The making of The Mine

It is not my best book — not by a long shot — but it is still the one I treasure most. It is the one that took the slings and arrows while I debated whether to continue a sometimes perilous journey as a novel writer. It was the first to stand the test of time.

For those reasons and more, The Mine, which turns ten years old this weekend, will always hold a special place in my heart and my rapidly expanding library. It is an enduring reminder of the risks and rewards that go with being a self-published author.

The book, once the top item on my bucket list, took shape, at least as an idea, in June 2011. I created a rough outline days after seeing The Time Traveler's Wife, a movie based on a novel by Audrey Niffenegger. Though I liked both the film and the book, I was moved most by the concept of time travel to the recent past. I wanted Joel Smith, my carefree protagonist, to meet people he knew as a young boy.

Once I settled on 1941 Seattle as the primary setting, I faced another decision. Should I go big or go small? Should I have Mr. Smith try to stop Pearl Harbor or do something more realistic? In the end, I decided that most people in Joel's situation would focus more on surviving than changing history. They would try to blend in and meet people. They would save killing Tojo or Hitler for another day.

With that out of the way, I went about writing a novel that had a beginning and an end but not much of a middle. I fleshed out a story about a curious college senior who enters an abandoned mine in 2000, exits in 1941, and tries to finds his way in a world of swing dancing, saddle shoes, and a peacetime draft. I introduced a 22-year-old man to his 21-year-old grandmother, her ill-fated fiancé, and their coed friend, a beautiful, engaged orphan with a tragic past and an uncertain future.

Then I made another decision. On the advice of Maureen Driscoll, a novelist friend, I injected some romance into an adventure story. I turned a tale about Joel and Ginny and Tom into a tale about Joel and Grace. In doing so, I opened doors to new readers, added depth to a two-dimensional story, and created a template for future works. I gave Joel Smith another reason to tread carefully as a time traveler.

By November, I had a finished draft but not a finished book. My daughter Amy, then a 17-year-old honors student, pointed out numerous flaws and introduced me to terms like "headhopper," "conflict," and "story arc." I realized my "novel" looked more like the nonfiction newspaper stories I had written for years. I almost gave up.

Then I went back to work. I made some changes, added fifteen chapters, and expanded several others, including Chapter 34, where Joel and Grace evolve from friends to something more. That chapter, set at a minor league baseball game, is still the longest I have ever written.

Over the next several weeks, I revised the manuscript, enlisted others to proof it, and asked a family friend to create a simple cover. On February 12, 2012, I clicked the "Publish" button on Amazon, went out to dinner, and waited for great things to happen.

News flash: They didn't. Like thousands of other indie authors, I quickly learned a brutal truth of publishing. Writing a book is one thing. Selling it in a competitive marketplace is another. For weeks, I could not give the book away, at least to strangers. Sales skidded to a stop.

Desperate for a break, I pitched The Mine to 17 agents and publishers, including several small presses. All rejected my queries. Though most were pleasant and supportive, a few were not. One agent, named Claudia, said she could not generate "sufficient enthusiasm for the project." I realized that publishing is first and foremost a business, a business whose gatekeepers save their enthusiasm for books that can sell at least 10,000 copies. I turned again to my bucket list.

Then something wonderful happened. Comments trickled in. Positive comments. Then positive reviews. Two reviewers, in particular, lifted The Mine out of obscurity. Kathy Altman praised the book in USA TODAY. Marlene Harris did the same in Library Journal. More reviews, three hundred in all, followed in the coming months.

So did more interest and opportunities. In March 2013, Podium Audio contacted me after noticing that many readers who bought Andy Weir's sci-fi thriller The Martian, then a relatively obscure indie work, also bought The Mine. The Canadian company offered me a publishing contract — my only one to date — and produced an audiobook, with an appealing new cover, before the year was out.

Though The Mine did not keep pace with The Martian, which became a New York Times bestseller and a blockbuster film, it did gain steam with many readers. Bloggers and media outlets continued to review and promote the book. Customers pushed it to the top of several Amazon bestseller lists, including historical fiction. They downloaded a novel agents and publishers would not take onto 180,000 Kindles.

I no longer market The Mine like I used to. Nineteen newer books have taken its place and the opportunities to find new readers have dwindled. The novel, which has undergone numerous revisions, is the professor emeritus of my library. Its best days have come and gone.

Still, the book is important to me. It is a reminder of where I started and where I can still go. It's a testament of what I — or anyone — can do through hard work, perseverance, and the willingness to grow.