About a year ago I met a stray cat. It was breaking and entering on a daily
basis, and like the resident cat, whenever I caught the little intruder in the
act I hissed at it, and chased it away.
Little by little I happened on the kitty cat again and again, invariably
being chased by something. A dog, or a
cat, or just a sound that had spooked it.
I guess I had a flashback of that plascon ad where you see a black cat
on an odyssey through sewers, sprayers, crossing grimy railway tracks and
surviving dog-infested suburbia only to slink into a home and luxuriate against
the smooth [plascon-painted] walls. So
my heart went out to the little fella, and giving out cupful’s of Felix’s cat
food at breakfast soon turned into bed & breakfast.
Groucho
I christened the interloper Groucho, because of her shy
nature when you reached out to stroke her.
Groucho could be affectionate, as long as it was on her terms. Very soon, since I was alone at home, Groucho
and I bonded. When she was AWOL I began
to worry about her. Getting to my room
and avoiding the mutts and Felix was a daily gauntlet run for Groucho. Unfortunately, it was the near escapes and
drama with other animals that brought Groucho’s free board and lodging in my
bedroom to an end. But having witnesses
the poor yellow-eyed critters efforts at survival, I wasn’t going to give her
up to the SPCA. I made a special appeal
to my father [who has taken on an orphaned Springbok, a seagull, a sheep and a
Blesbok] and fortunately the appeal succeeded. Groucho found a new home and
lived happily ever after.
Contraction
At about the same time Groucho’s survival was hanging in the
balance, mine was too in a sense. In
2014 I’d lost several of my permanent gigs with publications like Finweek, Explore,
Fitness, Afropolitan and other magazines.
At the same time I’d started writing for Amazon, primarily on the Oscar
trial. That was a gamble that paid
off. For 200 straight days I sold books,
but once I hit December interest flagged, and flagged rather precipitously. So I decided to take on a fulltime job at the
university as a facilitator. After a few weeks that fell through; the
university had over-estimated class sizes and so when excess facilitators had
to be trimmed, I was one of the unfortunate [or as it turned out, fortunate]
cutaways. I remember feeling very conflicted
taking the facilitator job, getting the regimented curricula and having my
freetime sliced and diced. Of course
losing the job suddenly made me feel…well, extremely anxious.
It was around this time that I suggested to my
California-based co-author that we write something for the American
market. True Crime, but for an American
audience. At the same time I had to
decide where to re-commit my time. To
the tried and tested industry of photojournalism [that I knew was contracting
every hour], or to the slightly tried and mostly untested world of writing
ebooks. It was kind’ve a big gamble and
kind’ve a big deal. I won’t bore you
with the details, but I put most of my eggs into amazon, investing only in the
magazines I liked most – GQ and Country Life.
The Tide Turns
It didn’t take very long to see results in the Jodi Arias
books. I’d say the Arias stuff outsold
the Oscar stuff by at least 5:1, maybe two or three times that. In the end Lisa and I wrote 6 bestselling
books, and we’re doing a 7th in the first quarter of 2016. Jodi’s
sister Angela has just been arrested on battery charges, and the Jodi Arias
trial lawyers have or are about to both release their versions of the world’s
craziest court case.
It’s funny how the rollercoaster rolls. The Arias books saved my skin, and so I suggested
to Lisa that we just keep doing what we were doing. Our next project was Amanda Knox. Amanda Knox turned out to be a whole new
ballgame. Unlike Oscar and Jodi, Knox
was ultimately acquitted, so the dynamics are very different. There’s also a lot going on behind the scenes
that people aren’t aware of. Suffice it
to say when I published Deceit all hell broke loose. When you have time, go and read some of the
60-odd reviews, and notice the level of vitriol and abuse levelled at yours
truly.
Some of these people are paid to sabotage, undermine and
discredit folks like me, and when you’re paid to go after someone, by gum,
there’s your incentive. The Knox books
weren’t as popular as the Arias books, but both sides, the Justice guys and the
Pro Knoxers are extremely committed to taking each other out. Lisa actually had to call one particular
hairdresser from Seattle that got out of hand, and we also tracked her down and
sent her a cease and desist letter from an attorney. It’s amazing how foul-mouthed and confident
people are in their anonymity, but once you speak to them in person, they
suddenly grow not only manners, but a conscience. Needless to say we haven’t heard from the
hairdresser since, although dozens of
fake avatars are doing the rounds, and we often get troll reviews from obvious
fakers. This can be heartbreaking at
times, because I am making a living out of writing, and someone comes along
with their indignation and venom, and their dishonesty can sometimes cost us
sales. Maybe it’s a pair of shoes, or a
tank of petrol, but it does cost us, and it does add up.
Making Money Out of Tragedy
I get the accusation that I’m some kind of vulture making
money out of tragedy. My answer to that
is twofold. Firstly, what job do you do?
I bet I can make a few allegations about selling out, or working in a
job you hate. The point is, you can either work for someone
else, bring to fruition someone elses ideas.
All my work is my own ideas. I
decide what I’m going to do, when, and how I’m going to do it. If money was the object I doubt I would be
writing, and if it was to make money out of writing, in the Arias case for
example, it would make a lot more sense to demonise Jodi and valorise Travis. We’re trying to be more authentic than
that. We’re trying to have our stories
actual mean something to people. Guess
what, some people hate that. Some people
want to hear Jodi evil Travis good and that’s a five star book for them. We’re not here, Lisa and I, to make money out
of tragedy, but meaning. Do we want to
get paid for our efforts? For the days
and nights spent extracting blood from stone, you better fucking believe
it. Although we love our work, it’s
still work, and only fools would work for free.
The making money out of tragedy argument is a non sequitur, sorry.
Secondly, I enjoy my
work. I’ve written fiction and care the
most about my BLOODLINE series; so far True Crime is more popular than the
fiction. My first choice would be to
write fiction, but I have bills to pay. I
care about justice, and I care about the stories [and the people in them] I’m
writing about. I’m very invested in it, because
I care about the truth and the law. It’s like accusing a man for marrying
someone for her looks, or a woman marrying a man for his money. Maybe you do, but maybe you like them too. Maybe I’m making money writing books about
criminals, but I love my work. Can you
say the same? When you get up in the
morning do you get up, clap your hands and you can’t wait to get your hands
dirty? I love my work so much I’m almost
addicted to it.
Finding Balance
Long story short, while last year this time I was cashing in
my cards and taking up a job, by losing that gig I ended up redoubling my
efforts. Guess what. Right now I’m earning more than five times
what that job would have paid. I’ve also
moved beyond writing about crime to writing about mountains, and movies. These gambles have also paid off
handsomely. At the time of writing the
numbers are at all-time records, even the R/$ is better than ever for me [since
I get paid in foreign currency].
With so much success it’s been tough to call a timeout at
the end of a book, or the end of a day. And so, often I haven’t. The results has been a few scary hours and
days with severe chest pains, the result of excessive sitting and zero exercise
[and often a very poor diet exacerbated by chronic sleep deprivation]. There’ve been a few days where I’ve felt
moments away from a heart attack.
And so I’ve recommitted to getting a proper balance in time
away from the keyboard, outside, doing half Ironmans, climbing mountains and
the like. One of the highlights of 2015
was doing a Park Run in Durban in 24:12 [a new PB], doing a 70.3 the very next
day, and the day after that climbing Mount Aux Sources alone in the
Drakensberg, camping on top [alone] and climbing down.
Travel
Travel this year has been amazing, especially the trip to
Namibia through the flowering abundance of Namaqualand. This year was the first time I’ve ever seen
the flowers on the West Coast during Springtime. It was like an endless Garden of Eden. It literally felt like a beautiful garden in
ways that the Garden Route simply doesn’t.
Namibia was an incredible adventure too; from digging out
the Mercedes with my flip flop in the middle of the night, to seeing an
Aardvark in nature for the first time.
The Fish River Canyon at sunset and that whole wilderness, with its
haunted car wrecks and Gemsbok playing sentinel, brought home the power of
Keith Alexander, and the importance of following one’s bliss.
Ghost of Girlfriend’s Past
It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved
at all. In 2015 I briefly but unexpectedly
reconnected with someone I’d known earlier.
Someone I respected a lot. Not only was this completely unexpected but
also very special. I guess all I can
really say about it is the world can suddenly open up, and suddenly it becomes
something like a haven filled with red carpets and possibility. Oh the places we’ll go! What can one say about beauty mixed with intelligence? About brawn? About steely determination? What’s not to love? But all good things must come to an end, and
then one can’t help second-guessing not only oneself but also the other
person. Am I little more than an ego boost
to you, or am I loved for who I am? It’s
easy when you love someone to give, to pay someone the gift of attention, to go
into overdraft, but sometimes it feels it can be all about them too – about a
selfish need all in aid of someone else’s inflation, for someone else to feel
good about themselves. Is that what it
is? If so it’s not love. It’s just ego masturbation. Whatever it is it’s
powerful stuff. Imagine if you could bottle it and sell it. On the label it would say: THE SLAYER OF
DREAMS.
End of Year
The year has ended on a good note. For the first time one of my books has
reached #1 on Amazon. I've reconnected with friends far and wide, I've reconnected with family too. I've also reconnected with my own values, especially the percolating desires for fitness and living a full life. It seems to me between 2005 and 2015 I've gone through a broad slump. There were interruptions, but things in general seem to be ticking wildly upwards again. At last!
Groucho also
brought the van der Leek family together.
I can’t remember much of last Christmas or New Year’s, but this Christmas
was the first time since I can remember where the whole family was together and
there weren’t any issues. Groucho had
something to do with that. Candice
adopted her, which meant whenever I went to see how she was, I also saw Candice
and she saw me. I guess we both saw each
other as human beings capable of giving a rats ass about some poor critter, and…I
guess there was some mutual redemption in that.
Other Highlights
A few days ago I met the guy who introduced me to the whole concept of publishing direct to Amazon. He's picked up a nice job at DSTV and is moving house and home to Johannesburg. We had a really good lunch, but halfway he confided something. He said, what I have achieved, being a full time successful author is a dream I've achieved that's still eluding him. For all his success he said he wished he was in my shoes. I guess it's great to be in my shoes. I've worked helluva hard but it's paid off, and hopefully will continue to pay off.
Other highlights this year included interviewing Lewis Pugh
for GQ and signing on Roland Schoeman to do his biography. There were a few lowlights, some of which
involved Grey College and some of the greybeards there, but all in all it’s
been a very successful year. Sitting in
trial with Lisa was a highlight, but there were many besides. We’ve even been
offered movie contracts for our books. Thank you to everyone who has contributed to our success, whether it is was reading a book or simply showing an interest in our work. Thanks especially to Liz Phillips and Lisa Wilson, you both know why.
2016
Towards 2016 we’re developing a big expensive SHAKEDOWN
website where readers and fans and those interested in the latest case can
throw their toys. I’m doing the 70.3 in
Durban in June, and planning on shaving an hour or two off my previous
time. I’ll be doing more books about
mountains and movies and health, but there’s still one apiece in queue ito
Oscar, Jodi and Knox. We’ll probably
also cover Cosby and Durst this year. I'm hoping to live a healthier and more balanced live in terms of fitness and nutrition.
I
hope to get some airtime this year, perhaps it’ll be Mauritius and or
California. Maybe it will be closer to
home, Madagascar or Mozambique.
I'm counting on the next 5 years as being just as good as this one, in spite of a very challenging context ITO world and local economics, anxiety and what not. I'm counting on me to deliver, and thus far I have.
I’ve
taken risks and paid off, and I hope in 2016 you will too. Sometimes rescuing
an invasive irritating cat can work miracles in your life, down the line – YOU JUST
DON’T KNOW. But when you listen to that
little voice, not the voice telling you not to do something, the voice that
wants you to jump recklessly into living, and giving. Try it! Follow your bliss, whatever that means to
you. Be brave and I hope you find that
experience of life just as I have, and find it again and again and again.
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