Interesting Article on Once A Runner

At the end of 2008, Slate.com published a very interesting article on Once A Runner, John L. Parker's novel about cross country. It's an intriguing piece about how Parker self-published the book back in 1978 and--in a vastly different media landscape--sold the book from the trunk of his car. Once A Runner (which, by the way, is a great title) went on to generate a cult following and was recently put back into print by a commercial publisher. It's now generally hailed as the seminal book on what it's like to be a distance runner. Imagine if he'd had today's media--FB, Twitter, blogs, etc.--at his disposal to market the book. Would've made the undertaking a whole lot easier.

Though it sounds like something I'd like, I've never read the book. In fact, I'd never even heard of it until about a year ago. I imagine I'll read it someday, but, at this point--with almost 300 pages written--I'm concerned that reading it might influence my own writing more than I'd want it too. Obviously, it'd probably be valuable see how Parker handled the subject matter, but it could also make me second guess the entire way I went about handling the subject, and I've put too much work in so far to risk the feeling of wanting to trash everything and start all over.

Query and Proposal Sent

I recently sent out a query letter and a proposal to Skyhorse Publishing. Per the company's submission guidelines, I sent my usual query letter and a version of the proposal tailored to their specifications for nonfiction submissions. My proposal is about 75 pages--it took me a while to complete, but I think it's pretty good. It has capsule summaries of each chapter, a marketing plan, a few sample chapters, etc. To be honest, it was kind of a pain in the ass to do, but everyone I've talked to in publishing says a proposal is a necessity for nonfiction.

As far as Skyhorse goes, anyone out there have any experience in dealing with them? They're relatively new on the block and seem like a smaller publisher--something that looks more appropriate (and realistic) for a project like mine than the Random Houses and Simon & Schusters of the publishing world.

Former XC Runner

One crucial aspect of working on this book was going back to run in my old team's alumni race last August. Doing so not only helped me channel some of the feelings I had back in my own high school running days, but it gave me a new perspective on what our team did back when we ran competitively.

I wasn't even close to being in any kind of shape to be running a race, but my good friend--who was on my high school team back in the day and is featured in the book--told me to "man up and run." Even in my thirties, I'm vulnerable to peer pressure, I guess. So, I went out and jogged maybe a mile-and-a-half or two a few days before the race. I seriously doubted I'd be able to run the entire thing without stopping to walk.

The day of the race I found the performance anxiety I used to experience 15 years earlier came right back. I had to pee like five times before the starting gun. When the gun went off, I was stunned at how fast the team's current runners went out. Seemed hard to believe that my teammates and I used to do the same thing. After the first half-mile of the race, I never saw any of them until I crossed the finish line and saw them all standing around.

I finished the 3.1-mile race with an embarrassing 26:09, over nine minutes worse than my best time of 17:04 on that course. At least I was able to run the whole way through without stopping to walk and an ambulance didn't have to be called afterwards. A victory in and of itself.

One thing became abundantly clear to me that day: I am no doubt a former XC runner. Even though I ran for four years (and sometimes ran well) I never thought I was a "real" runner. Since that day, I haven't run one time. Just can't bring myself to do so. At the same time, I can't get the story of our team out of my mind.