Dear Daniel

Dear Daniel,

I know this is going to seem unrelated to what I do and the point of this blog but, for high school I went to a legal magnet. I thought I wanted to be a lawyer. I had my pick of schools. I could’ve gone to my home school, Fairdale, where most of the kids who tormented me in middle school went. I had no desire to endure four more years of hell. Especially when home wasn’t going to feel all that safe and secure either. I could have gone to a performing arts school, but I have to cop to something here. I loved music, I still do, but it wasn’t the driving passion that writing was. And I saw a girl with pink hair and it rattled me. (I’m not proud of that little nugget of information, but there you have it.) Another school structured like a college atmosphere was available to me too. But I was bust living out my dad’s (John’s dream) and determined not to live out my mother’s.

As it stood I would attend Central, excel there in the legal magnet, and realize, thanks to a job in a real law office I wanted nothing to do with the legal profession. Dad wanted me to be Scott Turow or John Grisham. Lawyers who wrote. That wasn’t my path.

Not that I didn’t love music. I was in marching band, concert band, and pep band. I made first cut All-State. I went to one of the music colleges in the nation’s band clinic for three years. It was always so awesome. Like a party with a huge concert every winter. It was fun, and there was a someone who wanted to be a concert trumpet player. He idolized the best of the best.

Kind of like I do with authors, screenwriters, directors, and actors (women are included in those sentiments). Although I was given a stark reminder of things when I saw the list of finalists for Fright Night. Only two other women in 15 (and one of them was my writing partner) were on that list.

Given the current political environment things aren’t so great for my kind. I was anxious about it I wrote a novel during the election season. It was a dark dystopian tale. One that doesn’t guarantee a happy ending for everyone involved. I had little faith in the American Public to do the right thing.

I didn’t think Obama was a god. But he was far, far better than anything the opposition put up. I mean come on, really? Mr. Liar Liar I’m Soooooo Obviously A Man With His Pants on Fire Romney and Mr. I Need My Ass Kicked Into the 21^st Century Ryan were not even fit to hold the office. So even if I didn’t want to vote for Obama, these jokes in positions of power made my decision for me.

I was in such a dark place Breath of Life was born. Really, a hero, a man full of grief and self-loathing and hatred for the world around him lives in seclusion in a post apocalyptic war in which the country, divided against itself fell apart. In his life before the war he was a hitman. As the world fell apart he fought for a time but soon tired of the disorganization and grew embittered by both sides. It’s not until a warrior girl with a tattoo of the Constitution on her back on the verge of death comes, literally, crashing into his life that his world view begins to change.

Eight years ago the election of Obama brought with it, a great deal of hope and promise for me. I mean why wouldn’t it. I couldn’t stand Bush’s politics. And Obama seemed like a refreshing change.

His re-election last November seemed more like a bullet dodged. The IRS ‘scandal’ such as it is doesn’t shake me up. Apparently these so-called persecuted political groups were operation for profit what applying for non-profit status. As far as I’m considered this is much ado about fucking nothing. You played fast and loose with IRS and they came down hard on you. Boo-fuckin hoo.

As for this wire-tapping email reading thing. That’s far more egregious to me. It’s a total invasion of my privacy and is part of what compelled me to write Breath of Life. Stuff like that is EPIC FAIL. I understand there are some unsavory aspects to protecting this great nation, but shit like that really pisses me off. And when the deck is stack against you as it is, a bullshit Congress that does absolutely nothing to get anything accomplished. Well, I could go on, but as you can see I’m pretty passionate about politics too. But I’m including a mock-up of the cover so you can see how lucky I am to write such a thing.

Sincerely,

Amy McCorkle