The sun is back out. America's midterm elections are over. My friend V ... well. Losing her is awful, it's cruel. But she is not hurting now. Doctors can't use her body to experiment now. And those who love her - I am humbled they embrace me. Her husband, her family, her beloved friends: beautiful, beautiful, wonderful people.
This time has been hard. Like so many families, the remains of our nuclear unit - just me, mom, and my brother now - endure terrible political strain in these times. But, just for this morning, it's virtual hugs and three courses of "I love you." Because these strains have everyday, real consequences - this has, in some ways, been even harder than watching my lifelong friend die. Or, perhaps, it only got in the way of comprehending and mourning. I only know this has been the hardest thing to bear, over this past week.
We are all enduring a confluence. My brother is traveling to the memorial of a friend of his, and beautiful V's will be remembered on Saturday. As her kids do this, my mom is now watching her own oldest friend in town "giving back", as some say in the South. It may be we all suffer the loss of our dear Deebo, my stepfather - and each of our dear friends.
The light of inspiration peeked out not too long ago - unsurprisingly, after The Conference, but also very much under the influence of other friendships. Leila, especially, uniquely lights my creative way. She and I have so much in common, but we write such different works, and about the time I did a recent beta-read for her, I also happened to find the ENDING for a short work we began an embarrassing number of years ago in our writing group. It's been drafted two different ways, I let it settle in a certain direction, and for now it is sitting quietly, resting, rising, awaiting both her feedback and my final attentions.
Writing. Feels. So. Good.
There truly is nothing else like writing.
And so, with voting done and the sun out and my family whole ... I open up the WIP, the big dog, the "real" work. The novel. Just open it. I shall scroll about in it, find something to alight upon, and read a little bit.
Research feels like a good way to go. I fear it may have to be, at long last, the pogrom. (Yes, now, of all moments.)
Sometimes, the way writing feels "good" is different from other times. It's not always pleasure.
Sometimes, it's memorial.
Showing posts with label JRW. Show all posts
Showing posts with label JRW. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 7, 2018
Wednesday, October 25, 2017
Take the Con 17
Two weeks ago, I was in Savannah for work. On Thursday, the 12th, I was home before midnight with nearly a thousand miles on my car ... and Saturday the 14th kicked off the annual James River Writers conference.
In the past, I've often done postmorten posts about how inspired I was and re-energized as a writer, after the conference. Well, or just gushed in real time about how amazing the events are. In the fifteen years of JRW's excellence, I've attended for fourteen of the annual conferences. (Thanks again, Mojourner!) I've watched friends chair the event itself, and met countless others. It's always inspiring.
But this year, I was so focused for so long on the meeting immediately preceding the Conference, I spared no time to get excited about it. (I was actually excited about the meeting - there was toy shopping.) For a while there, I also wasn't sure I'd be able to go to the Conference this year at all, and studiously tamped down any thinking about it.
Not only did I coordinate the meeting in Savannah, but I presented there. Speaking up in class, as it were, has never scared me - but speaking before the class was nerve-wracking. And once my nerves got bored, I finished off okay, and it was okay. I handed out little dart boards with my picture on them to people to whom it is generally my job to give bad news. I got to know a lot of people I work with constantly, but rarely or never have seen before. Feedback has been that the meeting was good. Travel was too (no flying!). I spent Friday in a dim drizzle with my mom, coming down off the big event, and NOT really thinking about or getting ready for the next one.
Coming into the Conference without expectations can be a good thing. I've long since put The Ax and the Vase to bed, and the WIP isn't even advanced enough to have announced to me what its TITLE is, so meeting with agents was off my list (and, in any case, I'm ever more persuaded by Janet Reid's objection to conference pitches - and, in any case, it's rarely the case participating agents even "do my genre" as it were).
The rub is, it's also been a long time since I spent time writing.
So I attended the "so you think you're an impostor - no you're not" session ... and, of course, came away feeling all validated but still knowing for sure I am an impostor.
And I spent $72 at the JRW Bookstore before 8:30 a.m. on day one.
And I talked to my new friend Sarah a lot, a writer who is eighteen years old and better organized (and more motivated) than I am, at damn near fifty.
And I spend time with my good writing friends, and Leila Gaskin said she would read some scenes for me and look to the knotty problem of whether I need all my characters ... and, if so (oh, I so need my characters!!!!), how to balance them ...
... and I finished the weekend more excited about the fact that the Festival of India had coincided with our event than about the Conference.
It was when I began drafting my email to Leila, and my very first writing partner, The Elfin One, and choosing scenes to share toward that question of characters and balance ...
... that it finally happened.
My ass was in the chair, and I sent off the scenes dutifully - and, writing to TEO in particular about writing ... I wrote.
"Also, I'm a Writer."
In the past, I've often done postmorten posts about how inspired I was and re-energized as a writer, after the conference. Well, or just gushed in real time about how amazing the events are. In the fifteen years of JRW's excellence, I've attended for fourteen of the annual conferences. (Thanks again, Mojourner!) I've watched friends chair the event itself, and met countless others. It's always inspiring.
But this year, I was so focused for so long on the meeting immediately preceding the Conference, I spared no time to get excited about it. (I was actually excited about the meeting - there was toy shopping.) For a while there, I also wasn't sure I'd be able to go to the Conference this year at all, and studiously tamped down any thinking about it.
Not only did I coordinate the meeting in Savannah, but I presented there. Speaking up in class, as it were, has never scared me - but speaking before the class was nerve-wracking. And once my nerves got bored, I finished off okay, and it was okay. I handed out little dart boards with my picture on them to people to whom it is generally my job to give bad news. I got to know a lot of people I work with constantly, but rarely or never have seen before. Feedback has been that the meeting was good. Travel was too (no flying!). I spent Friday in a dim drizzle with my mom, coming down off the big event, and NOT really thinking about or getting ready for the next one.
Coming into the Conference without expectations can be a good thing. I've long since put The Ax and the Vase to bed, and the WIP isn't even advanced enough to have announced to me what its TITLE is, so meeting with agents was off my list (and, in any case, I'm ever more persuaded by Janet Reid's objection to conference pitches - and, in any case, it's rarely the case participating agents even "do my genre" as it were).
The rub is, it's also been a long time since I spent time writing.
So I attended the "so you think you're an impostor - no you're not" session ... and, of course, came away feeling all validated but still knowing for sure I am an impostor.
And I spent $72 at the JRW Bookstore before 8:30 a.m. on day one.
And I talked to my new friend Sarah a lot, a writer who is eighteen years old and better organized (and more motivated) than I am, at damn near fifty.
And I spend time with my good writing friends, and Leila Gaskin said she would read some scenes for me and look to the knotty problem of whether I need all my characters ... and, if so (oh, I so need my characters!!!!), how to balance them ...
... and I finished the weekend more excited about the fact that the Festival of India had coincided with our event than about the Conference.
It was when I began drafting my email to Leila, and my very first writing partner, The Elfin One, and choosing scenes to share toward that question of characters and balance ...
... that it finally happened.
My ass was in the chair, and I sent off the scenes dutifully - and, writing to TEO in particular about writing ... I wrote.
"Also, I'm a Writer."
Saturday, October 15, 2016
Ego Tripping - Nikki Giovanni
Today, I did not want to make the moment I shook her hand about myself. So instead of telling Nikki Giovanni how she had affected me, I said only thank you.
But the first time I ever read Ego Tripping is still indelible, powerful in my experience. You don't forget moments that change you, that elevate your perspective.
I hope it is forgivable, permissible, for me to reprint her work. It is too important to just hope you will click somewhere and read. And so ...
The line that captured me a generation ago, and holds me to this day is "I am so hip even my errors are correct" ...
As I grow older, though, it is "I cannot be comprehended except by my permission" that comes to mean more and more.
What gets you, in this piece?
Or in any other poem?
But the first time I ever read Ego Tripping is still indelible, powerful in my experience. You don't forget moments that change you, that elevate your perspective.
I hope it is forgivable, permissible, for me to reprint her work. It is too important to just hope you will click somewhere and read. And so ...
I was born in the Congo
I walked to the Fertile Crescent and built
The Sphinx
I designed a pyramid so tough that a star
That only glows every one hundred years falls
Into the center giving divine perfect light
I am bad
I sat on the throne
Drinking nectar with Allah
I got hot and sent an ice age to Europe
To cool my thirst
My oldest daughter is Nefertiti
The tears from my birth pains
Created the Nile
I am a beautiful woman
I gazed on the forest and burned
Out the Sahara desert
With a packet of goat's meat
And a change of clothes
I crossed it in two hours
I am a gazelle so swift
So swift you can't catch me
For a birthday present when he was three
I gave my son Hannibal an elephant
He gave me Rome for mother's day
My strength flows ever on
My son Noah built New/Ark and
I stood proudly at the helm
As we sailed on a soft summer day
I turned myself into myself and was
Jesus
Men intone my loving name
All praises All praises
I am the one who would save
I sowed diamonds in my back yard
My bowels deliver uranium
The filings from my fingernails are
Semi-precious jewels
On a trip north
I caught a cold and blew
My nose giving oil to the Arab world
I am so hip even my errors are correct
I sailed west to reach east and had to round off
The earth as I went
The hair from my head thinned and gold was laid
Across three continents
I am so perfect so divine so ethereal so surreal
I cannot be comprehended except by my permission
I mean...I...can fly
Like a bird in the sky
The line that captured me a generation ago, and holds me to this day is "I am so hip even my errors are correct" ...
As I grow older, though, it is "I cannot be comprehended except by my permission" that comes to mean more and more.
What gets you, in this piece?
Or in any other poem?
Tuesday, March 15, 2016
The Most Incredible Pen I Ever Met
Life's too short not to use the good pen.
Being a writer, every now and then someone gives me A Nice Pen.
I have a whopper of a colorful mother-of-pearl pen that was my first "because you are a writer" pen, given by a friend several jobs ago when I had to leave that much-beloved employer. It weighs something on the order of a pound or so, and its diameter is enormous, but it's a great-writing instrument. I love it most because of its provenance, but it's a lovely thing just to look at and great for a flourishing signature.
My current job brought a boxed set my way, a pen and pencil set in graphite casing, just beautiful.
Another friend gave me a pen hand-lathed by her own son; a slender, curvaceous number I favor frequently because it is beautifully weighted. This pen goes with me everywhere, in whatever purse I happen to be carrying.
The James River Writers conference has been a source of good pens as well.
One of the best pens they've had in the swag bag for a couple or three years happens to come from a sponsor semi descended from, or step-related to, the employer I had to leave so regretfully at the time I received the MOP pen mentioned above. It gives me a wry smile, because those who've stayed on through this generation of that employer have not universally been thrilled with the evolution, but they are people I still respect immensely, and miss.
JRW is also a great source for some of the best cheap pens I've ever had. Another sponsor provides snappy little lightweights that also have a great curve appeal, and they often come in nice colors you can find in the drawer. Some of these have lasted as long as the ten-plus years for which I've been attending JRW events.
Easily the most astonishing pen, if we may call it such, is the highlighter with which I do my hard-copy research.
This is a highlighter.
It was bought in a set of four colors.
In 1982.
To steal a phrase from the most intense aunt in my family: I kid you not.
This highlighter was born in the age of pin-dot printing, when static was something we concerned ourselves with, or, at least, the marketing dudes of the day did. When this FONT was cool-oh and futuristic looking. It came with blue, green, and yellow companions - the yellow long since used up, the blue still gasping 35 years on, and the green perhaps lost in time.
The pink highlighter works. It's fresh as a daisy, and has that satisfyingly firm tip that feeds its ink with a waxy smoothness that is gratifyingly dependable.
I didn't save this beast for special occasions. For decades, it lived with my mom. She cleaned out a desk, decades *ago* now, and I inherited it, and its mates. There was little reason to use it, but no pressing reason to toss it, and the thing has aged quietly for all this time.
It's probably more than twice the age of my eighteen-year-old niece. It has outlasted countless personal computers, fashions, even automobiles. Five of those, in fact. Individually, it may have cost a quarter or so - perhaps more, if we splurged on a princely tool for modern computer highlighting work! - but investment-wise, is has outperformed any conceivable commodity in any market in any corner of, perhaps, the entire universe itself.
And it shows no sign of giving up. It doesn't even show its age, though the design is perhaps amusingly quaint.
Pink has, since my earliest research on The Ax and the Vase, been the color for highlighting research for the WIP. I found the subject of the WIP early on in working on Ax, and so I used pink to differentiate it from the drab old yellow I was using to work on reading for Ax.
I used this highlighter. There have been one or two other pink ones, in a pinch, but those (!!!) died. Quickly.
This workhorse, though, lives on. And on.
I have a silly and affectionate idea it may see me through work on the WIP, and finally give up its hardy ghost, fulfilled at long last, the methuselah pen, the ancient markiner, the oldest highlighter known to man.
If not, I plan to leave it to the younger niece - also a writer.
In the meantime, it is working for me. And I am, quietly, but consistently, amazed by the little thing. It has such ... life.
What is your best or most beloved or oddest pen?
Saturday, October 24, 2015
Take the Con, or: "Is My Sociopath Authentic?"
It is the quiet hour. The JRW conference is not over yet, but I left early; grocery shopping for the week, a bit of silence, the need to post this, and a nap were calling me. Just now, nervous folks are standing up before the bulk of attendees, pitching live and in person in front of everybody for Pitchapalooza. I've done this (twice), and I felt it was more important to leave than to stay, on balance, and let my Conference be over for this year.
***
That nap I mentioned has intervened, as did the balance of an eleven-day "work" week (well, I didn't get a weekend, with the Conference!) and even some research on the writing. It's now six days since the Conference ended, and ... hey, things got interesting too!
This year, #WeNeedDiverseBooks/#WNDB was a focus, and I asked Ellen Oh and the panel, "Is there a parallel movement amongst READERS, a #WeReadDiverseBooks hashtag?" They paused, laughed, pointed at me and said, "You are starting that!"
I was excited, but as it happens, #WeReadDiverseBooks is in fact already out there, created by Janet Ursel. Not surprising!
There was some fun with new friends and old, the above-linked exciting mystery of the first page whose author never stepped forward - I never got myself together this year to submit a first page of my own, DARNIT - and ideas, ideas, ideas. Ahh, inspiration.
And so I've been reading about wet nurses and trying to find a way to research what a Late Antiquity worship service might have been like in an Arian christian church. Man, that is not easy.
And so I have been finding writers and others on Twitter and blogs, and finding new followers in return.
And today? For the firs time in too long: I finally get to do a bit of housecleaning!
Happy Saturday to all, and to all a good day.
***
That nap I mentioned has intervened, as did the balance of an eleven-day "work" week (well, I didn't get a weekend, with the Conference!) and even some research on the writing. It's now six days since the Conference ended, and ... hey, things got interesting too!
This year, #WeNeedDiverseBooks/#WNDB was a focus, and I asked Ellen Oh and the panel, "Is there a parallel movement amongst READERS, a #WeReadDiverseBooks hashtag?" They paused, laughed, pointed at me and said, "You are starting that!"
I was excited, but as it happens, #WeReadDiverseBooks is in fact already out there, created by Janet Ursel. Not surprising!
There was some fun with new friends and old, the above-linked exciting mystery of the first page whose author never stepped forward - I never got myself together this year to submit a first page of my own, DARNIT - and ideas, ideas, ideas. Ahh, inspiration.
And so I've been reading about wet nurses and trying to find a way to research what a Late Antiquity worship service might have been like in an Arian christian church. Man, that is not easy.
And so I have been finding writers and others on Twitter and blogs, and finding new followers in return.
And today? For the firs time in too long: I finally get to do a bit of housecleaning!
Happy Saturday to all, and to all a good day.
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Coming Soon!
The JRW Conference will be this weekend, and as usual I have signed up for an agent one-on-one, but this year I think I will use the time not to pitch, but to discuss the retirement of AX and perhaps look toward a synopsis or query for the WIP. It is almost distressingly early to be thinking about querying the WIP, of course, but the agent I plan to meet with is far too good to resist; and, perhaps more than the forward-looking, as little good as it does to look backward, I'd like a professional opinion regarding my instincts about AX and letting it lie. If the chemistry isn't good for that conversation, maybe I can just smile and tell the agent she has seven minutes to herself, and let her go get some coffee.
The old saw applies now, as it does for everyone, as it does all the time, "I haven't been working on writing/research like I should." Ohh the Great Should; who doesn't have Should-shaped bite marks on their behind?
The good news, of course, is that JRW gets me excited about writing - always in ways I don't even see coming - every blessit year.
And I get excited about JRW, too. I study for it, I anticipate seeing my friends and making new ones, little literary lullabies croon inside my head, singing songs of inspiration. I brace my bank account for the BOOKS ... and getting them signed! Squee!
I look at the weather and plan my outfits (hooray, it will be cool this year - a first!) and re-read interviews with whatever agent I plan to meet with, as well as researching all of them, in case we chat through the course of the weekend. I see myself in that chair upstairs, a couple years back, where I rewrote my pitch and was so excited (and block out memories of READING said pitch at Pitchapalooza, which is exciting, but which I have done twice now and am done with).
Perhaps it all sounds like a bit of a do, too much fretting and folderol, but it's an enjoyable indulgence, for someone like me. Getting out to a conference can be stressful and scary for somewoodland creatures writers, but JRW is *mine*, and I love it and am grateful for it.
And so I contemplate what hairstyle *won't* be fussy, what sweater will look nice and be comfortable. What jewelry to wear, because my friends and I - a bunch of magpies - always gravitate to each other's sparklies. One doesn't want to be "too much" ... but you do want to garner the notice of pals attuned to your vintage yummy parure, or the boho seventies long, dangling pendant with just the right earrings. Pashminas are never so appreciated as they are by crowds of authorial Frowsy Women, and costume is never so much fun as when you are judging everyone else's of course!
So tonight I think, quietly, about how to ask what questions, and the smiles of those whose writing I love - and writing itself - and mine - and find: I am ready for bed.
The old saw applies now, as it does for everyone, as it does all the time, "I haven't been working on writing/research like I should." Ohh the Great Should; who doesn't have Should-shaped bite marks on their behind?
The good news, of course, is that JRW gets me excited about writing - always in ways I don't even see coming - every blessit year.
And I get excited about JRW, too. I study for it, I anticipate seeing my friends and making new ones, little literary lullabies croon inside my head, singing songs of inspiration. I brace my bank account for the BOOKS ... and getting them signed! Squee!
I look at the weather and plan my outfits (hooray, it will be cool this year - a first!) and re-read interviews with whatever agent I plan to meet with, as well as researching all of them, in case we chat through the course of the weekend. I see myself in that chair upstairs, a couple years back, where I rewrote my pitch and was so excited (and block out memories of READING said pitch at Pitchapalooza, which is exciting, but which I have done twice now and am done with).
Perhaps it all sounds like a bit of a do, too much fretting and folderol, but it's an enjoyable indulgence, for someone like me. Getting out to a conference can be stressful and scary for some
And so I contemplate what hairstyle *won't* be fussy, what sweater will look nice and be comfortable. What jewelry to wear, because my friends and I - a bunch of magpies - always gravitate to each other's sparklies. One doesn't want to be "too much" ... but you do want to garner the notice of pals attuned to your vintage yummy parure, or the boho seventies long, dangling pendant with just the right earrings. Pashminas are never so appreciated as they are by crowds of authorial Frowsy Women, and costume is never so much fun as when you are judging everyone else's of course!
So tonight I think, quietly, about how to ask what questions, and the smiles of those whose writing I love - and writing itself - and mine - and find: I am ready for bed.
Thursday, August 27, 2015
Be a 'Vert - We Need More 'Verts!
Talking with Cute Shoes recently, she was dreading some upcoming events and saying "I am such an introvert."
Knowing what a charming and successful woman CS is, and having been friends with her now for a few years, I was drawn up short at the assertion she is an introvert; I know few people who can better handle others, and I know too how confident she is in managing them when it is called for. But, thinking about it, I understood what she meant.
It's a bit like me and math. I was good at it as a student (current status - unknown), but good lordy did I hate it.
Social situations can be the same.
And, as much as some people who know me - and don't - will smirk at the idea, I am a default introvert myself.
Put me in a situation with people, I do well; I trained at the knee of my mother, a woman with the most remarkable *memory* for other people's lives I have ever seen, but also open and eager and extremely interested in making connections with others. And yet - at bottom, my mom is not actually confident. She is at times not unlike the nervous little girl I remember being; standing before the door of a friend's house, wanting them to come out and play, yet finding the doorbell suddenly overwhelming.
But take away other people, give me no daily schedule of discipline - office, errands, and so forth - and I'd scarcely ever leave my house.
My default operational status is "Sit. Stay." I quite love people. I even enjoy being sociable.
But, given no specific motivation to be among them? I will not be. I'll be home with Penelope and Gossamer.
Being "on" with others can be strangely physically exhausting. I come home from the Conference most years with a migraine, and a major area of stress for me with The Big Meeting recently was the need to be in the front of the room so much, even if I wasn't a speaker. To work with the hotel, to field questions and issues, to confer with executives on issues and practicalities.
Extroversion is exciting, it's rewarding. It can be fun, it can be surprising.
It's invariably exhausting, for some of us.
I'm not sure whether I can identify where on the spectrum of INTROVERT <---------------------> EXTROVERT I actually lie. Perhaps it varies; a sine wave of energy versus hermit-ly resting.
Are you more one than the other? Are you both, depending upon circumstances? Or are you both, but sometimes circumstances don't quite match your level of social energy as you wish it would ... ?
Knowing what a charming and successful woman CS is, and having been friends with her now for a few years, I was drawn up short at the assertion she is an introvert; I know few people who can better handle others, and I know too how confident she is in managing them when it is called for. But, thinking about it, I understood what she meant.
It's a bit like me and math. I was good at it as a student (current status - unknown), but good lordy did I hate it.
Social situations can be the same.
And, as much as some people who know me - and don't - will smirk at the idea, I am a default introvert myself.
Put me in a situation with people, I do well; I trained at the knee of my mother, a woman with the most remarkable *memory* for other people's lives I have ever seen, but also open and eager and extremely interested in making connections with others. And yet - at bottom, my mom is not actually confident. She is at times not unlike the nervous little girl I remember being; standing before the door of a friend's house, wanting them to come out and play, yet finding the doorbell suddenly overwhelming.
But take away other people, give me no daily schedule of discipline - office, errands, and so forth - and I'd scarcely ever leave my house.
My default operational status is "Sit. Stay." I quite love people. I even enjoy being sociable.
But, given no specific motivation to be among them? I will not be. I'll be home with Penelope and Gossamer.
Being "on" with others can be strangely physically exhausting. I come home from the Conference most years with a migraine, and a major area of stress for me with The Big Meeting recently was the need to be in the front of the room so much, even if I wasn't a speaker. To work with the hotel, to field questions and issues, to confer with executives on issues and practicalities.
Extroversion is exciting, it's rewarding. It can be fun, it can be surprising.
It's invariably exhausting, for some of us.
I'm not sure whether I can identify where on the spectrum of INTROVERT <---------------------> EXTROVERT I actually lie. Perhaps it varies; a sine wave of energy versus hermit-ly resting.
Are you more one than the other? Are you both, depending upon circumstances? Or are you both, but sometimes circumstances don't quite match your level of social energy as you wish it would ... ?
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Seven Slicin' Grammaw - and Other Stories
I wish she'd had a leather jacket with "Seven Slicin' Granny" on the back. She'd have preferred a soft cardigan, but she could have rocked that. As she rocked the skill of her almost-mythical pie slicing talent.
The Arrant Pedant frees us from yet more rules that only prove ... the language ain't what it used to be!
Leila Gaskin knows a little something about crit groups. And writing communities, at that! I'm grateful for both - which gave me the golden friend who is: Leila Gaskin. Parenthetically, it was that Mojourner guy who got me to my first JRW conference, all those years ago (I think it was only the second or third one). So we can thank/blame him when Ax finally gets out into the world. But we can blame/thank Leila, too - she's a most motivating Broad.
The Arrant Pedant frees us from yet more rules that only prove ... the language ain't what it used to be!
Leila Gaskin knows a little something about crit groups. And writing communities, at that! I'm grateful for both - which gave me the golden friend who is: Leila Gaskin. Parenthetically, it was that Mojourner guy who got me to my first JRW conference, all those years ago (I think it was only the second or third one). So we can thank/blame him when Ax finally gets out into the world. But we can blame/thank Leila, too - she's a most motivating Broad.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Video Sunday #2: James River Writers!
This is my favorite conference of the year, every year. JRW is my community. These are my friends.
I'm so grateful! I'm so proud.
I'm so grateful! I'm so proud.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Pitchery
Thinking about The Query Shark’s posts on pitch sessions, and my own experiences both with these and with Pitchapalooza, I’ve been ruminating on how useful they are. The thing is, I’ve had 100% success with in-person pitches – with “success” defined as “agent asks for partial or full” (and fulls are more frequent as electronic delivery improves; as Victoria Skurnick said to me, and part of the reason I asked her for an interview to be published here, “Why ask for a partial, it’s all the same by email”). There was a time when a full request was a HUGE deal, but either out of my own experience or because technology has changed so much in the industry, even down to these preliminary events, it seems less earth-shaking now than once it did.
As for pitch sessions, part of Janet Reid’s objection is the nervousness and the novice state of so many of the writers she sees during sessions. Much as I’m little burdened with preciousness about the killing off of my darlings, I was fortunate to have parents who very consciously and explicitly raised me and my brother to be able to talk to people in any walk of life. Now, for me and my brother, this does NOTHING to actually eliminate nervousness, *but* it does manage the thing – and, frankly, there’s not much interest in a life into which a little nervousness never falls. Nervousness is close kin to excitement – and, if you’re excited about what you have written, as far as a pitch session goes, that can bring you halfway “there” so to speak.
I pay attention to how I plan to pitch, but I’m not scripted beyond those points about Clovis’ story I personally found so compelling I needed to write it, and which I know make the strongest selling points both literarily and in the market. Now, if I were blessed to attend conferences more regularly or closely dealing with my particular GENRE, maybe I’d have been agented years ago just off an in-person – but, as much as I love JRW, and as widely worthwhile as I find The Ax and the Vase to be … you may be astonished to learn that, apparently, the trade in ancient Frankish kings is not brisk in fiction currently.
(That’s not to say that the market is not good, but it does speak to Clovis’ relative obscurity next to the ubiquitous Tudors, Rome, and even the odd Plantagenet in histfic alone – and histfic is only one area out of many, when it comes to conference-planning for maximum impact. Take a look at the fascinating data produced recently by a historical fiction survey; even keeping in mind that this was created by sampling a necessarily skewed sample, the results are interesting and even encouraging.)
I keep getting off discussion of pitching. One has to be careful, you can do that in a 5-minute session, and POOF it’s all over then.
Another objection Reid has is that the five-minute pre set meeting is all an author gets, at a conference. This is where my love of JRW forces me to point out that – SOME conferences invite participants/agents/marquee speakers/editors to come AND TO BE THERE THE WHOLE TIME. Buttonholing agents in the hall is not merely encouraged, but built into the experience. So, at JRW – yes, they have pitch sessions (as Reid points out, to omit them might cause riots from writers who expect them), but there is also the opportunity to pitch impromptu … and just to have LUNCH with people. This past conference, I reacquainted myself briefly with Paige Wheeler, the first agent to ever request a partial from me (I need to re-query her ASAP!), and formally pitched both Victoria Skurnick and Deborah Grosvenor, who was incredibly generous in fitting me in at the end of an extraordinarly long day, and even got to just sit and relax for a while at a table off on its own slightly apart from the center of activity, talking cello music and mezzuzahs with Ms. Skurnick, who was so painfully delightful I asked for the interview then and there (and she was enthusiastic and lovely in saying yes, I’d love to).
So, clearly, I would number among those authors whose reaction to Janet Reid’s condemnation of these sessions would be resistant, to say the least. But then, I’m among those lucky twits whose reaction to nervousness itself seems to be manageable and productive – and I am also smug enough to say to myself, an author who wants to sell a book needs to be able to sell her or himself, so for pete’s sake, pitch sessions are just part of that education we need in order not only to improve our pitches and queries themselves, but to participate in the larger world I am trying to become part of, that of Published Author.
Who the HELL put that soapox there, and how did I trip on it … ?
Um. So – yeah, I kind of like pitch sessions. I like being surrounded by friends old and new, sharing these tiny and painful short works, getting feedback, rehearsing, improving them. Conferences have borne, for me, some of the best marketing work I’ve been able to produce in support of Ax itself. And, nervous or not, I’ve never been to one where EVERYONE was not completely supportive, no matter the context. And the agents are not the least of this. I’ve learned, even those who don’t “do” my genre are generally delightful people, and at times there’ve been those it just hurts me to know don’t work in my area. (Michelle Brower, I’m looking at you.)
Just thinking about all this makes me want to get a-querying and impress the pants off of those I’ve met – and Janet Reid herself (are you kidding me? Love Query Shark like I do, and NOT take a chance? No way – now that she’s open for queries again, she’s on the list, of course she is). And so I must away, and get cracking.
Even if I can’t vomit on anyone’s shoes.
As for pitch sessions, part of Janet Reid’s objection is the nervousness and the novice state of so many of the writers she sees during sessions. Much as I’m little burdened with preciousness about the killing off of my darlings, I was fortunate to have parents who very consciously and explicitly raised me and my brother to be able to talk to people in any walk of life. Now, for me and my brother, this does NOTHING to actually eliminate nervousness, *but* it does manage the thing – and, frankly, there’s not much interest in a life into which a little nervousness never falls. Nervousness is close kin to excitement – and, if you’re excited about what you have written, as far as a pitch session goes, that can bring you halfway “there” so to speak.
I pay attention to how I plan to pitch, but I’m not scripted beyond those points about Clovis’ story I personally found so compelling I needed to write it, and which I know make the strongest selling points both literarily and in the market. Now, if I were blessed to attend conferences more regularly or closely dealing with my particular GENRE, maybe I’d have been agented years ago just off an in-person – but, as much as I love JRW, and as widely worthwhile as I find The Ax and the Vase to be … you may be astonished to learn that, apparently, the trade in ancient Frankish kings is not brisk in fiction currently.
(That’s not to say that the market is not good, but it does speak to Clovis’ relative obscurity next to the ubiquitous Tudors, Rome, and even the odd Plantagenet in histfic alone – and histfic is only one area out of many, when it comes to conference-planning for maximum impact. Take a look at the fascinating data produced recently by a historical fiction survey; even keeping in mind that this was created by sampling a necessarily skewed sample, the results are interesting and even encouraging.)
I keep getting off discussion of pitching. One has to be careful, you can do that in a 5-minute session, and POOF it’s all over then.
Another objection Reid has is that the five-minute pre set meeting is all an author gets, at a conference. This is where my love of JRW forces me to point out that – SOME conferences invite participants/agents/marquee speakers/editors to come AND TO BE THERE THE WHOLE TIME. Buttonholing agents in the hall is not merely encouraged, but built into the experience. So, at JRW – yes, they have pitch sessions (as Reid points out, to omit them might cause riots from writers who expect them), but there is also the opportunity to pitch impromptu … and just to have LUNCH with people. This past conference, I reacquainted myself briefly with Paige Wheeler, the first agent to ever request a partial from me (I need to re-query her ASAP!), and formally pitched both Victoria Skurnick and Deborah Grosvenor, who was incredibly generous in fitting me in at the end of an extraordinarly long day, and even got to just sit and relax for a while at a table off on its own slightly apart from the center of activity, talking cello music and mezzuzahs with Ms. Skurnick, who was so painfully delightful I asked for the interview then and there (and she was enthusiastic and lovely in saying yes, I’d love to).
So, clearly, I would number among those authors whose reaction to Janet Reid’s condemnation of these sessions would be resistant, to say the least. But then, I’m among those lucky twits whose reaction to nervousness itself seems to be manageable and productive – and I am also smug enough to say to myself, an author who wants to sell a book needs to be able to sell her or himself, so for pete’s sake, pitch sessions are just part of that education we need in order not only to improve our pitches and queries themselves, but to participate in the larger world I am trying to become part of, that of Published Author.
Who the HELL put that soapox there, and how did I trip on it … ?
Um. So – yeah, I kind of like pitch sessions. I like being surrounded by friends old and new, sharing these tiny and painful short works, getting feedback, rehearsing, improving them. Conferences have borne, for me, some of the best marketing work I’ve been able to produce in support of Ax itself. And, nervous or not, I’ve never been to one where EVERYONE was not completely supportive, no matter the context. And the agents are not the least of this. I’ve learned, even those who don’t “do” my genre are generally delightful people, and at times there’ve been those it just hurts me to know don’t work in my area. (Michelle Brower, I’m looking at you.)
Just thinking about all this makes me want to get a-querying and impress the pants off of those I’ve met – and Janet Reid herself (are you kidding me? Love Query Shark like I do, and NOT take a chance? No way – now that she’s open for queries again, she’s on the list, of course she is). And so I must away, and get cracking.
Even if I can’t vomit on anyone’s shoes.
Friday, October 25, 2013
Collection
Tom Williams and Anthony Riches on writing, Tom following up on word count and then Anthony - talking about his word count!
American Duchess has a collection of lovely early 19th-century dresses with CRAZY GIGOT SLEEVES ... Two Nerdy History Girls get a rare peek at the truly exquisite archive at Colonial Williamsburg - oh the embroidery! And here we have silly hats and a whimsical blogger at Historical Fiction Research. Men really do seem drab today in comparison with some of these ...
A Brief History of Baking (brief because it begins in the Middle Ages and stays in Britain, perhaps thanks to a tie-in to a cooking competition show ...). With recipes here - including icy cream!
Ancient Peruvian mummies, found in a remarkable state of preservation, to be studied for their lifestyle, health, and DNA.
Qing Dynasty art destroyed by "conservation" contractors. Sadly, firing the officials in charge doesn't redeem the cultural losses.
Where there is no destruction at all, a nice wide stage for blog-lery purist outrage at the "experiment" of rewriting Jane Austen. Because nobody has ever riffed off an existing story in a newer piece of writing, ever. Especially not a work by Austen. I'm sure there will be howls (I never snark like that, of course...). It's unlikely I'll make the time to post them ...
Jeff Sypeck on Becoming Charlemagne and that elegiac time before the bookstores died ...
Leila is giving the gifts for her birthday! Free copies of Hot Flashes, today through the 28th!
Kristy tells us what caught her senses at the James River Writers conference (she's a smarticle particle herself).
Nancy Bilyeau captures the paranoia of Tudor England. Read The Chalice - and watch your back!
Kim Rendfield discusses the way the Franks in her period used religion and magic to grapple with their world ... and the role of hostages in hedging your bets. Or not. Hostage-taking has in many periods of history (I know stories from Europe, but would be very interested to hear similar tales of negotiation in other cultures) turned into something far from the terrorist image the word brings to mind today. Caratacus enjoyed rather a famous sojourn in Rome after his capture. Theodoric the Great lived for years as a hostage in Constantinople, where he was "treated with favor" by emperors Leo I and Zeno. Cour de Lion famously became a songwriter in his prison. There was something of a code of peculiar guest status in the practice.
Finally, I want to get a taste of ancient Greek music when it comes out. The way people research and recreate ancient tongues and music and art is endlessly interesting for me.
American Duchess has a collection of lovely early 19th-century dresses with CRAZY GIGOT SLEEVES ... Two Nerdy History Girls get a rare peek at the truly exquisite archive at Colonial Williamsburg - oh the embroidery! And here we have silly hats and a whimsical blogger at Historical Fiction Research. Men really do seem drab today in comparison with some of these ...
A Brief History of Baking (brief because it begins in the Middle Ages and stays in Britain, perhaps thanks to a tie-in to a cooking competition show ...). With recipes here - including icy cream!
Ancient Peruvian mummies, found in a remarkable state of preservation, to be studied for their lifestyle, health, and DNA.
Qing Dynasty art destroyed by "conservation" contractors. Sadly, firing the officials in charge doesn't redeem the cultural losses.
Where there is no destruction at all, a nice wide stage for blog-lery purist outrage at the "experiment" of rewriting Jane Austen. Because nobody has ever riffed off an existing story in a newer piece of writing, ever. Especially not a work by Austen. I'm sure there will be howls (I never snark like that, of course...). It's unlikely I'll make the time to post them ...
Jeff Sypeck on Becoming Charlemagne and that elegiac time before the bookstores died ...
Leila is giving the gifts for her birthday! Free copies of Hot Flashes, today through the 28th!
Kristy tells us what caught her senses at the James River Writers conference (she's a smarticle particle herself).
Nancy Bilyeau captures the paranoia of Tudor England. Read The Chalice - and watch your back!
Kim Rendfield discusses the way the Franks in her period used religion and magic to grapple with their world ... and the role of hostages in hedging your bets. Or not. Hostage-taking has in many periods of history (I know stories from Europe, but would be very interested to hear similar tales of negotiation in other cultures) turned into something far from the terrorist image the word brings to mind today. Caratacus enjoyed rather a famous sojourn in Rome after his capture. Theodoric the Great lived for years as a hostage in Constantinople, where he was "treated with favor" by emperors Leo I and Zeno. Cour de Lion famously became a songwriter in his prison. There was something of a code of peculiar guest status in the practice.
Finally, I want to get a taste of ancient Greek music when it comes out. The way people research and recreate ancient tongues and music and art is endlessly interesting for me.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
She Covered Me With a Thousand Stitches
"One minute of deliberate choice at a time."
One of the heart-stopping moments from the 2012 Conference, I will never forget this reading.
Camisha L. Jones:
"When it came to me, my mother, she was made of persistence" ...
How wonderful that they preserved this.
One of the heart-stopping moments from the 2012 Conference, I will never forget this reading.
Camisha L. Jones:
"When it came to me, my mother, she was made of persistence" ...
How wonderful that they preserved this.
Creator of Adverbs ... and Porpoises
Brad Parks' prayer was an excellent appetizer for the weekend:
I really hope Mibi will watch this. And maybe use it in church.
I really hope Mibi will watch this. And maybe use it in church.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Take the Con 13
Triskaidekaphobia never made sense to me, and this year being the big one-three hasn't done a lot to turn me into a thirteen-o-phobe. As extraordinarily stressful as it's been, it hasn't been a "bad" year per se.
Which brings us to the inspiration, invigoration, and writers' nation that is: James River Writers' annual conference. We began this weekend, yesterday morning, with Gbari Allen Garrett, a young poet whose power with words was amazing. Carey Albertine gave us all the millennia of the history of writing in something like twenty minutes, and was winsome and enjoyable to meet, and an example of the support and enthusiasm that make the conference such a remarkably fine event. Chip Kidd, whom I missed being able to meet by only a few minutes - darn it! I didn't get his book signed! - provided a truly entertaining and useful look at the craft and science of graphic design, specifically cover design and the stories of how some of his own developed.
Unfortunately, we ran a little long and, because I hated to miss a minute of the opening plenary session - and, because I register early for the conference and was, therefore, at the top of the reservations list for one-on-one sessions with agents and hence was second from the top on *that* schedule, which commenced before the plenary session was over ... OOPS, I missed my agent. Gaaaaaaaahhh.
One of the many special and wonderful things about JRW, though, is that the Conference guests invited to participate are given the expectation that they should participate for the entire weekend, and should be available to attendees the entire time. And so, I hoped, at some point I might still be able to get in front of her. I wait-listed myself for any one-on-one I could get. And went off on my own. Spent some time with Leila which, while having little direct relationship to writing and working, was more than worthwhile in its own right. She is a friend I'm grateful to have.
And, at just the right moment, I got a call to come right over for a one-on-one with Victoria Skurnick. She turned out to be gratifying company, quite apart from being generous enough to take on an orphan pitch, so I followed up today by asking if I might interview her here on this blog. Stay tuned, because: she said yes! (Keep staying tuned, too, for Elizabeth Chadwick's interview, as she has the questions in her custody and I'm on her list, hopefully within the next couple of weeks.) The glint in her eye you can see in the photo at the link above is completely true to life, and it was one of the unique pleasures of the Conference, spending time with her and a couple other people, listening to a little cello music as we all sat out a session. Beautiful music, though we didn't get to hear enough of it.
Sharing a picture of Penelope the heartbreaker ... the Literary lunch on Saturday ... the turkey sandwiches and homemade chips today ... the wildly earnest boys and men ... the ideas that seem strange to a completely different perspective ... the charm of confluence and divergence ... the old faces, charming ... the new faces, almost nervous ... lots of turquoise and brown this year (including my own Saturday togs) ...
The thoughts stemming from "Revising Like a Rockstar" and "Finding the Right Feedback" - the questions asked and the posts you will see, yet to come.
The way, even beyond the end of the day yesterday, Deborah Grosvenor let me pitch her after all. And requested a synopsis and first chapter. (Victoria Skurnick, by the way, requested the full MSS. As she put it, now that everything's electronic, why request a partial? She can read or not read as much as she likes.)
A hallway chat with Paige Wheeler, the first agent who ever asked me for a partial - and who, now that I have revised, asked me to keep her in mind.
Though my "bite rate" on in-person pitches remains high (only one agent I've ever pitched didn't request at least a partial; and even she asked me to please query her when I complete Novel #2), I get a lot less squee-ish about that than I used to. As we know, my offers-of-representation rate remains at zero, so excellent pitch experience is only so useful.
Still, there is more to get out of an event like this - the interview, the option to re-query Paige Wheeler - the time spent with Leila, with Kristi, with Kristy, with everyone. Not least of which is the immense sense of gratitude that these women are my friends - that Kristi, our esteemed chair, has put on such a great Conference two years in a row. I'm so impressed with her, sometimes it's more than a pleasure to be her friend, but a privilege. She's that charming.
As may be clear, charm is not in short supply at the Conference, even though dear Miss Pen and Gossamer were not there. And yet, as much as it does to enliven my creativity, to satiate me socially, two days of surprises and stimulation are exhausting. Tomorrow, I'll be off work, and hopefully will relax and do nothing more than a bit of blogging and a bit more revising.
I hope to be able to send queries within two weeks. The interview - probably sooner. And the re-query as well, to Paige Wheeler.
So: more busy times for 2013. Will keep you posted. And here's hoping: it won't be bad luck at all.
Which brings us to the inspiration, invigoration, and writers' nation that is: James River Writers' annual conference. We began this weekend, yesterday morning, with Gbari Allen Garrett, a young poet whose power with words was amazing. Carey Albertine gave us all the millennia of the history of writing in something like twenty minutes, and was winsome and enjoyable to meet, and an example of the support and enthusiasm that make the conference such a remarkably fine event. Chip Kidd, whom I missed being able to meet by only a few minutes - darn it! I didn't get his book signed! - provided a truly entertaining and useful look at the craft and science of graphic design, specifically cover design and the stories of how some of his own developed.
Unfortunately, we ran a little long and, because I hated to miss a minute of the opening plenary session - and, because I register early for the conference and was, therefore, at the top of the reservations list for one-on-one sessions with agents and hence was second from the top on *that* schedule, which commenced before the plenary session was over ... OOPS, I missed my agent. Gaaaaaaaahhh.
One of the many special and wonderful things about JRW, though, is that the Conference guests invited to participate are given the expectation that they should participate for the entire weekend, and should be available to attendees the entire time. And so, I hoped, at some point I might still be able to get in front of her. I wait-listed myself for any one-on-one I could get. And went off on my own. Spent some time with Leila which, while having little direct relationship to writing and working, was more than worthwhile in its own right. She is a friend I'm grateful to have.
And, at just the right moment, I got a call to come right over for a one-on-one with Victoria Skurnick. She turned out to be gratifying company, quite apart from being generous enough to take on an orphan pitch, so I followed up today by asking if I might interview her here on this blog. Stay tuned, because: she said yes! (Keep staying tuned, too, for Elizabeth Chadwick's interview, as she has the questions in her custody and I'm on her list, hopefully within the next couple of weeks.) The glint in her eye you can see in the photo at the link above is completely true to life, and it was one of the unique pleasures of the Conference, spending time with her and a couple other people, listening to a little cello music as we all sat out a session. Beautiful music, though we didn't get to hear enough of it.
Sharing a picture of Penelope the heartbreaker ... the Literary lunch on Saturday ... the turkey sandwiches and homemade chips today ... the wildly earnest boys and men ... the ideas that seem strange to a completely different perspective ... the charm of confluence and divergence ... the old faces, charming ... the new faces, almost nervous ... lots of turquoise and brown this year (including my own Saturday togs) ...
The thoughts stemming from "Revising Like a Rockstar" and "Finding the Right Feedback" - the questions asked and the posts you will see, yet to come.
The way, even beyond the end of the day yesterday, Deborah Grosvenor let me pitch her after all. And requested a synopsis and first chapter. (Victoria Skurnick, by the way, requested the full MSS. As she put it, now that everything's electronic, why request a partial? She can read or not read as much as she likes.)
A hallway chat with Paige Wheeler, the first agent who ever asked me for a partial - and who, now that I have revised, asked me to keep her in mind.
Though my "bite rate" on in-person pitches remains high (only one agent I've ever pitched didn't request at least a partial; and even she asked me to please query her when I complete Novel #2), I get a lot less squee-ish about that than I used to. As we know, my offers-of-representation rate remains at zero, so excellent pitch experience is only so useful.
Still, there is more to get out of an event like this - the interview, the option to re-query Paige Wheeler - the time spent with Leila, with Kristi, with Kristy, with everyone. Not least of which is the immense sense of gratitude that these women are my friends - that Kristi, our esteemed chair, has put on such a great Conference two years in a row. I'm so impressed with her, sometimes it's more than a pleasure to be her friend, but a privilege. She's that charming.
As may be clear, charm is not in short supply at the Conference, even though dear Miss Pen and Gossamer were not there. And yet, as much as it does to enliven my creativity, to satiate me socially, two days of surprises and stimulation are exhausting. Tomorrow, I'll be off work, and hopefully will relax and do nothing more than a bit of blogging and a bit more revising.
I hope to be able to send queries within two weeks. The interview - probably sooner. And the re-query as well, to Paige Wheeler.
So: more busy times for 2013. Will keep you posted. And here's hoping: it won't be bad luck at all.
Saturday, September 28, 2013
JRW News Release
September 25, 2013
NEWS RELEASE
Contact: Sheila Sheppard
Loveladay, Program Director
804-433-3790, info@JamesRiverWriters.org
2013
James River Writers Conference Brings Publishing Professionals to Richmond
Richmond, VA — What has been
declared “one of the best writing conferences in America” by nationally
renowned author and book doctor, David Henry Sterry, returns for its eleventh
year this October.
A part of the Virginia
Literary Festival, the 2013 James River Writers Conference will include
speakers such as award-winning book designer and author Chip Kidd,
award-winning author Lee Smith, best-selling and award-winning author
Christopher McDougall, National Book Award-winner Kathryn Erskine,
award-winning novelist Lydia Netzer, five literary agents available for
one-on-one sessions with attendees, book doctors Arielle Eckstut and David
Henry Sterry hearing live pitches at “Pitchapalooza,” and many more.
“JRW is known for its
camaraderie. Some of the most respected literary agencies, a designer who
changed the face of books, and innovative publishers are in central Virginia's
backyard for one weekend and everyone is invited,” says conference chair Kristi
Tuck Austin. “Mingle with agents over coffee, chat during lunch with nationally-renowned
authors, and form relationships that will grow with you and your art for
years.”
On Saturday, October 19th
and Sunday, October 20th, the JRW Conference will be held at the
Greater Richmond Convention Center. Pre-conference master classes will be held
on Friday, October 18th at the Virginia State Capitol with workshop
subjects ranging from “DIY Book Apps” with app designer Michael Portis and
award-winning author Gigi Amateau to “Getting in Your Character’s
Skin” with National Book Award-winner Kathryn Erskine.
“Panels are designed to be
relevant no matter where writers are in their careers,” continues Austin.
“Attendees can follow one track that includes panels covering everything from
finding ideas to the submission process. A craft track delves into topics like
character and plot; another furthers their business savvy.”
James River Writers is a
nonprofit organization whose mission is to build community by connecting and
inspiring writers and readers in central Virginia. The 2013 conference is
supported by BrownGreer, VCU Libraries, Richmond Times-Dispatch, Fraga Studios,
CultureWorks, Dominion, Hunton & Williams, Art Works, and the Virginia
Commission for the Arts.
Registration for the two-day
conference is $240; one-day passes are $170, and pre-conference master classes
are $40 each. Visit JamesRiverWriters.org for more details.
Friday, August 16, 2013
The Most Wonderful Time of the Year ... ?
The James River Writers conference is coming again sooner than we think - and registration is open! This isn't my sort of thing to say, but: I cannot recommend this event highly enough. Check out the events, this year's agents and guests, and think about it ...
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Take the Con '12
This year, the Conference saw a lot of changes, and maintained some reassuring familiarity. As to the latter, as David Sterry said, "This is the best organized conference in the United States!" We all owe Kristi a massive debt of joyous gratitude.
The "bite" streak continues on my in-person pitches; every time I do one I get one level or another of request for query, partial, or full MSS. This year I heard a lot of "wow, he is a tough one, his asking you for a partial is huge!" - but the fact is, I heard that a lot last year regarding the woman who requested my full ... and then never contacted me once she had it, either for a rejection or a deal. Fine by me, she was a longer shot even than this agent, but still I find that unprofessional. So I'm trying not to go wild with glee.
But then, this guy also agreed to let me interview him RIGHT HERE on my blog - and his preferences and profile as an agent are almost un-Google-able. The agent is Alec Shane. He's with Writers House, he's had a fascinating career of his own (easily Google-able!), he's slightly less terrifyingly young than some of the agents look to this old broad.
The main question he asked me during my pitch session was reassuring, though it unnerved me for a moment. He asked me "how long have you been working on this" (a question I find so hard to deal with in the age of NaNoWriMo and ever-shorter news cycles and instant gratification). I started A&V seven years ago - but Alec said, when I answered him honestly, "I don't think historical fiction that takes less than five years is really finished."
I was grateful for that. And for letting me reach out to you again - both with the partial and for an interview.
So much came out of the Conference, but if it's worth specifics on everything it'll have to wait for another day. I am exhausted (and glad I took tomorrow off).
The "bite" streak continues on my in-person pitches; every time I do one I get one level or another of request for query, partial, or full MSS. This year I heard a lot of "wow, he is a tough one, his asking you for a partial is huge!" - but the fact is, I heard that a lot last year regarding the woman who requested my full ... and then never contacted me once she had it, either for a rejection or a deal. Fine by me, she was a longer shot even than this agent, but still I find that unprofessional. So I'm trying not to go wild with glee.
But then, this guy also agreed to let me interview him RIGHT HERE on my blog - and his preferences and profile as an agent are almost un-Google-able. The agent is Alec Shane. He's with Writers House, he's had a fascinating career of his own (easily Google-able!), he's slightly less terrifyingly young than some of the agents look to this old broad.
The main question he asked me during my pitch session was reassuring, though it unnerved me for a moment. He asked me "how long have you been working on this" (a question I find so hard to deal with in the age of NaNoWriMo and ever-shorter news cycles and instant gratification). I started A&V seven years ago - but Alec said, when I answered him honestly, "I don't think historical fiction that takes less than five years is really finished."
I was grateful for that. And for letting me reach out to you again - both with the partial and for an interview.
So much came out of the Conference, but if it's worth specifics on everything it'll have to wait for another day. I am exhausted (and glad I took tomorrow off).
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