Setting My Baby Free – Or, It’s Query Time (Again)

On a cold day in February in 2007, I walked north along Ocean Beach in San Francisco and snapped the photo that now resides as the header of this blog. (It’s also a framed poster over my bed, where it gives me constant inspiration.)

Later that day, on a Northwest Airline flight to Detroit, I began writing in a notebook. It wasn’t a story, with a beginning, a middle, and an end, it was more a stream of consciousness about my walk on the beach.

When I arrived home, I put my musings into the computer. The seven or eight mini pages grew. And grew, and grew.

I honestly couldn’t write a word of dialogue back then, so my paragraphs were full of internal musings. Since I couldn’t write dialogue, I had eight different POVs…yeah. About 7 POVs too many. If there was a rule about writing fiction, I broke it – in spades, over and over.

When I had 70K words (of which 90% was pure garbage), I finally visualized the story: a woman of common beginnings, longing for love, thrust into a world of money and prestige. I leaned toward writing a romance, until I learned what the definition of “romance” was. There are plenty of romantic elements in the story, but this is no Happily Ever After. My main character suffers. A LOT. There was no room for flirtation in this tale.

The story: Cadence’s husband of many years killed in a car accident. His death uncovers many secrets, the kind that could devastate a strong woman, but they totally rattle Cadie. But it’s not just his hidden life and indiscretions she must wade through – in beating herself over his choices, she discovers that the compass guiding her own life is severely skewed. She spends a good majority of the book “finding” herself, thus the title: FINDING CADENCE.

It took two long years and 176K words (still 75% garbage) before The End appeared at the bottom of the page. Two years – I finished the first draft the Sunday before my first San Francisco Writers Conference (2009), scheduled for the upcoming Friday. If you are a writer you know the feeling of typing those two magic words; you’re on Cloud 9 for days. And I was going to attend my first writers conference. I was giddy beyond belief.

I was. Until I realized The End is just The Beginning.

Especially if you attend a kick-ass writing conference like the SFWC. I learned in two and a half days that my work was so not ready for the big time.

With that cold slap in the face, I put the manuscript away. And cried a little. (Let’s be honest; I cried a lot.) At first I’d shuttered it for thirty days, but when I peeked at it again, it was so awful, I put it away for a YEAR. I honestly thought my writing “career” – such as it was – was over.

After many online classes, another SFWC, a new manuscript (VIRTUALLY YOURS, totally different in feel and genre), and much prodding by my writing friends, I decided to give it another go. Opening the now dusty computer file, I discovered that while the execution was terrible, the story wasn’t half bad.

There was editing. Once, to get rid of redundant words, the adverbs, etc. That chopped off 10K post haste. The second go-’round I changed the POV from eight (maybe nine) to ONE – first person. The third, I cut, and cut, and cut some more. By this time the result was about 50% garbage. So off it went to not one, but two editors. I meditated  on this story – A LOT. As there is a musical component, I listened to a lot of music, especially Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto #2, and the subsequent modern day rip off riffs from the common themes of the piece. Like Cadie, her life appeared to undulate much like the three movements of the concerto. And so I discovered my theme!

I visited San Francisco many times, to get the feel. Also returned to Colorado, because the feel of the High Plains is NOTHING like San Francisco – or Michigan.

I also ran the manuscript through a Savvy Author class, devised a workable ending that made sense. When it was down to about 20% garbage, it went through another developmental edit, and voila! what I have is what I have now. (Hopefully with less than 10% garbage.)

So you can see how I view my work as my baby.

Now it’s time to set my baby free. Look out agents, the queries are coming, the queries are coming.

Soon.

Readers: Are They the Exception or the Norm?

The one thing I enjoy about the San Francisco Writers Conference are the contests. Yes, I enter, and yes, I’ve had mixed results, but that’s the whole point. How will you know if you’ll win or not unless you try? I’m also impressed that they hold a similar contest for high school students. Even though I don’t currently have any high school students, I was once one – a long, long time ago.

I have, in fact, told stories as long as I can remember. I like to draw, so many of my tales were illustrated. I had a wild imagination, one so off the beaten path, that in 7th grade I was expelled from Catholic school because of a rather racy short story I wrote that got passed around until it landed in the hands of Sister Mary Ruler-Slapper. (I can laugh about it now, but my mother didn’t speak to me for three months.) It was so bad, I was not only banished, but so were my siblings.

My shortcomings were not in writing, they were in speaking, which is why I never said a word during debate class. However, I read voraciously, skipping right over anything age appropriate and going straight to the classics. The “harder” the book, the more I wanted to tackle it. Book reports: in 4th grade I wrote nearly 30 of them, for extra credit and because I loved to read. That’s more books read than there are weeks of school.

In my junior year of high school, I decided to enter the city-wide Junior League Creative Writing Contest. Okay, so the city was Colorado Springs and not the Big Apple, but it was a big deal to me. My short story was a dystopian, future set tale of a broken down world and one man’s love for a priceless antique chair. I dug it out of the basement about a year ago and typed it — it was TERRIBLE. How did I win Second Place?

I have no idea.

Now I am old(er), and starting to sound like my dad. I am concerned about the reading abilities of our children. I deal with teenagers all the time in my Day Job, and I had two children. As a writer, I’m fearful for these new readers, my potential audience. Many of them can’t read because they were taught some cockamamie theory when in kindergarten. I’m surprised my son can read at all, because at the time, “inventive” spelling was all the rage. He was encouraged (by the school) to spell words however he wanted to. On the other hand, I, as the mean mom, would make him write his spelling words twenty times and then grill him in mock tests. (What can I say? I’m half-Japanese.)

Other kids are dyslexic or have ADD. This would be my daughter. She would read out loud perfectly, but would write out of context or not retain one iota of information. That’s because her mind was thinking about something else – it’s always thinking about something else. She doesn’t enjoy reading, and the only way I could get her to ‘read’ Harry Potter books was to buy the accompanying audio books so she could read along while listening.

My children didn’t grow up deprived; we read to both, all of the time. We supplemented what they were learning in school (had to, even though they went to private schools). We could afford books and I bought plenty. Yet, I believe that neither one (for whatever reason) could read to my ability in 7th grade.

Sure, kids these days read, and the popularity of the Hunger Games and the mad YA market are testament to that. But my own kids have been in “reading” classes where they watch the movies the books were made from – not exactly reading.

I live in the Detroit area, and the city schools have notoriously low graduation rates. Many of the kids I see come through here can barely write their names. Some can’t spell or pronounce the streets they live on. They can read abbreviated text messages, but have no idea how to read a book for the enjoyment of it. Suburban kids might fare a little better, but the standards are still mediocre. Some kids (and adults) these days want to do the least amount of work, to just do enough to get by.

I place advertising in school newspapers, partly because I am a product of several school newspapers (junior high, high school, and college), and partly because I like to read what the current crop of kids are writing. Most of the writing is good, witty, relevant. However, one by one, I am seeing school newspapers being dropped as a class. One advisor told me it was not just the money, but the school spends a good deal of time trying to get test scores up, so they drop the classes that don’t apply to the state test, like newspapers, wood shop, home ec, etc.

The result is kids who can’t create because they aren’t given the chance, and not given the chance, can’t improve their minds. I don’t know if what I’m seeing on a day to day basis is an anomaly, or if it’s a trend. The other question that lingers is if these are writers of the future, what will become of books? What will become of opinion, or art?

That’s why when I see articulate, intelligent teenage writers at the San Francisco Writers Conference pick up their awards and get recognized for excellence, it quickens my heart, if only temporarily.

I still have my fingers crossed.

The San Francisco Writers Conference – 2013 Edition

Five years ago I was THIS: an author with a freshly pressed “The End” at the bottom of an abyss-like (and therefore abysmal) tome of 175K words. My first novel. I’d researched plenty of writers conferences and thought the San Francisco Writers Conference was the one for me. Highly touted by everyone, and when my writer pals found out Donald Maass was slated as one of the speakers, they pushed me to attend. It’s held in February, when I can usually take a week off without the (Real) world coming to a crushing end. And my son was going to college there, so visiting after the conference was a definite plus. But I was self-conscious and didn’t think my work was good enough. That was the year I thought, “I’m just going to be a fly on the wall and observe dispassionately.” I’ll become the human sponge and soak up all the knowledge I can.

Yeah. Right.

I must admit, I was star struck, flabbergasted, and so amazed that my head didn’t stop spinning for a month. Agents, writers, editors – genuine best selling authors! But there was more to it than a reporter’s unbiased look at a world class writers conference. As with any love, I fell, deep and hard.

Wallflower no more, I made friends. I chatted with people around the country and around the world. Their positive energy and enthusiasm caused me to step outside of my comfort zone. Even though my draft was a first draft, and needed a TON of work, I signed up for agent speed dating and gave it a whirl – where I learned not only was my book not ready for the big time, I was not ready either.

Tomorrow morning at 6 a.m., I’ll be jetting back to the City by the Bay for yet another conference. This year, it’s different. I’m seasoned. Thanks to the SFWC, I have accumulated a ton of writing friends, belong to the RWA (PRO member!) and Greater Detroit RWA, and have an editor that I work with. I self-published what was my second completed novel last year. I’ve learned to stalk agents on Twitter without having them take out a personal protection order out on me. I’m hooked up with so many helpful writing web sites, and have increased my writing reference library by 10 fold. But just because I’ve attended five years in a row doesn’t mean I know it all.

I’m counting on Michael Larsen and Elizabeth Pomada to host another kick-ass conference, where I’ll learn more than my head can possibly contain (and therefore will take copious notes), be thrilled and encouraged by the successes of others, and jump start my mojo so that I can write yet another day.

They haven’t let me down yet.

Preparing for the 2013 San Francisco Writers Conference – Yikes!

OMG. I just realized that in one short week, I’ll be packing to go. Am I ready?

Not really, and it’s not just because I realized when my wayward 7 By 7 (code for San Francisco) daughter came home for Christmas that her suitcase was bulging with MY sweaters (I was wondering where my sweaters ran off to…I dry clean them, so they couldn’t have gone the way of missing socks) and I really need to shop for replacements to fill the holes in my trendy, business casual wardrobe – retail therapy I don’t have time for.

No, it could be that my re-write on FINDING CADENCE still is not finished.

That’s because I’ve been tightening and deleting, and tightening some more. Then I had to reread what was left to determine if it all still made sense. I have to balance a tenuous psychological component with the fact that my antagonist is an attorney running for Governor,  so I’ve had to button down the legalities of my story. And I still need to exterminate at least 5K words, to take it from the scary, over 126K mark down to a count that won’t scare off an agent. (I’m fairly confident a little white query lie of 120K will petrify anyone in the biz.) Every once in a while, I drag out my query and take a stab at it. The art of the query is not my major forte. Honestly, it’s like trying to kill an opossum with a chopstick. It’s slow, I’m stupid, and it just won’t offer me a speedy demise.

And while I’m feeling super confident and open to any and all suggestions, I am suffering from the same stomach-trapped butterflies I found in my stomach five years ago – just before attending my FIRST San Francisco Writers Conference. When I was a newbie and afraid of not only agents and editors, but of fellow writers.

Now editors and agents don’t scare me anymore. They’re people, just like me. And fellow writers are the best! They are helpful and kind and many of them stay in touch after our weekend is over. While I’ve made huge strides in my writing, have learned, struggled, written a LOT, queried, even self-e-pubbed, there is still the lingering d.o.u.b.t. You know the drill. Am I good enough? Will my epic tale ever find a home with a good agent, one who has faith in me and my work? Will I ever sell more than a hundred books?

I recently learned I’m not a finalist in the contest this year, another semi-crushing blow (for a minute).

And the final, Big Truth moment? THIS IS MY FIFTH CONFERENCE.

Not that I don’t love it; I do. When I go, I get caught up in the enthusiasm and all the positive energy. I learn something new every year. The SFWC is what I need to drag me out of winter doldrums and writer’s slowdown. No, while the venue is heavenly, it’s just that one would think my learning curve might have improved over time. Over the span of five years (not counting the two years before that I spent on the first draft). Shouldn’t I have been scooped up by now?

Well, I have expended my twenty minutes of doubt and self-pity. It’s time to get back to the edit, and my Honeybaked ham bean soup. And my edit.

See you in San Francisco.

Nothing Could Be More Perfect Than This Stolen Post

This lovely missive was in my email inbox today, from Michael Larsen of the San Francisco Writers Conference. The sentiments expressed are perfect not only for writers, but for anyone who wishes to live a more perfect life.

Thank you, Michael, for keeping it real, and see you in February.

A Wish List for Perfect Days

In memory of my brother Ray,

a San Francisco Writers Conference benefactor, who had many of them.

 

If your days were perfect, what would they be like?

Your list will be different, but it might include:

Inside

• having harmonious personal and professional goals that motivate you to do whatever it takes to achieve them
• putting short-term goals in the service of long-term achievements with enduring value
• living as simply as possible, as if every day were your last
• knowing what enough is and earning it with daily effort
• loving what you do so much you don’t notice time
• balancing

–desire and necessity

–giving and having

–time and money

–thought and feeling

–comfort and the need to create and serve

–serving others and yourself

–sitting and moving

–screen time and the rest of your life

–work, home, and leisure

–ownership and access

–sound and silence

–planning, flexibility, and spontaneity

–imbalances created by the need to focus on an activity

–yin and yang 

In the World

• filling your days with challenges that inspire your creativity
• seeing opportunities in change, problems, and the unexpected
• earning and enjoying the respect, admiration, friendship, and support of everyone you know
• expressing gratitude through giving and service
• having time and money to devote to the people, ideas, projects, and organizations you’re passionate about
• learning about what excites you and what you need to know
• laughing and making others laugh
• making decisions, knowing that that money, technology, and other forms of power are useful tools but destructive masters
• meeting your responsibilities as a citizen of a neighborhood, city, state, country, and the world
• transforming anger about problems into positive action
• needing no contact with the legal, medical, or corporate world, government, or large institutions, except to try to improve them
• being able to work anywhere
• helping strangers who can’t help you
• celebrating your achievements

At Home

• waking early, after an uninterrupted night’s sleep, next to your beloved, knowing the best way to use the day and eager to start it
• having a home that has charm, character, and a garden, and that  is filled with love, light, color, art, music, and books, and that enlightens, entertains, and inspires everyone who enters
• spending time with a family that is a source of love, renewal, encouragement, and wisdom
• loving and needing the joys of domesticity but not letting them lessen your courage, discipline, and determination to pursue the dreams you were born to fulfill
• sharing simple, varied, beautiful, colorful, delicious, nutritious, locally produced food
• having a spiritual practice that brings you peace of mind
• being at peace with your significance in 400 billion galaxies
• living in a place that’s safe, good for raising children and provides privacy, diversity, a sense of community, natural beauty, a creative environment, access to culture and kindred spirits, local and independent sources of products and services, effective schools and government, full employment, freedom from want, a climate without extremes, planned growth that enhances the quality of life, community involvement, and the freedom to live as you wish
• renewing your sense of wonder at the beauty and grandeur of nature
• reading books you love without being disturbed, with Bach or Mozart providing the  soundtrack
• working in your garden growing the fruits, vegetables, and flowers
• using only what you need and minimizing waste
• exercising your mind and body
• understanding the value of people, information, and experiences and giving them the attention they deserve
• having patience with others and yourself
• being debt-free and saving for the future you want
• experiencing no form of marketing
• doing all you can as well as you can and expressing your gratitude for the day
• making love as if it were the first time and the last
• renewing yourself with sleep that begins the moment you snuggle your beloved

What makes a day perfect is subjective, but unlike this list, it’s likely to be simple. May every day be as close to perfect as you can make it. Like a rose, you were born to bloom. Now is the time to start doing whatever is best for you and becoming who you were born to be. As Anne Frank wrote: “It is never too late to start doing the right thing.”

Please feel free to share this list. I hope it inspires you and those you love to make a list and share it. This list will always be a work in progress, and I’d like to learn from yours. Many thanks for your time.

Michael Larsen

Words of Wisdom From the San Francisco Writers Conference

I can’t believe it’s already been three whole weeks since the San Francisco Writers Conference! While Real Life has threatened to swallow me whole (and spit me out), I’ve been slowly unearthing all of the wonderful little tidbits of information I had gathered during my three and a half days at the conference.

Today, I decided to open up my iPhone and check my notes. Yes, this year, I took notes on my iPhone. This compact device does a lot more than remind me when it’s my turn for Scramble. It even does more than provide soothing hits of the ’60′s on Pandora. The bonus is that it’s small, discreet, and makes more sense to use for note taking, especially if you’re situated at a crowded table overladen with the best banquet food ever, with nine other people.

I pulled out the trusty iPhone when Lisa See spoke. She gave a writer’s checklist, of which I’ll give the Cliff Notes version:

1. Write what you know. (We know.)

2. Start where you are. (Sometimes we don’t know, but it makes sense.)

3. Write a thousand words a day. (I’m soooo bad at this. But yes, I’m kicking myself in the rear.)

4. Research. (It’s necessary, especially if you don’t start at No. 1.)

5. Write a charming note a day. (She means to fellow authors, to people who have helped you, to people you admire. In my case, I’m trying to write a charming thank you note a week, which is one more than I have before.)

6. Edit. (Absolutely necessary.)

7. Read books by people who inspire you. (I do!)

8. Support your local bookstores. (I wish there were local bookstores here. I’m having a difficult enough time supporting the big box stores.)

9. Be who you are. (You can’t write like JK Rowling because you’re not JK Rowling.)

10. Voice and authenticity. (? I can’t remember what she said here. I know. Old age.)

11. Be passionate. (Most artists are.)

12. Enjoy the moment. (Hell, yes!)

13. Remember the things that matter. (Meaning it’s not the heady rush of publishing, or even of writing. Sometimes the things that matter are the little things, the things that have nothing to do with writing. REMEMBER.)

14. Writing isn’t easy. (Who said it was?)

15. Cut to the bone. (Because we all know we don’t want the gristle.)

16. The word and your voice.

17. Art is the heartbeat of the artist. (YES!)

I’ll admit, some of the list items don’t make a lot of sense, but I was typing quickly and trying to gobble down dessert. However, the first five are the most important.

I’m not going to erase my iPhone note. Instead, I think I’ll set an alarm to remind myself to look at it at least once a week.

Another San Francisco Writers Conference, Another Kick in the Rear

I love San Francisco, and I really love the San Francisco Writers Conference. It’s not the fine food and stellar accommodations, it’s not the rubbing of elbows with the glitterati of the literati. It’s not even the infectious positive energy that seems to be exuding from everyone’s pores. Nope. This is the one weekend of the year when I receive a much needed kick in the pants.

Lisa See was the luncheon speaker the other day. Her talking points regarding the life of a writer really hit home. Key among them is something I’ve constantly heard. “A thousand words a day.”

Seems like a simple thing to do, but it’s not. Well, it is, but if you’re a world class procrastinator like I am, you can find at least a thousand and one reasons to put off the daily write.

I’m old. I have limited time to devote to writing, and I should make use of that time judiciously. Consider me sufficiently mentally flogged.

This is why I’m up at 4 a..m. writing.

Not really. I’m up at 4 a.m. because I’m still on Michigan time. And because after four days of rushing up and down stairs at the conference and navigating the streets of San Francisco (also up and down, talk about a workout), I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. Despite my sore muscles and droopy, jet-lagged eyelids, once I post this, I’m going to get busy. Again.

So thank you, Lisa See.

A Week of Frantic Writing/Editing

I’m feeling more like a REAL writer every day…

I just spent the last ten days going over FINDING CADENCE to get it into some sort of shape to send to world-famous, Alan Rinzler, editor to stars of the literary world. You know the ones: Tom Robbins, Toni Morrison, Clive Cussler – those kinds of literary luminaries.

I won Mr. Rinzler’s expert services during an eBay silent auction held by the San Francisco Writers Conference.

For those of you who have been following my search for Cadence (or not – who knows? you might have landed on this blog by pure coincidence), FINDING CADENCE was my first novel. Epic. 175K pages. Poorly written. I took every cliqueed broken rule and broke it some more. It was so awful, I couldn’t stand to look at it for more than 365 days. It was barely readable by me, so I wonder what my betas thought.

But…the story is a good one. It was salvageable. So with some trepidation, I opened the file back up last summer and plunged into the muck. I added more drama, more angst, more problems. I planned the story out better, making sure to weave in details I missed the first time. I cut, cut, and cut – especially the redundancies, the adverbs, and most of the telling. Then I cut some more.

Next I entered it into the SFWC contest. And it made it to finalist. Finalist!

Then I bid on Alan Rinzler’s editing, and I won the auction. I won!

Oh, my God. I won?

This is where the last ten days come into play. I was in the midst of changing the manuscript from third person, many POVs (too many if you ask me – my head was spinning) to first person. I had only completed a little more than one-third of the story at the time of the conference. So when I returned home, I spent every spare minute going over the rest of it.

I finished Wednesday night, and emailed the revised Cadence to Mr. Rinzler yesterday. It’s leaner (100K), meaner, but still needs a lot of work. Believe me, if anyone needs writing help, it’s me.

I need to add entire scenes I cut from those other POVs. Otherwise the story will be disjointed, as I used those other people to fill in the gaps of the story.

But my first plan of action was to deliver something to Mr. Rinzler. And I have.

It’s on to working on other things I’ve let slide. Laziness, other life, bad mojo…I can blame my lack of writing on lots of things, but it all comes down to me. I figure the rush I got from the conference won’t last long, so I might as well take advantage of it while I can.