Who's In the Details?

I've heard it both ways: God is in the details. The devil in the details. I would imagine that the version you identify with depends on whether or not you have attended to the details!
I am beginning to see that easy part of getting a book sold is the writing of it! For sure, getting a publisher to look at it is not the easy part! There are many how-to books written about getting your book out of the "slush pile" and into hands of an editor or publisher. I have been to many a session on this subject at writer's conferences. And still I feel I lucked into my current relationship. Sure,I kept sending my book off to publishers. I attended to that detail. And I have a little stack of rejection letters that I kept for practicing the formula I learned from one successful author: a rejection letter arrives...you open it, read it quickly for the bottom line, do a little dance in the front hallway and say, "Yes!!! A rejection letter! Now I am one letter closer to getting an acceptance letter!" Do this quickly before any hint of those enemies of progress, those pesky tears of frustration, can appear to muck up your dance. But back to the luck part. I sent my book of to dozens of publishers. I always checked to make sure I had names right. At first I sent the manuscript to one publisher at a time, because that was the way things worked in the olden days (two years ago?). But since many established rules of publishing have gone out the window ( for example, the courtesy on the part of some publishers of any reply whatsoever), I would do my research and mail to multiple publishers at once. And the result of that was that sometimes I got more than one rejection letter on the same day! Such a great opportunity for that dance!
Then one day, a small miracle happened. I got an email from a publisher. Tate Publishing emailed me saying they might be interested in Mad Mad Annabelle Jane. And now I am climbing this learning curve of awesomeness. How a published author becomes a successful author. It can be done, and done by me, I am certain. And we'll just see who is in the details after all!

Little Feathers: The Fun Part

Little Feathers: The Fun Part: The fun part of writing is that moment (usually before I sit down to the keyboard) when thoughts are lining up, begging to be sequenced into...

The Fun Part

The fun part of writing is that moment (usually before I sit down to the keyboard) when thoughts are lining up, begging to be sequenced into something comprehensible. It could be a story. I sometimes enter short story contests because they are just fun. Someone gives a writing prompt like a premise or a list of words, and pow! My brain boots up and a story comes out. I especially love the 1,000 word stories. A thousand word limit gives me elbow room for a bit of character development but not enough space so that I have to leave myself story-line bread crumbs.
And I have to say, I love writing a rhyming story or song lyrics or poems. If I have to stop and make a word rhyme by inverting word order or contriving a sort-of rhyme, I scrap that line. It has to be a story that rhymes, not vice versa. I was really impressed with that notion at the first writer conference I attended a few years ago. The speaker referred to it as "organic rhyming". Instantly my imagine jumped up. Organic would mean no pesticides...which could mean nothing stuck on a word to make it work, like messing up the syllable emphasis. No artificial fertilizers...that could mean no pretending...either it works and it flows and feels good to read, or it doesn't. I am working with a publisher now on a rhyming picture book: Mad Mad Annabelle Jane. I am in the early stages so I have not had contact with the editor yet. But I am really hopeful to get the "Organically Grown" stamp when all is said and done.
I know who Annabelle Jane is. I have a little detector that beeps when I try to make her do something uncharacteristic. And it's a really annoying beep, one I can't ignore. I am hopeful that this relationship with my protagonist will keep us both safe as we head into the editing process. I'll let you know. If I forget, Annabelle will certainly remind me. She is a very persistent girl. Very.

Little Feathers: Fruits of Our Labors.

Little Feathers: Fruits of Our Labors.: I have often said that I am not a multitasker. But we all are. Some of us just like it better than others. Anyone who has raised children kn...

Fruits of Our Labors.

I have often said that I am not a multitasker. But we all are. Some of us just like it better than others. Anyone who has raised children knows there is no such as completing one task at a time. If your child is stuck, your dog has barfed, your car alarm is wailing, your smoke alarm is piercing the air...you drop what you are doing and address the crisis. And sometimes the domino theory predicts that the smoke alarm will go off since the thing you left in order to address the stuckness, the barf or the wailing was the supper on the stove.
Well, I'm going to quit saying I'm not a multitasker. I'll just embrace my instinct for self preservation that yearns for a day of check marks on my to do list. I can't insist on getting things done in order, because that would be like yelling at umpires...fruitless. And it's all about the fruit. The fruit is the reward for the work. So writing projects that never make into the mailbox, on their way to the great publishing house in the sky, are all pruning and no harvest. Even a thoughtful rejection letter is fruit. I learn from it. I guess I learn from the one liner rejection letters, too. Not to waste my stamp on that publisher.
I am excited to be working with a publisher on a picture book right now, though we are in the early stages and the major task at hand is drumming up patience. But hey...patience is fruitful, right? And the narrative poem I wrote with Thomas Pavlechko to weave his Ghoultide Scarols into a story is being performed by several professional and civic groups this fall. Including a production we are mounting ourselves. With choir, orchestra, actors, dancers...the story is coming alive onstage. Fruit!!! And much opportunity for honing that skill of multitasking!

Bumpier Bumps

As I get older, life just gets more interesting. The bumps get bumpier. The sad parts are sadder. It makes sense I guess, because the longer we live, the more loss we experience. Someday I'm going to ask God a couple of questions that really have me wondering. Like, how come the years when we have teenagers in the house is when we tend to begin that long and lovely road to living without estrogen??? And just when we good and depleted of that helpful hormone, many of us begin to lose those people who loved us so unconditionally...our parents. I know we must be grateful if we have a mom and dad who always thought we were amazing and wonderful. I know we must grateful that we have them so many years when they live a long life. But those two things that are blessings indeed also make it very difficult to say goodbye.
I used to think that if I was just a good enough mom, our kids would never struggle. They would get all our positive traits and sail through life without a wrinkle. I used to think that if I was just a good enough daughter, my folks' old age would be a breeze. But here is the really funny thing about that. That would mean that I was responsible for someone life besides my own. When I think of it that way, I see what a trap that is. It's ironically a very self centered way to go through life. I may think I'm being a servant, when I'm really busy trying to pull strings to keep everything and everyone happy. Not only self centered, but very impossible as well.
So, I am working hard on going with the flow. Taking things a day at a time. Working to separate my ego from my best self. If the bumps seem bumpier, I'll just have to hope my shock absorbers are working. About the sad parts...well. We just have to be sad sometimes. Today a good friend of mine wrote the following, and I think it about sums it up:
" That's what life is. It's a banquet and a challenge and a wonderment and a puzzlement and a
blessing and a bit of crap samich."
I'll say thanks for the banquet. Thanks for the challenge because surely it'll make me a better person. Thanks for the wonderment and puzzlement and blessing. And I'll surely live through the crap samich.

Let 'er go, Judy

Anyone who has ever taken their child to their first day of kindergarten knows this feeling. You realize as you leave that school room that there is someone else who will be a tremendous influence on this offspring. The way your little one is looking at their teacher...let's just hope that teacher sees the miracle standing before them, and not just another little body to herd around!
That scene from the past is coming to mind because I am considering letting another offspring go out into the wide world. I got an offer from a publisher for a picture book I've been working on. The little girl in the book is part me, part our daughters, part imagination. And I'm feeling just a slight reluctance to let her go. Will that editor see her for the gem that she is, or just another character to manipulate into a formula? What will be left of my heroine after they are done with her?
Still, I know that there is no stopping the growth of a child. No keeping them from the trials and tribulations, successes and celebrations that will shape their lives. We know when we hold that warm, sweet, perfect baby, blinking in the bright lights of the real world right after they are born that this is a person with a destiny. Now they are apart from us, and though we hold them near for those first few years, the launching pad that will propel them onward, outward and away from us is never far from view.
There really isn't a reason for me to write a book unless I'm willing to send it out there. Risking those rejection slips, risking brief comments from editors who can't see the child for the mismatched clothes. So I guess I'll take the next step and see what happens. She may even grow into something fabulous, like our daughters and son have done. I guess I'll do like my friend Nelle Hudson used to advise. I'll hold the right thought.