We are so playing this at our next game night.
Correction: The ninjas can play. I'll take the pictures.
Of course, now I'm thinking about all of the different games that reach a whole new level of awesome when ninjas play them. Personally, I'm thinking that a ninja game of Red Rover would be AWESOME.
And when the awesome is in capital letters, you know it's really really awesome.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Query Ninja - The Sparkles in the Woods
Okay. For those of you who haven't seen Query Ninja before, here's how it goes. Some brave soul sends me a query. I Madlib the heck out of it (all changed words will be italicized in case YOU want to give some feedback too). Hopefully it is funny, because queries are hard work, and funny makes everything better. And then we all give that person advice.
The most important rule of Query Ninja is not to talk about Query Ninja. Er... wait. That's not right. The most important rule is to be nice to the submitter. Today's submitter is Mason, Agent of Awesomeness. Be nice to him. Send him sparkles.
Here's his query.
Yay, Mason, Agent of Awesome! You have written a query, and you are still sane. That alone is worthy of respect. Woot!
Now, in the past, we've talked about the Church Lady rule, which is to make sure that your query is as special as possible. Today, we're going to talk about the Richard Simmons rule.
Make sure your query is as tight as my heinie.
Think about it this way: Agents get hundreds of queries delivered every week. You need to show them that not only do you have great ideas, but you can deliver them in well-written, Richard's-heinie-esque prose. You can clearly and succinctly communicate what your novel is about. You have a hook that will catch editors' attention.
So how do you do this?
Well, first off, I'd put that book front and center. You start with a statement about why you chose the agent in question. Personally, I'd move that to the end. You're selling your awesome sparkly book. (Sparkle sparkle sparkle!) It is so awesome that you can't wait to tell an agent about it. Look, Jane, look! Look at my book!
Yes, I referenced Dick and Jane. Yes, yes, I am insane.
Yes, I sound like Dr. Seuss on crack.
And then, it's a matter of telling us right away what this book is about. Your first paragraph is mucho witty, but it leads me to believe that this is a book about being stuck in the woods with a maybe-bad witch, some wereducks, and a bunch of sparkles. But later on in the query, it seems like the book is about preventing the invasion and fighting the evil. (Bad evil! No biscuit!) The witch, wereducks, and sparkles are obstacles on the path to accomplishing this goal. Ultimately, I think this is a story about sparkles versus evil, but we don't get that until the end of the third paragraph. Personally, I think that we need to know the central conflict as early as possible, so we can appreciate its awesomeness right away. Anyone else feel otherwise?
I'd also ask yourself whether each story element is essential to your query. You have a lot going on here: witches, wereducks, the High Sparkle, a war, the kidnapping, and the nameless evil. Which of these elements are necessary to tell what your story is about? Maybe they all are, but maybe not. For example, do you need the wereducks? They don't do much in the query; we know that they're hunting Marilyn Manson (and I kinda hope they catch him), but then they disappear. You could potentially use that space to tell us a little more about the nameless evil. Otherwise, you've told us more about the henchmen than the big boss. And it's kind of important for us to understand how big of a threat they're facing.
Don't tease the agent. It's kind of like feeding the animals in the zoo. It's just not good.
Then, I'd go through each sentence with your editor's hat on. Queries are like poetry; every word has to be precise and impeccably chosen because you've got such a small amount of space to capture your reader's attention. So for example, I'd look at your High Sparkle sentence. How is a mythical being going to do something? It's mythical. All it can do is myth around.
I just like to say 'myth.'
Once you've got your book summary down to heinie-tightness, do the same with your background. Ask the tough questions. Do you really need to compare yourself to six authors, or could you cut it down to two impeccably chosen ones? It's interesting that your father is an author, but do you need to list his publishers? Is this the right time to discuss marketing?
That last one is a tough call, but I'm going to argue that it's not. If your platform was a perfect fit for your book, sure. But I'm afraid that I'm just not convinced that fans of your obviously-awesome band will also be YA fantasy readers. Does this mean that the idea should be scrapped? Absolutely not! But if your goal is to get a manuscript request, I think the space would be better used to highlight that manuscript! I'd bring up this idea to your agent after you've signed, and he or she can help you decide what to do with it.
But of course, all of this is my opinion, and I may be full of it. What do the rest of your think? Don't forget to give props to Mason, Agent of Awesome, for being all brave and double-oh-seveney. Seriously, Mason. Thanks for allowing us to discuss the awesomeness that is your query.
The most important rule of Query Ninja is not to talk about Query Ninja. Er... wait. That's not right. The most important rule is to be nice to the submitter. Today's submitter is Mason, Agent of Awesomeness. Be nice to him. Send him sparkles.
Here's his query.
Dear Agent of Sparkliness,
I’m querying you specifically because you are sparkly, and everyone knows that sparkles are awesome.
Getting lost in the woods is always a bad thing, but when there’s a sparkly pack of wereducks hunting you in the service of a sparkly god, you’d better have a witch on your side—unless you’re not sure what side she’s on.
Thirteen-year-old Marilyn Manson, somewhat-spoiled and headstrong, is tired of boring old peace and quiet. But when his father the king elects to join a dangerous and distant war for reasons he can scarcely comprehend, Marilyn finds himself caught in the middle of a hidden power struggle between sparkles and evil that is bigger than the simple strivings of kings and nations.
Oh, and did I mention that he gets lost in the woods?
When he is rescued (or kidnapped) by a strange and dangerous woman who claims to have answers, Marilyn must figure out if he can trust her—and whether he’ll ever be able to escape the woods, avoid the ducks that were once men, and get back home. Marilyn must warn his father about the trap set for him if he hopes to prevent an invasion of all of Hollywood.
But as Marilyn digs deeper, he uncovers secrets entwined within other secrets until he faces a power of evil that has no mercy and no compassion—and it seems as if the High Sparkle, the mythical creator of the universe, is unwilling or unable to do anything to help.
The first in a four-book series, THE SPARKLES IN THE WOODS is an 87,500 word YA fantasy suspense novel that deals with mature sparkly themes such as fate, gender equality, racism, and the disheartening silence of God.
THE SPARKLES IN THE WOODS will appeal to those who wish that Stephen Lawhead, The Trix Rabbit and C.S. Lewis could team up with Neil Gaiman, Garth Nix and Count Chocula.
My marketing platform is unique and sparkly. I am the lead singer of the quickly rising alternative rock band Sparkle Sparkle Sparkle. To market the book I will aggressively piggyback a book tour onto the band’s tour schedule. In other words, I’m not just going to do virtual or blog tours.
The finished manuscript is available upon request. (In the interest of disclosure, the publishers Sparkletown and Sparklehouse have already requested full proposals & partials. In addition I have queried [two] other agents.)
As a very brief biographical note: I was raised in Hell, Michigan, educated in Oompa-Loompaville (Theology and Philosophy) and now currently reside in my house. In addition, my father, Batman, is a prolific author who has been published by Superhouse, Wonder Press, Flash USA, Jokerbury, and many others. THE SPARKLES IN THE WOODS is my first novel.
Best regards,
Mason, Agent of Awesome
Yay, Mason, Agent of Awesome! You have written a query, and you are still sane. That alone is worthy of respect. Woot!
Now, in the past, we've talked about the Church Lady rule, which is to make sure that your query is as special as possible. Today, we're going to talk about the Richard Simmons rule.
Make sure your query is as tight as my heinie.Think about it this way: Agents get hundreds of queries delivered every week. You need to show them that not only do you have great ideas, but you can deliver them in well-written, Richard's-heinie-esque prose. You can clearly and succinctly communicate what your novel is about. You have a hook that will catch editors' attention.
So how do you do this?
Well, first off, I'd put that book front and center. You start with a statement about why you chose the agent in question. Personally, I'd move that to the end. You're selling your awesome sparkly book. (Sparkle sparkle sparkle!) It is so awesome that you can't wait to tell an agent about it. Look, Jane, look! Look at my book!
Yes, I referenced Dick and Jane. Yes, yes, I am insane.
Yes, I sound like Dr. Seuss on crack.
And then, it's a matter of telling us right away what this book is about. Your first paragraph is mucho witty, but it leads me to believe that this is a book about being stuck in the woods with a maybe-bad witch, some wereducks, and a bunch of sparkles. But later on in the query, it seems like the book is about preventing the invasion and fighting the evil. (Bad evil! No biscuit!) The witch, wereducks, and sparkles are obstacles on the path to accomplishing this goal. Ultimately, I think this is a story about sparkles versus evil, but we don't get that until the end of the third paragraph. Personally, I think that we need to know the central conflict as early as possible, so we can appreciate its awesomeness right away. Anyone else feel otherwise?
I'd also ask yourself whether each story element is essential to your query. You have a lot going on here: witches, wereducks, the High Sparkle, a war, the kidnapping, and the nameless evil. Which of these elements are necessary to tell what your story is about? Maybe they all are, but maybe not. For example, do you need the wereducks? They don't do much in the query; we know that they're hunting Marilyn Manson (and I kinda hope they catch him), but then they disappear. You could potentially use that space to tell us a little more about the nameless evil. Otherwise, you've told us more about the henchmen than the big boss. And it's kind of important for us to understand how big of a threat they're facing.
Don't tease the agent. It's kind of like feeding the animals in the zoo. It's just not good.
Then, I'd go through each sentence with your editor's hat on. Queries are like poetry; every word has to be precise and impeccably chosen because you've got such a small amount of space to capture your reader's attention. So for example, I'd look at your High Sparkle sentence. How is a mythical being going to do something? It's mythical. All it can do is myth around.
I just like to say 'myth.'
Once you've got your book summary down to heinie-tightness, do the same with your background. Ask the tough questions. Do you really need to compare yourself to six authors, or could you cut it down to two impeccably chosen ones? It's interesting that your father is an author, but do you need to list his publishers? Is this the right time to discuss marketing?
That last one is a tough call, but I'm going to argue that it's not. If your platform was a perfect fit for your book, sure. But I'm afraid that I'm just not convinced that fans of your obviously-awesome band will also be YA fantasy readers. Does this mean that the idea should be scrapped? Absolutely not! But if your goal is to get a manuscript request, I think the space would be better used to highlight that manuscript! I'd bring up this idea to your agent after you've signed, and he or she can help you decide what to do with it.
But of course, all of this is my opinion, and I may be full of it. What do the rest of your think? Don't forget to give props to Mason, Agent of Awesome, for being all brave and double-oh-seveney. Seriously, Mason. Thanks for allowing us to discuss the awesomeness that is your query.
Monday, September 28, 2009
A Confession, and Some Awesomeness
First off, I have a confession to make. This weekend, I killed Faramir, Elmer Fudd, Billy Crystal, and Josh Hartnett. It was game night on Friday. We have this board game called Marry, Date, Dump. We've talked about the game before; I think I told you that we play a more grown up version, which is marry, spendqualityalonetime, kill. And I had to choose between Aragorn, Legolas and Faramir.
Of course I married Aragorn. I wouldn't want to marry someone with prettier hair than me.
That was only slightly less traumatizing than the round during which I had to choose between Elmer Fudd, the Keebler Elf, and the Mayor of Munchkinland. This became even more traumatizing when my friend The Electric Lovitz started doing famous movie roles as played by the Mayor of Munchkinland. Then he switched to Forrest Gump as the bad guy from Silence of the Lambs.
"It puts the lotion on its skin, Jen-nay."
And we wonder why I turned out the way I did. Seriously, if I can ever figure out that whole YouTube video posting thing, I'm going to talk him into doing that for the cameras. Because it's freaking hilarious.
In the category of Awesomeness, I have something to show you. You may recall that I was incredibly excited for Kiersten's amazing three book deal. I walked around for weeks telling people about it and claiming that I was going to ride her coattails to fame. (She has since notified me that she does not wear coats and maybe I should consider riding her flip flops instead.) Anyway, my ranting has inspired art.
I feel so freaking kewl.
Here it is, courtesy of aMadArtist:
I so want to put this on my wall.
Of course I married Aragorn. I wouldn't want to marry someone with prettier hair than me.
That was only slightly less traumatizing than the round during which I had to choose between Elmer Fudd, the Keebler Elf, and the Mayor of Munchkinland. This became even more traumatizing when my friend The Electric Lovitz started doing famous movie roles as played by the Mayor of Munchkinland. Then he switched to Forrest Gump as the bad guy from Silence of the Lambs.
"It puts the lotion on its skin, Jen-nay."
And we wonder why I turned out the way I did. Seriously, if I can ever figure out that whole YouTube video posting thing, I'm going to talk him into doing that for the cameras. Because it's freaking hilarious.
In the category of Awesomeness, I have something to show you. You may recall that I was incredibly excited for Kiersten's amazing three book deal. I walked around for weeks telling people about it and claiming that I was going to ride her coattails to fame. (She has since notified me that she does not wear coats and maybe I should consider riding her flip flops instead.) Anyway, my ranting has inspired art.
I feel so freaking kewl.
Here it is, courtesy of aMadArtist:
I so want to put this on my wall.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Geeking Out Star Wars Style
Happy Friday. 'Scuse me while I geek out.
I know the last one isn't Star Wars, but it made me laugh so hard.
I know the last one isn't Star Wars, but it made me laugh so hard.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
The Most Awesome Question in the World
Just in case you missed it, a little more than a week ago, I put out a general call for questions. I like to answer questions. It makes me feel like I'm on a game show, and I might win something. I like winning things too.
One time, I won a little statue of a skeleton in a chicken costume. And really, it doesn't get much better than that.
Anyway, I received the question to end all questions. The Question of Awesome. I'm inducting ElanaJ into the Semi-Secret Order of the Blog Ninja just by virtue of the sheer awesomeness that is this question. Do I have you intrigued? Here's the question:
First, let's take a moment to appreciate the sheer awesomeness of this question. Elana, clearly, GETS me. Frankly, I'm thinking that she ought to be my official interviewer, because really, I can answer questions like, "Where do you get your ideas?" and such, but I really excel at choosing between survival via sparkly vampire, zombie in tin foil blanket, and Teletubby. It's just how I roll.
But what about me? Don't I get to be on the island?
Richard! Um, no, the question asks about vampires, zombies, and Teletubbies. You're not in this question.
But I have skills! Look, I can put my leg behind my head.
You're the spokesperson of my blog. Who's going to maintain my blog while I'm marooned? And besides, putting your leg behind your head isn't a survival skill.
It is too a survival skill.
I do not want to know. I'm not going to ask.
Who am I kidding? Of course I'm going to ask. How on earth is putting your leg behind your head a survival skill?
If your leg was possessed, you could put it behind your head for safekeeping. I'm speaking theoretically, of course. That's never happened to me. Never.
Your leg was possessed?
Um, no. What gave you that idea?
Just a hunch.
Okay, we're totally off topic here. If I was marooned on a desert island, I would send a telepathic message to Richard to take care of the Wonder That Is My Blog, and to Batman to tell him to beware his evil possessed leg. And then I would ask Edward to steal the tin foil blanket and kill the Teletubby and the zombies, because the Teletubby would drive me nuts, and the zombie would eventually start to stink.
Besides, Edward sparkles. And everyone knows that sparkles are an essential part of every survival kit.
I can't disagree with that.
One time, I won a little statue of a skeleton in a chicken costume. And really, it doesn't get much better than that.
Anyway, I received the question to end all questions. The Question of Awesome. I'm inducting ElanaJ into the Semi-Secret Order of the Blog Ninja just by virtue of the sheer awesomeness that is this question. Do I have you intrigued? Here's the question:
Okay. Let's say you were marooned on a desert island. You hike around a little, only to spot Edward and Bella in the top of a tree. After shielding your eyes against the dazzling sheen from his skin in the sunlight, you move on, totally over THAT.
From your position on top of a hill (yes, you climbed it) you spot a colony of zombies. They're all sleeping because it's daytime, but you know they're zombies. They have brains lying by the fire.
You decide to head back to the beach, thinking that the more distance between you and zombieville, the better. You spot Tinky Winky peeking at you from behind a tree. Afraid to even go there you sprint back to the beach, where somehow, they're all waiting for you.
Edward (sans Bella, thank goodness).
The zombie clan leader, somehow protected from the sun with a tin foil blanket.
And Tinky Winky.
You can choose one of them to help you get off the island. Or for life-long companionship. Or whatever.
Who do you choose? And why??
First, let's take a moment to appreciate the sheer awesomeness of this question. Elana, clearly, GETS me. Frankly, I'm thinking that she ought to be my official interviewer, because really, I can answer questions like, "Where do you get your ideas?" and such, but I really excel at choosing between survival via sparkly vampire, zombie in tin foil blanket, and Teletubby. It's just how I roll.
But what about me? Don't I get to be on the island?Richard! Um, no, the question asks about vampires, zombies, and Teletubbies. You're not in this question.
But I have skills! Look, I can put my leg behind my head.You're the spokesperson of my blog. Who's going to maintain my blog while I'm marooned? And besides, putting your leg behind your head isn't a survival skill.
It is too a survival skill.I do not want to know. I'm not going to ask.
Who am I kidding? Of course I'm going to ask. How on earth is putting your leg behind your head a survival skill?
If your leg was possessed, you could put it behind your head for safekeeping. I'm speaking theoretically, of course. That's never happened to me. Never.Your leg was possessed?
Um, no. What gave you that idea?Just a hunch.
Okay, we're totally off topic here. If I was marooned on a desert island, I would send a telepathic message to Richard to take care of the Wonder That Is My Blog, and to Batman to tell him to beware his evil possessed leg. And then I would ask Edward to steal the tin foil blanket and kill the Teletubby and the zombies, because the Teletubby would drive me nuts, and the zombie would eventually start to stink.
Besides, Edward sparkles. And everyone knows that sparkles are an essential part of every survival kit.
I can't disagree with that.Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Bring on Those Snexy Tattoos
Tattoos crack me up. My grandfather was a tattooed motorcycle-riding mechanic; his tattoo was done by one of his friends and I never had the heart to tell him that it looked vaguely like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. The fact that it had "Mom" underneath it only made it funnier. My uncle is also a tattooed motorcyclist, but he also happens to be 6'8", and at that height, you can have tattoos of Gumby in drag and I won't make fun of you. Probably the sound would evaporate before it reached your ears anyway.
There was a girl in one of my college dance classes that had this really wonky tattoo that you could see when she wore a leotard. On one breast, she had a full moon. On the other? A howling wolf. I never could get over the fact that her breasts howled at each other. I'm sure everyone in that class thought I was certifiable, because I kept cracking up at random moments.
Slayer and I have been playing Guitar Hero together, which is pretty funny because I have the hands of a seven year old. Seriously, I think someone in the body assemblage plant was cutting their PCP with Clorox, because they made me fairly tall and then gave me tiny little hands and feet. So I can't reach all the buttons on Guitar Hero.
Translation: I suck. Big time.
But we decided that I'd make his rock star, and he'd make mine. So on Guitar Hero, I now wear the most painful-looking pair of Daisy Dukes in the known universe. (I've heard that Daisy Dukes are all the fashion on Betelgeuse 5, though, so I can't prove that.) He has a huge tattoo of a zombie hand in the universal rocking out position on his chest, and a pompadour.
I can't be the only person in the world that thinks that sexy. And snarfy.
Snexy.
There was a girl in one of my college dance classes that had this really wonky tattoo that you could see when she wore a leotard. On one breast, she had a full moon. On the other? A howling wolf. I never could get over the fact that her breasts howled at each other. I'm sure everyone in that class thought I was certifiable, because I kept cracking up at random moments.
Slayer and I have been playing Guitar Hero together, which is pretty funny because I have the hands of a seven year old. Seriously, I think someone in the body assemblage plant was cutting their PCP with Clorox, because they made me fairly tall and then gave me tiny little hands and feet. So I can't reach all the buttons on Guitar Hero.
Translation: I suck. Big time.
But we decided that I'd make his rock star, and he'd make mine. So on Guitar Hero, I now wear the most painful-looking pair of Daisy Dukes in the known universe. (I've heard that Daisy Dukes are all the fashion on Betelgeuse 5, though, so I can't prove that.) He has a huge tattoo of a zombie hand in the universal rocking out position on his chest, and a pompadour.
I can't be the only person in the world that thinks that sexy. And snarfy.
Snexy.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
My Zombie-Strewn Road to Publication
Alright. I promised the inspirational road to publication story, and here it is.
I decided that I wanted to be a writer in 1994. (Fer real.) My big problem was that I didn't know what I wanted to write. I started out with poetry. (Fer real.) A few of my poems went out into the big wide world, like "Slumber Party with the Pope" and "Taming the Unicorn," if by "big wide world" you mean Toledo because those first publications were local press sorts of things. I fervently wished that I looked good in a beret, because that is what poets are supposed to wear. (Fer real, and don't you wish I'd stop saying that?)
Something about the shape of my head is not beret-compatible. It's not pretentious enough.
I didn't fit in with the poets. The rest of me wasn't pretentous-shaped either. So I moved on to plays. My play "Why Nubile Young Women Make Fabulous Kidnappers" was produced on a real honest-to-goodness stage. My favorite part was where they dumped all the snacks on the floor about two lines before they had to eat them.
Whoopsie.
Anyway, that was fun, but it didn't feel right either. I wrote a screenplay. I wrote role playing books on spec. I wrote a NaNo novel that started out as a fantasy satire and ended up as a political satire. I was just happy that I finished the darned thing. And then I wrote a book about a mother who performed an exorcism on her own son.
Yeah, can you say 'dark'?
None of these things fit me, and finally, idiot me sat back and asked myself what I like to read, and what I want to write rather than what I thought I should write if I wanted people to take me seriously. That's when I realized that I don't want people to take me seriously at all, because my favorite books are the ones that make me laugh. And damnit, I like YA, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.
This was about a month after my twins were born, and I started my first YA manny then. It took about four months to write; I learned how to feed the girls with my feet so I could type too. You think I'm kidding, but I'm not. I joined a critique group that helped me maintain my sleep-deprived sanity. I wrote and obsessed and wrote some more. And when I finished it, it didn't suck. It made one of my critique partners snarf soda all over her keyboard. That compliment alone had me floating for days.
I started to query, and the manuscript requests started to pour in fast. I was convinced that I was hot bleep. And maybe I was, but even hot bleep needs to find the right home. I got a lot of "I love this, but I have too many superhero books," and the usual "I love this, but it's not right for me."
And then, my dream agent requested the manny. Kate represents Maureen Johnson, and I pretty much slept with Devilish underneath my pillow for a while. Devilish convinced me that there might be a market for my brand of supernaturally tinged silly. She requested the full. She offered representation. I cried when I got the email, because I am at heart a big overemotional wuss.
That, and I'd been working toward that call for 14 bleeping years.
When I signed with Kate, I was thrilled. We got a lot of great feedback on that first book and more close calls than I can count. But I had a lot to learn as a writer, and in the meantime I'd started a new manuscript about how a completely rational person could come to the conclusion that zombies exist. Poor Slayer got mercilessly pimped for information about theoretical zombie viruses. There was copious staggering around the Harris household while I tried to envision the fight scenes. I perfected the zombie moan.
No Pain went out on submission. I got an offer almost one year to the day from when I signed with Kate. I left a completely incomprehensible message on Slayer's phone and met him out on the front step. His first words? "I told you so."
Awesome.
But here's the point of this whole overlong saga: Don't give up. Because I'm looking back at those 15 long, neurosis-filled years, and I have to say that they were worth it. Just keep working at your craft. Those stories that you see about overnight offers are very much in the minority; people who work in publishing are so god-awful swamped from what I can see that I wonder that they are still sane. So even when you do get an agent, you may or may not be doing some major waiting. This is not because you suck, or because there is a secret agent and editor coalition in which they take clandestine bets on which author will crack under the pressure first. It's because they're short-staffed and swamped under a manuscript tsunami. If you are just starting out, please bear this in mind. Be kind to agents and editors. They are on your side. They do not work for the zombies.
And really, it's a matter of clarifying what you want. I am not an overnight sensation. But I am a professional writer. Zombie-obsessed. Prone to kookiness. But professional as all get out, and I'm darned proud of it.
Don't worry. We'll be back to our regularly scheduled nonsense tomorrow.
I decided that I wanted to be a writer in 1994. (Fer real.) My big problem was that I didn't know what I wanted to write. I started out with poetry. (Fer real.) A few of my poems went out into the big wide world, like "Slumber Party with the Pope" and "Taming the Unicorn," if by "big wide world" you mean Toledo because those first publications were local press sorts of things. I fervently wished that I looked good in a beret, because that is what poets are supposed to wear. (Fer real, and don't you wish I'd stop saying that?)
Something about the shape of my head is not beret-compatible. It's not pretentious enough.
I didn't fit in with the poets. The rest of me wasn't pretentous-shaped either. So I moved on to plays. My play "Why Nubile Young Women Make Fabulous Kidnappers" was produced on a real honest-to-goodness stage. My favorite part was where they dumped all the snacks on the floor about two lines before they had to eat them.
Whoopsie.
Anyway, that was fun, but it didn't feel right either. I wrote a screenplay. I wrote role playing books on spec. I wrote a NaNo novel that started out as a fantasy satire and ended up as a political satire. I was just happy that I finished the darned thing. And then I wrote a book about a mother who performed an exorcism on her own son.
Yeah, can you say 'dark'?
None of these things fit me, and finally, idiot me sat back and asked myself what I like to read, and what I want to write rather than what I thought I should write if I wanted people to take me seriously. That's when I realized that I don't want people to take me seriously at all, because my favorite books are the ones that make me laugh. And damnit, I like YA, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.
This was about a month after my twins were born, and I started my first YA manny then. It took about four months to write; I learned how to feed the girls with my feet so I could type too. You think I'm kidding, but I'm not. I joined a critique group that helped me maintain my sleep-deprived sanity. I wrote and obsessed and wrote some more. And when I finished it, it didn't suck. It made one of my critique partners snarf soda all over her keyboard. That compliment alone had me floating for days.
I started to query, and the manuscript requests started to pour in fast. I was convinced that I was hot bleep. And maybe I was, but even hot bleep needs to find the right home. I got a lot of "I love this, but I have too many superhero books," and the usual "I love this, but it's not right for me."
And then, my dream agent requested the manny. Kate represents Maureen Johnson, and I pretty much slept with Devilish underneath my pillow for a while. Devilish convinced me that there might be a market for my brand of supernaturally tinged silly. She requested the full. She offered representation. I cried when I got the email, because I am at heart a big overemotional wuss.
That, and I'd been working toward that call for 14 bleeping years.
When I signed with Kate, I was thrilled. We got a lot of great feedback on that first book and more close calls than I can count. But I had a lot to learn as a writer, and in the meantime I'd started a new manuscript about how a completely rational person could come to the conclusion that zombies exist. Poor Slayer got mercilessly pimped for information about theoretical zombie viruses. There was copious staggering around the Harris household while I tried to envision the fight scenes. I perfected the zombie moan.
No Pain went out on submission. I got an offer almost one year to the day from when I signed with Kate. I left a completely incomprehensible message on Slayer's phone and met him out on the front step. His first words? "I told you so."
Awesome.
But here's the point of this whole overlong saga: Don't give up. Because I'm looking back at those 15 long, neurosis-filled years, and I have to say that they were worth it. Just keep working at your craft. Those stories that you see about overnight offers are very much in the minority; people who work in publishing are so god-awful swamped from what I can see that I wonder that they are still sane. So even when you do get an agent, you may or may not be doing some major waiting. This is not because you suck, or because there is a secret agent and editor coalition in which they take clandestine bets on which author will crack under the pressure first. It's because they're short-staffed and swamped under a manuscript tsunami. If you are just starting out, please bear this in mind. Be kind to agents and editors. They are on your side. They do not work for the zombies.
And really, it's a matter of clarifying what you want. I am not an overnight sensation. But I am a professional writer. Zombie-obsessed. Prone to kookiness. But professional as all get out, and I'm darned proud of it.
Don't worry. We'll be back to our regularly scheduled nonsense tomorrow.
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