The wife has been swamped of late, developing a nice bit of mass market fiction she's thoroughly enjoying. In the meantime, I steal the show and ramble again.
My babies are usually pretty ugly, and I have them in litters. I have three novels with significant word count, several with placeholder files, and synopses on my blackberry for SEVERAL more...
But one is full of song lyrics. Nobody explained what a massive pain it is to get licensing until I had a eighty thousand words. I'm hoping that as a second novel an agent will be willing to help me with that. There's one book tabled.
The next one is techie, a baby with green skin and antennae. I write very hard science fiction. It's what I want to read, worldbuilding details of setting, technology and politics, the variations in a non-homogenous interstellar culture... Not many want to read that level of tech.
What I enjoy writing is technical enough that few will buy it. I may be the best writer in the niche, but maybe no agent wants work so esoteric. I can "dumb it down", but what I enjoy in writing it may die in the process.
My babies are kinda ugly. I have to decide if I want to keep making them...
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
The Other Cheek
Sometimes, cheeky is good.
There are rules when submitting a query. Format, word count, various others... It's like a uniform. Get in line and stand at attention and hope you DO get noticed. Absolutely DO NOT pointlessly flaunt these rules. Still, more often than not, you'll probably be rejected, looked over in the rank and file. If they actually ask for a partial, you're probably *still* going to be rejected, but at least you gave it a shot.
When my stepfather was in the navy after WWII, the chaplain called an assembly before a shore leave in a foreign port. All the enlisted men filed in for the predictable turn the other cheek speech. "Boys," the chaplain said, "I know you're going to go places I'd rather you didn't, and I'm telling you that when the locals see you in that uniform, some are gonna pick a fight for no reason, so you listen to me: when they come up to you with that attitude, I don't want you to say a word to them. I want you to just turn around and punch them right between the eyes just as hard as you can...and if they don't fall down, you run, 'cause they ain't gonna."
It wasn't what they expected, but it was, strangely enough, good advice. There wasn't time to get to know each other and discuss world views. You walk in wearing your uniform, and the people either like you, your uniform and your ugly baby, or they reject you. If they single you out, then throw your best punch and don't apologize; give them the partial from the ms you've spent blood, sweat and tears on, and sell yourself like a cheap Hanoi whore. If they like it and they want it, if they go down after that one massive punch, you're glorious. If not, run, go find another bar, another publisher, another agent, and try again. With luck you'll get time for one beer and a little polish on the query between each.
The one difference is that, when you turn the other cheek, make it your backside as you sprint for the next goal, but never give up. If you get a chance to see the agent you REALLY wanted at a conference, even if they rejected you already, then go ahead, throw that second punch. Who knows, maybe the first one just missed. Just be respectful of their time, and keep your fingers crossed.
And good luck -- maybe this time a Hanoi whore with the ugly baby will be a little bit more to their tastes. ;)
There are rules when submitting a query. Format, word count, various others... It's like a uniform. Get in line and stand at attention and hope you DO get noticed. Absolutely DO NOT pointlessly flaunt these rules. Still, more often than not, you'll probably be rejected, looked over in the rank and file. If they actually ask for a partial, you're probably *still* going to be rejected, but at least you gave it a shot.
When my stepfather was in the navy after WWII, the chaplain called an assembly before a shore leave in a foreign port. All the enlisted men filed in for the predictable turn the other cheek speech. "Boys," the chaplain said, "I know you're going to go places I'd rather you didn't, and I'm telling you that when the locals see you in that uniform, some are gonna pick a fight for no reason, so you listen to me: when they come up to you with that attitude, I don't want you to say a word to them. I want you to just turn around and punch them right between the eyes just as hard as you can...and if they don't fall down, you run, 'cause they ain't gonna."
It wasn't what they expected, but it was, strangely enough, good advice. There wasn't time to get to know each other and discuss world views. You walk in wearing your uniform, and the people either like you, your uniform and your ugly baby, or they reject you. If they single you out, then throw your best punch and don't apologize; give them the partial from the ms you've spent blood, sweat and tears on, and sell yourself like a cheap Hanoi whore. If they like it and they want it, if they go down after that one massive punch, you're glorious. If not, run, go find another bar, another publisher, another agent, and try again. With luck you'll get time for one beer and a little polish on the query between each.
The one difference is that, when you turn the other cheek, make it your backside as you sprint for the next goal, but never give up. If you get a chance to see the agent you REALLY wanted at a conference, even if they rejected you already, then go ahead, throw that second punch. Who knows, maybe the first one just missed. Just be respectful of their time, and keep your fingers crossed.
And good luck -- maybe this time a Hanoi whore with the ugly baby will be a little bit more to their tastes. ;)
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
The value of editing
So you've finished your manuscript. Wipe it's behind and start sending out snapshots.
That's really all a query is -- a snapshot of your ms that you hope will show a prospective agent what a beautiful baby it is and make them want to adopt it. The trouble is, while we have managed to (pro)create, we're not all necessarily professional photographers.
Writing a query is very , very, VERY different from writing a novel. You've managed maybe a hundred thousand words or story arc, rich characters the reader will love and empathize with or despise and curse, tension and drama and humor and blood-chilling moments of climactic adrenalin rush, subtle subplots and moral dilemma, all neatly wrapped up and tied with a literary bow by the end of the work. Bravo! Now sell it in two hundred fifty words.
Hm.
Stop and think about it. How many times have you idly glanced at the back of a book you've read and loved only to be incensed and indignant about the ridiculously inadequate treatment of the plot in the cover blurb? How DO you make someone really get the depth of the work in a single page of sales pitch?
For the record, the photo of the little possessed, staring, ragamuffin newborn at the top of this blog is our son Khavien. We picked that picture for a reason. He's a beautiful boy, one of the most adorable I've ever seen...and yes, I know I might be a little prejudiced on the matter, but it's been independently corroborated. =O)
It's not a flattering photo. It's not his worst, either. It's about even with what I expect most people start with for a query letter. Unappealing, unrepresentative, and unclear. How do we fix it?
I've done a good bit of work as an amateur photographer. I've been to events for amateur photographers. I can tell you a secret; for those of us who don't have years of training and experience, the best photos are selected from lots and lots and lots of utter crap. I have some of which I'm really proud, but that doesn't make me a good photographer. It just makes me persistent.
Queries don't work quite that way. The closest equivalent is to polish, edit, get some feedback, edit and polish some more... In other words, keep snapping the shutter and looking at the result till you get what you wanted, or at least something acceptably close.
Use the Agent Query link at the top of this blog, and submit your query for review on their forums. Find a writers' group and float it among them. Add punch, remove words, rework sentences. Keep adjusting and re-snapping the shutter until you believe it's as close as you're likely to get.
Then remember that no matter how lovely a picture you've made of your bouncing baby boy, some people are just not going to adopt him, because they want a girl, or a blonde, or one with green eyes. Don't complain about their prejudices; just keep looking till you find someone that will love him for who and what he is.
After all, do you really want an agent that isn't behind you all the way?
That's really all a query is -- a snapshot of your ms that you hope will show a prospective agent what a beautiful baby it is and make them want to adopt it. The trouble is, while we have managed to (pro)create, we're not all necessarily professional photographers.
Writing a query is very , very, VERY different from writing a novel. You've managed maybe a hundred thousand words or story arc, rich characters the reader will love and empathize with or despise and curse, tension and drama and humor and blood-chilling moments of climactic adrenalin rush, subtle subplots and moral dilemma, all neatly wrapped up and tied with a literary bow by the end of the work. Bravo! Now sell it in two hundred fifty words.
Hm.
Stop and think about it. How many times have you idly glanced at the back of a book you've read and loved only to be incensed and indignant about the ridiculously inadequate treatment of the plot in the cover blurb? How DO you make someone really get the depth of the work in a single page of sales pitch?
For the record, the photo of the little possessed, staring, ragamuffin newborn at the top of this blog is our son Khavien. We picked that picture for a reason. He's a beautiful boy, one of the most adorable I've ever seen...and yes, I know I might be a little prejudiced on the matter, but it's been independently corroborated. =O)
It's not a flattering photo. It's not his worst, either. It's about even with what I expect most people start with for a query letter. Unappealing, unrepresentative, and unclear. How do we fix it?
I've done a good bit of work as an amateur photographer. I've been to events for amateur photographers. I can tell you a secret; for those of us who don't have years of training and experience, the best photos are selected from lots and lots and lots of utter crap. I have some of which I'm really proud, but that doesn't make me a good photographer. It just makes me persistent.
Queries don't work quite that way. The closest equivalent is to polish, edit, get some feedback, edit and polish some more... In other words, keep snapping the shutter and looking at the result till you get what you wanted, or at least something acceptably close.
Use the Agent Query link at the top of this blog, and submit your query for review on their forums. Find a writers' group and float it among them. Add punch, remove words, rework sentences. Keep adjusting and re-snapping the shutter until you believe it's as close as you're likely to get.
Then remember that no matter how lovely a picture you've made of your bouncing baby boy, some people are just not going to adopt him, because they want a girl, or a blonde, or one with green eyes. Don't complain about their prejudices; just keep looking till you find someone that will love him for who and what he is.
After all, do you really want an agent that isn't behind you all the way?
Sunday, February 20, 2011
What do you do now that your ms is complete?
Complete. I love that word. Is it ever really complete? At some point you have to leave the kid alone or he'll come out demented, but it's hard to know when you've hit the point of diminishing returns. Every time I take a look at my ms, I want to add things, change things, pull things out.
When you get to the point of changing the same word within the same paragraph back and forth between two choices - you've reached the point of diminishing returns. Maybe you need to sit back and leave it alone. Let it simmer for several weeks.
Here's a thought. Perfect my query letter. Work on my synopsis. Or, just as good, work on the next ms. When I need to take a break, I go research the writer's world. Help others with critiques, even with limited knowledge. After all, as readers, we're as much the target audience as writers.
When you get to the point of changing the same word within the same paragraph back and forth between two choices - you've reached the point of diminishing returns. Maybe you need to sit back and leave it alone. Let it simmer for several weeks.
Here's a thought. Perfect my query letter. Work on my synopsis. Or, just as good, work on the next ms. When I need to take a break, I go research the writer's world. Help others with critiques, even with limited knowledge. After all, as readers, we're as much the target audience as writers.
Following Directions
Failure to follow directions often means failure to launch. If an agent asks you not to include links or attachments, don't be surprised if they form reject the full query when you do. Agents usually offer reasonably clear instructions for queries. Find them, read them, follow them.
Still, agents should understand not everyone thinks the same way. Sometimes what makes a writer's work interesting is an odd perspective. Clarity is worthwhile for the agent as for the writer.
Some agents have rigid ideas of what a query should be, but many will entertain anything well presented, though 'well presented' is a matter of mood. I don't begrudge them their humanity. I'm sure they don't begrudge me the salve to my ego.
There are things I'd like clarified, though, and I hope some agents read this and try to make my task a little easier.
"Send a query and the first five pages of your manuscript..."
Assume 12pt, double spaced with one-inch margins in either Times New Roman or Courier... roughly 250 words/page. Yet I stress over details. Should I cut off in the middle of a paragraph? A sentence? If not, may I finish one begun, or must I end the page early? When you only have roughly 1,250 words, it matters.
Sabrina's novel has a sizeable prologue. It establishes history, setting, and expectations, but describes relevant events eighty years prior to the story of the book itself. While the voice and style are basically the same, the only character alive in the rest of the book isn't introduced until much later, well after five pages. Is that the "first five pages" they want? She's started ignoring the prologue and sends from the actual chapter one, but that's not the first thing a reader will see. We don't want to be disingenuous, either by including or omitting it. Which is correct?
Still, agents should understand not everyone thinks the same way. Sometimes what makes a writer's work interesting is an odd perspective. Clarity is worthwhile for the agent as for the writer.
Some agents have rigid ideas of what a query should be, but many will entertain anything well presented, though 'well presented' is a matter of mood. I don't begrudge them their humanity. I'm sure they don't begrudge me the salve to my ego.
There are things I'd like clarified, though, and I hope some agents read this and try to make my task a little easier.
"Send a query and the first five pages of your manuscript..."
Assume 12pt, double spaced with one-inch margins in either Times New Roman or Courier... roughly 250 words/page. Yet I stress over details. Should I cut off in the middle of a paragraph? A sentence? If not, may I finish one begun, or must I end the page early? When you only have roughly 1,250 words, it matters.
Sabrina's novel has a sizeable prologue. It establishes history, setting, and expectations, but describes relevant events eighty years prior to the story of the book itself. While the voice and style are basically the same, the only character alive in the rest of the book isn't introduced until much later, well after five pages. Is that the "first five pages" they want? She's started ignoring the prologue and sends from the actual chapter one, but that's not the first thing a reader will see. We don't want to be disingenuous, either by including or omitting it. Which is correct?
Posting Rejection Letters
I've discussed this with Paul and here's what we've come up with.
Posting the format of rejection letters in a generalized way can be a great help to other writers. Knowing what to expect makes you feel less isolated when you do receive that rejection letter.
Posting an agent's name and rejection letter word for word is about as professional as having that agent post your query letter without your permission. Personally, I don't mind having my query posted. That gives me the chance to earn feedback and gives other writers one possible sample (good or bad). Not everyone feels as I do.
I do believe that agents should be as professional in their rejection letters as anything else. Firing off a nasty note in the heat of the moment shows a lack of professionalism and no writer should want to deal with that anymore than an agent wants to deal with an unprofessional writer. However, nastiness is often, and deserves to be, outed. Both agents and writers should remain aware that the definition of privacy is changing rapidly and after-the-fact lawsuits may not salve reputations.
That said, I will not post rejection letters, nor name agents. I will discuss the fact of some of my rejections, which may be legion, and perhaps the tone of rejection letters received. I will also post my reactions to said rejection letters and how they affect my overall outlook and whether they spark changes to my query, synopsis, or ms. But no more than that.
Posting the format of rejection letters in a generalized way can be a great help to other writers. Knowing what to expect makes you feel less isolated when you do receive that rejection letter.
Posting an agent's name and rejection letter word for word is about as professional as having that agent post your query letter without your permission. Personally, I don't mind having my query posted. That gives me the chance to earn feedback and gives other writers one possible sample (good or bad). Not everyone feels as I do.
I do believe that agents should be as professional in their rejection letters as anything else. Firing off a nasty note in the heat of the moment shows a lack of professionalism and no writer should want to deal with that anymore than an agent wants to deal with an unprofessional writer. However, nastiness is often, and deserves to be, outed. Both agents and writers should remain aware that the definition of privacy is changing rapidly and after-the-fact lawsuits may not salve reputations.
That said, I will not post rejection letters, nor name agents. I will discuss the fact of some of my rejections, which may be legion, and perhaps the tone of rejection letters received. I will also post my reactions to said rejection letters and how they affect my overall outlook and whether they spark changes to my query, synopsis, or ms. But no more than that.
Beginning The Quest For a Literary Agent
I must admit, I'm enjoying the query process. I'm researching agents, chatting with interesting people, learning all about the infamous query letter. Writing a query letter takes almost as much sweat as writing a 97,000 word ms. It's scary. It's also necessary to finding a literary agent.
I'm not going to detail query letter writing here. My friend Denise Tompkins did a great job of that already, so be sure and check out her post on the topic here. Remember that query letter writing is not an exact science. Some of the oddest (to me) query letters have been posted on the net as success stories, and some of the ones I thought were fantastic don't seem to generate results. Read all you can about writing a query letter and then do you.
In any case, I've written my query letter and tweaked and polished for about three weeks. I'm not sure that's enough. I've tried to think like a literary agent <snicker>, put my inexperienced self in the shoes of a literary agent, and still am not sure it's where it should be. Nevertheless, I've started sending out those query letters.
One piece of the agent puzzle some sites and books forget to mention is reading directions. A lot of agents have web sites. Why is it then, that people fail to follow directions, despite the fact that it will get them rejected? Jennifer Jackson is one literary agent who mentions rejections on the basis of failure to follow directions. Think about that. If you cannot follow basic directions, what agent will ever want to work with you?
So far, I've been told my baby is ugly three times. Well, not really. No agent has told me my ms is hairy or warty. It just feels that way. Details to follow.
I'm not going to detail query letter writing here. My friend Denise Tompkins did a great job of that already, so be sure and check out her post on the topic here. Remember that query letter writing is not an exact science. Some of the oddest (to me) query letters have been posted on the net as success stories, and some of the ones I thought were fantastic don't seem to generate results. Read all you can about writing a query letter and then do you.
In any case, I've written my query letter and tweaked and polished for about three weeks. I'm not sure that's enough. I've tried to think like a literary agent <snicker>, put my inexperienced self in the shoes of a literary agent, and still am not sure it's where it should be. Nevertheless, I've started sending out those query letters.
One piece of the agent puzzle some sites and books forget to mention is reading directions. A lot of agents have web sites. Why is it then, that people fail to follow directions, despite the fact that it will get them rejected? Jennifer Jackson is one literary agent who mentions rejections on the basis of failure to follow directions. Think about that. If you cannot follow basic directions, what agent will ever want to work with you?
So far, I've been told my baby is ugly three times. Well, not really. No agent has told me my ms is hairy or warty. It just feels that way. Details to follow.
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