Posted at Jan 30, 2012 6:00 pm
One of my 2011 goals was to get an agent. Now this isn’t something I can actually control, but I can control my query and submission activity. Being a Golden Heart finalist seems to give a writer a leg up on agents requesting manuscripts. At a panel discussion, Laura Bradford likened Golden Heart finalists to chum and the agents were the sharks circling round us. They wanted to make sure the big one didn’t get away.
Unfortunately, Savannah Sighs, the manuscript that finaled in the 2011 Golden Heart, was in need of deep revisions. Between vacation and tax returns, I didn’t finish those revisions until May. When it was finally in shape to query, I began scouring agents that represented both category romance and single title. Then I started querying.
I had pitched to one of my dream agents at WisRWA and she suggested I send ten pages to her partner and copy her on the email. To my surprise, the agent requested the first fifty pages within the hour. (On a Saturday evening.) On Monday morning, I had my first phone call rejection with suggestions on how to revise the manuscript and a willingness to see to the revisions.
I was stoked. By this time, I had a couple of different manuscripts out to editors. It feels good when an editor requests your work after seeing it in a contest.
To my delight, an agent requested a full manuscript from one of my first queries. She also requested a one week excusive. The exclusive request was a first for me, but since no one had the manuscript at the time, I agreed. The week came and went with no additional contact from the agent. With no rejection or additional correspondence, I assumed she just didn’t fall in love with the story. (Sometimes I wonder who the first agent was that put that in a rejection letter. Did they know that other agent would use the phrase?)
I quickly submitted more queries, hoping to get a few more requests before RWA at the end of June. But by allowing the one week exclusive, I knew the agents would also be getting ready for the national convention. I could only hope that they would be checking email periodically during their week in NYC.
A chapter mate convinced me to come to the Harlequin Pajama party on Wednesday night. I dined with the Starcatchers, the 2011 Golden Heart finalists, and then caught up with the lovely author, Cat Schield and her roommate, December Gephart. (I refused to put on PJs, thank goodness.) Low and behold, the agent who requested the exclusive was standing near the bar. I quickly introduced myself, hoping I hadn’t had too much wine.
The agent actually looked pleased to see me and said she had planned to find me during the Golden Heart Award ceremony. We started talking, finally moving out to the hall to be able to be heard. I am so glad I had practiced pitches for all of my completed manuscripts, because we talked about them all. She requested blurbs and where each manuscript had been and my excitement grew. She talked about possible issues with the manuscript, and I loved everything she was saying about my writing and my career. When she said she wanted to send me a contract after the conference was over, I was ecstatic. I had just received my first offer of representation. Only one comment made me uneasy. She said she assumed there were all sorts of agents snapping at my heels and she would be cheering for me for the award ceremony.
I danced back into the room, the agent’s business card in hand. Cat insisted on taking a picture of the agent and I. I ran upstairs and called my family and then went looking for more chaptermates. I now had a dilemma. I had an agent appointment on Thursday. What should I do?
I decided to keep the agent appointment and received a full request. Then on Friday I had an Editor appointment with the lovely Victoria Curran of Harlequin. There’s where I made my first mistake. I did not pitch my Golden Heart book, but talked with Victoria about the premise to make sure it would fit the SuperRomance line and talked about another book that she had requested a partial through a contest.
Even though I didn’t win my category, I received another agent request in the bar. I’m so glad I was having a drink that night, even though the place was packed.
On my flight home Saturday, I prepped my query letters to the agents who had requested fulls. MyI emailed all the requests and an additional one that had come in during the week and then headed to the lake for a much needed break. My thought was that when I received the contract, I would contact any agent who had my material and see if they were interested.
It took me a few more days, and then I sent off the blurbs and a recap to the agent who’d offered representation at the conference. I also sent a note to one of my chaptermates who was represented by her and who loves her. Then I waited. And waited.
Mid-July I finally heard from the agent. Instead of a contract, she sent me an email saying she had finally finished Savannah Sighs, (she hadn’t read the full manuscript before offering to send me a contract?) and that the premise kept her from falling in love with the story. I felt like my legs had been knocked out from under me. Although she offered to talk, she hasn’t returned my last phone call.
When I finally licked my wounds enough to be able to tell people, I also asked both the 2010 and 2011 Golden Heart finalists if they had ever heard of this happening before. Apparently I am unique. And this time it doesn’t feel wonderful.
So I am back on the hunt for an agent. I have had some positive rejections (boy is that the perfect writer oxymoron?) on Savannah Sighs and I have started revising based on the comments of the agent who actually called and rejected me.
Wish me luck for an agent in 2012!
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Posted at May 3, 2011 4:04 pm
The first step backwards into space is the hardest. I had to trust that two strangers would keep me from tumbling down 165 feet of rock face and water. I surely didn’t want to be that little note in Tripadvisor that warns – This group lost a tourist recently.
I gritted my teeth. Heck if the 11 year-old could do this, so could I. Behind me waited a 4 year-old that would go down on a guide’s legs. I sure couldn’t chicken out.
It sounds simple. Guides were at the top and bottom of the repel holding my rope. I gripped the rope above my head and below my hip. My left hand, my power hand, tucked the rope next to my hip. This was my brake. Then – I stepped into the void. My harness acted like a chair. Kicking off the rocks, I forced my fingers to let the rope slide. As my momentum swung me back into the rock face, I took the impact with my bent legs. Repeat — until I returned to terra firma.
Oh – and keep your legs out at about a 90 degree angle. The natural tendency as you fall is to drop your legs. Bad. You drop your legs, you swing into the rocks and bang assorted body parts. In my case, it was a knee connecting with a rock camouflaged by a waterfall on our second repel. I didn’t even notice the injury until someone pointed out that I was bleeding.
Combine all these techniques, add in gorgeous waterfalls and a lush green tropical forest – and you have waterfall repelling near the Arenal Volcano in Cost Rica.
Our tour was through Pure Trek Canyoning. Our guides’ English was excellent. The company handled all transactions in US dollars. After a traditional lunch of chicken, rice and beans, they loaded the group of 12 tourists into trucks and drove us to our debarkation point. There our large crew of guides tucked us into harnesses. After zip-lining and skiing a glacier in Chamonix, I’ve become adept at climbing into all the gear. Then we needed to be fitted with helmets. (Note – my helmet matched my top.) Add leather gloves, and you’re ready. Boy, did the gloves smell once you got them wet.
The entire experience takes 5 hours. With lunch, travel time, 5 repels, hiking back out of the canyon, changing into dry clothes, and cookies and coffee (Costa Rican coffee is excellent and I’m not a coffee drinker) it was a memorable afternoon. They also provide a photographer and pictures were available while we had a coffee.
It was so much fun – I would do it again!
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Posted at Mar 26, 2011 2:30 am
I have to admit, two years ago I had no idea why people went crazy the day the Finalists for the Golden Heart and RITAs were announced. Of course, that was because I’d never been a finalist.
In 2010 I was thrilled when Steel Hearts was a finalist in the Single Title Cateory. I joined the Unsinkables, the class of 2010 Golden Heart Finalists. I have learned so much from the group. The Unsinkable have supported me, advised me and commiserated with me.
So as March 25, 2011 approached, I finally understood why people fret. this year, I felt I had to prove 2010 wasn’t a fluke. Unfortunately, GH judging is very subjective.
So last night I plugged my cell phone in next to my bed. (I couldn’t remember what phone number RWA had.) Then I made sure the alarm was set, because last year the call woke me up.
Well I didn’t wake to a GH call. In fact, I decided to exercise — Wii Fit. Wouldn’t want to be at the YMCA if the Call came in. First time I’ve exercised and made sure the phone was in reach.
Thank goodness I did. Just as I finished up my 30 jackknifes — ughh — the phone rang.
I can’t even tell you the name of the board member who called. She was very nice, but the name slipped by me — all I heard was RWA and SAVANNAH SIGHS was a finalist in the Contemporary Series Category.
I emailed my critique partners and family. Then I headed over to the Ruby Slippered Sisterhood for the craziness. By the time I caught my chapter loop, I already had congratulations waiting for me. It’s a wonderful feeling. By midmorning I already received an agent request.
I’m looking forward to a wonderful time up through the end of June and the Grand Finale in New York City.
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Posted at Feb 20, 2011 9:31 pm
A new year is always so full of hope and possibilities. Setting new resolutions, dreaming new dreams all seem to symbolize a fresh beginning. A person can shrug off anything negative that happened in the prior year and build on all the positives. Use those positives as a foundation to continue to grow and achieve in the next year.
I made the typical writing goals. Last year they were all about completing projects, this year they’re about querying. No use being a writer if the only people who see work are your critique group and contest judges. 2011 will be the year I hone the art of querying and revisions.
Two events last week brought me up short. And it’s taken me a while to post this blog.
Princess, my cat, which of course started out as the children’s cat and as they went off to college became mine, started losing weight in December. When a seven pound cat starts losing weight, you feel the bones of her spine and shoulders pretty quickly. Then Princess started fixating on water. She’d wander into the walk in shower. I was never sure if she was licking up the drips, or just listening to the pipes. Then she would stare for hours at her water dish. She’d always had weird habits when she ate, pulling each morsel of cat food out of the dish with her paw, and then eating them off the floor. But then she started to dip her paw into her water dish.
And of course she slept, nothing unusual for a twelve-year old cat. Typically, she would curl on my legs as I wrote with my laptop on my lap. She’d act disgusted when she couldn’t crawl up next to my face. But last month, she didn’t have the energy. Instead we’d find her curled in her cat bed on our heated floor. It had gotten cold, so that didn’t seem so strange. I like sitting in that warm and toasty sitting area too.
Then I found her peeing in my closet and under my vanity. Constant reminders to keep to the closet door closed didn’t seem to work for my husband, so I took to blocking off access and spraying with Febreeze and Lysol and cleaning with Windex.
But when my son brought his one-year old cat home from college for a visit, you could see the differences. Roybert, the invader, wanted to play. Princess wanted to be left alone. Off and during the last year these two cats have had to deal with each, Princess always being the alpha. Even as sick as she was, she was still the alpha, putting a cat three times her size into his place. His place? Under the Christmas tree.
Once all the children and Roybert had gone home I knew I had to call the vet. Fearing the worst, one of my daughters volunteered to go with me. And it was the worst.
Even though dogs barked in the background, Princess curled up and fell asleep on the exam table. This wasn’t my feisty cat, proud killer of rabbits, mice and birds. Gifts she left lovingly displayed on my front step mat. (Yuck)
The doctor talked through her symptoms with us, already suspecting renal failure. Then the nurse came back with an estimate of the costs tests. Based on recommendations, we started with the blood tests – $220.
Diabetes. And liver problems.
I’d already had a cat with diabetes. An overweight Russian blue who’s life’s work was to get people to feed him. While we treated his diabetes, Sampson dropped from 18 lbs to 9 lbs and his quality of life was miserable. I was the only one able to give him his twice daily shots. One of the children hled him so he wouldn’t bolt when he saw the syringe. Now we were seeing another cat with diabetes but she only weighed 4 pounds 13 ounces. This was not a disease that could be reversed.
The vet was incredible. He told me there were no right and wrong decisions. There was very little chance of reversing her disease, because it wasn’t caused by weight. If I wanted to take her home and think about whether we wanted to start treatment that was fine. The most traumatic parts of her treatment would be in the beginning as they tried to determine the right insulin dosage.
I remember leaving Sampson at the vets, all the K-9 shepards barking each time someone came back to the kennels. When we would visit, he wanted to come home. His ears flattened against his head as the dogs howled.
The cure was almost worse than the disease.
We didn’t spend the next $150 to determine if there was renal failure. I made the decision after conferring with my husband that we wouldn’t put her through the insult.
Two sad days later, my twins received a distribution from a trust set up from the proceeds of my brother’s life insurance policy after he committed suicide. A reminder, death doesn’t always happen to the old and infirm.
My brother will forever will be 38 in my mind. I picture him smiling, usually doing something physical. Swimming, playing with his 5-year old daughter, or laying on the beach. It is hard for me to understand his despair, his depression. He owned a Kirby distributorship and never let a negative word past the threshold of the door. Everything was positive, positive, positive.
So when I talked to him on the phone, I didn’t hear his pain.
He’d relocated to Mississippi, a long way from Minnesota or South Dakota where we grew up.
We learned a lot about depression after my brother died. My sister became actively involved in SA/VE – Suicide Awareness/Voices of Education becoming a Board Member and speaker in their school outreach program.
Depression is preventable. But it has to be diagnosed. I wish my brother had been closer to the family so we could see the changes wrought by this insidious disease. I wish his ex-wife and called someone in the family when he’d threatened to commit suicide previously. I wish he hadn’t been drinking on his last night.
But I can’t control the past. I can — and do — give generously to SA/VE — Suicide Awareness Voices of Education. My sister has set up a fund in my brother’s name, our brother, forever 38 and smiling in our hearts. I no longer attend the annual SA/VE remembrance ceremony put on by the organization. It is too hard to see all the pictures of lives lost.
May 2011 be a good year for all.
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Posted at Nov 4, 2010 1:15 am
Late this summer I found out my cholesterol was high, scary high. 281. I’m a healthy eater, I could stand to lose ten pounds but I did exercise two to three times a week. Unfortunately, my father had high cholesterol and died of a heart ache at 72. Darn those genetics.
Once I got over the shock and scheduled an appointment with an Internist, I started to research the problem.
Cholesterol is a waxy, fat-like substance made in the liver and found in foods from animals such as dairy products, eggs and meat. Our bodies need some cholesterol to function, but too much can cause a problem. When too much cholesterol is present, it may form plaque that adheres to the walls of the arteries leading to the heart. This build up causes atherosclerosis which can leave to heart disease.
What to do?
I started eating oatmeal for breakfast. Oatmeal is a full of soluble fiber which has been shown to lower LDL levels — LDL is the bad cholesterol. I also tried to have a glass a red wine at night.
By my first visit with the Internal Medicine physician, my total cholesterol had dropped to 267. The HDL – the good cholesterol still stayed on the high side at 69.
The initial reaction by the doctor was to put me on a statin to reduce my cholesterol. Unfortunately, once on a statin medication, I would be on it for the rest of my life.
The most common statin side effects include:
· headache
· difficulty sleeping
· flushing of the skin
· muscle aches, tenderness, or weakness
· drowsiness/ weakness
· dizziness
· nausea and/or vomiting
· abdominal cramping and/or pain
· bloating and/or gas
· diarrhea
· constipation
· rash
So my doctor and I agreed on a three month trial. Instead of drugs, there are three facets to the changes I am making in my life.
1. High fiber diet 20 to 25 grams of fiber each day
2. 30 minutes of exercise each day
3. Lose ten pounds
My doctor suggested using the website www.sparkpeople.com. I’m loving this website. It helps me track everything I eat and my exercise and tracks fiber content also.
So – knowing that a goal needs to be written down, measurable, specific and achievable, I am going to blog about my journey to lower my cholesterol through behavior and diet modification.
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Posted at Oct 1, 2010 3:03 pm
It’s amazing what you can find on the internet. This was on a friend’s Wall on Facebook. Apparently this list has been attributed to Bill Gates since 2000 – but it was originally written by Charles J Sykes as an op-ed piece — 50 Rules Kids Won’t Learn in School. (Pays to research before you publish) The rules resonated with me today.
How many years does it take for people to understand these basic principles of life?
I think all politicians need to memorize these 11 rules.
Charles J Sykes: Rules your kids did not and will not learn in school
Rule 1: Life is not fair – get used to it!
Rule 2: The world doesn’t care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.
Rule 3: You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You won’t be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both.
Rule 4: If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss.
Rule 5: Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your Grandparents had a different word for burger flipping: they called it opportunity.
Rule 6: If you mess up, it’s not your parents’ fault, so don’t whine about your mistakes, learn from them.
Rule 7: Before you were born, your parents weren’t as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parent’s generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.
Rule 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life HAS NOT. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and they’ll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer. This doesn’t bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.
Rule 9: Life is not divided into semesters. You don’t get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF. Do that on your own time.
Rule 10: Television is NOT real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.
Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are you’ll end up working for one.
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Posted at Aug 12, 2010 3:18 pm
I wasn’t always an aspiring writer. Until my second year of college I was an aspiring actress. Burned out from the grind of performing in 50 productions, I turned my sights to business, specifically accounting. I climbed the corporate ladder in a railroad, group medical practice and a pharmaceutical company, and attained the top of the Finance positions — VP and CFO. I was used to working 60 to 70 hours a week, surviving on minimal sleep and juggling all the balls in my life with a husband and 5 kids. When the last company I worked for was purchased, and it gave me the chance to do what I was passionate about – Write.
For most of my life I’ve been a closet writer. Commuting hours were spent developing plots. For years, I never told my family why I kept my laptop next to my bed. I actually dictated an entire book while commuting and could barely keep up with the transcribing.
I learned a lot in the corporate structure that has helped me pour my passion in writing. I thought I would share some of my thoughts today.
Make a plan
- Define your long-term goal
For me the ultimate goal is publication. Once you know your goal, you need to define the steps or short-terms goals in order to actualize your goal. You can either work forwards or backwards. Let’s work forwards.
- Complete your manuscript
- Make it shine
Completing the manuscript was never a problem for me. I have almost ten first drafts sitting around. (The head-hopping in the first books makes my heart ache.) I also spend one week a month on new WIPs through Book-in-a-Week . The remainder of the month I revise and edit completed manuscripts.
Making my books shine is a problem. So I took local writing classes and joined MFW – my local RWA chapter. I take on-line courses. My bookshelves hold half-read craft books. (Come on – you think their boring too.) I’ve found great critique partners who have helped hone my craft. I think they like to read craft books more than I do!
I am a contest junkie. I’ve gotten great – and not so great – feedback from contest judges. If I agree with the comments, I make changes.
- Take Risks — Expose yourself to possible rejection
Initially, I only submitted partials when requested through a contest. Now, with the 2010 Golden Heart Finalist in my credentials, I’ve begun querying both agents and editors.
I also submit to on-line or conference critiques. This netted me a manuscript request through the Golden Network Retreat. You just never know when the door to opportunity will open.
- Make a professional impression
Dress for success and work the conferences. I’m an outgoing person, but sometimes I love anonymity. You can’t fade into the crowd at conferences. You are working. In Orlando, I introduced myself to every person who had a partial or full manuscript in their offices. Hopefully, I made a positive impression.
- Writing is a business – suck it up
Rejection isn’t fun, but it is part of our world. Don’t let it get you down. They are not rejecting you as a person – just your book. As much as it hurts, you need to have really thick skin. Everyone will not like your writing style, or plot or characters. You need to find that one person who can be your advocate.
I visualize myself one day standing at a podium holding up a stack of rejections and saying “I got published. You can to.”
Writing isn’t easy. It’s a job and one that I sit down to 7 days a week. I keep a spreadsheet (yes – number crunching is in my blood) to track how much time I really spend writing. This does not include checking email or the loops.
In both business and writing, putting in the hours to learn your craft, polish and be professional should pay off. I’m hoping so at least!
What life lessons have helped you with your writing career?
Originally published at Ruby Slippered Sisterhood Blog
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Posted at Jul 13, 2010 9:28 pm
What an incredible debut novel. Susan Sey delivers a fast-paced tale that kept me turning the pages. When I was done, I greedily read the teaser of her second book Money Shot and can’t wait for Goose’s story.
I fell in love with Patrick, the gorgeous, flawed thief. He’s a fallen angel and you’re never exactly sure he’s reformed. Liz the hard-working, formidable FBI agent grudgingly agrees to work with him on a counterfeiting case, but she refused to follow his agenda. Patrick wants her in bed.
Until they can show each other their weaknesses, they won’t be whole.
She looked up at him, and he realized he’d miscalculated, badly. Because her eyes weren’t snapping with temper, as he’d intended. Instead they were a dark, serious blue, and he fell helplessly into them. He didn’t move, couldn’t move, as she reached with slow, deliberate intent and threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. She laid her lips against his with a sweetness that all but shattered his heart. It certainly cracked his control.
When she drew back, he tried to breathe again but found that his lungs had gone temporarily off the job. He stared at her. God how did she do that? Make each kiss an unexpected revelation.
Sey’s imagery is elegant and her pacing, faultless. I’ll be first in line when the second book hits the bookstore.
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Posted at Jul 9, 2010 4:12 pm
It’s not hard to see why this book won so many awards. In her debut novel, Lisa Genova thrills and horrifies us with her tale of a brilliant 50-year woman diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s.
Alice is in the prime of her life, a Harvard professor of psycholinquistics. Even her exalted position in academia cannot keep her from falling prey to a disease that has no cure. From diagnosis to the time when Alice can no longer identify her children is too short. I cringed when she developed labels for the people in her life. It is heartbreaking to read Alice identify her daughters as ‘the mother’ and ‘the actress’ and her husband as the ‘nice man who saved her’. I shed tears as this vibrant woman lost her memories and her ability to function in our fast paced world.
Ms. Genova portrays the fear and confusion of the Alzheimer patient as if she had experienced these symptoms. As a reader you feel the terror of being lost, of not being able to comprehend the words on the page, and the frustration of an unfulfilled suicide pact with her former self.
To lose the ability to read, converse and remember are terrifying to me. This is life at its essence.
I can’t wait for Ms. Genova next book on Attention Deficit Disorder coming in January 2011 from Pocket Books. Should be another gut-wrenching story.
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Posted at Jun 21, 2010 3:54 pm
One of the many things I love about writers’ conferences is the number of free books you receive. Through these piles of books, I’ve discovered authors and genres I wouldn’t pick up walking through a bookstore. The authors hook me on their storytelling and then I buy their backlist. What do you know – free books work to build an audience! Buying the backlist is even easier now that I have my Nook. I love the fact that I can purchase books that are out of print and the author will still get a royalty. I no longer have to buy the backlists through second hand bookstores.
To my delight, the 2010 WisRWA conference goodie bag included Christina Dodd’s Some Enchanted Evening. I’ve read the book, more than once, but couldn’t wait for a new introduction to the lost princesses.
I’m thrilled to say, the magic hasn’t worn off. I keep trying to read books as an author, analyzing each plot twist and motivation. Unfortunately, I become too engrossed in the story. Although I can now identify the sub-plots before Clarice, one of the lost princesses of Beaumontagne, does, I still love going through her discovery. Clarice, surviving exile through her wits, knows she should stay away from the hero, but she can’t.
The hero, Robert MacKenzie, the Earl of Hepburn, is a wonderfully complicated alpha male intent on justice. As with most men, his focus hasn’t allowed him to see beyond his goal. He doesn’t notice what is happening in his own family. Princess Clarice opens his eyes and his heart and helps him achieve justice.
An added joy are the quotes at the beginning of each chapter — little tidbits of wisdom from the old men of Freya Crags or the Dowager Queen of Beaumontagne.
I can’t wait to find the next two books, buried somewhere on my library shelves, and follow Princesses Amy and Sorcha’s journeys.
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