This is What Happens When I Invite Other Voices into My Head

 3 Responses »
Jun 152011
 

What follows is what you would call a composite in the journalism world, Based On a True Story on the Lifetime Channel, and enough reason for the psychiatrist to up my Prozac dosage seeing as how the conversation didn’t actually happen.

Well, okay, it did. Kind of. But I basically spared y’all the commercials over the past two years and boiled it down for for everyone to be able to follow along. Except for HC_Palmquist, who didn’t realize until she was halfway through reading the first drat that she doesn’t have to be physically present to be this funny.

Me: I finished the book. Now what?

HC Palmquist: You write a query. My sister has a workshop she teaches for that. You should sign up.

Me: I’ll look into it. After I send the Pure and Obvious Genius I have penned out to the top agents on my list and wait for them to all start tripping over each other with contracts in hand. I promise to at least look like I wasn’t expecting it when the day comes.

Four minutes and no responses later…

HC Palmquist: So how’s that Pure and Obvious Genius thing working out for you?

Me: *Honestly confused* I’m not sure. I don’t have any responses yet. And that’s mainly because I’m not counting the ones that said no.

HC Palmquist: Maybe you need to check out CJ’s workshop?

Me: I’ll look into it.

HC Palmquist: Sure you will.

Me: Okay, I won’t. It’s not like I need that kind of help. I mean, I’m not an inexperienced writer or anything. I didn’t start writing yesterday, you know. I even have Published Clips from the newspapers I worked at and freelanced for. Hell, I stepped over puddles of blood at the scene of fatal car accidents to avoid pissing off the fire chief, for crying out loud, and stood This Close to People Eventually Convicted of Murder while covering their trials. I think I can handle a fucking query.

five minutes and six query revisions later…

HC Palmquist: How’s the query writing going?

Me: I think I’d rather present The Husband with an itemized expense report showcasing my extensive “Oh So and So sent me THAT RAMDOM THING I FOUND ON ETSY thing for free hoping I’d mention it on my blog collection and wait for the steam to stop pouring out of his ears.

HC Palmquist: But the experience! The Clips! The pools of blood!

Me: Right…I can do this thing…

Fifteen minutes and nine more revisions later…

Me: I can’t fucking do this. How the HELL am I supposed to convince a perfect stranger who has no idea how utterly AWESOME my book is that my book should be a, you know, BOOK in the BOOK STORES on their SHELVES for PEOPLE to BUY with a one page letter? I SUCK at writing letters. That’s why God invented email.

HC Palmquist: Don’t tell me you haven’t looked up agents that accept e-queries.

Me: *Eyes shimmer with faint hope*

HC Palmquist: But you still have to write it in the same format.

Me: Shit.

Two minutes and forty-five revisions later...

Me: I think I finally have something here.

HC Palmquist: Good. Maybe this time you won’t embarrass yourself completely when an agent finds a query with your name on it in their inbox.

Me: You mean like that time I wrote Muff Top?

HC Palmquist: Yeah. That.

Me: I was really hoping that one would have worked based on the humor factor alone. I mean, really. That would have made a kick-ass How I Got My Agent story for  Chuck Sambuchino.

HC Palmquist: No arguments here. Now, back to the query…and the workshop?

Thirty minutes and fifty more queries circulating in Publishing Land.

Me: This one is SO going to work. I mean, it’s PURE and OBVIOUS GENIUS REVISITED. And Friends A-Z all agree it’s SOOOOOO much better than the first one I sent out (shut up) so that means it’s practically perfect. Now, how long is appropriate to wait before agreeing to a contract? I don’t want to look desperate or anything.

HC Palmquist: At least three seconds. Anything sooner and you just look like a whore.

Me: Thanks for the tip. *Sits back to wait for Happy in the Inbox.*

Six months later and still waiting….

HC Palmquist: So, not that you are interested or anything, but my sister is offering her last query workshop ever next week.

Me: I think I’m signing up.

HC Palmquist: *Falls over dead*

Me: Seriously. I obviously have no fucking clue what I am doing and need serious guidance and CJ obviously knows what she’s doing.

HC Palmquist: *recovering quickly* Ok, I’ll send you the link.

Three days later

Me: Why didn’t you tell me my query SUCKED ASS and I needed this workshop LAST YEAR before I blew that shiny first impression with that crap copy? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOUR SISTER IS A QUERY GENIUS???????

HC Palmquist: *Wondering if I know what Twitter is and how I have never heard of CJ Redwine, the fact that she has an agent, a book deal, and a clue.* Oh? *blinking innocently* Right. My bad.

No Exceptions

 No Responses »
Oct 012010
 

Part of this whole writing business is making it up as you go. There is so much to learn, and like parenting, everyone can tell you what to expect and how to prepare and what reference books to read, but you still have to make your own mistakes and learn what works for you.

That’s where I am sitting now; On the realization that whereas I once believed I had it figured out, I am now aware of the fact that I, in fact, had no fucking clue.

Every writer, I believe, has to have an ego and boatloads of confidence to survive the road from dream to reality. Every writer needs to believe in themselves because there are going to be oh so many times that it seems no one else does. But every writer including this one needs to also realize that the confidence, ego, and belief in their ability has to be balanced with equal amounts of humility, because (and here’s the kicker) if that mindset isn’t already in place, you’re in for one hell of a wake up call when the rejections start pouring in.

I freely admit that I was cocky. That I thought I was going to be The Exception to the rule. That my first draft was so spectacular and my query so eloquent that there was no way in hell I was going to be spending months looking for an agent. Somehow, that insecure self I was in high school had magically morphed into a self-congratulatory jackass that had convinced the rational me of easy roads ahead.

Don’t get me wrong…I still believe in my writing. But, and I think this is a process all of us go through at some point (even if only in our heads) in order for us to really grow as writers. Think of it as maturing from a cocky teenager who thinks he knows it all to the parent who is trying to explain to their own cocky teenager that they really and truly don’t. It’s at that point that you how far you have come as a person.

I’m still cocky. Or cocky enough to be able to brush off the sting of each rejection. But I’m wiser, too and aware that the reality of the publishing process applies to everyone, including me. Agents aren’t going to come flocking to me just because I am me. Book deals are not going to fall down from the heavens and land in my lap just because I am willing them to do so. Platforms do matter. And rewrites are the name of the game.

I am a good writer. I believe that. And I have to keep believing that or I may as well shred my manuscript right now and not even bother to start working on the next project.  One day, I will have my reality. But it won’t be because I was an exception. It won’t be because my horoscope was a lucky one that day. Fortune cookies will not be involved.

It will be because I worked for it. And because I finally figured out that I still have plenty to learn.

New (Query) Truths

 1 Response »
Jul 302010
 

Hit send. Hit send. Hit send.

It’s the twitter mantra of the brave who have made it to the land of The End on their respective projects. There’s plenty of talk of nerves and sweaty palms and hyperventilation and total and absolute fear. I’ve heard it can be paralyzing, that fear. I’ve even seen ongoing twitter conversations in which one writer would be cheered on by a cast of supportive friends until they finally ignored the nerves just long enough to HIT SEND.

And then the twittersphere erupts in silent cheers and exclamation points of happiness.

So I was a little surprised when I realized how easy it actually is to Hit Send. I haven’t had one nerve go haywire or had to wipe a sweaty brow. I’ve just, quite simply, hit send. And it isn’t until the response appears in the inbox that the nerves hit, the palms get sweaty, and the hyperventilating begins because it is at that very moment that I have lost all control over what will come to be.

Hitting Send doesn’t scare me. But I’ll be honest. There are plenty of nerves, two very sweaty palms, and some slight hyperventilating going on as I click the email open to see what’s in store.

Ask Aspiring Mama

 No Responses »
Jul 222010
 

I’m reading an old copy of a fashion magazine and just came across an advice column question in which the writer asks the advice-giver-outer why she can’t score an agent for her book. I mean, she sends them cookies! That she baked! (Why haven’t I tried that yet?)

Um, I’m gonna go out on a limb here with this one.

1) If your just sending cookies, they might confuse you with a harmless stalker who likes to bake.

2) If you are actually including the query, I’m thinking the cookies might actually be a distraction.

“Here’s query #45 of the day and OMG! Chocolate CHIP! Who wants one?”

Which can only lead to glasses of milk to dunk the cookies in and oh nos! That query was just totally made unreadable by that spilled glass so now you have no query in the agent’s hot little hands AND they don’t even know who to send the thank-you note (for the cookies, mind you) to.

3) If your cookies suck, you are so not getting a response.

4) If they don’t, I’m thinking they are better off saved for the agent who actually signs you. Which means the query needs to go out all on its lonesome. Send the cookies after the contract has been signed. You know, so you don’t look like a harmless talker who likes to bake.

5) Unless, that is, you are writing a cookie cookbook. Then, and only then, might your cookie-sending be an acceptable form of hooking said agents.

6) Oh wait…you’re not. Please refer to #4

True Love’s (Query)

 6 Responses »
Jul 202010
 

I might currently possess a stomach full of butterflies at the thought of sending out my queries, but I’ve already been approached by one agent and totally confused by another.

Agent #1: I met at a conference and hit it off. Agent #1 loved my proposal, laughed out loud in all the right places while reading the sample pages submitted, and contacted me shortly thereafter to offer representation. I did the requisite happy dance before Googling Agent #1, coming up with squat, and sending off an email to ask about their track record.

Who had they represented?

What were their recent sales?

Thank you and I look forward to hearing from you.

I waited a week. Then two. Then that turned into a month and now almost three months later, I have yet to hear back from Agent #1. Whatever actually happened, I can only assume Agent #1 was not expecting a newbie at a conference to push the contract aside and ask questions first.

And ya know what? That’s okay with me. If an agent is not prepared to provide a writer with such basic information as I requested, it’s time to move on.

Agent #2: This one was more entertaining. I also met Agent #2 at a conference and interviewed with them. It went kind of like this:

Agent #2: “I’m not getting the title. What’s this Ph in the Baby F(ph)at? Is that like a reference to a medical degree?”

Me: blink blink. “Um, no. It’s a play on words referring to being overweight and the Phat part is slang for cool. You know, you can be a hip mama even if you are hippy?”

Agent #2: “And this slang…is this something your generation says?” (Note that Agent #2 couldn’t have been more than 40. I’m 32)

Me: No. Not necessarily. I know I don’t use it. But I know that my target audience will get it and laugh at the title…in a good way.”

Agent #2: “I’m not sure if I like it. And what about this The Husband and Buttercup thing? Why not just use made up names?”

Me: “I’d prefer to stick with what my audience is familiar with, and that’s what’s in the book right now. But I appreciate the suggestion and will definitely consider changing it.” (Not really.)

Agent #2: “I’m not sure if I like that either. Now, what are these twitter things? These quotes you have?”

Me: “I start each chapter with a quote from a real mom to show the reader that they aren’t in the fight to lose weight on their own, and neither am I. I also incorporate a few of my own tweets here and there to give the reader a picture of how much social media plays a role in my life as a support system and to illustrate certain points (like my Ben & Jerry’s addiction) that would lose their edge otherwise.”

Agent #2: “That might not be a good idea. These could actually date your book. What if twitter isn’t even around when your book gets published?”

Me: Blink blink blink. Stunned silence. Really? Isn’t a memoir, by definition, dated material? And twitter? Gone? Forever? Listen, how about I save us both a lot of time, nod my head and smile, thank you for your suggestions, and not send you a query? Good, that sounds lovely to me, too. “I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll keep that in mind, though. Thank you for your suggestions and it was a pleasure to meet with you.”

And that my friends, is proof that finding an agent is like finding the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. It’s not an exact science. And there’s gonna be a lot of bad first dates. But eventually, you’ll have something worth writing home about.

It’s like my friends and I used to say in high school…

You have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince.

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