(1) you sign up for the website (match.com/agentquery.com)
(2) you troll through the interwebs searching for the boy/agent who has similar values, sense of humor, intelligence, ambition, track record, and/or represents your genre.
(3) you craft an email/query letter.
(4) you imagine all the ways this boy/this agent will be your missing piece.
(5) you revised that email/query letter.
(6) you (might) doddle your names together/craft your acknowledgments page.
(7) you ponder possible first date/THE CALL options.
(8) you polish the email/query letter to perfection because you have one shot to make that first impression, to entice the boy/agent with your/manuscript’s witty banter.
(9) you wonder if it’s excitement, anticipation, or just heartburn.
i’m in the midst of discovering my writing process. here’s what i know so far:
i balance on the line between plotter and pantser. (writing out the full plot before i start writing vs. writing with no tools, no outline, willy nilly, by the seat of my pants). i need to have a list of a few major events that occur throughout the book. these act as guidelines making sure i stay on track, but getting the characters from one point to the next is where i can expand, expound, expunge, uh, let the creative juices flow.
the next trail along my path of discovery is music. i cannot write with music on. the lyrics (WORDS written by ANOTHER) infiltrate my mind like little zombies who eat my brain and turn me to mush. me slumped and drooling over the computer isn’t a pretty sight not to mention the drool could short circuit the laptop causing an electrical fire that could burn into a large, more damaging fire. so in the interest of fire safety, i write in silence.
(note to self, don’t ever google image the word silence again. it’s nightmare inducing.)
BUT, music does something that nothing else can. it sets the mood. it gets my mind churning. when trying to get into the brain of a teenage protagonist, music helps to tap into those emotions (oh, ALL those teenage emotions), so i find it beneficial to pump the jams before writing. however, my current WIP’s playlist is only 3 songs. how do you find songs that relate to your story and your characters when it’s music you wouldn’t normally listen to?
the earth’s alignment has shifted. the new tilt has left wide spread changes in its wake.
what? you didn’t hear about it? you didn’t feel it? you didn’t smell the winds of change?
the new angle of the earth has affected the zodiac signs which means i went from being an independent and loyal (and awesome) capricorn to a globally thinking, fieryly enthusiastic sagittarius. i couldn’t even spell that word without looking it up and now it’s supposed to define me?
it sure seems as though everything describing a capricorn directly relates back to me, while the sagittarius depictions only relate to me in vague and foggy ways. but wait. when did i ever let the stars define me? i thought i was forged from the hardships and joys and triumphs and setbacks and giggles and tears and puddles and rainbows of every day life. and besides, how can a tilt of the earth change one’s personality?
i was born under the capricorn sign, so a capricorn i shall stay. although, being an archer sounds a lot more badass than a seagoat. maybe there is a silver lining in this shift of the stars.
who says you have to be crowded into the living room, kitchen, and/or dining room to hold a book club? we are ladies of the 21st century. we don’t need no stinkin’ couches. so pull up a blog and join in the conversation.
the members of the BOOK HUNGRY are (alphabetically): patty blount, kelly breakey, karla nellenbach, vanessa noble, alyson peterson, cynthia reese, elizabeth ryann, and myself. here’s the deal. we pick a book to read. we discuss via email. we post a review on our individual blogs on the same day (3rd thursday of the month). we link to each other. done. i know, genius. click on each one of their names (above) and it’ll take you to their review. browse. enjoy.
this month’s BOOK HUNGRY selection is:
NEVER LET ME GO by kazuo ishiguro
i have a confession.
i didn’t finish the book.
i can’t say that about many books, but this one? heck, i didn’t even make through the first 100 pages. i only reached page 69 (tee hee) and i can’t even remember the main character’s name. (ok, it’s kathy. i peeked.) i found the prose to be dull and lifeless and vague and confusing and i see from an amazon.com review that “misdirection” is an intended side effect, but ishiguro misdirected me right out of the book. i couldn’t get into it nor did i want to. the only reason i made it as far as i did was because of the external pressure i felt knowing others in my group were reading it, but there are far too many other books out there for me to waste my time on a book that i find unrelatable and uninteresting.
i know, i know, i’ve said that reading all kinds of books (even bad ones) is important because from them you learn what to do and what not to do in your own writing.
but, yet, this book is a different beast. i mean, ishiguro is a successful author. this is his sixth novel. it was turned into a movie! still, i couldn’t finish reading. i could barely even start reading and i’ll have you know that it wasn’t just me. out of the group, only patty finished it. isn’t that odd that only one person out of nine could complete it? we’re all readers and yet this story didn’t grab any of us? i know publishing is subjective and all, but i think the masses have spoken. book = bad. hey, maybe this is the exception to the “book is always better than the movie” rule. see for yourself:
it looks mildly entertaining, slightly creepy, but ultimately watchable, right? so what am i missing? why aren’t the words beckoning like usual? am i right to have given up so soon? should i have incurred the library fine and kept reading? what do you do when you find yourself reluctant to read? do you plod ahead? do other chores? put down the book for good? watch the movie instead?
in other reading news, these are the books i read instead of the book club selection: WHITE CAT by holly black, REVOLUTION by jennifer donnelley, and NORTH OF BEAUTIFUL by justina chen headley. all of which had action and drama and real life moments that punch you in the gut. yes, i want to be slugged while reading. emotionally socked. aww, you know what i mean.
and i know that next month’s book (13 REASONS WHY by jay asher) will provide the punch. why? because i’ve already read it.
even if i have the recipe right in front of me, my cooking skills are not top notch. sure, i can complete the most basic of dishes, but don’t expect me to prepare a full color oil painting type dish. it’s best if you only expect a stick figure meal from me.
sister J and i were tasked with completing christmas dinner while mom, dad, and sister E went out to spread the holiday cheer. this is a multi dish dinner and one we’ve helped mom make over the years. we were floating high with the christmas spirit and figured it’d be no big deal. what we didn’t account for was the absence of mom’s knowledgable eyes watching over us. our cooking efforts rapidly distintigrated.
J: should i err on the side of too many cashews or too few?
me: too many. everyone loves nuts. (TWSS)
meanwhile, me: *stirs vigorously* J, this chocolate sauce isn’t so much a sauce. it’s more of a tar. think i should add more water?
J: yes. no. I DON’T KNOW! help! this cashew butter is just a pile of cashews. it’s too salty.
me: *eyes pot* *tastes* *tongue shrivels from excess salt* i think you should have erred on the side of too few nuts.
our laughter boiled quicker than the sauces. eventually i got the chocolate sauce to thin (too much, of course) and J fixed the cashew butter and the dinner turned out almost as delicious as ever, though we did get a few “i’ve never seen it done this way before.” that’s what happens you leave a project open to someone else’s interpretation.
it’s like reading a book. when you sit down to read, you bring your own life experiences and information with you. when the author wrote that scene about a family dinner, he might have meant it to be a minor scene, one to show the dynamics of the family, but when i read that scene, i flashed back to that one time sister J and i had to take charge in the kitchen. neither of us suspected we’d have to call on all of our culinary knowledge and since said knowledge is rather limited, we laughed to cover the gaps because we were down in the trenches together, family style. i automatically think of family dinners as major scenes, not minor moments.
it’s just like my coworker said, “a book is never complete until it’s read.” and that’s because the author writes the story they intended, but i read the story as it relates to my life and you read the tale as it exists in relation to you and he reads it with his rose tinted glasses and she reads it with a cynical slant and on and on. the most successful stories make us all feel like the story was written exclusively about ourselves.
perhaps THIS is why i read. i’m looking for bits of myself. my definition of self is still evolving and so finding pieces of myself as i relate to the story, to the author, to my surroundings, to my family, to my life helps to solidify my view of me.
so in this post holiday haze, i declare we should all keep reading, keep cooking, keep learning, keep living. they’re all noble pursuits.
Abigail Mumford 