The Platform Conundrum

4 Responses »
Sep 082010

Dear Future Agent,

I have a secret to share. It may shock you.

Then again, probably not.

See…(and this is kind of embarrassing to admit)…but (deep breath) I. Am. Not. Famous.

I’ll give you a minute to digest that little piece of information. Because really, the Holy Crap factor was probably enough to knock the wind out of you. You know, while you laughed at me. So I understand if you need to compose yourself.

Right now, dear Future Agent, you are probably asking yourself why you should give a damn about me and my Regular Peeples status. Or not. After all, we haven’t been formally introduced yet. Or perhaps we have and I just haven’t quite convinced you yet. So in reality, you are probably busy cycling through your inbox while fending off off over-zealous writers with good intentions and big dreams who may have sent you cookies instead of a properly formatted query letter, wishing it was five o’clock so you can get home and pop the cork on a bottle of wine, skip the glass, and stick a bendy straw in there. You know, after you have served the kids dinner. (I’m going out on a limb here and guessing you will be a mom. And if you are doing that bendy straw thing, we are soooo a match made in heaven.)

But back to the me Not Being Famous and why you should care thing. You see, before I find you I have to be told to keep looking by others. “This is a subjective business…” “Other agents opinions may differ…” “What doesn’t work for me may be perfect for another agent…” Oh wait. It’s been three weeks and two days. Which means I can cross too more off my list. I know my query is solid (maybe). I know my writing has promise (right?). I know I will not be a word-diva when it comes to revisions (which I think is major bonus points, yes?) I could focus on the fact that I just got turned down again or I can remind myself that these two passive rejections are playing their karmic roles in getting me closer to the day I find you. But instead, I think I’ll focus on the fact that my (solid) query is missing something. That my (promising) writing isn’t even going to come into play for many of the agents who shall come before you because of that pesky little platform thing. And seeing as I don’t really have one to stand on, why ask for more if I don’t have enough to get me past Go to collect my Monopoly money?

You already know, dear Future Agent, that Non-fiction and Strong Platforms go hand in hand. That there is plenty of rhyme and reason for the current system. I get it, too. But I have to admit that the whole situation kind of has me in a pickle similar to the Gotta Have Credit to Get Credit situation I found myself in when I was young and stupid enough to jump on the first credit card offer that got me a free T-shirt on my college campus; I’m not famous enough to garner the attention of many agents looking for famous enough people to garner the attention of publishers looking for people famous enough to sell books. So they have (and will continue to) take a pass on me. No matter what they may think of my writing or my claims that my old job, this blog, and my twitter addiction could be considered a platform.

And that’s okay. It sucks. But it’s okay.

Because one day, you will take a chance on me. And I’ll do that little happy dance every writer does when their own future finally slows down enough for them to grab hold. And then I can dream bigger and work harder (while trying to remedy that Not Being Famous thing while taking breaks from that working and writing thing, of course.) Until then, I’ll continue to nurse my bruised ego, marvel at the fact that the girl who was so unsure of herself has grown into the woman who is sure enough to continue this soul-crushing exercise as long as it takes, and wait.

I may not be famous (enough) yet, but I’m stubborn as hell. Which means I’m not going to let my cute little platform (or lack thereof) get in my way.

Sincerely,

Me

What I Could've Done

2 Responses »
Jul 252010

I wrote a book.

The magnitude of this statement is still not something my mind has wrapped itself around. Maybe it’s because it’s still too foreign of a concept.

I start a lot of things.

I rarely follow through. (Except for the pushing the baby out thing, because by that point, I really kinda didn’t have a choice.) So when I say I wrote a book, I am also saying I could have not, just was easily.

I could have let my Muse run the show, claiming diva-hood and migraines. I could have decided that why yes, I much rather would have watched Castle, Fringe, Bones, Burn Notice, Ghost Hunters, and every other show that I have ignored for the past year while writing during the only time I actually have to myself. I could have slept because really, who needs more than four hours a night? For a year. With a toddler for an alarm clock. a lot more than I have been. I could have not been as pressed for time during the day to get my housework done because it wouldn’t matter if I needed to play catch up on the laundry after Buttercup got into her little toddler bed. I could  have read more for pleasure or enjoyed a movie night or two with the zillions of never seen DVD’s I have sitting on my entertainment center. I could have concentrated too hard on the publishing stats and my chanced and just given up. I could have…I could have…I could have…

But I didn’t.

I wrote a book.

And now?

I’m going to work my ass off to get it published.

On losing things...

6 Responses »
Jul 062010

I lose my keys on a regular basis only to find them at the bottom of my purse.

I had Lasik a few years ago, but was known to lose my glasses…while on my face.

My blackberry gets lost in my bra on a regular basis. Don’t ask. Because if you do, I’ll be forced to dedicate a blog post to the very subject.

I’ve even lost the parked mini-van in the mall parking lot once and was wandering the lot long enough for mall security to take pity, offer me a ride, and drive me to the opposite end of the mall where it became apparent I had exited the building on the wrong side.

The Husband had a brain-glitch a few months back and told me to go buy myself that pair of Oakley sunglasses I had been drooling over and by drooling, i mean I knew I was never going to have them because I used to lose $5 gas station sunglasses every time the sun set so I grabbed they keys when I found them and ran out to the mini-van I knew where it was this time and drove to the mall Dont worry, I have a file in my blackberry for where I park now before he regained his senses. I’ve lost these bad boys a few times and have had panic attacks until they turned up again in the diaper bag, the mini-van glove box, or, not surprisingly, on the bridge of my nose.

The point is that I lose things. Without effort.

This brings me to two questions.

#1 Why haven’t I lost the baby weight yet? Buttercup’s blown out the candles on her third birthday cake. Self-imposed deadlines have come and gone. And I’m still trying to earn my MILF card. And the kicker is that I’ve been trying…like, for realz.

#2 Who was the jack-hole who decided to coin the term “weight loss?” When an individual needs to or desires to see a lower number on the scale for whatever reason, why is it that they have to “lose the weight?”

Losing things is easy.

Losing weight? Dropping the baby f(ph)at? Not so much.

Now…where the hell did my last nerve go?

A pathetic attempt to save my own life (on craigslist)

1 Response »
Mar 202010

Remember this post?

Well, Skechers didn’t come knocking at my door, so it wasn’t hard for The Husband to convince me to try on a different style. Just for fun. Which I bought. Then never looked back.

So that left me with a pair of shoes I’m not wearing anymore after barely being broken in! What to do?

Post to craigslist, of course.

Wanna see?

***

IMG00625-20100317-1337

I have for sale a pair of pink and grey skechers shape-ups, size 9, worn 4 times. If I hadn’t already thrown away the box, I’d be at the shoe store after cleaning off the bottom of the shoe and hoping I could slip it by them as a return. But I don’t. So here I am.
So why am I selling them? And why should you by them? Let’s do bullets for simplicity.


Why you should buy?
*They might not be the most attractive (which is really putting it nicely), but they are *really* comfortable.
*Perfect for walking, perfect for all day on your feet (my sister wears hers to work as a cashier)
*As ugly goes, they kinda fit the “so ugly they’re cute” category
*Mine are cheaper than the store prices and really, you know more than 4 pairs of feet have been in the shoes you could buy brand new at the store, right?

avia

Why I am selling:
*I was in love with the Skechers for the whole four hour-long walks I took in them. I swear.
*I was making progress and starting to get over my being superficial preoccupation regarding their lack of aesthetic appeal. (Really, I was. Sort of.)
*Then The Husband had me try on a pair of Avia Avi-Motion when we went shopping. (So this ad is totally his fault.)
*The Avia’s were just just supposed to be my “every-day” shoe and the Skechers my “walks with the jogging stroller” shoes.
*That didn’t happen.

Bottom line?

My feet just like the Avia’s better. So if you wanna do me a favor and help me not get killed by The Husband for wasting over $100 on a pair of shoes I barely wore (that I begged and begged for, mind you) you’ll buy the shoes from me instead of going to the store. Where you’ll pay more money. And this all makes perfect sense to me.

***

I'll take that 2nd serving now

3 Responses »
Mar 182010

I’ve got a knot in my neck the size of a grapefruit (yes, still) and while I wait for the Flexeril to kick in I thought I’d share how it got there.

See, a few weeks ago I got the bright idea to get an entry ready for the memoir portion of the annual Writer’s Digest Contest. It all started with an innocent comment from my writing buddy, Juliette.

“I love Chapter 13!”

Yep! That’s what she said. So I ran with it.

And that’s when I thought, “Well, hell…let’s give it a shot.”

It was supposed to be easy. My plan was to edit the chapter down to the required max of 2,000 words, and bounce it back to Juliette for a final once over. Because she’s cool frijoles like that. And I, of course, (who can spot a diamond in the dark) can’t see a typo of my own until it trips me.

That’s when I found the word “desert” in my essay. (It was supposed to be “dessert.” See? Now do you get the title for this post? Clever? Huh? Yeeeeeeah.) Not alarmed, I tweaked, edited, and sent it back to Juliette begging her to help me whittle 2,267 words into a polished 2k.

And because she’s busier than hell with a real job and other priorities, I patiently waited while she attacked her to-do list and emailed me back with suggestions, cuts, and messages about how tired she was.

That’s when I realized “sugar free” needs a hyphen. And that the sentence with the words, “my parent’s house” had the apostrophe in, like, totally the wrong spot? That wouldn’t go over so well with a judge, me thinks.

So I made a few changes and sent it back. Then she did the same.

And we have continued to do so for the better part of the last few weeks because Karma (and my Muse) wanted to make it perfectly clear that editing is an ongoing process and well, that I’m not prefect. (Yeah, yeah..I did that one on purpose.)

Right.

We found a dropped word. An unnecessary “a”. An uncapped “Mom.” And our last collective nerve.

Seriously, people, this is why I was a reported in my former life and didn’t work as a copy editor. I suck at editing copy. Ask Juliette. She’ll tell you. Hell, read my tweets. Or my blog. Or that cover letter for the PR job I was trying to snag right outta college where I proudly proclaimed my “extensive experience in pubic relations.”

True story.

Oh, and I didn’t get that job. (Yeah, I know. I was surprised, too.)

Finally, after @beltonwriter agreed to graciously read what we are sincerely hoping is the “real” final, final, final draft, we’re pretty confident that the submission is almost to the point of not sucking enough to actually submit. Because seriously, it’s no secret that perfectly good writing can get lost in a sea of third-graders learning how to remember the difference between “desert” and “dessert.”

Now does everyone understand why I insisted on starting this whole process months before the deadline?

Older Entries
Copyright 2010 Aspiring Mama Suffusion WordPress theme by Sayontan Sinha