Tom’s Story

I first thought about writing as a profession in college. It was a turbulent time in my life. Tennis, always a place of refuge for me, was losing its hold. My family life was in a state of disrepair. Pain, anger, even disillusionment had swept through our household, something we were unwilling (or unable) to speak to. It was around this time I read Less Than Zero. The novel, about an alienated, drug-addled college student on Christmas Break in Los Angeles, hit home. Here was a young man with seemingly everything—money, looks, friends—who’s so numb he can’t act. Bright Lights, Big City was published soon after, another stylistic novel about America’s struggling youth. These books moved me at a time when little else did. I wondered if I might one day do the same thing—use language and emotion to create stories as these writers had.

Ten years lapsed. I met Susan and got married. We started a family. I was working in the corporate world at the time, yet something felt missing. It wasn’t that I hated my career path, just that when I examined my interior life it was filled with literature, music and film. In my head I was living the life of an artist, but elsewhere there was this hole.

My wife and I made a plan. She’d be the family bread winner and I’d stay at home with the kids while pursuing an MFA in Creative Writing. Those were good times. We moved around the country and met amazing people. I drove the kids to soccer practice and dance, sat in on piano lessons, and wrote in the early morning or during naptime.

Moving in Stereo, my novel about a professional tennis player battling demons on and off the court, would have been a different beast if I weren’t fortunate to teach/train at Nick Bollettieri Tennis Academy when Agassi, Courier and Monica Seles were stationed there. Nick had a profound influence on me, and in the making of this book, from his nurturing ways with players, to the spirit and competitiveness on the grounds. There was something extraordinary at work seeing his students rise to the top of the world’s tennis stage.

Moving in Stereo was more or less completed in 2015. I sent the manuscript to literary agents in New York. And the rejection letters piled up. Like music and film, the literary landscape had changed. People were reading less. Publishing companies weren’t taking chances on unknown writers. But that’s only part of the story. I’d changed, too. What I found was, the longer my role as stay-at-home dad went on, the harder it was to see myself as anything but that. I continued to write and send out occasional short stories. But I was essentially hiding out in my office, afraid of rejection, afraid of taking chances, and not truly embracing the role of writer in these transforming times. Once I understood how I’d boxed myself into a corner, I felt freer. Opportunities sort of magically fell into my lap. Life is weird that way.

So here I am. It’s 2020. My debut novel with Calumet Editions comes out in December. It’s been a long journey to publication. But I wouldn’t wish it any other way.