The Best Year of My Life - An Epic Adventure in 12 Parts: March

For the final 12 days of the year, I thought I'd look back at my 2012 and determine why it was the best year of my life. Every month brought new adventures, achievements, bits of awesome that worked to make my world a happier, more fulfilling, more exciting place. Come along with me, won't you?

March

Starting the month off in Disney World is never a bad portent. Joe and I eat lunch at Mama Melrose in Hollywood Studios. I fly home on the second, and three days later, Bruce Springsteen’s Wrecking Ball comes out. It’s fantastic and I’m so happy. At the end of the month, my friend Neil and I took in one of the first 10 shows of Springsteen’s tour; unlike with the Working on a Dream tour, a lot of the new material made up the core of the setlist. I blissed out and Neil bought me an awesome red tour shirt. This would mark the first of several times I would go see my favorite bands with my favorite people.

Upon my return home, I began to build programming for Sketchhaus. I started writing my favorite performers and seeing if they want to do stuff. A lot of people did, which I didn’t anticipate. I discovered almost immediately that my physical proximity to the theater was a huge boon for me. I’m forever writing stuff at the Starbucks near the theater, and performers are always coming in. I’d get them to pitch me some ideas, and they would, and I’d give them stage time. Could it really be that easy? As it turned out, it could. Pretty soon, the schedule for May began to form, and I was looking forward to building June.

Around this time, one of the theater people, Sam Ike, wrote to me about maybe putting on a show featuring people from all the existing sketch troupes – like a supergroup of sketch. I thought it sounded like a fine idea, so I started contacting people and they responded. People sent me scripts. I started casting. Sketch Avengers was coming to Sketchhaus in June.

I turned in my manuscripts for This Terrestrial Hell and Surf’s Up, nervous but thrilled. These weren’t maybes. My editor had read and liked my work, and was going to publish my books. On my way.

I wrote two reviews for FEARnet.com, and wrote six poems: “Fourth on Green,” “Shackles,” “8:55,” “Passenger Seat,” “Roscoe,” and “Delta County.”

At the same time, I started working on the edits to I’m On Fire … and realized, somewhat happily, that I’m a better writer than I was when the book was first written in 1999. It didn’t need some light work; it needed an overhaul. I also needed new hardware and software to really dig into the editing – my laptop was getting a little too heavy to lug around everywhere, and I thought an iPad would be the answer – and in order to do that, I needed to take as many extra bar shifts as I could. Which then cut into my writing time. It was like a poisoned gift of the Magi situation. On top of that, while my publisher gave me advances for my nonfiction, I would only get residuals for my fiction; nothing up front.

My friends suggested I start a Kickstarter campaign, which I reluctantly did. I wrote a blog entry called “Kickstart My Art” and posted it on March 20th. I did a lot of things wrong. I only let the thing happen for 2 weeks, which is a huge no-no. I offered only digital work for incentives. And I may have asked for too much - $950.

To my absolute astonishment, I got more than what I asked for in a single day. In. A. Single. Day. How humbled, and awed, and stunned I was by everyone’s belief in my writing. The entire thrust of my friends' confidence in me, I vowed to make I’m On Fire the best damn book it could be.

And my arms were noticeably bigger.

Books read: Sixkill, by Robert Parker; Devil In the White City, by Erik Larson; I, Fatty, by Jerry Stahl; Just A Geek, by Wil Wheaton; Archie: A Celebration of America’s Favorite Teenager, by Craig Yoe; and Stay Close, by Harlan Coben