Delusions of Immortality

I don't delude myself often. I actually call myself a Realist, Sunny-Side-Up. What does that mean, precisely? I don't quite know, but it sounds better than a happy pessimist, so I'm going with it.

Anyway, back to delusions: I have this YA novel that I've set aside for about two years. I decided last week that I'd make all those final revisions over Christmas break and get it "ready" for sending out. It's time. My current WIP can wait, and indeed it has been, most patiently.

The problem? It's taking much longer than I thought possible. Twenty-four pages in three days. That's not going to break any records or even allow me to finish before the end of break. Here's the scary part: this time-heavy revision isn't because the writing sucks or the plot's shaky. (Well, I suppose that's for future readers to determine, but I do tend to be rather hard on myself, so I think I'd recognize that if it were the case.) I'm enjoying the process immensely, in fact, and but it seems that I'm spending far too much time staring into space and thinking. Drat that thinking, anyway!

The epiphany: As I contemplate word choice and scene tweaks, it suddenly occurred to me that 'real authors' -- you know, the ones who have published a bajillion books...or even just one -- are really no different than you or I. (Where's the connection between those two activities? I don't rightly know, but that's the randomness of my thoughts these days.)

From childhood, I've looked up to those who write as the demi-gods and goddesses who walk the Earth. They are other-worldly, deigning to spend time here because it amuses them to do so. My aspirations to write were always with the understanding that I was an outsider, didn't possess the right blood, and certainly didn't have the correct scholarly brow. I was ok with that. I knew I was an impostor, but the act of writing fulfilled me in a way nothing else had. I only wanted to craft stories; I didn't want to belong to any elite crew of immortals.

Spending time on the blogs of literary agents, editors, editor assistants, and yes, even authors, has given an insider's look that until now has always been pretty nigh unto impossible. It was a little earth-shaking to realize that, wow, we're all human. No immortals walk among us.

So, right now, I'm staring out the bay window into a winter wonderland. (No wonder it's hard to concentrate on revisions.) And I'm thinking: I'm thankful for all my blogging buddies who have committed to the long open road of writing, the one with pot holes and rain and dead ends, the one with brilliant bursts of sunlight and shimmering rainbows and entertaining detours. Here's to the determination, the loneliness, the camaraderie, the tenacity. Here's to you.

Doing Your Homework: Beyond the Obvious

I treasure epiphanies. They occur so rarely in adult life that one must cup the moment in trembling hand, cherish the feather-light strokes of wings, the fragile dust of magic, even the transitory nature of the creature.


This, however, was more like the smack in the middle of the forehead, roll of the eyes, and jaded, "DUH!" blurted out to all who would listen.

1. Do your homework. Yes, I know this. I'm actually holding the 2008 Guide to Literary Agents by Writer's Digest Books. Flipping to the back, under Literary Agents Specialties Index, I can even browse agents by topic, specifically Fantasy and Science Fiction. There are lots of other agent resources, but, then, you knew that.

2. Double check your sources. Just because someone is listed in the Guide, it's not carved in granite. If a website is provided, jump online and verify that the agent is still with the company listed. And yes, I've lived through this, having just received an email last week that stated, "Mollie X is no longer with Agency Y. Your email is being forwarded to Jenny Z at jennyz@agencyy.com. Boy, did I feel lame.

3. Don't just randomly query, even within your genre. Now some may disagree with me and recommend that you query anyone with a pulse, but I have discovered that some discretion may simply save time. Take me for an example. To my ever-living shame, I actually queried an agent who specifically stated on her website that she was looking for something other than high fantasy. Yes, she was looking for fantasy, just not what I was peddling. It was a bloody waste of both of our times, and I should have known better. (I'm still wondering if I'm a masochist.)

4. Improve your chances. This was the part I failed to figure out until just the other day. I don't know if I was being stupid or lazy, but here's the deal: create a list of the living authors who write in a similar fashion. Do a Google search for their agents. Then query their agents. So I've googled Kristin Britain and she has Anna Ghosh of Scovil Galen Ghosh Literary Agency listed as the contact for "licensing and rights inquiries." I am currently cooking up a query for Ms. Ghosh, though in checking a list of of her recent sells, I see that this is the only fantasy listed. Hmmmm....Decision to be made.

5. Phone a friend. When in doubt, seek out your beta readers, your spouse, or your mom's friends and ask: if you had to put me in a category, who would the other authors be? Use their ideas to track down the most appropriate agent for your work. Who knows? You might find an answer that you wouldn't have targeted on your own.

Any other tips or thoughts or random bits of genius for all of us agent-seekers? It's a simplistic process but oh so painful...and easier to endure when there are friendly fellow bloggers participating in the same trial by fire. What's your story of failure? joy? humiliation? success?

Five Lines to Live By: Wisdom from my Father

[Note: this is not a posting on theme]

As writers we have a special privilege (& responsibility) to provide depth and clarity through our work. This doesn't mean being preachy or even being weighty; it simply means having larger meaning. Writing that is all candy doesn't stick with you -- it'll even make you a little nauseous, wish you hadn't gobbled quite so much. Weaving in bits of wisdom, golden nuggets of common sense, or slices of epiphanies means writing with substance. A little goes a long ways, but it's the bit that will stick with your reader long after the catchy plot fades.

My father is my hero, which means I tend to listen to his advice or at least take it into consideration. Here are five lines I've heard him say countless times over the years:

1. Don't be selfish.

2. Think before you act.

3. Life is a series of stepping stones.

4. Motherhood is mankind's highest calling.

5. In the end, all that matters is who you love and who loves you.

There are exceedingly long stories, sermons, and sandwiches wrapped up in all of these, but who cares what they mean to me. What do they mean to you? What are the proverbs, words of wisdom, or reality checks that your role models have handed down to you? Add your two cents worth via comments, and maybe we'll end up with a compendium of wisdom that outlasts us all.