David On Writing

“When a writer is able to experience the whole range of human emotions, from deep depressions to glorious highs, it creates a whole inventory of feelings and musings from which he can choose and infuse into his words and characters.” –David Perry

“For writers, everything is research.”  –David Perry

The exact moment when writing a novel became a target on my radar is branded into my consciousness. It was in my third year at college. Killing time between classes, I was lounging in a large, comfortable chair, with my legs flopped over the arm like a rag doll, reading Robert Ludlum’s The Bourne Identity.

Ludlum’s vivid imagery and pulse pounding plots transported me from the quiet library to the streets of a post-war Europe. I was standing beside Jason Bourne, breathing the same air, feeling the breeze against my face, experiencing his pain and terror. It was a literary epiphany. I wanted put my skills to the test.

But, pharmacology, medicinal chemistry, pharmaceutical calculations, anatomy and physiology all demanded that I spend my waking hours studying so that some day I could help ease the ills and pains of society. However, the small voice would speak to me from time to time, reminding me that expressing myself through the written would was an addiction from which I could not be cured.

Voracious reading continued to fuel my desire to someday sit down and write that novel. My first attempt was a very rough draft about a pharmacist who discovers patients mysteriously dying in his hospital. The working title was Significant Deviation. That novel will be published in November 2013 under the title Second Chance.

I married and had a son. I stuffed the project away so I could attend to the important matters of raising him and dispensing medication and advice to my patients. After a divorce, I found myself with more free time on my hands. I said, “It’s time.”

I spent two and half years writing The Cyclops Conspiracy, another year having it edited and reviewed and another six months refining it. I rose at five in the morning before work to write. I stayed up late to write some more. I wrote on my off days and weekends. My friends began to wonder why I had become a recluse. But only a handful of very trusted friends were allowed inside the inner circle about my true endeavor. Even, Alex , my son, was kept in the dark until he found the manuscript. On the promise of death preceded by extreme torture and badgering, I made them vow not to let word leak out about what I was doing.

In part, I did not want anyone asking me when the book was coming out every time I ventured out of the house. In part, I was afraid my work would not see the light of day. Whether or not I have successfully transported the reader into the fantasy I have created will be determined by the reader alone. This work is meant to entertain. My sincerest wish is that you will come away satisfied that you have been pleasantly distracted for a few hours.

Having completed this segment of my journey into the publishing world, I have a new found and profound respect for all authors. Putting pen to paper and expressing the exact words in the exact sequence needed to convey a precise thought is not an easy task. To do it well enough that readers will buy your work in large numbers is a further testament to the skill and perseverance of great writers.