Love The One You're With

And there's a rose
 in the fisted glove,
And the eagle flies
 with the dove,
and if you can't be
 with the one you love,

Love the one you're with.

Love the one you're with.

(Du-doot, doot, doot,

 doot, doot, du-doot!)

I like the song.  I always thought the sentiment was a little vague, though.  Personally, I tend to think that way; polyamory makes sense to me. The problem is that so many men use it to excuse cheating. I don't condone that; if your spouse grants you leave and license to do as you please, then well and good, all is right in the world, but most don't think that way. What she doesn't know won't hurt me is criminal thinking, and you deserve to lose the house and have to pay alimony.  You asked for it.

Fortunately, books are more forgiving, at least for me.  Some people don't work that way, I understand, but personally, I like a harem.  My wife doesn't mind that, as long as it's books, so we have an accord.

That's also why "her" book is done, while all of mine are still in various stages of development.  Her pen is more of a serial monogamist, with the exception of an occasional flirtation with a short story, where mine is a total slut. I currently have more than a half dozen titles in process (one of which is always whatever she's working on), all with scores of thousands of words and significant research and planning for plot, character, setting, etc. Sounds like I'm just a love 'em and leave 'em type? No agent would want to pick up someone so flightly, who never finishes what he starts.

It isn't so. I love them all, and hope to get every one on a shelf. The few that were just flirtations are still only notes in my phone, but I have hopes; they're like names in my little black book that I occasionally linger over and consider calling, but no, I have too many in the harem already, and can't give them all the love and attention and devotion they deserve.  Yes, I will freely admit that they all suffer from slower growth because they don't get dedicated attention.

But very soon I'll get synopses and wordcounts in the sidebar for a few of them.  They're all my ugly babies, and I love them, every one.  I believe in them, have faith they can grow up to be proud books with Michael Whelan covers, even.

Ok, to be realistic, I do tend to focus on one at a time for a while. My day job interrupts, but then that's why we're hoping to sell a few books.  This is a career change.  My goal is to retire from life in cubeville and write full time, if we can just get the first few out the door. Accordingly, we prioritize, and focus primarily on whatever is most promising, but then NaNoWriMo comes around and I crank out the frame for another one. Then we go back to our best bet and polish some more.  

But I still sneak away for a few thousand words of tryst with one of the others pretty often, and when we get stuck on one, when writer's block or stubborn characters or sudden realizations of gaping plot holes with no obvious fix bring one work to a grinding halt, we can always shift for a while. We maintain productivity and get our time off from the offending work to let the subconscious chew the contentious bone for a while, both at the same time. So far, it's kept us busy, and we should have a flood of books becoming available for release in the next few short years.

Because, you see, when we can't be with the one we love, we love the one we're with. =o)

Twilight Fireflies

I walked out into the yard this evening with my family and watched the shadows darken beneath the trees as my twenty-one month old son danced in grass still wet from the afternoon rain.  Our eleven year old daughter ran through the yard in a cat mask, a string for a tail, catching fireflies and letting them go.  I watched the little black dots vanish into the darker shades behind, then blink like shooting stars for our amusement. The geese grumbled by the henhouse, and the goats stood watching us watch the show, stiocally chewing their afternoon forage.

In moments like that, a writer finds all he or she needs to build a world.

HUSH began on just such a walk through the yard in mid-2008.  My son was still a discussion, but the honeysuckle was in glorious bloom, and the sun and the breeze and our daughter playing were enough to inspire my wife.  She imagined a simple vignette, a dusty, well armed cowgirl-soldier sitting her horse to watch over the children at play.  A Catcher in the Rye, quiet and tired but ready to do battle for the welfare of her charges.  Everything else grew out of that moment.

Even if it never makes a dime, an eventuality I find hard to believe, though it's always possible - even then, it will have been worth it. I am a better person for having read the tale that she started, that we finished and polished together. May my own ideas bear that sort of fruit.

Because It Was There

"So what's up with  this blogging thing, anyway? What's the point?"

Ok, so it isn't exactly climbing a mountain, but why do we blog? Let's face it, at this point we're mostly talking to ourselves.  I know a few other people are reading, but we only have one registered follower (thanks, Ben. :)  So what's it all for?

No, we're not just stroking our egos.  The reason it looks that way is because we're liberally applying salve.  The truth is less glamorous; one of the main reasons we bother is to whip our confidence into performing shape. We're giving ourselves pep talks in open letters to the public.  We just hope that the contents might someday also be of value to other writers.

We do sincerely apologize to those of our friends who find the subject matter less than stimulating.  I know that not everyone wants to be a writer or cares about our attempts.  We try to make entries sufficiently entertaining, but the point of the website is really moral support for those trying to break into the market, such as ourselves.

Yes, we try to offer valuable advice, useful links, and consistent encouragement, but all these things are really not the only reasons. There are more mercenary thoughts behind this.

It's a public exposure.  On the right, I have arranged a query-ish blurb about the book currently being shopped.  If some agent happens to see me posting on Twitter and follows my link here, maybe they'll read the pitch and ask for pages.  Hey, it could happen.  There's no law that says they can't actively seek out a good story when the breadcrumbs lead to where it was carefully placed on the sidewalk for them to find. As we manage to get the pitch text for other books we're working on in the margin, the effect should improve. No, we're not betting little Jonny's college fund on it, but optimism has its place.

Likewise, there is always the possibility that some honest citizen who peeked at a page once and thought it was cute might remember that when a book hits the shelf, and say "hey, I like their writing.  Lemme see that..."  If he picks it up and talks himself into a sale, then it's working.  Do I think this blog will drive thousands of sales my way anytime soon? Well, no, and not only because we aren't published yet, but it's one more straw on the proverbial camel's back.  Nothing sells a book like word of mouth, but a link one can share sometimes makes that effort a little easier.

But in the final analysis, I blog because it's fun.  I love to write.  I love to put together witty phrases, and navigate logical reefs to an obscure point, and think about how the meter and rythm and content of a sentence might affect a reader toward the emotional end that I wanted.  I don't usually try to make people reading the blog cry (yet...), but a chuckle is as good as money.

We're not taking our eyes off the summit.  We plan to plant that flag; but for now, the climbing is good practice.  See you at the top.

Doing your homework

Before we started sending out queries, we did a good bit of research.

We looked up templates that stated a clear formula. There's a good example of the sort of examples you find at http://www.charlottedillon.com/query.html:

Date

Editor or Agent's Name
Publisher or Agent's Address

Dear Ms. Name, 

To start off, give the name and length and type of manuscript you are sending...

Standard fare. Ok, we started building a template.

Once we had a general description of the book that fit the formula, we started scanning sites that gave more in-depth examples, preferably lots of them. For example, my personal favorite, Janet Reid's Query Shark. Wow, what a goldmine...

But then, we realized how utterly inappropriate our query was, precisely because we were doing what so many other sites had said to do. How could that be? I mean, these were examples from experts, in writing, on the WEB for goodness' sake...

And the Peanut Gallery says "Ah."

Even I, the monumentally dense classic example of the charming nerd, eventually came to realize that this is not computer science.  There is no query-reading machine spitting out punch-cards stating YES WE WILL TAKE THIS BOOK (beeeeep), or NO THIS ONE IS STUPID (buzzzzz).  The people to whom we were sending queries were people, human beings with lives and moods and prejudices, who drink coffee and miss breakfast and have arguments with spouses or bosses or idiots on the freeway.

Oh, my.  How could we ever write a query that would work in this chaotic morass of humanity?

Well, the simple answer is, you get incredibly lucky, and just happen to send the query to the person who likes them the way you've done it and likes the idea, the voice, and the prospects of the sale.  Personally, I think you'd have better odds to just drop two years of your life on Black 13 at a roulette table.

Skip the simple answer. That's not the way real life works.  Stop trying for an easy solution.  You've spent months and months of effort developing characters, plot, setting, tension, rising action and reader rapport, researching details and honing dialogue...now you're going to balk at having to do a little more homework?

Yes, more homework.  If you're planning to send your query to Janet Reid, then for God's sake read the Query Shark blog - ALL of it - and customize your query to something that truly represents your work in the way most likely to garner her interest. Even if you aren't going to send it to her, read her blog anyway, but understand not every agent thinks the same way.  Others will dismiss your query for not doing something that she will possibly reject you for including, but you should still look at everything she has to say, because a lot of it is just good sense, and even where her tastes differ, reading it will help you find your own voice for the query itself.

If sending to an agency that always wants genre and wordcount up front, rewrite the query for them.  Put the genre and wordcount up front. Try to find out what that agent wants.  Sarah LaPolla (Big Glass Cases) says she hates prologues; if you're sending pages, consider renaming it to chapter one, or dropping it altogether for her. (Though if the book stands without it, should it really have been there anyway?)

Sending queries is stressfull. My wife and I both laugh about the send-button blues, where we sit with the mouse pointer hovering near SEND but don't click yet, giving ourselves just a few more minutes to think of that mysterious something we have inevitably forgotten.

Yet the work has helped.  We finally have a request for a manuscript, though not an offer of representation yet.  We're optimistic, but not counting chicks. We're also still working on the query, just in case.

Now if only every agent had a blog like Ms. Reid's. But then, she is the top of the food chain. ;o]

Passing the rod

Sabrina has handled the query process for Hush since we first began shopping it, but is suffering rejection fatigue, so wants to hand off the baton for a while.  I prefer to call it "passing the rod", as in "spare the rod, spoil the child".  We've been none too sparing with the rod of correction on the ugly baby, and the manuscript has prospered because of it, but apparently the regular return of "thanks, but it isn't what I'm looking for right now" from agents we really wanted eventually feels like a beating.

This is to be expected. An agent is looking for low hanging fruit, and may well pass up the fat, ripe, and juicy if it involves too much climbing and going out on a limb for a new author.  This is particularly hard on Sabrina, who was the primary contributor of the underlying idea as well as word count.  This particular ugly baby was a labor of love, and hearing professional agents say over and over "it isn't for me" is disheartening.  I do understand.

I also understand, perhaps more viscerally, that these rejections aren't telling us the work is unworthy.  That may be hard for most people to hold in mind when getting another "no, thanks," but though I've contributed quite a bit, including chapters written, plot revisions, lots of technical consulting, and editing, editing, and yet more editing, I've always thought of this work primarily as Sabrina's.  It began as a vignette in her mind, and expanded through NaNoWriMo.  Yes, we've both worked on it for over two years where we could steal a few hours here and a weekend there, but I never tire of it.

I understand why an agent might be hesitant.  If I want to be a little facetious, it's true enough with just a sprinkling of hyperbole to call it a literary post apocalyptic dystopian science fiction horror thriller with strong elements of social commentary.  That makes it a little tricky to pigeonhole.  We've been shopping it as horror, but decided we should be calling it science fiction.  I think that it might even qualify as a psychological thriller, but you have to pick a single, simple genre.  Agents don't want complicated decisions; where do we put it on the shelf?

But it's not that complicated.  The stress is all caused by the effort to artificially categorize it.  Call it sci-fi and toss it on the shelf with Zelazny and King. "Under the Dome" isn't exactly horror. Sci-fi readers are used to browsing through disparate styles and types of content. What should matter is the quality of the story.  This book, as yet unpublished, has already made its way to my top shelf of favorites.  We wrote it, and I still can't read some scenes without getting choked up and teary eyed. Admittedly, I cry at some commercials (I love that bulldog with the sign that says he's not gonna cry...), but I've been having this reaction on these same scenes for two years, and it still makes it tricky to work together on them because I try to be the tough guy, and then my throat closes and I squeak.  My wife graciously ignores it (thank you , love), and we manage to correct a word here and a phrase there.

We're not heating, hammering, and quenching anymore; we're applying oil and slow strokes of the smooth stone to get the edge clean. To switch back to the overarching metaphor, the labor and delivery are done; now we're just breast feeding and changing the occasional diaper.  It's done.

It's not the best book I've read, but if it were published, I'd give it away and buy another, as I usually do with my favorites, to people I like and think deserve them. Maybe I'm just smitten, but I think it's as good as a lot of Stephen King's work.  Better than most of Dean Koontz, Michael Crichton, Philip K. Dick or any of several other authors on whom I've spent worthwhile money. Unfortunately, you can't actually say that in a query if you want to be taken seriously.

Bragging? Meh. Bree did all the best parts. I just helped a lot.
Well, maybe, yeah, bragging a little, on her.

So I took over the query process.  I took the same general query and synopsis she's been using, and the first few agents she suggested.  We now have a request for the manuscript.  It's not a sale, but it is a much needed boost in our self confidence.

Sometimes, you just have to believe.

Confidence - the flag everyone can wave-r

Flagging confidence is the great enemy of the new author. How does one combat it? Apparently, the adoration of one's thoroughly smitten spouse doesn't quite quench doubts regarding the quality of one's book. :)

We all ask friends and family to proof read for us, but honestly, who has time for that? I mean, there's work, and then you have to spend time at home with your own family, and then squeeze in a little time for yourself... We do understand that, but if not friends and family, then whom do you ask?

I have several friends who read.  Most are pretty picky about genre.  Several have promised to read over the ms and give feedback, but they can't finish the four books they are already reading (each), and it's impossible to escape the pervasive attitude that this isn't really a book yet, anyway.  I don't blame them.  I just wish they'd say no, rather than leave us waiting for feedback that never comes.

We formed a critique group, but the genre interests were so diverse that it was difficult to get relevant commentary, even from diligent and well-meaning peers.  I confess, though I tried very hard, it was difficult to squeeze in time for me to read everyone else's work and give it the thorough raking over the coals that each wanted and deserved.  I was perversely flattered when one respected compatriot told me he hated me for a few days afterward, but then used some of my suggestions.  I felt I'd done my job, the hard task of telling someone the worst news. I happen to like his work a lot, but as a critic my job isn't to pat him on the back and offer blandishments, and likewise I truly appreciated every time he looked at some convoluted paragraph of my own work and told me he had no idea what I was talking about.

It really helps to get constructive criticism, but it's hard.  Bree says "our families are as supportive as a double-A bra." My family aren't voracious readers of fiction, so we haven't bothered them with it.  Hers want to wait till it has an ISBN. We shrug.

Currently we're working on getting dedicated proofreaders at http://critters.org/ where members are actively seeking works to critique, and are accustomed to reading fantasy, sci-fi and horror.  Friends and family have something invested in our emotional well-being. Critters, as critters.org folk are called, can only react to what's on the page. That's ideal.