If you're a serious writer, querying agents is not an easy or pleasant task. I've spent my day pouring over websites, checklists, articles, writer's market guides and applicable blogs in order to research which agents are THE MOST appropriate fit for my work. How many queries have I sent out as a result?
One. I've sent out one, single, lonely query.
It turns out that I'm stuck on one literary agency. There are two, count 'em two agents employed at this agency who seem equally fit for paranormal/magic realism fiction. It's bad business to query more than one agent with the same agency. So, hoping to get a leg up on one or the other, I read their bios...no big eye-opener there. I proceeded to Google where I found several short articles about each of them. I couldn't tell weather I would be better suited with one or the other. They both seem like lovely people. How can you choose?
The final step in my research plan was to go to sites like Predators and Editors to see if anyone had a negative experience with these two individuals.
Nothing...
So, I got down and dirty and desperate. I consulted the magic 8 ball.
First, I asked the magic 8 ball, "Should I choose Agent 'A'?"
A: Ask again later
Crap!
Then, I asked the magic 8 ball, "Should I choose Agent 'B'?"
A: Maybe
Double crap!!
With my jaw firmly affixed in grinding position, I got up from my office chair and took a shower. Twenty minutes later, I returned with my wet hair wrapped in a towel and assumed the position yet again.
Should I choose Agent 'A'?"
A: Ask again later.
Urrrrgh!
Should I choose Agent 'B'?"
A: No.
I guess that narrows it down...sorta'...maybe...kinda'...damn it!
Breaking away from the eye-crossing blur of indecisiveness, I thought that perhaps a blog entry would help. Another day, another single, lonely query.
An excellent resource for all you hopeful authors out there
Monday, November 29, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
Every Club Has It's Hazing
Everybody knows that when you decide to pledge a fraternity, club or member establishment, they must first go through the initiation process, which in and of itself is a daunting prospect. Add to that the likelihood that you will be subjected to some sort of hazing ritual before you are considered "one of them".
Being a writer is no different.
Anybody can apply to this fraternity, but the initiation process is a deadly gauntlet compared to most. I plunged headlong into the writing world with vigor and superhuman determination (maybe even a healthy dose of naivety.) I prepared myself for the hazing ahead. Hazing is intended to weed out the weakest of the links; to punish, demoralize and humiliate the halfhearted majority.
I refuse to be placed in that category.
I'm writing this because I just received my first formal rejection letter.
Remember in my last post, I mentioned that an agent asked for the first 50 pages of Wallflower? I just got word that she has rejected my manuscript.
No, a rejection is no surprise to me, and in no way do I plan on throwing in the towel. It's just that my dreamy, romantic side is sorely disappointed. Somewhere in the back of my creative mind, I daydreamed about being swooped up on my very first attempt. How awesome would that be? I know it was a silly notion, but hey, I wouldn't be a writer if I didn't dream.
So I've been hazed. It's official, I'm a member of the club. I'm sure I'll get a few more paddles before I reap any rewards. There's lots of agents out there. I guess I've got some work to do!
More later.
Being a writer is no different.
Anybody can apply to this fraternity, but the initiation process is a deadly gauntlet compared to most. I plunged headlong into the writing world with vigor and superhuman determination (maybe even a healthy dose of naivety.) I prepared myself for the hazing ahead. Hazing is intended to weed out the weakest of the links; to punish, demoralize and humiliate the halfhearted majority.
I refuse to be placed in that category.
I'm writing this because I just received my first formal rejection letter.
Remember in my last post, I mentioned that an agent asked for the first 50 pages of Wallflower? I just got word that she has rejected my manuscript.
No, a rejection is no surprise to me, and in no way do I plan on throwing in the towel. It's just that my dreamy, romantic side is sorely disappointed. Somewhere in the back of my creative mind, I daydreamed about being swooped up on my very first attempt. How awesome would that be? I know it was a silly notion, but hey, I wouldn't be a writer if I didn't dream.
So I've been hazed. It's official, I'm a member of the club. I'm sure I'll get a few more paddles before I reap any rewards. There's lots of agents out there. I guess I've got some work to do!
More later.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Flabbergasted-verb-to overcome with surprise and bewilderment; astound.
I have oh so much to update you on. No, I have not been neglecting my blog. I have been swept up in the rapid current that is my life at the moment. Gee, where do I begin? Allow me to paraphrase:
1.) I came up with a new story idea that has grown and expanded so much that it will now surpass all my previous story ideas to become my next project.
2.) I sent off query letters to 2 of the 3 agents I mentioned before.
3.) I received a response from one of those agents two days later. She's requested the first fifty pages of my manuscript!!
Whew!!
I'll start with dessert first; #3. For fear of retribution, I will not use the agent's real name. We'll call her "Agent A". I met Agent A at the Willamette writer's conference last August. After participating in one of her audience-involved exercises, she was impressed with my pitch and permitted me to send a query.
I must say, it was harder to send off a query than I anticipated. I prepared the query as close to perfection as I could. I pulled up Agent A's email address and attached the query. Being the thorough perfectionist that I am, I read the letter over again....and again. I moved the cursor over the send button and froze.
My chest tightened. I began Lamaze breathing. Even in the November chill of my house, bullets of sweat colonized on my brow. There is no "unsending" this, Jennifer. I warned myself. Are you sure - are you certain that this is absolutely perfect?
I blew out a short breath and licked my lips, finding them as dry as a Savannah creek bed in the summer. You have one chance; one chance to impress. Don't make an ass out of yourself. Don't look like an idiot.
Reading it once more for good measure, I willed my stubborn index finger to do what it was told.
*Click*
The insignificant sound resonated in my ears. It was gone. It was done; surfing the internet waves to it's destination. Out of my hands. Out of my control.
What was next?
Waiting....waiting....waiting.
I fully expected to wait weeks or even months before receiving that cold and lifeless rejection letter. I was prepared to play the waiting game and roll with the rejection punches. Still I checked my email a few times each day with the same expectant breathlessness that one experiences when checking the latest winning lottery numbers; half of me expecting to find nothing but spam and half with the childlike hope of what Santa Claus might bring.
A mere two days later, there it was. The sender was the same person I'd sent the query off to. I stared at the subject line, trying to decipher if the email I'd sent had somehow been returned to me as undeliverable (Heaven forbid).
No, It was FROM Agent A. I opened it, though I don't remember opening it.
1.) I came up with a new story idea that has grown and expanded so much that it will now surpass all my previous story ideas to become my next project.
2.) I sent off query letters to 2 of the 3 agents I mentioned before.
3.) I received a response from one of those agents two days later. She's requested the first fifty pages of my manuscript!!
Whew!!
I'll start with dessert first; #3. For fear of retribution, I will not use the agent's real name. We'll call her "Agent A". I met Agent A at the Willamette writer's conference last August. After participating in one of her audience-involved exercises, she was impressed with my pitch and permitted me to send a query.
I must say, it was harder to send off a query than I anticipated. I prepared the query as close to perfection as I could. I pulled up Agent A's email address and attached the query. Being the thorough perfectionist that I am, I read the letter over again....and again. I moved the cursor over the send button and froze.
My chest tightened. I began Lamaze breathing. Even in the November chill of my house, bullets of sweat colonized on my brow. There is no "unsending" this, Jennifer. I warned myself. Are you sure - are you certain that this is absolutely perfect?
I blew out a short breath and licked my lips, finding them as dry as a Savannah creek bed in the summer. You have one chance; one chance to impress. Don't make an ass out of yourself. Don't look like an idiot.
Reading it once more for good measure, I willed my stubborn index finger to do what it was told.
*Click*
The insignificant sound resonated in my ears. It was gone. It was done; surfing the internet waves to it's destination. Out of my hands. Out of my control.
What was next?
Waiting....waiting....waiting.
I fully expected to wait weeks or even months before receiving that cold and lifeless rejection letter. I was prepared to play the waiting game and roll with the rejection punches. Still I checked my email a few times each day with the same expectant breathlessness that one experiences when checking the latest winning lottery numbers; half of me expecting to find nothing but spam and half with the childlike hope of what Santa Claus might bring.
A mere two days later, there it was. The sender was the same person I'd sent the query off to. I stared at the subject line, trying to decipher if the email I'd sent had somehow been returned to me as undeliverable (Heaven forbid).
No, It was FROM Agent A. I opened it, though I don't remember opening it.
Dear Ms. Fields,
I would be interested in reading a few chapters of your story. Please send the first fifty pages as a response to this message, putting the text directly into the body of the email.
A smile took over my face, stretching until it hurt, but I hadn't taken a breath yet.
Below the simple correspondence, was a signature that said, This agent is NO LONGER ACCEPTING unsolicited query letters. Unless you have been referred by one of our authors, an agent or publisher, please check our website for another appropriate agent.
Do you know what that means?? That means that I got my foot in the door. Thanks to the conference I attended, I was able to query an agent that is otherwise untouchable to the general writing public...and she wants to see more.
Thankfully, I do not have heart problems or I may have dropped dead right there at my computer desk (which is probably where I'll die anyway.)
She wants to see more.
She wants to see more.
Two measly days later, she wants to see more. Not weeks or months later; two days!
Cloud nine doesn't cut it. I have surpassed cloud nine for rocketship nine and I'm well on my way to the moon.
Don't get me wrong. I understand that this is a small victory in the quest for representation, but I was fully prepared to rewallpaper my house with rejection letters before I ever received a smidgen of hope or a positive response. I braced myself for the cruel, heartless literary world. To receive a request for more on my first try is astounding.
Even if Agent A gets back to me in another two days with a rubber stamped rejection letter, I can relax in the fact that I did so well right out of the gate. There is hope. My work at least intrigues people.
Imagine, if you will, what will happen if Agent A's response is NOT a rejection....
In the midst of this glorious turmoil, I have come up with my next project. Over the last four years, I've kept a safety deposit box of sorts, filled with future story ideas written in quick summaries so that I might never forget them. There are 17 novels waiting there for my creation and they're all perfectly intriguing.
The other day I was telling my husband that since the writing bug bit me, my ultimate dream has been to create my own Oz; my own Wonderland. I wanted a place of my own where I was not limited by the confines of this planet and the lifeforms on it.
No folks, I'm not talking about your run-of-the-mill fantasy or sci-fi novel. Many times those novels have characters whose names you can't pronounce. They take place on other mysterious planets, and they utilize variations of plants and animals that are derived from earthly examples, (i.e. talking trees, unicorns and other tired cliche's.)
I came up with my Wonderland. As of this moment, I'm calling it "The Swamplands", but I may change it to "Tinker Swamp." It's a YA novel about kids getting trapped in a parallel universe. Kids have been disappearing from this small Michigan town for over forty years. The townsfolk believe that Old Man Helvig (aka The Tinkerman) is using kids for his crazy science experiments and murdering them. Helvig has joined the group of six boys in this strange land. When brainy Johanna and her friend Virginia get trapped in 1947, Johanna joins forces with The Tinkerman to find a way back home. They don't realize that they are not alone in this world. Besides the strange and dangerous creatures that roam the swamp, there are those that will do anything to keep the gateway closed.
I smell a book series. Move over Harry Potter! Here I come. :)
More later
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Milestone
ATTENTION WORLD:
"Wallflower" edits are done!!! I have completed my final edits and I am prepared to send my precious little story out into the big, bad beyond. "Fly. Be free!" I say as I nudge my little story out of the nest.
Too much? Over the top?
Perhaps, but it's a huge milestone for me. For those of you following along, we've reached a culmination of sorts in this blog. I have three agents that are expecting the first 50 pages of this book. That's my next goal, but I had to share my joy with you today.
"Wallflower" is not my favorite work, but it is the nearest and dearest to my heart. Out of all of my works, I believe "Wallflower" to be the roundest, fullest and most complete of my novels. I love the characters and everything about the storyline. I hope that the agents feel the same way.
Now I'm fantasizing about a bidding war. In my daydreams, I can see two or more agents fighting to represent my work. Oh how they will vie for my affections, sending the literary equivalent of flowers, candy and obnoxious singing telegrams. In the grand tradition of Scarlett O'hara, I shall fan myself and bat my eyelashes saying, "Boys, boys! Don't fight over 'lil old me. Fiddle-dee-dee."
Ahhh, this is the sigh of the contented writer.
More later...
"Wallflower" edits are done!!! I have completed my final edits and I am prepared to send my precious little story out into the big, bad beyond. "Fly. Be free!" I say as I nudge my little story out of the nest.
Too much? Over the top?
Perhaps, but it's a huge milestone for me. For those of you following along, we've reached a culmination of sorts in this blog. I have three agents that are expecting the first 50 pages of this book. That's my next goal, but I had to share my joy with you today.
"Wallflower" is not my favorite work, but it is the nearest and dearest to my heart. Out of all of my works, I believe "Wallflower" to be the roundest, fullest and most complete of my novels. I love the characters and everything about the storyline. I hope that the agents feel the same way.
Now I'm fantasizing about a bidding war. In my daydreams, I can see two or more agents fighting to represent my work. Oh how they will vie for my affections, sending the literary equivalent of flowers, candy and obnoxious singing telegrams. In the grand tradition of Scarlett O'hara, I shall fan myself and bat my eyelashes saying, "Boys, boys! Don't fight over 'lil old me. Fiddle-dee-dee."
Ahhh, this is the sigh of the contented writer.
More later...
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