His name is Michael Snyder

Please note: the following text is written in all honesty and hasn't not been exaggerated for comedic, dramatic, or otherwise ______ effect. Not I normally do that. I'm just saying....

:::takes deep breath:::


Today has ranked as one of my Top 10 best experiences. Ever.

Remember yesterday I mentioned going to the library today for a lecture?

Today, I got to meet Michael Snyder, author of My Name Is Russell Fink.


Michael was one of the most unassuming, humorous, down-to-earth people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. In a small group of probably fifteen people, at our small-town library, he enlightened us with his tale of getting published. If you pick up this book, it is plain to see how he got to this point; the man flat-out has talent.

I was beside myself with excitement to get to the library. As a matter of fact, I arrived 25 minutes early. I had brought his (my?) book to read whilst I waited and laughed out loud at a line. Alone in the room, I turned to see if anyone was coming to shush me. The main character, Russell, is describing the neighbor who seems to not care for his dog, Sonny. Here's an excerpt:


He's called the cops on Sonny no less than a dozen times, claiming
disturbance of the peace. He even tried to sue us for destruction of private
property, but my father's lawyer was able to prove that Sonny's urine actually
nourished our surly neighbor's rosebushes. He's convinced that Sonny impregnated
his precious Betsy, a hairless terrier. Who could really blame him, what with
the way she flits around her immaculate yard in her argyle sweaters and cutesy
hair bows? But whether Simmons chooses to believe it or not, Sonny's been fixed
for ages.

See what I mean?

If you happen to be in Tennessee, or nearby, he is going to be at the Southern Festival of Books October 10-12.

I strongly encourage you to get this book. If you don't like it [and that is highly unlikely], he does make a deal with his readers. It was that entry that I decided he was cool and worth checking out. He does write for the Christian market, and honestly, I had never perused those shelves. After reading this book, and his mentioning a few others today, the list of books to read has lengthened a few more feet. Much the chagrin of my husband, I am sure. With Books-a-Million just opening a mere 3.3 miles from here and all....

I know I briefly mentioned this a while back, but I started a book almost a year ago. A month ago, I started a second book. I didn't intend to do that, but one morning, out of the blue another character popped up. I attempted to ignore her for a few days, but she is relentless.

I told Big Daddy a couple of weeks ago that I intended to finish by book(s) but doubted they would get published. Not that getting published was my ultimate goal, but wouldn't that just be gravy?

I am just a mom, a substitute teacher, college student, and wife. It was my contention that my story wasn't good enough like J.K Rowlings or Diablo Cody. Today, the greatest thing I took away from Michael's lecture was that everyone's story is good enough. Sure, there is a bit of luck that goes along with it (not to mention hard work), but a talented writer will be picked up if that is his or her goal. A writer who wants to write, writes.


There are several folks I would like to thank in giving me one of the greatest days of my existence (in no particular order):

My history instructor. Because we aren't allowed web-based source for the movie analysis, going to the library was essential. I would not have known about the lecture otherwise.

Elementary teachers. Since no one called in sick, I did not get called into teach. I have to wait 3-8 days for Amistad to arrive from Borders (see above). A day alone was perfect timing to get some hard- copy research done.

Big Daddy. When he called and I said, "There is a lecture at the library tomorrow about getting a book pub-" He cut me off by saying, "Cool. I'll be taking the boys with me tomorrow." Of course, I do have to "pay him back" and help with the weenie wagon* tomorrow. Pfft.

Dr. Campbell. She is the professor that encouraged me to submit my essay to the school's literary magazine. (I waited until there was only 30 minutes left to submit--I didn't think it was good enough) She also got me to see that the voices in my head were characters, and I didn't need medication. Without that constant encouragement and support, I would not realized I could in fact, write.

And Michael. The lecture today was indescribable and beyond my expectation. If the only publications I can add to my credit is an entry in a community college arts collection, this blog, and two [hopefully complete] books on my hard drive, I will always call myself a writer--something I wouldn't have yesterday.

Have you got his book yet?

P.s He totally knows I was going to blog about this.

***Updated to add: I asked for his permission to blog about this; I am beyond flattered that he took the time to find me here. Thanks again, Mike!
Also, I can't get the quote to block properly. I do apologize for that technical error.