For a couple years now I’ve been working on a novel about train hoppers. It’s been a constant project in the sense that it’s the only thing I’m working on, but it’s only been worked on in fits and starts. I have a few chapters. I can say they’re fairly strong based on the reactions of others. Anyone in the publishing world I’ve shown them to has wanted more; I’ve yet to have this project rejected by anyone. You’d think that’d put my ass on a fast-track to finish the thing, but that’s not what’s happened.
Beyond the impostor syndrome associated with creative writing in general, there is also the fact that I am indeed an impostor to the lifestyle of freight hopping. When the idea for this book came to me, I hadn’t hopped a train. Where I live, a number of trains do go by, sometimes so slowly that I’ve had to cross over them to get to the other side of the tracks (say, if I needed to get to work or catch a movie, whatever). So I’ve physically boarded a moving train which, based on the number of people on either side of those trains who would rather wait for twenty more minutes, is something. I do not dilute myself into thinking it’s much, though. The experience of actually hopping on a train to take a ride eluded me until a couple summers ago— and I have still yet to ride for more than a couple minutes at a time — so I am far from an expert in the subject I wish to write…
