Well, ladies, gentlemen and all other mutants or misfits who may read this at some point in the next 31 days, I'm giving up the good fight for the career I first realized seemed to be my calling after the religious salvation experience I had in April 1997. Apparently writing fiction is NOT God's Will or plan for my life, given my failures beyond getting a few dozen stories published (only three paying any money) and about five novels either self-published or through Dark Moon Press. I wish those titles well for anyone still interested in reading them. I can no longer write additional novels or short fiction, or finish any incomplete projects currently on my hard drive. Sometime later this year, I will be facing abject poverty and become completely broke. I may be homeless in 2013 once evicted from where I now live. I have not sold enough books this year or last to make any substantial royalties. I have sold no stories anywhere this year - three last year being the high point of my earning power as a writer. I cannot get another dead end job after losing my last one unexpectedly due to a prolonged illness and recovery. God has not blessed my career efforts in any major sense. Like most would-be professional authors, I'm stuck being unable to sell my work to any market offering serious money for short fiction or novels. I mainly don't know how to promote my work, and have created self-drawn covers that are embarrassing examples of my lacking drawing artistic skills and put people off from buying the stories inside even if it sounds interesting. My self-published books cost less than similar sized volumes by conscious design, but they still DO NOT SELL. Some folks have criticized my writing style as being too far above the average reader or having too many long sentences, too much description (sometimes of the minor characters), too many long paragraphs and not enough dialogue in places, and the list could go on. If I had an editor/proofreader (better than I am apparently), the books might be improved for the thankless work from another set of eyes. If I knew a talented graphic artist that I could afford to pay (say $100 per cover plus one free copy of the final novel), my visions for how the CreateSpace covers should look might become a reality. I can't draw worth crap not even at the level of a half-baked cartoonist.
I only estimated the date when selecting the pen name I'm known by as a writer, remembering now it was about two months after buying my first Internet-ready computer in June 1999, but may have taken earlier stabs at writing fiction in 1997 and 1998 (based on the earliest versions of some novels and stories I found among older Word Perfect files from that period on my first IBM 1989 model computer). Today, I end my writing career effectively with a heavy heart, even though few if any would care. I cannot do this any longer and it's breaking my heart. I don't want to stop writing fiction, but there's no future in it for me any longer. All that's left in my future is survival, and perhaps not even that little.
The only way I could retract this professional obituary in any official sense is if the 10-page writing sample I sent to Ace Books on August 11, 2012 (the day before CreateSpace released it as a self-published paperback) from Sister Helena of the Sword generates that publisher's interest. If Ace wants to see the complete manuscript or offer me a book contract for that novel, I will restart the career and John X. Grey can rise from the ashes. Otherwise, this website will probably be coming down eventually. The odds of a major publisher showing interest in any already self-published novel for one of their 2013 publication offers is probably slim to nonexistent. Things like the story of Eragon's success by that route is rare, as with any success story in publishing. I'm not a teenage prodigy who was homeschooled by parents that funded his fantasy novel about dragons' self publication like Christopher Paolini. No publisher would ever be interested in my personal story as proof I'm a potential best seller. I guess I should legally change my name to Natural Born Loser (couldn't afford the legal work necessary to do it now) - because to the world's point of view that's exactly what I am. Rest in peace - John X. Grey. I'm just plain old nothing sad sack Edwin Ray Haney from now until the day I finally die. Thirteen years of my life were wasted in pursuit of a failed ambition, but sometimes the ride seemed fun.
I only estimated the date when selecting the pen name I'm known by as a writer, remembering now it was about two months after buying my first Internet-ready computer in June 1999, but may have taken earlier stabs at writing fiction in 1997 and 1998 (based on the earliest versions of some novels and stories I found among older Word Perfect files from that period on my first IBM 1989 model computer). Today, I end my writing career effectively with a heavy heart, even though few if any would care. I cannot do this any longer and it's breaking my heart. I don't want to stop writing fiction, but there's no future in it for me any longer. All that's left in my future is survival, and perhaps not even that little.
The only way I could retract this professional obituary in any official sense is if the 10-page writing sample I sent to Ace Books on August 11, 2012 (the day before CreateSpace released it as a self-published paperback) from Sister Helena of the Sword generates that publisher's interest. If Ace wants to see the complete manuscript or offer me a book contract for that novel, I will restart the career and John X. Grey can rise from the ashes. Otherwise, this website will probably be coming down eventually. The odds of a major publisher showing interest in any already self-published novel for one of their 2013 publication offers is probably slim to nonexistent. Things like the story of Eragon's success by that route is rare, as with any success story in publishing. I'm not a teenage prodigy who was homeschooled by parents that funded his fantasy novel about dragons' self publication like Christopher Paolini. No publisher would ever be interested in my personal story as proof I'm a potential best seller. I guess I should legally change my name to Natural Born Loser (couldn't afford the legal work necessary to do it now) - because to the world's point of view that's exactly what I am. Rest in peace - John X. Grey. I'm just plain old nothing sad sack Edwin Ray Haney from now until the day I finally die. Thirteen years of my life were wasted in pursuit of a failed ambition, but sometimes the ride seemed fun.