Category: Writing

The day after

I did actually use a fork today to eat my lunch. Improvement all around.

 

I do confess I was pretty taken aback by the email from the our (!) agent. I anticipated a quiet evening of setting up a new computer. (Andrew gets my old one; I get to be the family Vista beta tester.)

 

I was taken aback because the first email on my new computer was from the our (!) agent.

It was downhill after that. Because clearly, I did not:

  • Call my own mother (!)

  • Call my sister (!)

  • Email Marianne (!)

I. Am. Remiss. Forgive me. Last night was swimming and football. Andrew has words of  wisdom on the importance of wearing a cup, but I’ll save those for later.

 

Yesterday, I discovered a SASE with a rejection in it in the mailbox. I found this highly entertaining.

 

Today, I found out one of my tech writing haikus made the short list in the Haiku Buckaroo contest.

 

Marianne and Judy have been working very hard on their new review site: The Long and the Short of It. They have contests and prizes and a grand opening. Visit their sites for more information.

Super secret double probation hotdish project

The hotdish, she has an advocate.

For those of you who haven’t been playing along at home–and for those who have, I can be cryptic–I’ve been referring to a “secret” project, code name: hotdish, pretty much all summer long.

And now, I can tell all.

Okay, not really. I can tell some.

The hotdish is actually a revision of The Geek Girl’s Guide to Cheerleading, a book I wrote, revised, and nearly shelved.

It was clear from agent feedback I received earlier this year, that for the book to be marketable, it needed to be in first person. I was ready to shelve it. According to Darcy, all it needed was a little gloss and glitter, and could she give it a shot putting it into first person.  

She did all the grunt work of putting it into first person. To make a long story short, I went back through for a final edit, and after getting over the initial weirdness of my story in a different voice, something magical happened.

It wasn’t my story. It wasn’t Darcy’s. Somehow, we’d managed to capture Bethany’s story. When I read it now, I don’t know what she wrote and what I wrote anymore.  

And really, it’s been our book all along. She urged me to write it in the first place. She read the craptacular first draft (and it was beyond craptacular), offered advice, a shoulder to cry on, and all the rest. That we’re now writing partners makes total sense.

 

Yesterday, we received an email from a NYC agent wanting to represent the book. At some point, I’m sure I’ll shout her name from the rooftops, but for now, I’m being discreet. We need to do some revisions. This is only one step in the entire process, although, admittedly, it is a pretty big step.

 

I posted to the Noodler email loop that I was weirdly calm. I am. Sort of. Of course, at lunch, I tried to eat my salad with a spoon. And I’m both calm and jittery, like I’m regretting chasing that venti latte with a Red Bull.

 

I’ll post more on our query stats later this week, because they’re interesting (well, if you’re a writer, they might be). But for now, I’m brainstorming new spicies (Kyra’s word for spices) for the hotdish.

Impatience and the writer

Sometimes it takes writing to figure out what you are writing about and then you must go back and start all over again.

My instructor for the children’s writing class said this the other day (I’m paraphrasing slightly).

I have a friend (no, this isn’t me in the guise of friend–for real) who claims to hate writing “under the burden of previously written scenes.” This person is a good writer (but look at how deftly I avoid revealing gender). But I’ve never seen this person (more gender-avoiding waltzing) do more than a rough draft of a novel. In a strange paradox, this person hates “wasted scenes” but has walked away from (by my count) four novels.

Oh, and I’m not talking about anyone who reads this blog. If you thought “That’s me!”

You. Thought. Wrong.

But I’ve been thinking about this. My instructor referred to it as impatience. When you write, it simply doesn’t all come at once. I suppose it could, for some people. I know my brain can only handle so much at a time. When I started the revisions for my current project, I was all about voice. So much so, I forgot about structure. Structure flew out the window, ran down the street, and I’m still calling her name, trying to get her back.

Actually, this week, I’m all about structure. You might say the Hard-looking, Eye-looking is courtin’ structure.

Let’s hope she’ll want to be my steady gal.

Hard looking eye looker

Last night, I was praising the kids for swimming so hard at their lessons. Andrew will be moving up a level, yet again, and Kyra is oh-so close but her progress has been tremendous this session.

We made our standard joke of working hard/hardly working (cuz you know, it never gets old). Then Kyra insisted I work hard at swim lessons too. She groped for words to describe exactly what it is I do there and came up with:

Hard looking eye looker.

What I think she means is I watch their lessons closely with, of course, my eye. I love the sound of it, though. Sounds like something from the Old West (Hollywood version).

“Sure, I know the Hard Looking Eye Looker,” the barkeep said, polishing a whiskey glass with a bit of homespun. “Lives in the caves up behind the old abandon gold mines. Lives all by her lonesome, too, expect fer Pete, the one-eyed parrot. Mean sommabitch. Nearly took out young Nat’s eye last week. Jealous, you know. You best be travelin’ some other direction.”

And for writers, filed under the: if you only read one blog post on writing today, read this one from Stef’s (almost) Daily Dish. I didn’t realize that Stef was dishing it out almost daily lately either. I must get out more. Like Trish Milburn who sold a while back, Stef is another Noodler who sets the gold standard as far as persistence goes.

You might even say she’s a hard looking eye looker.

Tech Writer Haiku

I found Leslie’s Haiku Buckaroo Contest! via Jen. I wrote these a while back, but you know, there just isn’t a market for tech writer haiku. I can’t imagine why.

 

Technical Writer Haiku

 

 Code cutoff, rejoice
But wait! It will not install
Tears drench your keyboard

 * * * 

There will be changes
Content, timeframe, uncertain
Revisions endless 

* * * 

New program feature
Two Subject Matter Experts
The delay is long 

* * * 

Release tomorrow
“We forgot to tell you . . .”
Endless night of words 

* * * 

Documentation
Seven hundred pages
A tech writer weeps