The Writer with the Master Number Clears the Deck

Two years ago, when I released the 3rd Dako­ta Stevens install­ment, I read one of those rare books that gave me a much-need­ed kick in the ass. Here is the quote from that book that had the great­est impact on me:

“So many unfin­ished projects wait in draw­ers, in clos­ets, and on hard dri­ves. They rep­re­sent the stunt­ed growth of their cre­ators. The projects wouldn’t nec­es­sar­i­ly have been ground­break­ing or huge­ly suc­cess­ful, but their true val­ue lies in the lost cre­ative poten­tial of their cre­ators. Ship­ping is the key to mov­ing on to the next adven­ture.”
— David Ush­er, Let the Ele­phants Run

tptt-3dAfter I read Ush­er’s inspir­ing book on cre­ativ­i­ty, the next day I went through my crates of writ­ing and iden­ti­fied the books I want­ed to fin­ish and ship so I could move on in my work.

I am begin­ning this task with the release of the fourth Dako­ta Stevens install­ment, The Per­fect Triple Threat. Ama­zon Kin­dle pre­orders for the book have already begun; the print ver­sion of the nov­el is avail­able now; the Kin­dle ebook comes out on Decem­ber 23; and the ebook will be avail­able for oth­er plat­forms (Nook, Google Play, etc.) around Christ­mas.

Then, through­out 2017 I plan on fin­ish­ing and releas­ing three books:

1.  A book of plays.

2. A book of humor­ous auto­bi­o­graph­i­cal stories/essays.

3. A Paris memoir/travelogue.

This is my way of clear­ing the deck to make room for the new writ­ing I’m doing now, a mem­oir, which I hope to release late in 2017, but more like­ly some­time in 2018.

The thing about writ­ing that most read­ers don’t real­ize is that there is often a con­sid­er­able time gap between when a writer writes a book and when it’s pub­lished. Usu­al­ly, a writer’s “new release” was start­ed 3–5 years ear­li­er and was fin­ished as much as two years before pub­li­ca­tion. Dur­ing that two years of wait­ing for the book to be pub­lished, the writer has often moved on to new char­ac­ters and new gen­res, and has grown in skill and what s/he has to say.

This has been the case with me. The book I’m writ­ing now (a mem­oir about my life at age 16) rep­re­sents a quan­tum leap in all aspects of my work: sub­ject, craft, depth and mean­ing.

10348856_10204580273280370_1973038987793901413_oAdmit­ted­ly, up to now I have been pri­mar­i­ly focused on find­ing “suc­cess” as a writer. I’ve want­ed as many read­ers as possible—hundreds of thousands…no, mil­lions of them. I’ve want­ed ado­ra­tion from fans and praise from crit­ics. I’ve want­ed to be accost­ed by read­ers in air­ports and sub­ways cars and told how bril­liant I am, how amaz­ing my words and sto­ries are. In short, I’ve want­ed the world to notice me, and I’ve want­ed a big pile of mon­ey to show for my efforts.

Of course it would be nice to one day have these things—the vast read­er­ship, the crit­i­cal acclaim, the money—but they are no longer what dri­ve me.

This year, I under­went a spir­i­tu­al trans­for­ma­tion, dur­ing which I came to under­stand that I was giv­en my gifts as a writer for much more than mate­r­i­al “suc­cess”; I have been put here to be of greater ser­vice to human­i­ty.

Back when I read David Usher’s Let the Ele­phants Run and began decid­ing which projects I want­ed to fin­ish and “ship” so I could move on cre­ative­ly, I was guid­ed to read about numerol­o­gy. I learned about my rul­ing birth num­ber (22/4) and its sig­nif­i­cance. Here’s what one arti­cle has to say about us 22/4s:

“This is the mas­ter num­ber. Peo­ple born as 22/4s have almost lim­it­less poten­tial and often make their mark in life by achiev­ing seem­ing­ly impos­si­ble goals. … These peo­ple are suit­ed to work as lead­ers in prac­ti­cal­ly any busi­ness or cul­tur­al orga­ni­za­tion. They excel at what­ev­er they attempt, be it in art, writ­ing, pol­i­tics… This is the mas­ter num­ber whose bear­ers have the most respon­si­bil­i­ty to human­i­ty. They are self-con­fi­dent, high­ly intu­itive and sen­si­tive…”

Anoth­er arti­cle I read empha­sizes this respon­si­bil­i­ty to human­i­ty, how we 22/4s need to achieve and build things greater than our­selves:

“With the 22/4, it’s all about break­ing out of your safe­ty and secu­ri­ty zone and mak­ing more of an impact in the world around you. Know that this is rather scary and some­what for­eign for you because you grav­i­tate toward the tried-and-true and erring on the safe side. Yet know that the Mas­ter Num­ber 22/4 is the most pow­er­ful num­ber in Numerol­o­gy. (Did I just hear you gulp?) Yes. It’s a rather big deal. You’re meant to achieve and build some­thing that makes a dif­fer­ence on a grander scale—and that won’t feel com­fort­able.”

a-writer-never-has-a-vacation-for-a-writer-life-consists-of-either-writing-or-thinking-about-writing

This arti­cle goes on to say, “Under­stand that you prob­a­bly won’t come into your full pow­er as a Mas­ter Num­ber 22/4 Life Path until lat­er in life—into your 50s and beyond. It takes a while to get enough expe­ri­ence under your belt to find your pas­sion­ate focus. Be patient and know that you’re here for high­er-lev­el ser­vice in the world.”

Some promi­nent 22/4s in his­to­ry include Mark Twain, J.D. Salinger, Woody Allen, Frank Sina­tra, Clint East­wood, Steve McQueen, James Mich­en­er, J.D. Rock­e­feller, Immanuel Kant, and Mar­garet Thatch­er.

Besides each being one of my idols, what do they all have in com­mon?

They’re mav­er­icks.

And so am I.

So, why do I bring up all of this numerol­o­gy and 22/4 stuff? Because over the next year, read­ers are going to see a dis­tinct shift in my work—away from safe, tried-and-true genre books (e.g., The Dako­ta Stevens Mys­ter­ies) to writ­ing of a grander scale that has more to say.

Over 25 years ago, as a young writer read­ing every­thing he could on the sub­ject of writ­ing, I read The Writ­ing Life by Amer­i­can essay­ist Annie Dil­lard, and came upon a pas­sage that grabbed me by the spine and shook me. As any good writer does when s/he reads such a pas­sage, I wrote it down in my jour­nal:

anniedillard_thewritinglife“Write as if you were dying. At the same time, assume you write for an audi­ence con­sist­ing sole­ly of ter­mi­nal patients. That is, after all, the case. What would you begin writ­ing if you knew you would die soon? What could you say to a dying per­son that would not enrage by its triv­i­al­i­ty?”

Every day I now remind myself that I’m writ­ing “for an audi­ence con­sist­ing sole­ly of ter­mi­nal patients,” and that I, too, am one of those ter­mi­nal patients.

And although I’m mov­ing on to write oth­er, more mean­ing­ful work, by no means am I aban­don­ing Dako­ta and Svet­lana. I will return to them in time, and when I do, my ulti­mate ambi­tion is, in the tra­di­tion of my hero, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, to write a series of per­fect gem short sto­ries fea­tur­ing them. I envi­sion myself work­ing on these sto­ries over a peri­od of years, so that the result­ing col­lec­tion is a mas­ter­piece. It will be my homage to Doyle, Holmes and Wat­son. In the mean­time, if read­ers miss Dako­ta and Svet­lana, they can just reread the four books I’ve already writ­ten.

c03592e5-55a9-4ec0-a926-677d59816592Besides Usher’s remark­able book on cre­ativ­i­ty and works on numerol­o­gy, through­out 2015 and 2016 I read a num­ber of Great Books that I hadn’t read in their entire­ty before, includ­ing the Bible, War and Peace, The Ili­ad, and The Odyssey. As a phi­los­o­phy and reli­gion major in col­lege, I read a lot of the Old Tes­ta­ment and the New Tes­ta­ment piece­meal, but nev­er the Bible cov­er to cov­er; and I’d read Tolstoy’s Anna Karen­i­na half a dozen times, but nev­er dared to crack open War and Peace. The point is, these incred­i­ble mas­ter­works have inspired me to aim high­er as a writer. I know I was put here to write some­thing great, so it’s time for me to put behind me the work I’ve already writ­ten and move on to new adven­tures.

The jour­ney ahead for me and my writ­ing is uncer­tain. There will be pit­falls (and a cou­ple of “lame” books), I’m sure, but I’m hop­ing that those of you who have been my loy­al read­ers up to now will stick with me.

I don’t know exact­ly what form(s) my writ­ing is going to take in the com­ing years, because instead of focus­ing on myself and my own suc­cess, I’m shift­ing my focus to writ­ing work “that makes a dif­fer­ence on a grander scale,” that some­how ben­e­fits all of human­i­ty.

With grat­i­tude for all of my read­ers,

Chris

By Chris Orcutt

CHRIS ORCUTT is an American novelist and fiction writer with over 30 years' writing experience and more than a dozen books in his oeuvre. Since 2015, Chris been working exclusively on his magnum opus. Bodaciously True & Totally Awesome: The Legendary Adventures of Avery “Ace” Craig is a 9-episode novel about teens in the 1980s. It’s about ’80s teens, but for adults (in other words, it’s decidedly not YA literature), and he’s applied this epic storytelling approach to the least examined, most misunderstood, most marginalized narrative space in American literature: the lives and inner worlds of teenagers.

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