Summertime, Summertime, Sum, Sum, Summertime
10 Jul 2011 4 Comments
in My Thoughts
It’s finally here. My summer vacation. Five whole weeks without having to think about work. Well not too much, anyway. Being self-employed, I will have to go in and pay bills and catch up on the bookkeeping a couple of times, but that won’t amount to much.
My big plans for my holiday? Writing. I am committed to finishing the first draft of my second novel by the end of August. I have set myself a goal of twenty-five pages a week for not only the five weeks of my vacation, but also for the last three weeks of August. Meeting this goal will put the manuscript at approximately 355 pages, or 87,000 words. If I’m not finished by that point, I’ll be darn close.
The biggest problem for most writers, including myself, is staying motivated to keep the butt in the chair hour after hour. I am attempting to use this blog as my motivation. Every Sunday for the next eight weeks I will check in here and post an honest review of my progress and note how well (or not) I’ve met my goal. There’s nothing like the threat of public humiliation to counter the writing blah’s.
See you here next week with twenty-five new pages in hand.
… Then Again, Maybe Not
21 Jun 2011 4 Comments
in My Thoughts
Eight days after posting an entry about whether or not I should publish independently, one of those seven agents I was sure I’d never hear from again requested my entire manuscript.
Well, actually, it was the agent’s assistant’s intern. But the point is, I have a foot in the door. And I’ve been told that the best way to get to an agent is through the assistant. Maybe the best way to get to the assistant is through the intern. And I can hope the intern has more time on her hands and can actually read the manuscript quickly and then sing its praises to her bosses.
Independent publishing is still an option. Realistically, however, it will take a year, if not longer, for me to be ready to publish my book. I should have a definite answer from the agent before then, at least I sincerely hope so. I would rather have an agent and a traditional publisher, but it never hurts to have a back-up plan.
Now the wait, and the work, begin…
Time to go Indie?
12 Jun 2011 8 Comments
in My Thoughts
I run my own business, I’m a single mom by choice, I’ve travelled through Europe and North Africa by myself. The word ‘independence’ defines my life. Should I also be going this route when it comes to publishing my books?
Until a week ago, I would have said no way. Independent publishing might work for non-fiction or trade publications, but not for fiction. Never. Well, maybe one or two authors got lucky, like Brunonia Barry with The Lace Reader, but that was a fluke, right? No, it wasn’t. First of all, Ms. Barry went into self-publishing with a well thought out business plan. She also happens to be a gifted writer who produced a book people wanted to read. Secondly, it’s far from a one-time occurrence. Mark Twain, Zane Grey, Edgar Allen Poe and Virginia Woolf, among others, all self-published. James Joyce self-published Ulysses because no publisher would take it (personally, I’m with the publishers on this one, but apparently people who like that book do exist). Anne Rice came within a hair’s-breadth of self-publishing Interview with a Vampire because every publisher rejected it … except the very last one on the list.
I’m not at that last resort yet. I haven’t submitted to any publishers. But I have exhausted the list of agents who are accepting unsolicited submissions in the urban fantasy genre. Well, seven agents still have my query, so maybe I’ll still get lucky. But judging by my experience thus far, at least five of those won’t respond at all. I’ve submitted to a total of 33 agents and had only one request for more material. This means they are rejecting me without having read any of the book at all. Perhaps refining my pitch would help, but I’ve rewritten it twice, both times with the help of professionals.
The more I learn about traditional publishing, the more discouraged I get. A literary agent recently conducted a survey on her blog to find out who is writing what. 26% of those who responded were writing sci-fi/fantasy. She did some research and discovered that only 6% of books bought by publishers last year were sci-fi/fantasy. That means there are more than five times as many books being written in my genre than there are publishers willing to purchase them. Wow. Furthermore, if my first published work is urban fantasy, I will forever be an urban fantasy writer. That last bit of information has had me trying to push my current novel down a road it doesn’t want to go just so it has a chance of getting published on the heels of the first, or vice versa.
There are pro’s and con’s. Self-publishing gives a much bigger profit margin; however, there is a much lower sales potential. Self-publishing also means I have to do ALL the marketing, including getting the book into bookstores. Yikes. Luckily, I do belong to a supportive community of writers and there is always someone who has experience with every aspect of the business; however, it would still be up to me alone to do the work. It’s a big decision.
So I ask my writing colleagues now – what are your thoughts? Have you considered this for your novels?
My Muse, How I’ve Missed You
27 May 2011 2 Comments
in My Thoughts
For whatever reason, be it the commitment to producing regular work for my critiquing group, or my colleague’s publication and launch party this week, or my thirteen-year-old’s suggestion that a recent memory lapse was a sure sign of nascent menopause (and the probable truth in that statement certainly provides extra impetus), I find myself absorbed in the act of writing. It’s great to be me again.
Compared to “Lifetimes”, “Circles” has been a difficult slog. Every word has been pried out unwillingly. Sitting at the keyboard has been a chore and too often I couldn’t force myself to do it. I didn’t have a firm grasp on the concepts I wanted to explore in the book. My storyline fell apart soon after the mid-point and the closer I got to that point, the more I resisted writing.
The thunderbolt has hit. I know what needs to be done and I can barely tear myself away. I’m rushing the kids off to bed at the earliest possible opportunity (what do you mean six o’clock is too early?) so I can glue myself to the computer screen. When I’m not writing, I’m jotting down notes or researching. Even when I appear to be doing domestic chores (the kids still seem to expect me to feed them – cold cereal counts as a food group, right?), I’m really deepening character development and concocting plot twists.
My apparent absent-mindedness is resulting in much age-related humour at my expense. However, I can now honestly respond with “I heard you speaking, I just wasn’t listening.” I don’t think they believe me.
Gotta run. My muse is calling and lately she’s a real taskmaster. Just the way I like her.
Do You Feel the Rapture?
21 May 2011 5 Comments
in My Thoughts
Just to set the record straight, no one has predicted the world will end today, May 21, 2011. Not at all. Today is the day of rapture. Around 6pm this evening, the 200 million “true believers” will be gathered into heaven and five months of hell on earth will begin for everyone left behind. It’s only at the end of these five months, on October 21, 2011, that the world will end. At least according to Harold Camping.
My initial reaction to hearing the end of the world is nigh was to max out all my credit cards and drown myself in a tub of Haagen Dazs white chocolate raspberry truffle. And, oh yeah, spend time with my kids.
It was somewhat disconcerting to find out today is only the rapture. Being non-Christian, I am certainly not among the chosen, but that’s not what bothers me. Heck, after a Canadian winter, the fires of hell sound downright inviting. The problem is my financial advisor, being an all-round beautiful person as well as a devout Baptist, is a prime candidate for rapturing. So what happens to my retirement savings when he ascends to heaven? I guess the upside is I only have five months to worry about it.
For the last two weeks, people have been poking fun at Mr. Camping’s expense. But you gotta admire him. Prognostication is a risky business and to make a specific prediction, on a specific date, well that takes guts.
Even the greatest thinkers and prophets in history lacked the gumption to predict the end of the world in their own lifetimes. Isaac Newton believed the world would end in 2060. Nostradamus has been variously interpreted as saying the world would end in 1984, 1999, 2000, 2012, although he himself stated that his prophecies extended until the year 3797. Even the great Edgar Cayce wimped out and predicted a shifting of the earth’s axis, the submergence of both coasts of North America and the re-emergence of Atlantis by the year 2001, fifty-six years after his own death (which he did predict accurately, btw). His reincarnated self is flushed with embarrassment as we speak.
Even being wrong before hasn’t dampened Mr. Camping’s enthusiasm. On September 6, 1994, at his urging, hundreds gathered in Alameda, New Mexico, to await the second coming. After being knocked down, he got right back on that horse. Good on ya, Harry! We should all be so self-confident.
And if anyone reading this suspects Harold Camping might be right, you should know there have been at least a dozen end-of-world predictions in the last thirty years. Chances are, we’ll all make it through just fine. Again.
Per Ardua ad Astra
18 May 2011 6 Comments
in My Thoughts
“Please do not take this rejection as a comment on your writing ability. I can only properly represent material that greatly excites or interests me, especially in the current difficult publishing climate. Since this is such a subjective business, I am sure another agent will feel quite differently about your work.”
This is what I found in my inbox this morning. It wasn’t as disappointing as I expected. Maybe because I’m getting used to rejection by now. Maybe because I really do believe it isn’t about my writing ability. After all, if my writing sucked she wouldn’t have requested more material in the first place.
Now to get serious with those query letters again. As my old high school motto said, “Per ardua ad astra.” We were always told that meant “onwards and upwards”, but I have recently learned it really means “through adversity to the stars,” which I think is more fitting.
The Wheels of Progress
14 May 2011 2 Comments
in My Thoughts
Six months into this blog, my fears have been realized. I find myself searching for something to say every week, and not always succeeding.
My original intent was to principally talk about my progress as a writer. I stray from this objective more and more because I’ve discovered a shocking truth: a writer’s life is neither glamourous nor exciting. There simply isn’t any progress to report on a weekly basis. The agent who is reading the first fifty pages of “Lifetimes” still has not responded. At the end of this week I sent her a gentle reminder, as she requested I do at this time. Perhaps I’ll have news next week, good or bad.
This week I did have the great pleasure of introducing a young writer to the Writer’s Community of Durham Region. She came home from the breakfast meeting brimming with enthusiasm and armed with a fistful of notices about writing workshops and competitions. She’s all set to send in her membership and she will be a valuable member of the community.
I continue to be involved with an incredible critiquing group. Our increased standards and more stringent deadlines have gotten me off by butt, or rather ONTO my butt, in front of the keyboard. So instead of nattering on, I’ve decided to share some of my recent progress with “Circles”.
* * *
Fire split the sky. Disc-shaped vessels dove and spun, filling the sky with flashes of light. Some of the fire hit the ground, exploding mud brick homes. Panicked residents clogged the narrow streets. I felt myself jostled and shoved back against a wall. I waited for a break in the mob and pushed ahead. A spray of hardened mud peppered my hair and my back. The wall I had been leaning against moments before, gone.
I rode the crowd out into the city plaza. Above the ziggurat, two of the craft danced around each other, firing and missing. Stray fire hit the temple, sending giant stones tumbling down the sides into the throng below. One wave of humanity tried to move back into the city streets; the other, the one I was in, stood its ground, staring at their lost temple. Men cried. Women beat their breasts, their mouths moving all the while.
Moving hands caught my attention. Two women were signing. It appeared to be the same language used by the man and the woman in the high tower, though I couldn’t get a clear enough line of sight to know for sure. I glanced up at the ruined ziggurat. I must have been inside there before. I turned back to the signers. What I could see of their hand movements told me they were experts. They must have been Deaf.
I elbowed my way between the two nearest people. As I inched along, others turned to look where I was looking. Just as I neared my target, a large man grabbed one of the Deaf women and held her from behind. Another punched her in the gut, in the spot where a slight swelling showed beneath her robes. The man holding her let go and she crumpled to the ground. Her companion tried to run, but was thrown down on top of her friend. All those within reach – men, women, children – fell on them, kicking, punching. Blood oozed a viscous trail beneath the writhing mass.
* * *
I woke trembling, blankets kicked aside, pyjamas soaked with sweat. Damp hair stuck to my face. I reached around for the window curtains and opened them. After my eyes adjusted, the moonlight illuminated enough for me to make out my surroundings. I pushed aside the curtain to the rest of the RV and tiptoed down the ladder and across the floor. I nudged open the door, hoping it didn’t make enough noise to wake anyone.
