Tag: what is the can't monster

Mountains, Monsters, and Metaphors

by Chris, posted in The Story Behind the Story

The Can’t Monster is a story about a boy who attempts to climb a mountain, fails, comes to terms with his failure, and tries again. Along the way, he encounters a monster that [SPOILER ALERT] turns out to be imaginary. The mountain and the monster are both plot devices with a symbolic meaning worth exploring.

During the considerable lulls in the publication process, I found myself pondering the significance of the symbols I employed in my story. I wondered if anyone else would pick up on them, or if they’d just take the story at face value. After all, The Can’t Monster is fundamentally a children’s book, not a contender for the title “Great American Novel.” Also, when it comes to the use of symbols, I’m not exactly Herman Melville (although, unlike Moby Dick, my book can be read in a matter of minutes, not over the course of several fortnights). Still, it’s worth discussing what the mountain and the monster in The Can’t Monster represent.

Here’s my take: the mountain is the thing to be achieved and the monster is the thing that stands in the way of achieving it. In the story, the mountain is a mountain. In life, a mountain can be a major life goal (a college degree, for example) or a lesser pursuit (a hobby, an adventure, a significant purchase, a project, etc.).

As a teenager, two friends and I ascended to the top of nearby Pilot Mountain from its base (as high as legally allowed, that is). It felt like quite the feat at the time. Today, that quest seems like a fairly leisurely hike. It’s not that I’ve climbed steeper or taller mountains since, because I haven’t. I’ve just accomplished things that are a lot more meaningful to me. Along the way, I’ve encountered many monsters.

In 1990, Pilot Mountain, a famous landmark in northwestern North Carolina, was the “thing to be achieved” for me and two of my buddies.

Most recently, the process of publishing a children’s book represented a mountain. I wouldn’t exactly consider it my own personal Mount Everest, since my livelihood doesn’t depend on its success, and my investment of time was relatively modest (compared to most book projects), but this doesn’t mean that I didn’t run into a few monsters along the way.

The first of these was the submissions process. Not all book publishers take unsolicited submissions. Those that do tend to respond only when they’re interested enough in the project to offer a book deal. Would-be authors typically don’t get rejection notices…they just wait, wait, and then wait some more before giving up. I went through this with The Can’t Monster and am currently going through it again with a follow-on project. The late Tom Petty spoke for all authors and prospective authors when he said that the waiting is the hardest part.

Once I found a publisher, new monsters appeared. One of these was the process of trying to determine what the monster in the story should look like, given that it didn’t really exist. Limited to communicating with the illustrator through an intermediary at the publisher, I quickly grew frustrated. We went through four of five iterations of the monster before arriving at something I could live with. Getting some of the other illustrations right presented lesser, but still noteworthy, challenges. Eventually, I made peace with the idea that, for the book to ever see the light of day, I had to make some compromises. The great, it turned out, was once again the enemy of the good enough.

This early rendering of the monster didn’t exactly fit my vision, nor did the next several versions.

The monsters mentioned above were not enough to deter me from reaching the top of this one metaphorical mountain (i.e., publication). Had I allowed these obstacles (among others) to deter me, then The Can’t Monster would have won. If so, my unpublished story would hold a uniquely ironic significance for me, and for me alone. Fortunately, in this case, I successfully stared down the monster.

As Will discovers in The Can’t Monster, most of the monsters I’ve encountered throughout my life have been in my head. I’d like to be able to report that I’ve prevailed in each of these confrontations. The truth is that my track record remains quite mixed.

I suspect that yours might be, as well. That’s how life tends to be: to avoid the monsters, we end up avoiding the mountains. The Can’t Monster prefers it that way. Don’t let it win.

Buy your copy of The Can’t Monster today via Amazon or Barnes & Noble. FYI: the paperback measures 6.5″ square, whereas the hardcover edition is 8″ square.

Publication Day!

by Chris, posted in Uncategorized

Today is the day! Fifteen months after signing a publishing contract, more than two years since I first put pen to paper, and almost seven years after the moment of inspiration, The Can’t Monster is now officially on the market.

This occasion represents a victory over a personal “can’t monster” of mine, which has been seeing a book project through to completion. It was a long and at times tedious process, even though the book itself is quite short.

A heartfelt thanks goes out to everyone who helped make this happen, from the folks at Olympia Publishers and Bumblebee Books, the freelance editors and authors I contacted via reedsy.com, the friends who provided thoughtful input and advice and, of course, my loving wife, for her continuous support and encouragement.

Here are some ways to buy your copy:

Olympia Publishers (Paperback or Hardcover) Note: This appears to be the slowest option.

Amazon (Paperback or Kindle)

Barnes & Noble (Paperback or Hardcover)

Enjoy!

Chris

Will, I Am

by Chris, posted in The Story Behind the Story

Will, the protagonist of The Can’t Monster, is based on me…sort of. Allow me to explain:

The Can’t Monster isn’t a true story, and yet it’s a story that is very real to me. My various attempts to climb mountains, more figurative than literal, have tested my courage, my perseverance, and my resilience. Along the way, I’ve succumbed to fear, frustration, and a sense of powerlessness (futility, for the sake of alliteration) more times than I’d like to admit.

Fear — the fear of failure, in particular — has kept me from trying things that could have been rewarding. Frustration, a near-constant companion, has convinced me to give up on ventures great and small. The recurring thought that I’m too small, too weak, and/or too unimportant to affect meaningful change has prevented me from reaching my potential.

All of these are common, and sometimes justifiable, feelings. However, a resilient person can deal with them and keep them in perspective. When the Can’t Monster is calling the shots, perspective is lost. Even minor obstacles begin to seem insurmountable. Hope wanes, and self-confidence falters.

“If things are bad and can’t get better, then why keep going?”

“Why try, if you’re destined to fail?”

“Why fight, if you know you can’t win?”

I’ve heard this voice too many times. The Can’t Monster wins when “fight or flight” is reduced to just flight. Giving up is not just the best option, the monster says, but the only viable one.

At a critical juncture in The Can’t Monster, Will listens to this voice. Soaked by the rain, fatigued by the climb, and pricked by briars, he decides to turn back. Most of us would, too, if in his shoes.

But when he gets home, he doesn’t want to own up to his own failure. Instead, he relates a fantastical tale of a menacing monster who compelled him to give up his quest. Admitting that we’ve been overcome by adversity, or that we just fell short of the mark, is tough.

This makes Will relatable. It really doesn’t matter if Will truly believed he saw a monster, or whether he just made it up. The important thing is that he blamed the monster for his decision to turn back.

The Can’t Monster provides a convenient excuse for our failure, or for not even trying something in the first place. It takes more than a little maturity to acknowledge that the Can’t Monster is in your head — and mine.

I don’t judge Will for giving up. Rare is the person who has never been overwhelmed by circumstances or deterred by obstacles. For most of us, quitting is a part of life. It just shouldn’t be allowed to define our lives.

Where we can all be inspired by Will is that he didn’t sit in his room and cry. He reflected on what had happened that day. By doing so, he realized that he’d lost his nerve…his will. I’ve been there.

Then, with help from his father, he did something about it. That’s the difficult part, and it’s one of the reasons I was determined to see this project through. We can all benefit from the reminder that the Can’t Monster only wins if it undermines our willingness to try –.and then to try again, and again, and again, if necessary.

Chris

Buy your copy today via Amazon or Barnes & Noble. FYI: the paperback measures 6.5″ square, whereas the hardcover edition is 8″ square.

Why “The Can’t Monster?”

by Chris, posted in The Story Behind the Story

The Can’t Monster resulted from numerous streams of inspiration stretching across many years. The title of the book, however, was the product of a single moment in May 2016.

I spent several weeks in the spring of 2016 developing a proposal that I believed would improve the efficiency and productivity of my office. I bounced the ideas off a coworker and then shared it with my immediate supervisor, finding him quite receptive. He arranged a meeting to discuss the proposal with our entire team. The day of the meeting had arrived, and I expected the worse.

The night before, I’d mentioned to my fiancée (now wife) that I was dreading the meeting. I’d only been a part of the team for a year and a half, but that was long enough to get a feel for my coworkers and the overall power dynamic within the office. This knowledge led me to expect resistance to my proposal from one, if not more, of my colleagues.

Much to my surprise, the meeting started off quite well. All but one of my teammates were present, and all in attendance seemed amenable to my ideas. Our discussion was both amicable and productive. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather.

About forty-five minutes into the meeting, the one absent member of the team arrived. He stood in the back of the room and peered across the conference table at the large digital display on the far wall. Then he spoke. Within seconds, he’d confirmed why I’d been dreading the meeting since the moment it was scheduled.

Lacking any context for understanding what he was looking at, having missed the preceding forty-five-minute discussion, he emphatically pronounced the plan unworkable. The next ten minutes or so were a blur. The team leader, an Army officer, and a few others mounted a full-throated defense of my handiwork. I was not one of them. I knew that nothing good could come from it. I just wanted to hide under the table.

Once the meeting was over, I returned to my desk. I found an email from my fiancée inquiring about my day and, specifically, how the meeting had gone. I explained that the discussion had been unexpectedly positive, right up to the point that the latecomer arrived. After that, everything went downhill (and fast). I concluded with something very close to the following, “I really like [this coworker], but he’s the Can’t Monster.”

Her reply: “There’s your million-dollar idea.”

We’ll see about that, but she was right that I had a promising book title, and perhaps the beginnings of a book concept. After a few false starts, I finally started making headway almost five years later, in February 2021. Two long years later (and anyone who has ever published a book knows how slow the process can feel), and nearly seven years since the moment of inspiration, I’m proud to announce that The Can’t Monster is now for sale (preorder, that is).

Buy your copy today via Amazon or Barnes & Noble. FYI: the paperback measures 6.5″ square, whereas the hardcover edition is 8″ square.