In my creative life, the people who have helped me along the way fall in two basic categories. The first are those I have given money to: website designers, advisors, marketing people, promotion experts, public relations gurus. We talked, we agreed upon a price, and they did the work.
The second group is a little different. Here, we talked. We got to know each other, we understood each other’s principles, goals, talents, and philosophies. And if their talents complemented mine, if their passions, ethics, and goals were the same, then we decided to work together on a specific project.
No money changed hands. We simply created an agreement that we both would do our part to get this project done, we collaborated and communicated, no matter how long it took, and we would both win only if the project won. We became partners.
Now, the first group of people, the ones I paid, are long gone. I don’t even think I remember all their names. But the second group is still with me. In some cases, we’ve completed our first project and moved to another one. And another.
I have three such creative partners.
The first is Tara Tomczyk, editor in chief of Blydyn Square Books. Tara was tired of the decades she had spent in the brick-and-mortar publishing world and even more tired of the books they were turning out. She wanted to create her own publishing company and promote the type of books that were getting ignored. We started to talk, we met a few times, I gave her the rough draft of Thirty-three Cecils, and even before she had formed a company, we began to work on it.
This may sound like the end of the story of my partnership with Tara, but it’s just the beginning. Besides helping me make the book the best it could be, besides financing it and publishing and promoting it, Tara traveled to book release parties and promotional events—just for comparison, when my first two books were published in the 1990s, I never even met my editor. But Tara came with me when we launched Cecils in Binghamton and was at the very first book release as well as a few writers’ events we were invited to.
After Cecils, we started working on another book called The Invention of Everything and Tara did the same thing there. And once again, she traveled to support book events. Even when the book became the subject of a documentary, Tara came to both the filming and the premiere.
Tara and I email or talk practically every day on different projects we are both working on. She is the first person I went to regarding Rewiring Everett, and her advice, direction, and willingness to help was crucial.
The second creative partner I have is an individual named Brian Esquivel. Brian is a film producer who is developing Thirty-three Cecils into a major motion picture. Brian’s pedigree is long: He first cut his teeth on the HBO series Entourage and then branched out from there.
Brian has put up with a lot from me over the years, from having movie posters made and sent to him long before we even had a script outline to having reporters call him for comments on a story about the film when we hadn’t even began working on the screenplay yet.
Brian was patient. He took my messed-up script and turned it to a working story that could be filmed. He focused on finding directors and others who believed in the book and the film and began to build a team. Brian didn’t watch the clock. He didn’t have a time frame when he would call it quits; he just believed in the project and knew we would all get there eventually.
I went to Brian with my idea for Rewiring Everett, explaining how I wanted to take the concept from the novel and film and try it in real life. Brian was very supportive and helpful. His support was my last test: I knew we had something worth developing.
Which brings me to my latest creative partner. His name is Quinn Butler—which is the coolest name ever, by the way—and he is this bright, optimistic, and energetic journalism student at NYU. We talked. We got to know each other. I told him about Rewiring Everett and he asked a lot of questions, bringing up some very important points and coming up with insight that I didn’t have. Our goals and philosophies matched, so Quinn became my partner in Rewiring Everett. He’ll be responsible for all the things that I suck at, which means everything except writing this blog, the book we are working on, and sticking my fat face in front of the camera for the platform videos and interviews with others. All the real work, the important stuff—that’s all Quinn.
Why am I telling you this? Well, for two reasons. The first is that in my experience, this creative partnership idea works. I mean, it really works. So, I am giving it to you and advising you to go get a few partners of your own because these relationships are amazing and important.
In anything creative, in anything out of the box, don’t pay someone to help you. Find a partner who will be there with you and will share the rewards at the end. Post an ad, start reaching out, take your time, and find the right person.
And find people who aren’t afraid to tell you when an idea needs work, when it might be going in the wrong direction or is just plain stupid. These types of individuals are invaluable. Work hard for them and they will work hard for the project, because you both win when the project wins.
The second reason I’m telling you all this is to let you know that there are some very smart, very passionate people I respect very much who are working on, advising, and ready to help with Rewiring Everett.
It may not work—and that’s kind of ironic because we don’t even know what that means yet, what it will look like if this does “work.” But we will be honest, we will be transparent, and we will have fun. And we’ll show you everything we come up with.