Back when I had the energy and resources to update AMJ every day, I was constantly flipping through a very old copy of Party Out of Bounds, trying to construct memories of things I’ve never known, trying to put across the same feeling the book conveys: place, time, youth.
I was working three jobs and came home exhausted and cranky. I had three roommates, each of whom had a girlfriend, each in a band that practiced twice a week. It was chaos. Not the romantic kind. I was still young enough to be cool in this town (I say on the cusp of 30) and fancied myself the upstart kid. I blogged and tweeted and got a nice little following.
A co-worker of mine had a going away party in Normaltown. I, already starting to retreat from the world, actually went out for once. There, I met the director of the UGA Press. A mutual friend introduced us. She mentioned I “was AthensMusicJunkie.” Turns out the director had been following my work for a while.
The director offered me a look around the Press office one day. I took her up on it, bringing with me one of my seven copies of Party Out of Bounds. I left it for her, suggesting they reissue it at some point.
That was nearly four years ago. In that time, I left my jobs and found a new one. Then I left that one too for where I’m at as of today: working for the University of Georgia Press.
Most of the places I used to write for are gone. Music blogs in general are gone. Music magazines are WAY GONE. We all burnt out. Even before that, technology changed so quickly that my little slapdash operation couldn’t keep up. I had a Nokia and a Flip Video camcorder. The new kids came in with iPhones. I’ve also been battling depression while trying to make something resembling a life happen. But I did good work in the past. I want to do that again. One day at a time.
So just know, I’m trying. Getting Party Out of Bounds out again is huge to me, but this isn’t a sales pitch. It’s a book that I read that I liked and worked on. But it was a small thing that looped its way back into my life in a very convoluted manner, much like AMJ weaves itself through my own story like a song straining to be heard over the noise in the foreground.
I hope I make it back here soon.