So, it's official. The world is coming to an end. Or it's at least turned upside down. I published! No, that's not what's bringing the apocalypse about. It's the fact that what I published was not a short story or a novel, but an essay. Non-fiction. That may not sound like cause to stock up on canned goods and crossbows, but it kinda is. My whole life, I've devoured books. My parents literally had to take books away from me so I would eat and sleep. The percentage of those that were non-fiction (outside of school assignments) was less than one, until adulthood. Even now, I read the odd essay or travel guide, but my written diet still consists mainly of fiction. And now I've written and published an essay called "The Dystopian Future in Joss Whedon's Work" (Joss Whedon: The Complete Companion, Titan Books; www.popmatters.com).
I guess the reason I broke with tradition and wrote-and submitted-something that wasn't completely fictive was being able to write about fiction. I know; it's like a disease. But really, what could possibly be better than engaging in one of your passions (writing) about something else you love (stories)? Maybe this was perfect. I got my foot in the door, or maybe just a toe, and I got to write and share my passion for good writing at the same time.
Even though I sometimes hate him for killing off characters willy-nilly, I owe Joss Whedon a lot. Not only has he shaped my writing, he's gotten me published. Hopefully he never discovers this and decides it entitles him to a cut of everything I make from writing....
