“Will Get Back Soon”: Stop Waiting, Start Writing

Posted by David Duhr in ABCs of Writing      6 comments

May
14

Discussion questions: What keeps you from telling your story? What’s your most vicious procrastination method? Would you ever hire a ghostwriter to tell your story on your behalf? If there were a film adaptation of your life, who would play you on screen? Let us know in the comments!

A client of mine died a few weeks ago and his story went forever with him. I was writing it for him.

And I think it gives us a good opportunity to talk about waiting, procrastination.

Let’s call him Harry, and forgive my lack of specifics — we were under an NDA. Anyway, the details aren’t important.

Early in the twenty-first century Harry was an active participant in a scandal that made national news. Ever since then, he longed to tell his side of the story, partly in an effort to take the accountability he felt he needed to take, partly in an effort to clear his name.

But he dragged his feet. And then he dragged his feet some more. The years kept piling up, and Harry’s name and presence fell further and further out of the news.

Harry came to WriteByNight in November 2023 for help on a nonfiction book, a detached, impersonal exploration of the field he worked in. We had a couple of proper coaching sessions and looked at pages, but it soon became obvious that Harry saw this project as little more than a stepping stone toward the one he was truly interested in: a memoir.

Over the next several months we discussed the idea. But Harry still didn’t feel ready to write the book.

Eventually he did feel ready to test the waters of the publishing industry, so together we wrote a query letter and a book proposal and, using the one sample chapter he’d written, years ago, we reached out to a handful of agents in the fall of 2024.

More than the usual amount responded with personalized rejections, as opposed to the form letters or straight-up ghosting so many of us are used to.

Harry finally felt like the time was right. So in January, more than a year after Harry first came our way, we signed an agreement for me to ghostwrite his memoir.

From then on, it felt to me that Harry’s entire demeanor changed.

In the first of a series of interviews, I had to drag answers from Harry. But as we talked more and more about his life, Harry’s eagerness and excitement level blossomed. By the time a couple of weeks had passed, it became difficult to get him off the phone.

I sent Harry a first chapter. He liked it.

I sent Harry a second chapter. He loved it.

During our conversation about the second chapter, as he pointed out minor inaccuracies and missing commas, Harry stopped talking mid-sentence, then said, “I should’ve done this years ago.”

I’ll admit that at first I was hesitant to take this project on. For one thing, ghostwriting a book is a huge commitment of time and energy and creativity. I have an entire business to run; I have an entire novel to write; I have an entire family to enjoy.

For another, I felt morally… let’s say mixed about the project. But I believe everyone has the right to tell his or her story. And every reader has the right to give a shit about it or to not give a shit about it.

By the time Harry and I hit our stride, I was emotionally invested and all-in. I even felt like we were becoming friends. He invited me multiple times to fly to where he lived so we could talk in person and I could have access to all of his files.

I was heavily considering it.

On a Thursday, I wrote Harry to say I was a day or two behind pace for getting him a third chapter. He’d asked me to read two hefty books, and it took more time than I’d budgeted for.

Harry replied: “Am in hospital for possible cancer diagnosis.”

Obviously alarming, but moments later he sent a one-line email, a simple joke that made me smile and relax.

The next Wednesday, only a day late as it turns out, I sent Harry the third chapter. He wrote, “Will get back soon. Can’t concentrate yet.”

I replied, asking if he’d gotten bad news.

Never heard from him again.

A week after my last email, Harry’s son emailed to tell me Harry had died.

I don’t know if Harry read Chapter 3. Probably not.

But I hope so. He would’ve liked it, a lot. I included a few wisecracks (in his voice) that were straight up his alley, and depicted an event at which he’d made what some thought an inappropriate spectacle and others found to be an absolutely hilarious cameo. I’ve seen video of that appearance and am nearer to the latter category.

That’s how I want to remember Harry: Full of piss and never afraid to put on a show to prove a point, especially in defense of what he felt was right.

But he’ll be remembered by many others mostly, or even only, for negative reasons, and that’s an awful shame.

Don’t wait. Tell your story.

WriteByNight co-founder David Duhr is fiction editor at the Texas Observer and co-host of the Yak Babies podcast and writes about books for the Dallas Morning News, Electric Literature, Publishing Perspectives, and others co-founder of WriteByNight.

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