My “first novel” was called INVASION OF THE MUTANOIDS. Yeah, you read that right. I started scribbling it out in an unlined art book in the winter of 1988.  I had just turned nineteen.  I eventually “published” the book myself in the winter of 1998, after being turned down by every imprint I submitted the damn thing to.  In the ten year gap, in addition to being a writer, my job description included: dishwasher, prep cook, adult book store manager, cameraman for a religious talk show, film director, musician, producer of audiobooks . . . oh, and for an entire year, I paid the rent by selling my body to science.  (This was, incidentally, how Robert Rodriguez footed the bill for his first feature film El Mariachi—and when I say that, I mean that this was exactly the way he did it.  See, the medical research lab I volunteered at was the very same place Robert did his time in my hometown of Austin, Texas;  Inspiring, no?) During this ten years, I banged away on the novel, never quite sure if it was done, moving forward in fit and starts, like many young writers do when they are first getting…