Author Bio: Justin Ordoñez was born in Spain, raised in the mid-west, and currently lives in Seattle. He's nearly thirty years old, almost graduated
from the University of Washington, and prefers to wait until TV shows come out on DVD so he can watch them in one-shot while playing
iPad games. For fifteen years, he has written as a freelance writer, occasionally doing pieces as interesting as an editorial, but frequently
helping to craft professional documents or assisting in the writing of recommendation letters for people who have great praise for
friends or colleagues and struggle to phrase it. Sykosa is his debut novel.
The
Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award and the Devolution of the Species.
I’m a confident individual—not cocky or
anything, just I’m fine with the unknown, and I don’t (in what is one of the
biggest advantages to adult life) fall victim to swings in esteem dictated by
writing, girlfriends or sports. I have a belief things work out in the end, so
I don’t bother pretending I know the whole plan. I suppose I was used to this
quiet serenity, as comfortable with it as I am the jeans I wear too often
between washings, that I took it for granted, and didn’t realize how fragile
confidence (and sanity) can be. One day I’m the Zen master of my little slice
of reality, and the next I’m livid, and like Jack Nicholson when he turns into
a really really big jerk in The Shining.
Also, I’m in a crosswalk, cars stopped for me on both sides, and surrounded by
people who do not know I’m about to surrender to an adult temper-tantrum the
likes of which have not been seen since medieval times, when you could get
serious about your crankiness.
The industry refers to it as the Amazon
Breakthrough Novel Award.
I call it the Destroyer of All Things Good
and Pure and Beautiful.
Let me expand on this.
People have read my writing, I don’t mind
sharing it, and I enjoy getting feedback. That said, I’ve never seriously
pursued traditional publishing. For one, all the authors I know in the industry
rarely speak highly of it, and two, you can’t make enough money to justify what
they’re gonna do to your book. Basically, I’m still Busch League at this whole
publishing game, even the self-publishing one, and in sharing my work on such a
broad scale, which is why, when I decided to self-publish Sykosa, I put myself through a vigorous mental and spiritual
routine meant to strengthen me for the task.
I thought I was strong as steel.
Little did I know, the Destroyer of All
Things Good and Pure and Beautiful had me in its sights.
Part of the University District in Seattle,
a tiny café called Café Allegro has its entrance down a murky, garbage filled
alley. It’s the kind of place you almost never find in real life, but
characters on TV are always taking hot dates to. “Just ignore the plague
diseased rats and that dead hobo, if we go a bit further, I swear, there’s a
nice restaurant where I’ve made reservations for us.” I was meeting up with a
friend, he was explaining the contest, how to enter, and said, “Submissions end
this weekend, you should do this.” In the past, I had investigated the contest,
but I never had a document ready for it. This year was different. And I was
mentally and spiritually prepared…remember? At home, I typed up the entry
forms, a quick synopsis of the book, submitted it, and then—believe it or
not—forgot about it. And when I say, “forgot,” I don’t mean in the, “I’m
actively trying not to think of it,” sense. I mean in the, “I’ve lost my car
keys, but I’ve also forgotten I own a car, so I never look for my keys and
wonder when that jerk is going to move his car from the front of the house,”
sense.
Weeks pass before, as I’m innocently
crossing the street, heading from one meeting to another, I decide to use my
smart phone to check my email. There it is. “Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award –
Second Round Selections Announced.” I think, Oh yeah, it’s that thing I entered. Being a smart phone, I need to
use my fingers to resize the website so I can locate what I need, and during
this, I review the contest in my head. It’s
the first five thousand entries cut down to one thousand. The top twenty
percent make it. Then, it finally happens. The most dangerous thought a
person can have. What a joke! Of course,
I’m in the top 1,000. I reach the PDF file of those moving onto round 2. My
last name being Ordoñez, it’s once again a bit of finger scrolling, and it
allows time for more thoughts. What if I
didn’t make it? No way, that’s not possible.
I reach the Os.
I’m not there.
In an instant, every snide look, every cold
shoulder, every time anyone ever hurt me, assembles itself into—what I’m
conservatively describing as—an atomic fireball of anger, hate, fury and rage. Can you believe these idiots? What moron
said no to Sykosa? This is why humanity is going to go extinct, because people
are so stupid they can’t see a good book when its staring them in the face!
I’m so upset I don’t realize I’ve stopped in the middle of a crosswalk, people
having to jar to circumvent me, car drivers impatiently staring like, This is why humanity is going to go extinct,
because people are so stupid they can’t even cross the street! I stare and
stare and stare at the PDF and I can’t believe it.
Sykosa—my novel—didn’t make the top 1,000 entries.
Then, I notice none of the names beginning
with O are last names. It’s the same thing with the Ns and the Ms. Carefully,
methodically… Who am I kidding? Like a crazed child forced to wait an hour to
go Trick or Treating because their sibling is suffering a costume malfunction,
I attack my smart phone as the Americans did Normandy, slamming at the screen
again and again until I reached the Js.
“Justin Ordoñez – Sykosa.”
All I can say is that, upon seeing my name,
I lost that which sets humans apart from our ape cousins. I jump, slamming my
fist into my chest, thinking (but thankfully not shouting), Oh yeah! All the time, I knew it! Never any
doubt, baby! As people stare at me in real concern, drivers wondering if
this is the side-effect of a stroke, I spin several times, then throw my
backpack to the ground—overwhelmed, overcome, over everything! I finally
collect myself enough to leave the street, but my limbs are shaking and I cannot stand still. I
know enough to know, in five or six seconds, my facilities will return; for
now, I might as well be a 6’4”, 230lbs infant. A coherent thought materializes.
They alphabetized the list by first names
instead of last. Wow, that was close. That was… Dear reader—in a calm,
collected, cool manner, not at all with a psychotic eye twitch, frayed hair
standing on end, and the menace of a man who compulsively lights and re-lights
a cigarette lighter—I nearly fainted, experiencing near total psychosis and
perhaps doing nothing else besides drooling a river onto myself.
They alphabetized the list by first names…
They alphabetized the list by…
They alphabetized…
They alphabi….
They alpha…
They….
OMG, WHO DOES THAT!?!?!?!?!?!? WHY IS THE UNIVERSE
THIS WAY? IS THIS SOME KIND OF SICK GAME?!?!? ARE THEY WATCHING ME FROM THEIR SATELLITE
FEEDS? LAUGHING? LAUGHING HYSTERICALLY AND HIGH FIVING EACH OTHER? I DON’T
UNDERSTAND! I DON’T UNDERSTAND! HOW COME MY MOM ALWAYS GAVE THE AFTERNOON SNACK
TO MY SISTER BEFORE ME? SURE, WE GOT THE SAME SNACK, BUT IT HAS TO MEAN
SOMETHING! IT HAS TO! AND WHY DIDN’T LYDIA SAY YES TO THAT DATE I ASKED HER ON
IN SEVENTH GRADE? DOESN’T SHE KNOW WHAT SHE MISSED OUT ON? CAN’T SHE SEE HOW
GREAT I AM? WHY DOESN’T ANYONE LOVE ME? WHY IS THE WORLD SO EMPTY? ALL WORK AND
NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY. ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY. ALL
WORK AND…
And…
And…
And that’s why I refer to the Amazon
Breakthrough Novel Award as the Destroyer of All Things Good and Pure and
Beautiful. In what took a micro-second, I experienced what Robin William’s put
so classically in Good Will Hunting, “You ripped my fucking life apart.” I’ve
never been hurt like the Amazon corporation hurt me on that day. I’ve never
been cut so deep, nor taken by such surprise—I know I love writing. Fifteen
years of doing it every day, for free, and with nothing other than my passion,
has taught me I love it, but I didn’t know I love it this much. I didn’t know I
was so vulnerable. I didn’t know I could be so human. And now I’m a shattered
version of my previously so sure self—pretending I’m not counting down the days
until March 20th when the next cut is released, to see if I’m there,
to see if Sykosa can leap another
hurdle.
Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award, I love
you. I love you, and that’s why I hate you so much. And there’s nothing you can
do to make it better.
Nothing.
(Well, winning would go a long ways to
making things right…)
Justin
Ordoñez is author of “Sykosa.” It’s a YA novel about a sixteen year old girl
who’s trying to reclaim her identity after an act of violence shatters her life
and the life of her friends. Intense as that sounds, it’s actually a fun read,
and it’s hilarious at many points. It comes out in April 2nd, 2012,
and you can read an excerpt here: www.sykosa.com/excerpt.html. Also, to be notified when Justin releases
more blog posts in the future, please “like” Sykosa’s facebook page at www.facebook.com/sykosanovel.
Thanks for visiting Justin!
Check out the book. Follow the links above.
2 comments:
And that is why Amazon is the worst company in the whole world!
BTW, great job Justin
Thanks! It's my internet debut, tried my best!
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