Feeling the Tension

I’m once again querying, sending out a manuscript and all the trimmings to agents looking to see if any of them want to represent my book.

It’s a nerve-wracking proposition, especially as I have had no luck so far with getting agents to look. It’s difficult putting one’s best work out there, not knowing if this time it will get some traction. Face it, rejection is difficult to face, and no, I am not used to it.

I’ve sent ten queries out today and I don’t expect to hear from any of them today, as it’s Sunday. Tomorrow, the early rejectors will reply, and I will wait on the others as I send out more queries. I’ve done this before.

I have made some important changes to this version, some having to do with grammar throughout and the more important ones having to do with something I should never have attempted with the story.

Wish me luck!

Photo by Miguel u00c1. Padriu00f1u00e1n on Pexels.com

Staying Positive

I deleted my last entry because it was not very positive. I was writing about the querying process, and like many others who have gone through the process, I was dwelling on past rejections and declaring failure before anyone even read my queries.

For those of you who are not writers, querying is a formalized process for authors to court potential agents. The author assembles a packet according to the agent’s instructions, which usually includes a biography, a cover letter, and an excerpt to a book. Other things might be asked for, like comp (comparable) titles, a pitch (a one line teaser for the book) or “where do you get your ideas?”

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To query, one must become accustomed to rejection. It is certainly not recommended to those with tender feelings or those without a growth mindset. Even now that I’ve done this before, my optimism is tempered with a cautious self-protection.

I have sent out 10 queries for the book Prodigies, which is a New Adult contemporary fantasy. I have revised this book a great deal from the first time, having learned more about the shape of a novel.

Wish me luck.

What I Did Today

I’m writing late today mostly because I got sick this morning. It’s a work-at-home day, and I’ve been working at home between trips to the bathroom. I’ll take my temp in a few minutes to see if I should worry.

However, I also wrote a synopsis for Prodigies, a novel I feel compelled to query because of the change of branding from fantasy to New Adult fantasy. It fits better there because it’s kind of a coming of age novel, with the teen protagonist having to navigate uncomfortable truths about her life.

Here’s the synopsis:

Grace Silverstein, an eighteen-year-old viola prodigy at a prestigious high school for the arts, flies to Poland to participate in an international assembly. Her hosts, including Dominika Wojcik and her young daughter Anastasja, plan to kidnap and coerce the prodigies under a flimsy mask of hospitality. Grace discovers that one prodigy, Ichirou Shimizu, has a preternatural talent for manipulating moods through his graphic designs. When the evening banquet takes on menacing undertones, Grace finds a friend and protector in Lord Mayor Przemyslaw Przybyszewski, who helps Grace and Ichirou escape from the hotel. With the help of a small handful of strangers, find an all-night pierogi place to hide in. Ichirou’s chaperone, Ayana Hashimoto, smuggles the two out of the country with the help of her mysterious accomplice. On their journey cross-Europe, Grace finds Ayana disturbing and Ichirou cute and annoying, and everyone seems to be keeping secrets. The three part ways at Copenhagen, and Grace dodges the hosts’ accomplices with the help of Ayana’s secret partner, Grzegorz Koslowski, another talented person who played most of the helpful strangers. He protects her until she catches her flight home.

Back in the US, Grace’s ordeal becomes a memory as she clings to her alma mater and takes a gap year before college. Then Ichirou and Ayana arrive from Japan to warn Grace that the foreign agents from her trip to Poland, as well as Homeland Security, close in on Grace and her compatriots. They fight with the vice president and president of the school, Estelle DeWinter and Beau Boren until they release Grace from her job with the school. Startled by the news and by Ichirou’s transformation into a tall, handsome teen, Grace has no idea why anyone pursues her, as she has no talent like Ichirou does. She goes with Ayana and Ichirou anyhow.

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While on the run, the three find refuge in a cabin secured by Grzegorz, who Ayana has not yet met; Grace will not reveal his identity.  Ichirou helps Grace discover her own talent of manipulating emotions through her beloved music. Grace realizes that she has always sensed her talent, but that the acknowledgment of her ability leaves her in doubt as to the ethics behind her augmented performances. Eventually, on the way back from Lakeview to copy music for Grace to practice her talent with, the three are ambushed by a sharpshooter who shoots Grace in the chest. Grzegorz heals her, revealing his dramatic talent, and Grace is left to ponder the miracle that brought her back to life. Ichirou helps her cope by making a soothing graphics video which helps her sleep – but brings her into the space she found when she was dying. When she has recovered enough, Grace and the others discuss the costs of using their talents too often, to discover that Grace and Ichirou endanger themselves if they use their talents too much.

The four – Ayana, Ichirou, Grzegorz (called Greg) and Grace – now are on the run again. They go to an empty cafe, where they access a working group on the Dark Web with Greg’s credentials. There, they are confronted by the proprietor of the café, who identifies himself as Weissrogue, a legendary white-hat hacker. He convinces Grace to use her talent on him, because he doubts that he has ever felt sad. After she does so, Greg rages at her and runs outside. Grace follows him, and he kisses her, then pushes her away, and Grace gets the impression that Greg is deeply damaged. Ichirou balks, feeling jealousy toward Greg and Grace. When looking through the site, Renaissance Theory, the group finds that the children with talents which have been carefully schooled (such as themselves) are called Renaissance Children, and that the group from Poland pursuing them, Second World Renaissance, plans to attack the United Nations during their general assembly.

Weissrogue, whose talent is luck, follows instructions from Pzybyszewski and hides the group in the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island. On the way out on the ferry, however, a Homeland Security agent attempts to accost them and is stopped by Grace’s mournful song. He jumps off the side of the boat, whose personnel rescues him and holds him until evaluated by a psychiatrist. Once ashore and settled at the hotel, Grace and Ichirou venture out and find Beau Boren, who sounds like he knows about Grace’s talent; Grace gets a bad feeling about him. Ichirou and Grace return to the room to find that Ayana and Greg are in bed together. Grace runs off and Ichirou finds here and listens to her muddled feelings. Later, the four and Weissrogue deliberate whether to get involved in stopping the group behind Renaissance Theory. They decide that they will try to stop the plans for the General Assembly, with Anastasja Wojcik acting as a fire talent who will burn the assembly hall down while the others assassinate three world leaders. Second World Renaissance will use their talents’ destructive abilities to angle for Renaissance representation at the UN.

Grace and Ichirou’s talents make the centerpiece of the plan to stop the conflagration, as they both can control moods and emotions. They decide that using their gifts to stop the conflagration and murders will require they work together on video with music to be run on the screen before the Assembly while people are filing in. They meet with a record producer on Weissrogue’s list, taken from Homeland Security, of suspected talents. The record producer, William Alden, helps them create the potent video. Grace and Ichirou discover a synergy that makes them more powerful – and more connected.

Once in New York, the group puts together their strategy, which involves Greg smuggling the video loop into the audiovisual room, Ayana and Weissrogue and Grace and Ichirou creating distraction. Although this goes successfully, the Homeland Security agent pursuing them turns off the video and kidnaps Grace and Ichirou when they try to put the video on again. Once they have persuaded the agent, Walter Adams, to help them, they run into the assembly room. They find the room occupied by members of Second World Renaissance and their soldiers. Amid the chaos, Grace sings while the others try to stop the attackers. One trains his semiautomatic on Grace, and Walter Adams shoots him to death. Greg brings him back to life, and his allegiance flips. Grace’s song, amplified by Ichirou’s synergy, moves the audience to fight against the attackers, and they are overwhelmed by numbers. Greg stops Dominika and the reluctant fire talent Anastasja from setting the curtains aflame; Dominika reveals that Anastasja is his daughter.

In the aftermath, several things are revealed: Beau Boren, President of Lakeview School, is a member of the Renaissance Theory group with hopes to deliver Grace to Second World Renaissance. Estelle DeWinter knew this and was trying to protect Grace. Przemyslaw Przybyszewski has been more than Greg’s benefactor, being involved in an anti-Second World movement. Greg and Ayana finally get together when Greg finds out Ayana is carrying his baby, and Ichirou and Grace finally admit their relationship.

Pitch Wars



Today I submit Apocalypse to Pitch Wars. Pitch Wars is a yearly contest whereas writers submit what is basically a query package — query letter, bio, synopsis, and first chapter — into selected potential mentors, who will in turn pick a writer they want to work with. They will help develop and polish query materials and give the writer the opportunity to meet with industry representatives to pitch their novel.

I’ve done this twice before. I guess the odds are less than 1% that one would get selected. I’m okay with that; I’ll keep trying. My novel has been improved. My query letter has been improved. I have grown as a writer. This may be the year.

Or it may not be. 

But it will never be if I don’t try.

On the Verge of Querying Again.

I have minor corrections to do on Whose Hearts are Mountains today, and then I will query the last 30 agents. Wish me luck.

I don’t know what I’m going to do if these last 30 come up empty. Yes, I do. I’m going to query Prodigies (the improved version) in a few months, and start the cycle again. 

I feel like a glutton for punishment. But at this point, I have documents as good as I can make them, and I can’t not share them. 

Nothing more to say today, but: here’s a cat.

Me-Me, aka “Brussels Sprout”


A Slap



So these last few weeks have been a great growth time for my writing. I have revised two out of my four novels (Whose Hearts are Mountains and Prodigies) to give more of a development of character at the beginning instead of barreling into the plot immediately. I am working on a third, Apocalypse for the same, and the fourth, Gaia’s Hands, is going to require a lot of work, especially now that I know it’s a romance novel. 

And I would never have known to do this without rejections from agents sending me to developmental editors and beta readers and books about writing. I haven’t been revising just to pay my dues; I really feel like I have a better product because of it. 

My mother once told me it took two people to paint a picture: the artist and the person who slaps the artist when they’re done. At this point, I feel like I need a slap. I need someone to read something and tell me if I’m done. 

And then, in my next set of queries, what if I don’t get accepted by an agent? What’s next? I have really no idea to be honest. I suspect it will feel like a slap in the face.


Progress (I think)



I think I’m through the edit of Prodigies — it’s going to my in-house reader now. The edit was about two things — emotions and plotting. I hope I have those in a better place.

I guess Prodigies will go out on my next querying round, and I’m hoping the beginning now brings agents in. They should get to know the main character now. 

Now, I’m afraid, it’s time to go back to Gaia’s Hands. I would rather prune very prickly roses than go back to Gaia’s Hands, to be truthful. That book needs so much help, being the first one I wrote. It needs replotting and characterization and dilemmas and … I still don’t know if I want to start it from scratch.

I do worry because I haven’t had an idea for a new book for a while (but Whose Hearts are Mountains wasn’t that long ago, either). On the other hands, I want the existing works to be sharp, sparkly, and compelling. I hope I get closer to that.

Labor Day

It’s Labor Day in the US, which these days has less to do with celebrating the worker as it does one last steak on the grill before autumn. Makes sense, as the US is hardly pro-worker right now.

I’m feeling decidedly unmotivated. I have a bit of homework to grade, and a short story (flash fiction?) to tweak. I should probably send out my next set of queries (I have at least 30 to send this time around) but I’m so not feeling it.

Maybe this is a day to rest. My longtime readers know, however, that if I say that I’m most certainly NOT going to rest. 

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8:45 AM CDT:
Ok, I got the grading done. Still don’t know what I’m going to do with myself today, but I do wish I had more coffee. 

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9:09 AM CDT:
Just tweaked the flash fiction.  Desperately need coffee even though I had two cups this morning. Have espresso beans, but I just found out my Moka pot is missing a gasket. I don’t know if I want to drink cafe American though.

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9:14 AM CDT:
Trying to psych myself up to do querying. Also still trying to solve the coffee problem, because I’m not sure I’m up to going out at the moment to Scooter’s (with its corporate air and its uncomfortable booths) …

Ok, not gripping blogging today. Better go figure out what to do on my day off…

Writing in Beaver Dam WI

Another day at Higher Grounds in Beaver Dam having just finished another three hours of writing. I’m at 14 hours out of 30 for Camp NaNo July, and I’m at least getting more words for Gaia’s Hands. I think it’s going to go through another dev edit because it deserves it and it’s now a much different book.

Richard has just gone through a line edit of Apocalypse, which means a couple fixes and it’s ready to go into Query Mode. It’s a very different book than the one that failed in querying. I think I’ve grown a lot from when that was the second (and third) book I’ve written.

One thing I’ve discovered: Nobody’s impressed that I’m a writer. I’m secretly amused by this, because there’s this part of me who dreams of impressing people. In reality, it’s “Oh, you’re a writer? You’re not published yet? Have you tried children’s books?” I have nothing bad to say about children’s books, but unless they involve ancient lore, preternatural bad guys, and the reincarnation of King — Oh, sorry, that’s Susan Cooper’s Dark is Rising sequence. Loved that stuff.

I stay optimistic, maybe because I’ve won one short story contest and been a runner-up in another. (I’ve been rejected by three times this many zines and contests, though). 



Hope Part 2

My mantra:

“You may find a sweeter outcome than you’ve imagined.”

I don’t know what I think about this mantra that has popped into my head. On one hand, I fully expect another round of rejections like the one I got yesterday, less than 24 hours after I sent it. On the other hand, I have a pretty vivid imagination. I imagine a multi-book deal and a book-signing tour for which I would have to get book-signing clothes, and friends who want to read this book.

Realistically, I don’t think that’s going to happen. As a friend of mine said, publishing is a punishing business. It’s true. I need the hope to get through another round of queries, hoping that an agent will bite. Which is the first step to getting published, because there’s no guarantee that a agent will take you on after they’ve asked for more material.

The other piece that gives me hope is that I’m already an artist, already a writer. I don’t have to get published to be one. I write, I get feedback, I improve my work, I try to get it published. I am serious about what I do. I am a writer, and all the publication route does is make my work available to other people, and gives it some sort of seal of approval so others take it seriously.

I have a friend (as much as one can be when the entire friendship is me commenting on his Instagram posts) who has been busting his butt to get recognition for what he does, and he finally says he’s broken a goal. He hasn’t announced it yet, but I’m sure it’s good because he was almost speechless in his Instagram post.

I’m proud of him.

I hope I will be able to make that kind of announcement someday.