celebrities, and popular social media influencers. They did not end up even reading it, so no feedback on the actual book, but I’m proud of myself for getting the callback response from them. It is a sign that I am a good enough writer, with an interesting sounding book to get the attention of a publisher. Most never get this far, so I will take the achievement and move forward with the regularly scheduled programming…
I’m really not too upset that I’m gonna be self publishing again. A lot of people say it’s actually the best option for mildly successful authors who write the kind of books that speak to a certain type of people more than mainstream society. It’s not like a blockbuster film or summer reading…That kind of stuff does well with a publisher but indy type authors can get totally taken advantage of by publishing companies sometimes, and while I know the place I heard from was a legit small company, I don’t have a clue what going with them would look like, or if it would even be something I could make work. I already know how to self publish even though I’m planning to use my own ISBN’s this time and have to figure all that out, but I’m in control and I mostly know what I’m doing and what to expect, so it’s a lot less anxiety right now to just self publish anyway, and I can release when I said and not be like Kanye.
I’ve been doing a lot of editing, and tonight I made a video of myself reading a chapter from my book, about my first time in the psych ward, and I will post that in a couple days. One day at a time, one thing at a time, I am getting there.
Here’s a picture I took of my street art. It’s hot as fuck out there.
This time last week, I was settling in with my boyfriend on our first night together in two years when he came to visit for 5 days. It was a great opportunity for me to take a break from the stress, socialize, get out, do some fun stuff, listen to some of my favorite albums, watch my favorite movies, and eat my favorite foods…and share them with him, of course. We had a blast. At first my transition back into the daily grind was off to a difficult start and I had a meltdown three days in a row, but the Universe sent me a little sign at the very least, if not some great news, that one of the publishers I sent a query to wants to take a look at my full book. I don’t know if I’ll go with them or not, if they even choose to go with me, but if they do, it will depend on a number of things. I wrote down all my questions tonight, just in case, but I don’t know what to expect. I’m just grateful I got a letter back that wasn’t a rejection. That’s a good sign I’m doing something right.
The rest of this post will be the manipulated photos from my staycation… I took and altered all of the photos, except for the ones of me in the water, which were taken by Koda but altered by me…
I’ve been working on some promotional art and my book cover. Here’s what I have so far. The first picture is something I made using the art of the original book cover in which I decided not to go with, but I put a lot of time into it and thought I could still use it to promote…
“I Write the System” explores how society forces us into separate, binary genders. Intersex people and others who don’t fit into society often fall through the cracks and suffer great trauma, which for Jymi Cliche led to a life of dependence on the very system that abused him from day one, when he was operated on at birth and conditioned to believe he was female.
The book begins with Jymi at age four, exposed to the system for the first time through nursery school, where he knew right away that he’d never fit into this world. The story follows him through school, friendships, addictions, the mental health system, and too much trauma to handle at times. It wasn’t easy for him to rise from the ashes of the constant disasters going on around him and begin to put his life back together. He has dreams of being successful one day, but is still fighting Complex-PTSD, Bipolar Disorder, and a number of other severe diagnoses, along with being a non-binary trans man in the binary system.
Using dark humor and inspirational stories to balance the trauma and struggles, Jymi offers ideas for change and a message of hope. His memoir encourages the idea that in time, things can get better, even if it feels impossible.
Here is the cover… It’s an androgynous baby photo of me in the late 70’s and the layout is meant to resemble a political campaign poster, as well as a classic rock concert poster, and the colors are meant to resemble the pink and blue on the trans flag, but I don’t really like pastel and didn’t want it to look like a baby book, so I darkened it. It is also sort of meant to loosely resemble the American flag, which really doesn’t mean all that much to me, so I am okay with altering it, but I am talking mostly about the American government system when I talk about “the system”.
I’ve done about 14 edits on it and plan to do one more before I prepare to upload it for its September 11th release date…
Someone in a writing group asked a question to the group, “Do you think you are a good writer?”. I thought I’d blog my answer.
Growing up, writing was the only thing I did that people took positive notice of. I was always in the mid-level classes and was failing most of them due to the trauma I was going through, which had my attention spent on other things. I had a reputation as a “bad kid”, yet was also considered one of the best writers in my town, which wasn’t really a small town and there were several famous people from there, including a famous author who once taught English at the public high school… (not to me, but my mom had her).
I had a difficult life though, and after a few years of community college, I had to drop out of school. I spent much of the next couple decades in and out of psych hospitals and hanging out with street gangsters while on high doses of court ordered anti-psychotic injections and going through ongoing abuse that I only just partially escaped a few years ago. All the stress and trauma and chemicals have done so much damage to me, and I’d becoming lazy with texting and social media being the majority of the writing I did. When I wrote my first book in 2013 out of a desperate need to tell my story, the writing was awful and I’m kind of embarrassed by it now, especially since I only just released it a year ago.
However, I spent the last few years as an artist in an art gallery showing my art, performing my music, and talking about intellectual things that got my brain working better. I started reading more and meditating and writing and memorizing songs, I had to learn to self-publish and make web sites and press kits and send query letters and so on. It’s been a hell of a year in growth. I like to think my writing is getting back to the point where I can confidently say it’s not bad. My new book is a huge improvement from the stuff I released last year and I’m feeling grateful to have some of my magic back, but I think the biggest thing that makes my writing decent isn’t so much the writing quality, but the way I simply and honestly explain things in ways in which people can learn from. I present new information in a manor of speaking which helps people to understand perspectives they never considered before. I may not be the best writer to ever live, but I’m decent. It’s something I was born with, and I’m improving day by day as I write so regularly now.
There are still days I think my writing is shit, but I belong to a writing group on Facebook, as I mentioned, and it appears from the questions and feedback I see in there, that 99% of the people in there have no writing skills whatsoever, although some of them are not writing in their first language, but the majority of people in the group are Americans, and they make up about 95% of the authors of millions of self published books on the internet that I compete with to be seen in a sea of available books out there. Anyway, no disrespect to them. If you love to write, then write! It’s okay if it’s not good. It might get better, it might not, but writing is good for the soul no matter the quality. If I have to compete with a sea of terrible books, I know mine will stand out at least a little, and they’re getting better… but like I said, no matter your skill level, I think people should always write or sing or do art or whatever you love, as long as you aren’t driving your neighbors crazy with five hours of vocal exercises every day!!! Live your life your way and try to be proud of everything you create because it wasn’t here until you made it.
I recently got these funko pops of Alfred Hitchcock and Spike Lee, two of my favorite filmmakers. Some day I wanna write and direct a movie.
Anyway. That is that. Here’s a few songs about books that I love… (songs I love, about books, I should say)
I’ve been getting a lot of shade from strangers on the internet as I put myself out there more, and especially when my stuff gets seen by many, which was the case with a comment I got today on my Tik Tok video. It got 18 likes and a number of compliments, which isn’t a ton, but often times I only get a few likes and views. This time tons of people saw it and I got some compliments, but I also got unsolicited advice from a stranger with 4 followers and no videos of their own. He said “You need to throw in better punch lines and think of better rhymes. The words shouldn’t all end in ‘ad'”
At first the negativity hit me hard and I felt like shit, but then realized I was being gas-lit and told the opposite of the truth by someone who was trying to invalidate my work. I’ve been editing my autobiography and there’s something in there about how when I was growing up, kids and teachers used to tell me I was stupid, ugly, fat, boring, and other stuff like that when the opposite was true. I am fat now, but for the first ten years that I was called fat, I was actually quite skinny. I was also very attractive, fairly smart, and extremely unique, even if I didn’t know how yet, but I believed I was fat, ugly, stupid, and boring because those comments were felt much stronger than any compliments I may have received. This dude on Tik Tok saying “all your words shouldn’t end in -ad” took something kind of unique I do on purpose and spun it like it sucked because he had no understanding of it. Yes, I often throw a bunch of similar sounding rhymes into a verse, but unlike the typical lyrics where each line ends in a rhyme, I throw them in throughout the line for a different kind of effect. It was also only a 1 minute clip of a three minute song, so it may seem excessive in that one part, but there were plenty of other rhymes that didn’t end in -ad.
“I gave all that I had/ and was made to feel bad/ for trying a fad/ and not being rad/ and of course there’s my dad/ but I’m not gonna get into that./ Some stuff’s not even in the past.”
That was the one line with all the words ending in -ad. It goes on from there…
“I’m trying to find my independence/I wear an anchor as a pendent/ I’m sending letters to the president/ It’s evident/ that America is doomed/ We can all sit in one room/ but with whom can you bloom?”
So yeah, this dude with 4 followers and no videos whose advice I did not ask, whether it was meant to be constructive or not, was BS by someone who’s likely just jealous.
Keep in mind, when I say someone is jealous of me, I don’t mean because I’m such a handsome, rich, successful, talented artist. I’m not sure I am any of those things… definitely not rich, and success is a matter of how you view it. In many ways I am successful, but the average person isn’t gonna see me that way. My art may be great, I can’t say for sure, but there are lots of people who still think Picasso and Basquiat’s art is trash, and they’re obviously big influences of mine. Hell, there are people who don’t like DaVinci, even with all his skill, I mean, I’m not even such a huge fan, although I do appreciate him, but The Mona Lisa is a bit underwhelming, in my opinion. Still, who the fuck am I to say it isn’t good? (and that’s not even what I’m saying, but many of these haters are.) And I may be okay looking, but I’m not exactly a hottie or whatever. Anyway, my point is that they may not be jealous of my art or my looks or talent, or any of that, but what they are jealous of is my bravery to put my own art out into the world… hell, the bravery to do art at all in the first place. To be able to say “I’m an artist. This is what I created”, and then not only that, but my art clearly exposes my heart and soul in a vulnerably honest way which one can’t help but feel. On top of that, I often say political things that piss off half the population. To bravely put out my opinions and my creations and bare my soul the way I do, I make it easy for haters to shit on me, and it’s hard, but I am brave. A few friends have reminded me of that lately, that bravery isn’t about not having fear or not being hurt by the comments meant to invalidate us, it’s about continuing to speak up and continuing to share our art, continuing to live each day the best we can when the world is trying its hardest to break us. I am one of the bravest people on the planet by that definition. You aren’t being brave if there’s nothing to be afraid of, which brings me to another story…
After talking about not letting the haters get me down, and not listening to advice by strangers who may know nothing about what they’re giving feedback on, and in fact, usually don’t, I saw a discussion in a writer’s group about Beta Readers, which are people who read your book for free or a small fee, and give you honest feedback. Many swear by them, but others say it’s a waste of money and time. I said I’ve thought about doing it, but usually people find these Beta Readers in writing groups and they’re complete strangers. What if my reader is prejudice to my topic? What if they don’t know anything about the topic? What if they don’t read that genre or they’re lacking empathy for people with mental illness or addictions? Why would I solicit the advice of one or two total strangers and take their word on my work when it could be great and just not meant for them? I got a reply right away from what appeared to be a straight, white, Boomer, cis man saying “You worry too much.” I ended up deleting my comment, and his in the process, which I now feel was weak of me, but I didn’t wanna get ganged up on with other replies. I reminded myself the same thing as before; that I’m being gas-lit by people trying to invalidate me. What the fuck does an older straight, cis, white man have to worry about when giving their book to someone to read? Unless he went through a horrible sexual trauma, survived a suicide attempt, spent years in the psych ward, is talking about true crimes or war crimes, or has problems with his dick, there is almost no topic a straight, cis, white man can really be considered brave for writing about. There may be a few other topics, I’m sure, and I’m not saying they can’t be brave for other reasons, but to “bravely” write about a topic, I think there are limits for straight, cis, white men. Most of what they write will be read by people who’ve grown up in a society where the straight, cis, white male perspective is the norm and not to be questioned the way people would question me for what I dared to share in my books. Being told I worry too much is invalidating of the many reasons I have to worry and he more than likely does not. For me to hand my life story to a complete stranger on the internet in 2021, and say “be totally honest and tell me everything you think needs work” would be setting myself up for possible disaster, inviting the wrong kind of person to unleash their hate on me after learning everything about me.
I was just trying to offer a perspective as to why I agreed with many who said it was a waste of time and money. I mean, unless I got someone who I know is not transphobic, is politically left, doesn’t hate people based on past mistakes, etc. My book isn’t for everyone, and I don’t even want the opinions of the average reader. It is hard for me to take criticism of any sort though, and sometimes it pisses me off at first and then pushes me to come back harder. That’s the only way to properly use criticism, but I find that if it comes from a stranger whose opinion was not asked for, and it invalidates what I already created in any way, I’m not gonna listen, regardless. I know I have more to learn, but it doesn’t mean that what I created so far is wrong or bad just because some random dude doesn’t like it.
Speaking of all this, part of me was glad to hear the woman next door singing today. She didn’t sing yesterday and I was worried I made her feel like she couldn’t sing, ever, but she sang today for a shorter time and with her windows closed. I could still hear, but she only did it for a few minutes. I would be okay with this. I’m not someone who has no empathy. I’m a musician myself and sometimes it can be a little loud. I’ve also completely blasted my music late at night and had the cops called on me many years ago, but I’m mindful now of the volume and when I practice, it’s just for about 15 minutes a day every few days…. of course I know I need more practice than that, but 1. I have a million other projects, and 2. I sacrifice it sometimes for the sake of my neighbors, and this woman has spent the last 3 years, including the entire pandemic, making high pitched opera sounds that are like nails on a chalkboard for five hours a day sometimes, every fucking day while standing on her porch with windows open, just a few feet from all our windows on this side of the building. It’s been terrible and needed to be stopped at almost any cost, but I was a little relieved to hear her sing again, as well as the fact that she was more mindful about it this time…but I was glad I didn’t break her spirit completely. She is brave and continuing on.
Here is a picture of a graffiti sticker I bravely stuck over some racist graffiti I found last month. I was happily surprised to find it still there…
