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A True Original

As I sit here lingering on the edge of self-publishing, I decided to read an improbable novel recommended to me by my friend Steve.  Robert Repino’s Mort(e) is an apocalyptic tale about a cat whose single-minded purpose leads to a poignant conclusion.  I won’t spoil it for you; I’m a professional.

I’m always encouraged to see madcap novels published.  The Medusa novel I have out with about six publishers at the moment is bat-shit funny.  It is also intelligent, and maybe that’s my problem.

I know editors, and they are fallible people.  They have sins just like the rest of us.  Their deadly sin, it seems, is not being able to see the potential in a story that’s clearly got it.  Repino, according to Steve, had a tough time finding a publisher for what is clearly a brilliant novel.  His story gives me hope.

It might just be easiest to give up, but when I think this I realize that publishers are starved for good content.  To get to any major publisher, however, you need an agent.  To find an agent you need someone who thinks like you. For a writer that can be a bit of a problem.

Creativity often draws its inspiration from others.  Repino cites George Orwell’s Animal Farm.  Apart from the Bible and Aesop’s Fables, Animal Farm is probably the most famous talking animal book for adults.

Inspiration, however, sometimes comes to you naked.  Something completely new.  Never been done before.  Publishers tremble.  This is something untested, uncertain, risky.  It might not bring in money.

Every publisher takes some hits now and again, taking a chance on something that doesn’t sell.  I understand that.  To get noticed you either have to get lucky or get to be friends with someone who got lucky.  All you need is luck.


Unlike Mort(e), who makes his own future.  And what a future it is.  It’s a great read.  And unlike much that passes under my eyes, it is truly original.


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