Writing has often felt like something I needed to do but lacked the time to do it well. For this reason, a lot of my early work was not unlike a kind of guerilla warfare. I was always looking for an opportunity to write: to dive in, drop a few creative bombs, then get out before I was late to any real-life responsibilities. I wrote at the DMV, the car wash, in the garage. I scribbled on notebooks while I got my teeth cleaned and carried a pad of paper with me whenever I went on a jog. My wife grew tired of all the times I woke up in the middle of the night and rummaged through the nightstand drawer for a piece of paper and something to write with. I could not control when the inspiration would strike, so I had to be ready.

            I wrote a lot of stuff in the beginning that was pretty terrible. The online community at CritiqueCircle was very good at tearing my work apart. Strangely, realizing I was a horrible writer turned out to be very helpful. It prompted me to begin searching for the idiosyncrasies that irritated readers, tear out the bad stuff by the roots, and finetune other aspects that went over well. Slowly but surely, the negative comments about my work grew more and more positive. The online strangers provided a great deal of insight I couldn’t get from cautious friends and family. Online strangers are not worried if they crush your soul, and my writing has improved because of it.

            In 2012, my writing entered a new phase in which I created a garage-office by cannibalizing discarded yard sale furniture. I am not sure if Virginia Woolf would have been proud, but for me, it was the best place of my own I could find. I began scheduling time to write keeping to a tight schedule with mandatory daily word counts. By doing this, I was able to finish my first novel in 2015. Binding Program was a ninety-thousand-word story that was sort of a mix between Isaac Asimov’s I, Robot and Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale. At nearly the same time of the book’s completion, I received word that a small sci fi magazine wanted to buy a short story of mine. “Remember the Sunflowers” became my first paid submission.

            Getting a story published and finishing my first novel was a huge boost in confidence. I took this over-inflated ego to a writer’s conference in Irvine, California. Gathered in a Wyndham conference room near the John Wayne airport, I met hundreds of other hermetic introverts like myself. I had a blast meeting new people with similar interests. And aside from all the friends and critique partners I made at the conference, I was also able to glean lots of insight on how to break into the publishing world. One speaker in particular emphasized the need to create an online persona. She explained how important it was to treat your writer identity like a marketing tool. This got me thinking because I already had a career. At this point, I had been teaching seventh grade for seven years. I taught adolescents, but my writing was clearly targeted toward adults. While not explicit by most standards, it still isn’t kid friendly. So that’s why I created the pen name, K.C Aegis. The ironic thing is that soon after I created the pen name, some other writer, a dude named—you guessed it—Mark LaMonica published a book called Renaissance Porn Star. So even though I changed my name to avoid awkward questions about my work, fate stepped in and made it happen anyways.

            After the contest, I used my online persona to seek out writing contests and potential markets for my work. I got organized, systematic, and stalkerish. I began following the online habits of potential agents. I paid attention to what they were looking for and drafted queries based on their interests and “wish lists.” At the same time, some of my new friends from the conference let me know about some writer contests on Twitter. Through these, I got a lot of practice pitching my work in short tweets. This got the attention of a few editors who offered help refining my query and suggested other places to pitch. This led to me discovering the small publishing house, Del Sol Press. They offered a First Novel competition in which the two finalists would win a trip to New York where they would get to meet a bunch of big-name editors in which to pitch their work. I figured, what the heck? I didn’t think I would actually win.

            In addition to the incredible trip to New York, the contest judge offered to be my agent and began actively pitching my story. We got several bites and near misses. Several editors expressed interest, but said they could not build a consensus with the other editors in their publishing house. Things were not looking good for my first novel, but then an unusual thing happened. My agent informed me that an imprint of Penguin Random House was impressed enough by my writing that they wanted to know if I would be willing to flesh out an idea for them. What I really wanted was for them to publish my first book, but figured this might be the way to do it. Also, the money they were offering was very real and hard to turn down. Signing the contract meant I wouldn’t have to spend my summer slaving away in a poorly ventilated tool and die shop.

            I had to drop out of the Master’s program to work on the book for them. I was thrilled and terrified. I received weekly encouragement and praise from the editor, but in the end, the project sort of fizzled into an empty void in which I lost a year’s worth of time. Everything about the book deal was strange, so I guess I shouldn’t have been so surprised when it ended strangely as well. My agent assures me that the failure wasn’t my fault, but I think it stands without question that if I had written a better book, or understood better what exactly the imprint wanted, then maybe they would have let me finish what I’d started.

            In any case, the death of the book deal allowed me to get back to my original pursuits. I threw myself back into the Master’s program and the novel I had been working on for the Master’s project. I had finished the first half of it during the 2017-2018 semesters. Now, the prospect of finishing the thing was enough to distract me from the soul-crushing disappointment at having achieved and then lost the fabled book deal. 

            By the end of the Master’s program, I should have my next novel ready for query. I don’t know what will happen, and I am not holding my breath. All I know is that this writing journey I am on seems to be picking up speed. Whether the destination is just around the corner or somewhere far off beyond the horizon, I figure I won’t know until I get there.
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            Thanks for reading. 

            When I was a sophomore in high school, my English teacher gave me a zero on a writing assignment and accused me of plagiarism. Having written the story entirely on my own, I was baffled. After class, I inquired about the grade and asked who she believed I had copied. Her response did nothing to alleviate my confusion. She said she did not know who I had copied, but there was no way a sophomore like me could have written it. To be fair, I was not a typically good student. With most my focus spent on sports and girls, my classwork was frequently half-assed and disorganized. So while my teacher’s assessment angered me, I had to admit her prejudices were not unfounded. 

            In hindsight, this episode would become a pivotal moment in my life as a writer. Because while my teacher believed I was not capable of writing anything of merit, her doubt planted some unusual ideas in my head. Primarily, by saying the writing was “too good” for me, it meant that on some level, the writing was good. I had been devouring fantasy and sci fi novels for over a decade, but it took my teacher’s doubt to convince me that I might someday become a writer myself.

            This pursuit would dictate my future. After high school, I got a degree in English from Cal State Fullerton, then later earned a teaching credential. All of this was with the understanding that I would teach to support my wife and kids, then spend summers pursuing a writing career. Since 2008, I have been actively pursuing this goal. It was my Prime Directive. In the time since, I have realized that the road traveled by writers is often a lonely affair. The way is marked with dangerous pitfalls, dizzying highs, and soul-crushing lows. The last few years have presented some mild victories. First starting with my first paid publication in a Sci Fi magazine, followed by contest recognition, agent representation, and an on-again-off-again book deal, I find myself with just enough encouragement to keep going.

            Along the way, I am grateful for the English program at Cal State Fullerton. It has provided me with a foundation in literature and theory that I could not get anywhere else. As French essayist Joseph Jourbert once said, “One who has imagination without learning has wings without feet.” The CSUF program has given me the “feet” in which to stand. Over the course of both the graduate and undergraduate programs, I have been exposed to all sorts of literature that has helped shape my understanding of the medium.

            Dr. Caldwell’s presentation of Medieval Literature made me fall in love with episodic storytelling within a larger frame narrative. Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales has been a huge influence on my writing. This brand of storytelling mixed with the fantastic, sci-fi elements found in Dr. Sander’s Romanticism courses have helped establish the kinds of stories I want to write myself. And while Medieval Literature and Romanticism have helped me develop a flavor of writing, other courses have provided knowledge and confidence on how to present my ideas. Some of the many highlights include speaking at the 2018 Acacia Conference, Dr. Blaine’s course on ancient comedy, Dr. Stanton’s course of the Sonnet form, and Dr. Ruiz-Velasco’s course on shifting perspectives within the American novel have all contributed to my love of reading and writing. In addition to these courses on literature, Dr. Kelman and Dr. Westgate’s courses on theory have helped me understand how literature works and communicates across global paradigms. Their courses have only deepened my appreciation for this field of study.

            Looking to the future, I cannot foresee any reality in which I am not writing. Shortly after beginning the Master’s program in the Fall 2017 semester, I began working on a novel-length project. My studies in Classical Mythology, Medieval Literature, Shakespeare, Romanticism, and Critical Theory have all played a part in its development. I am excited about the project, but if anything, the last few years have taught me to be cautious.

            Near the end of the Spring 2018 semester, my literary agent contacted me with an amazing opportunity. Apparently, the publishing house, Berkley, an imprint of Penguin Random House was interested in my writing. My agent had previously submitted one of my stories to them for consideration. I was asked to pitch several ideas to them about a sci fi thriller they wanted me to write. I spent a month drafting and editing proposals and was pleasantly surprised when they offered a book deal. This was definitely a high in my writing career, but it would not last. After working on the project for a year, the contract was terminated. To say this was devastating is perhaps an understatement. But oddly, just like my sophomore English teacher, the rejection has only encouraged me to try harder.  
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            By the end of the Master’s program, I should have a completed novel ready for query. Dr. Sander’s Creative Writing class and Dr. Norton’s Project Writing class have both served or are serving to help workshop the project so that it can be as good as possible. I have already pitched the project to my agent who expressed confidence. That said, I hold no illusions about my prospects. I understand how difficult it is to get into the publishing world. The good news is that whether the book is published or not, I know I will not stop trying. Writing is in my blood and I will forever be thankful to CSUF for giving me the confidence and motivation to keep going.