Two and a half years ago I started writing a book. Initially, I just wanted to jot down some stories, collect them in an anthology and sell it as merchandise while touring around and playing folk shows.
I had a story that I believed to be so good, that I figured it would tell itself.
It is a story about friendship. It is about the person that introduced you to the alternative side of life. It’s about the misadventures of youth. It’s Huckleberry Finn or Tom Sawyer with bad ecstasy.
Like most things in my life, I underestimated the difficulty of the project by a landslide. I worked on it everyday and it took years of my life. It made my music suffer and just when I thought I finished, I would be challenged by a new idea and begin another draft.
I met a lady while doing a residency at the Banff Centre, who was a fellow storyteller, author and librarian. She put in countless hours of editing and proof reading with me. I used the Writer in Residency program at the Calgary Public Library and went over partial drafts with another accomplished writer. I asked friends to read and critique it for me. I joined the Alberta Writers Guild and started shaking hands and kissing babies.
It has grown into a story that I am very proud of. I’m now putting in my final hours on the final chapters of the final draft. Over the next few months I’ll be sharing bits and pieces with you through different social networks.
The book is called “I Am The Lizard King.”
(And yes, that’s a Jim Morrison reference)
The following is a sketch by my friend Curtis "The Mushroom King" Manchur.