Category Archives: Novel

I’m a Loser Baby

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Well, after a month of waiting, 10,000 authors’ blogs will have entry fodder for the day. ABNA announced the winners of those who made it past the Pitch phase in the contest.

General Fiction
YA Fiction

I searched the YA list; not once, nor twice, but seven times to make sure my name was missing. I did a “Find” for my real name, my pen name, my birth name, my mother’s maiden name–just in case. Nothing. So, I repeated the search on the GenFic list, just in case it was mistakenly categorized. Nothing.

So, I am putting the whole experience into perspective.
1. The contest entry is really only equal to a single query submission.
2. I know the pitch I am currently including in queries is much stronger than the original I submitted to the contest.

Here’s the new tagline:

Starting over can be a good thing—unless you’ve already lived a thousand lifetimes,
and still can’t get it right.

Here’s the new Pitch:

Oblivion. Rebirth. Failure. Oblivion.

Capritare has no idea how many times he has repeated this sequence, but he knows it is time to end it. He stands before the three sovereign entities. Which one will lead him to completion: the masculine Yramid, the feminine Pheras, or the mysterious Esque? He will be granted seven such choices in his short lifetime, after which he will be judged.

He is not alone on his quest. Hundreds of others struggle with the ever-changing embellishments of wings, antlers, tentacles; and the search for a lifelong companion. In a world where girls can be masculine, boys can be feminine, and everyone can switch at any time—Capritare experiments to find a mate. His experiences lead him through the sweetness of love, and the pain of disappointment.

As the seventh cycle ends, they each must vow to only one of the entities. Capritare is drawn to one in particular, but he is afraid to eat the proffered seed that will confirm his choice. If it is the wrong one, he will return—yet again—to oblivion.

So, like all the other “losers”, I move on. Time for another querying blitz! And I’ll be trolling the blogs to see how many more response posts I can find.

[Disclaimer: At the request of a friend, I must note that this is not a self-pitying post. The title and use of the the term “Loser” are intended as tongue-in-cheek hyperbole!] ::: insert smirk here :::

Not "Will", But "Which"

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I declare that from this moment forward, I will stop thinking:
Will an agent represent my novel? Will s/he be able to snag a publisher?

I declare that from this moment forward, I will begin thinking:
Which agent will snatch up my novel? Which publisher is going to beg to print it?

*** UPDATE 2/17/12 ***
Well, it WILL NOT be my top choice–Barry Goldblatt… WHICH other agent will it be?

30 Minute Rejection

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Over the last two days, I have focused on an agent querying blitz.  At this point, I have submitted thirty-six queries. By researching not just each agency’s website, but also blogs and online interviews, I have been able to further narrow down the hundreds and hundreds of agents to a much more manageable list.

There are 5 agents in particular that I would most like to court. These constitute my “All-Star” list. I am drawn to these agents for a number of reasons:
– Past success as measured by recent and overall manuscript placement
– An amazing roster of current clients represented
– An interest in novels with the themes, genre and demographic-target of my Capritare trilogy

I pulled out all the stops when querying these agents. In addition to following the “Submission Guidelines” perfectly (as always), I also tailored the query using specific information I learned about the agents online. It will be interesting to see if this experiment results in anything more than a good ol’ form rejection.

Speaking of rejections…

I received my quickest one ever today. I emailed the query, and within thirty minutes, got my response.

“Sent from my Ipad.
Thanks, but we will pass.”

If only an acceptance from one of my All-Star agents would come through that quickly.

Two Cents

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There is a great line from a Jay Brannan song that says:I should have million of dollars, ’cause every asshole’s put two cents in.

I have been receiving a lot of useful feedback from the authors & readers at Authonomy. Most of the comments have been helpful in pointing out issues that my myopic view of the story won’t allow me to see. These suggestions have helped me further polish the narrative to a lustrous sheen.

As with opinions on any topic, many can be disregarded outright. This has become most apparent when receiveing reviews from readers who don’t normally delve into the fantasy genre. One issue that has been noted, is that the storia begins in media res. The stage is set, the characters are already in place, and the reader is allowed to sit around a campfire-of-sorts and join a conversation which has already begun. The backstory unfolds for the reader as the characters discover the truths for themselves.

I feel strongly about dropping the reader into the midst of the opening scene where they begin to learn about the world from the characters’ viewpoint. Having just been “reborn” in a sense, the characters are beginning their journey, and we are taken along for the ride. I found an interview of literary agent Laurie McLean by Stacey O’Neale here . Laurie addresses this issue in one of her responses.

Q: With fiction partials, what makes you stop reading and start skimming-or stop reading altogether?
 
A: The usual suspects. Grammatical errors, misspellings, too much exposition, too little character revelation, using too many words to say something, passive verbs, too little or too much world building, slow pacing, backstory, etc. In this modern age, and especially with fantasy, you need to pack as much power into your opening scene as possible. Your world should be front and center, but not so much that you slow the pacing of the action to a crawl. Banish backstory in this scene. Instead feather it throughout the manuscript-exactly what is needed exactly when the reader needs to know it, not before. And make your characters compelling. If the reader doesn’t like the character enough to want to take the journey of a story with them, you’ve lost me.

I may very well be using this excerpt as a proof-text to prove that my instinct is correct. That’s okay. I can bend a little on providing a bit more explanation up front if needed. CAPRITARE: The Cycles Begin doesn’t currently have a “Prologue”, so I can always add a lead-in if need be. But, I am going to hold out and wait for that recommendation to come from an agent, not a non-fantasy-reading-reviewer.

I’m with Jay. I ought to be a millionaire.

Between the Lines

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Writing takes time. Unfortunately, so does the rest of life; breathing, hygeine, social life, making a living…

My current means of paying the bills comes from self-employment. My partner and I own Lucah Designs. We sell antiques (as-is and refurbished), industrial furniture (cleaned and converted to domestic use), and newly created pieces (artistic, one-of-a-kind items upcycled from antique components). Over the last two weeks, my motivation has been more towards the writing endeavors than the business side of things.

Today, we pack up for Atlanta. We set up our wares there at the Scott Antique Market once a month in hopes that folks will fall in love with our pieces. It’s hit and miss, but that the way it is.

The good thing about doing shows is that there is plenty of down-time while we man the booth. Plus, I get twenty hours in the van on the trip down and back. While this time isn’t all that conducive for writing fresh words, it is excellent for editing those already put down on paper. So, I have less guilt of writing between the lines, focusing on my craft, within the fits and starts of the business of making money.

My partner, Micah, is amazingly understanding about this bent of mine towards writing. He actually grants me more time to do it than I deserve. In the backs of both of our minds is the hope that–one day–it will all  be worth it. All it takes is that one book to take off. Then, it can run in the background, adding to the income stream. Even a tiny tributary will help relieve the pressure of creating, creating, creating while never knowing if the masses are going to appreciate what we have made.

Then again, I guess writing has that same unknown factor. Authors can hack away at a manuscript and create that magnum opus only to have it collect dust in the backroom of the workshop. We have had plenty of furniture pieces do that. We think the English Lowboy from the 1720’s is amazing, wonderful, an easy sell. Yet, we drag it to show after show, put it online, display it in our storefront, and hold on to it far longer than we anticipated.

Sounds a lot like sitting on a polished manuscript to me.

Ah, but that’s no reason to stop creating: furniture or novels. Eventually, if the piece is strong enough, someone will fall in love with. Hundreds of buyers pass by our booth for every one that stops, inspects, questions, then pulls out the cold hard cash.

I’ll keep writing. I’ll keep putting my work out there to be judged and assessed. What’s the point of creating a piece if I don’t do all I can to get it to the right audience? Even if we have to store the finished pieces for a while, eventually, they all sell.

We’re Moving On Up…

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Authonomy has a ranking system where other authors can back an unpublished book. The higher the novel climbs in the ranking, the more eyes look at it. If it makes it to–and stays in–the Top 5 for a while, it magically gets transported to an Editor’s Desk at Harper Collins.

Beginning as a brand-spanking-newbie two days ago, CAPRITARE: The Cycles Begin started at position 5,334. So far, it has inched up 233 notches, and is currently ranked 5,101.

Here’s to celebrating small achievements, and working our way to the top!

::: raises glass :::

The Gender Genie

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I should be revising my novel. The ABNA contest opens in less than a week. I did tweak my Pitch a bit, and will be editing as soon as this entry is posted.

Discussion threads can be so distracting! Just now, a post led me to Gender Genie which uses an algorithm to analyze a text and guesses the sex of the author. I pasted the first “Cycle” of my novel. Here are the results:

Words: 18431

(NOTE: The genie works best on texts of more than 500 words.)

Female Score: 21692
Male Score: 21345
The Gender Genie thinks the author of this passage is: female!

Apparently, by a narrow margin, I write like a girl…

Novel Word Cloud

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Wordle is an online tool that provides a visual representation of the frequency of words in a given text. I performed the old cut-and-paste of my novel to see what its cloud would look like. Wordle perfomred its tabulating and formatting functions to spit out this visual version of Capritare.

It is interesting to see my novel in this format. I have already begun the process of checking on some of these words to see why they loom so large in the cloud. Alot of “just” iterations have been exorcised! 

Excerpt from CAPRITARE [Cycle 1]

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Alright. I feel like this passage is polished enough to post. Enjoy!

*******
Narrowed eyes told me that others were already planning,strategizing. A six-pointer glared at me. I stared back.
Armidy lifted a large, white stone above his head. Hisarms bulged with the weight of it. The tips of his fifteen-point antlers stretchedhigher than his uplifted hands. I scanned for someone smaller than me–someone I could possibly force to touch the tree.

Armidy slammed down the stone. “Begin!”

Frenzy. There was the instant strain of muscle, bone,and roars. Scattering. My mind whirled. Run! My legs jerked. Catch. Don’t get caught. A tree. Hide. I slid, hit the ground. Lay low.
I could see struggles all around me: large groups wrestling, vying for one another, lone beasts skulking. Locked horns. Bucking hooves. Ferocious eyes. The rotting wetness of the mulch beneath me assaulted my nose. A pair of Yramidians thumped past me. An Esque, captive to their strength, struggled to break free. Her loud screeching echoed off the leaves.
Movement to my left—Neelid. Gasping. He hid with his back against a tree. I peeked out, then crawled to him.

“Cap. This is crazy! I got punched!” He lifted his shirt to reveal a red mark in the shape of a fist burning on his ribs.

“What should we do?” I asked. “Team up and try to get someone?”

“Who? The little ones have already been nabbed.” Neelid hunched lower. “You and I are probably the smallest ones left.”

“So what? We just lay low and wa—?”

I was rising. Jerked. Pressure on my chest. Heat.Tightening. Treetops whizzed overhead. Kick! Kick! I arched my back. Squirmed. Kicked—hard.

Bamm! The hardness of ground. I slowed my racing eyes. The six-pointer was already back up on his knees. His red eyes glowing. His face contorted into every shape of rage.
I leapt up and stumbled to Neelid. “We’ve got to fight him together!”
We stood side-by-side with our backs against a tree.Six lowered his head, cut his eyes up at us, and lunged. Two steps, three. Too quick to dodge.

Pain exploded in my side.

Six pulled back, sliding his antlers out of side. Hot blood ran. He took aim again. I closed my eyes to brace against the pain.

Clash. Clacking of five points on six. Antlers intertwined. A snap like the breaking of a twig. Neelid threw punches with a force beyond his small frame. Searing in my gut. Six scooped Neelid up, slammed him to the ground. Neelid kicked out his legs, knocking Six’s out from under him.

Darkness crept in at the edge of my thoughts.

Booming from afar, “We have our winners! Stop thegame.”

What game? My sight dimmed as Neelid untangledhimself from the six-pointer. White heat shaded with redness blazed at my side.A red vividness streamed out of me. Darkness eclipsed my world with black. Oblivion.

*******

From Book Formatting to Metatron

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On Friday night I participated in the second installment of The Book Loft Literati Prose & Poetry Extravaganza. This is a monthly open-mic of sorts dedicated to local authors, readers & listeners. The interesting thing about open forums such as this, is that they draw a very diverse group of people. There were over two dozen such characters at this last Extravaganza including: four authors who participated in NaNoWriMo, screenplay writers, poets, one fellow who read from a cheesy Elvis-merchandise mailer & an eccentric guy who shared with us the glories of Metatron.

It is always great to be surrounded by others who share your struggles, hope and dreams. These gatherings are perfect for inspiration, feedback and sheer entertainment value. I was inspired by a fellow NaNoWriMo participant to format my manuscript in a two-column rendition that mimics the actual printed page. Seeing the words in that manner helped me to visualize my random string of words as though they were an actual book. Then, once it was in that format, I discovered other structural changes I needed to make: section dividers, chapter headings, margin adjustments. I was quite surprised at how simply switching the look of the layout spurred me on to tweak other elements.

So, I delayed content editing to work on the structure. And that reworking has actually helped me to think of my manuscript from the reader’s point-of-view.

The editing continues. While the structural changes came as a welcomed distraction, I am resisting the urge to research and download photos of the all-powerful Metatron.