Today was a good day.
Since my novel is finished, I have entered that terrible limbo where I must crawl over first-timer-mines and hack barbed wire. Which generally means a ton of Miss Snark and honest-to-god, paper-and-ink book research! Papercuts and all. Want me to summarize what I've learned for you all?
Write good.
Ouch, that actually hurt to type. But seriously, people, if you write well and beyond that have a story to tell, the only thing standing in your way is....well, you.
Though the book I linked you to is called Writer's Guide to Book Editors, Publishers and Literary Agents, that's not really the order in which you should go. First, I think competant writers should be able to edit themselves until they are cross-eyed. It just shows a dedication to your work that is necessary in perfecting your craft. If you're not reading your novel 20 times by the time you hand it off to someone else, there's something wrong with you. That's not to say to skip editors. Oh no, my friends. Editors are your salvation. Love your editor. It's just that they should come later, unless you saw no problem with my "write good" sentence above, in which case, get an editor quick! Otherwise, edit your own piece to death until you have an agent. Once you have decided it's perfect, step away and realize that there's no way in hell that it's perfect. Come back, look at it, and decide whether it's worthy. That's a better starting place. Now sit down and research. Not editors. Not publishers but literary agents. Yes, Publishers will sometimes publish someone with an agent but it's rare. Extremely rare. Like the Plague rare. Most places won't even consider you or your work without an agent. Rightfully so. If you can't even convince one person to take the risk by believing in you, why the hell should a publishing house invest anything in you?
So, research literary agents. Don't just send off your stuff to any agent you find. No, research them as people. What works are they interested in? More importantly, what are they expressly NOT interested in? A good tool for this is that book I linked to. And it'd be a good idea to read between the lines. For example, an agent that expressly says, "no satanic trash!" well, you would probably be right to assume that this agent might not be the right one to represent your gay fiction. Yes, "satanic trash" might mean a book about satanism that is trash, but most likely, it's hinting at a background that might not be so thrilled to receive the manuscript for When Harry Met Sam.
Also, number one rule to remember is that you should not be paying an agent. Ever. An agent should only make money when you make money. Meaning, a good agent receives 15% of the sale. That covers all the expenses they undertook trying to sell it too. So, if an agent asks a reading fee, trash 'em. If they ask for you to pay any sort of fee, trash 'em. If they ask you to pay for every copy they send out for consideration, every envelope, the cost of ink, trash 'em. Hell, if they refer you to one specific editor, trash 'em. In all of those cases, the agent is either stupid and unlikely to sell your work, or immoral and getting paid by taking on your work and nickle-and-diming you instead of selling your work. After all, why the hell should they try to get you published if they are earning money by sending you a bill every month? Or if they are sending you and every writer that comes to their door to a specific editor who gives them money for referrels? No, the golden rule is, the agent doesn't get paid until you do and then it's only 15%. No exceptions, people. The internet has helped writers but it's also helped hacks.
Now, when you write a query letter, try not to spend pages summarizing your plot blow-by-blow. Ugh. Don't spend pages telling them how great you are, how great your novel is, how much your friends love it. Don't blow your ego. But don't grab your tail between your legs and say, "Oh, Ma'am, I have no idea how this works. I think my work is really nice and I'd be just so amazingly honored if you would read it, Ma'am. By the way, I love your shoes. Oh, and I piddled in the corner." Be professional. Be straight-forward. Don't say shit you can't back-up. Tell them what makes your work special and any specific, special background you have that would reflect on the piece. But don't tell them that your book is going to cure cancer.
And for god's sake, don't send a form query letter. Would you want to pay special attention to someone who refers to you as "To whom it may concern" or some other meaningless and faceless greeting? No. You'll just get a form refusal letter in reply. You're still likely to get one but writers love form letters; it helps us feel like we're real artists, struggling against the faceless Man keeping us down.
Also, SASE means Self-Addressed Stamped Envelope. Always send one. Even if they don't specifically request it. At worst, you'll waste a couple dimes. At best, you just saved the chances for your manuscript.
Anyways, that's all I have to say about this for now. Time for ibuprofen and tea before again continuing on with the dangerous and likely tragic search for my literary agent.
To send you off, here's a quote from one agent that just tickles me pink.
From Writer's Guide to Book Editors, Publishers, and Literary Agents:
Reading-fee Policy: No reading fee as such. We do, however, request a bush-league, small potato, hardly worth mentioning but ever so popular contribution to our efforts of $20 per submission, which in the past has been used to pay for guard dogs to keep other agents away from our authors, to send those delightfully tacky pens and coasters that publishers like so much, and to pay for all those cocktails at the pools in Palm Springs and Las Vegas where we do our reading (eat your hearts out, you agents who winter in New York). Seriously, each year we receive more and more submissions, and to give each one the time it deserves increases our overhead dramatically. Now, unfortunately, we have also had to purchase haz-mat outfits for all of our staff, body armor, and air testing technology and that's just for the guard dogs. We are now requiring that each submission bear the words on the outside of your envelope, "check enclosed." This is to entice our staff to take the chance on opening your submission. Submissions without these words on the outside fo the envelope are subject to immediate destruction, without return of the contents. If ou do not have a rich aunt, a trust fund, or a three-car garage and cannot afford this fee, we suggest you contact another agent, as we are extremely choosy and now, as you can tell, also somewhat paranoid about opening the mail.
-Sebastian Gibson
Can you tell most ligitimate literary agents find it insulting to even suggest they ask for a reading-fee? Yeah, have to say I love this guy. Funny dude. I'm half-tempted to send along a doggie treat in the query letter for the haz-mat clad guard dogs.
-Just googled the guy and found him on P&E. Predators and Editors is a great site. Just goes to show you that you must RESEARCH your agents thoroughly. Damn, I'm disappointed in him. He sounded so funny. But apparently he was serious on the reading-fee which is NEVER funny. Still, you see why he was so confusing on responding to that. Because saying "Reading-fee policy: Yes" is a big no-no.
here would be the two songs for this act:
Since we lost Wrangler (something I still really can't fully talk about) we've kept our eyes on Craigslist and the local shelters. Though Rain does not have the history I do, she understood that since my first memory, I've always had dogs. It's built into my psyche. Not only do I feel unsafe without them but...the loss of that leaves me feeling not quite whole. So though we just lost Wrangler, we understood that Maddie still has mouth cancer and it is an inevitability that we will lose her as well. We wanted to take in another dog before that happens. That way, Maddie would help keep the new dog in line and when that terrible time comes that we have to put her down because the tumor is too large in her mouth, we'll be forced to not close ourselves off. After all, that dog would be there to remind us that though the loss is substantial, the relationships are worthwhile.
With that in mind, we had been looking forward to the Super Adoption event that was held this last Saturday. Shelters from all around the area would bring hundreds of cats and dogs to the event, already spayed, microchipped, and ready to go home. Because Rain worked the night before, Tabby and I took my sis and we went and looked for ourselves first. At first, I was disappointed since there were very few dogs that met what we were looking for. We wanted a large breed dog because I've never liked small dogs and we wanted a senior, because they tend to be so well mannered already and so few people are willing to even consider them. The problem was that the shelters were bringing only the dogs they thought most likely to be adopted. That meant small and young. I only saw one dog there that they admitted was a senior (out of hundreds, remember) and there was perhaps three or four that would qualify for our definition of large (80 pounds or so). On our first round, we were just looking for what was available. A little dog with an adorable face caught our attention the first time but we still went around the second time. I asked the staff after possible dogs left at the shelters that would meet our hopes. There were exceedingly few. One was a golden lab that was undergoing heartworm treatment, the exact same thing that we just lost Wrangler to. The staff woman tried to write it off as being something minor, though the dog had just begun, and in some ways I was angry because it belittled the loss and the threat these dogs represent to the community but I was also saddened because I have been hearing more and more about other heartworm cases. The main reason we put Wrangler down when we did was because his threat to the community. But because of the dogs being brought here after Katrina and the laxadaisical attitude people hold for its seriousness, it looks to be spreading anyway.
We would have left then but I remembered that small dog that had caught our eye. Within a few short minutes he had won our hearts. He is much smaller then any dog I'd usually consider, though some referred to him as large. He's 25 pounds and they told us he was 8 months old. In many ways, he was the opposite of everything we were looking for. But there was something in his eyes. We ended up adopting him. Soon after, we found out that in fact, he was not 8 months, that he was much closer to 5 1/2 months. That's the youngest dog my family has had since I was 11 and a rott pup followed me home. Also, he has the promise of getting much larger. Perhaps 4 inches taller and 20 pounds heavier, which makes us happy. He's really adorable and though he and Maddie had a rough beginning, they now get alone splendidly. He has yet to show very bad habits beyond a tendency to be mouthy when playing and jump up toward the table when there's food.
We will have him tested for heartworm ASAP.
In good news, something strange has happened with Maddie's tumor. It seems to have receeded. It no longer looks angry and she can close her mouth all the way again. It seems to be pulling away from the jaw and though it sound weird, it looks like if it continues to do that....that it'd fall off. It's the oddest thing but where the molar used to be almost fully encased, the tumor has pulled back, exposing the whole thing and allowing the top teeth to clench without causing problem. We tried to get a picture but were unable to. It seems very possible that the doxy (antibiotic) we're giving her is helping. Wouldn't that be an irony? That the simple med that was the first, supposedly-easy step for treating Wrangler, and the reason he had to be put down, might actually extend Maddie's life, something that we were told was little more than impossible?
We'll see.
Pics.
What is one thing you MUST do before you go to bed at night?
Take off my bra. Otherwise, the evil spirits that live in the underwire strangle me in my sleep. They are a vindictive lot.
