Tuesday, August 16, 2011

My Drunken Inspiration










People often want to know what an author's inspiration is for writing a particular novel or story. This is true of some of the folks (unfortunately for my wallet, this is a select group) who have read my first novel, Dirty Hands. For the uninitiated, Dirty Hands is a crime drama detailing what happens after an accidental death at a drunken party. To be brutally honest, the inspiration from this novel came from my heavy drinking days in college.

As with so many young men and women, reaching legal drinking age flipped a switch in me. To say that I could knock them back with the best of them would be an understatement on the par of saying Barack Obama is a good speaker. I might not have drunk friends under the table, but I drunk myself under the table every time.There were numerous occasions when a friend would describe to me some of the ridiculous things I'd done while drunk out of my mind. Of course, I didn't remember most of what was described. I always felt like the person who told me about my drunken self was describing a third person's exploits to me. It couldn't have been me who smacked a stripper's ass hard enough to leave a palm print and came within a hair of being thrown down a long staircase by a bouncer who looked like an all the way Black version of Vin Diesel. It couldn't have been me dancing like John Travolta circa Saturday Night Fever in the middle of a Baltimore County Street.

I always shrugged off the recounts I was given, but inside I felt terribly embarrassed. I felt so embarrassed, in fact, that I would swear off drinking for as a long as a week.I feel very fortunate that no tragic circumstances befell me during my out of control drinking phase. Years later, I began to wonder exactly what trouble I could have gotten into. Thus, the seed of the novel Dirty Hands was planted. I'm glad that my first novel is in no way autobiographical.

Photos? We Doan Need No Stinking Photos

Some visitors to my awesome author's website (http://www.trbraxton.com/, shameless self promotion is the American way) might wonder why there are no photos of me there. After all- isn't that what everyone who promotes themself on the web does? I'm promoting myself on the web- so shouldn't I have pictures?Well, if you must know it's because I was born with a horribly disfigured face (think The Elephant Man crossed with Jabba the Hut). No really, I haven't posted any pictures because I don't see what the mug I wear has to do with what I write. If I were a model or actor, I'd post pictures. But I'm a writer, so I post content.

I also haven't posted any pictures because I'm trying to embrace the anonymity/mysteriousness the internet can offer when properly used. That's one of the cool things about the internet. We can communicate without you having to see me. I could have a bowl of buggers next to the keyboard while I'm typing this and you'd never know. Would you? Am I picking and/or eating buggers right now? Or am I wearing a lime green Snuggie and a Darth Vader mask? So long as I don't post any pictures of myself, those who have never met me will have no idea what I look like.

Think about it. I could walk past you on the street tomorrow and you'd think I was just some guy instead of the reputation lacking self-published author that I am. Look around when you go out tomorrow. Ask a stranger if they're T.R. Braxton. They'll probably lie to you if they are. I know I would. Or would I?Hahahahahahahahahahaha! The mystery of it all boggles your mind. Or does it?You may ask- "But T.R.,What will you do if you sell a lot of books and become well known?" "Surely people will have to see what you look like then?" And I say to that: "No! You won't vanquish me that easily, foul knaves!" Maybe I'll wear a mask to book signings or I'll hire someone to pretend to me - like how people never saw the fat woman who really sang for C and C factory. Not that I'm fat. Or am I?

My Pledge to Write About Writing When I Blog At This Blog Site

I have a confession to make. Unlike a lot of bloggers, I don't believe that my opinion about anything that pops into my head is worthy of sharing with the world. That's why it took a while for me to get into this blogging thing. I figure that since I am a writer (I pretty good one- I just can't deny the truth any longer. It hurts me so!), blogging about writing is alright for me. Shoot, it even makes sense. Therefore, I hereby pledge (Yes, I used the word hereby-I'm a freaking writer, people!) to post only blogs that are relevant to my writing or other people's writing.

Thus, (Yes- I used thus- once again - I'm a cotton picking writer, people. Stay with me!)What I Write About When I Write About Writing was born. For those in the know, yes I did borrow heavily from Haruki Murakami for my blog title. Imitation is the highest form of flattery.