Seven More Years

Waiting For Rejection

So I am all alone tonight.  Kim is off for a night out with the "girls," and Erin has long since fallen asleep to the soothing sounds of Miley Cyrus filling her room.  I probably should have taken the time alone to do something more productive, but I just kicked back with a movie off of iTunes.  I guess I am still riding the, "hey man, I just finished writing a book...let a guy have some downtime!" wave.  It's probably going to be time to pack that excuse away soon, huh?

Even that aside, though, I am really in a weird place tonight.  I'm checking my email at least ten times a day at this point waiting for my rejection from the super-agent I met at Backspace.  It's a strange part of this business that we are so quickly conditioned for rejection.  It's almost a relief in some weird masochistic way to get that little "no thank you" note.  It's like, "Okay, now I can stop lying awake at night pestered by that stupid little optimistic voice inside my head hoping for the best."

Also, tomorrow is weigh-in day for week number four of my new major fitness routine.  I've worked pretty hard this week--both with exercising and with what I've been eating--but still, that flat week is coming.  Either this week or next, I expect to get on that scale and see the same number I did the week before.  Like a draw full of rejection letters, it's just part of the process.  Still, it makes for a pretty sucky start to your weekend.

I've been working on a new article for my main blog but something is just not connecting.  I really like the overall concept, but I can't seem to get it to flow all together on paper.  I am getting pretty close to the point where I usually scrap it and move on.  It's a bit disappointing as I really like the idea...but I've really come to learn over last year or so that I can't force projects like this.  If it's not there, it's not there.

So, that's where I am.  Sitting alone on the couch, waiting for failure to knock my door and let me off the hook.  Damn that sounds depressing...

And It Lives!!!

There is a rule in the writing biz that I just learned over the past few months.  You cannot write  a novel and blog at the same time.  It just doesn't work.  I kept meaning to come on here and post a note to that effect, but I never got to it.  Something in me just wouldn't allow any "writing tasks" to happen unless they were for the book.

So--to catch you all up--for the past three months or so, I've been hard at work on the rewrites to my second novel, The Tynassis Stone.  It's a low fantasy story about four friends who get swept up in a war that the world thought over a generation ago.  Along the way, they discover that often times all the things we think we so desperately want end up pushing away all the things we really need. (That's my elevator pitch so far...needs a bit of work, huh?  I'll get there.)

Anyway, it's officially done.  DONE!  I actually need to go through and do one more "safety" proofreading pass, but I should be able to finish that over this weekend.  As I type this, Kim is reading through the first official copy.  And I am sitting here trying to pretend I am not freaking out as she does so.  It's a fun way to spend a Thursday night. 

I am really happy with the book.  I think it is a huge step from my first novel, and--if I tell that little, evil voice in the back of my mind to just shut up for a minute--I am feeling really confident about bringing it to New York next week.   The Backspace Writer's Conference starts next Thursday (one week from tonight!  Ohmigod!), and on that first day I get locked in a room with a dozen or so literary agents who will critique my first few pages.  It's going to be a great way to make some contacts and begin the submission process.

So tonight I finally open the door on this story, and let someone else into this little world I've created.  It's a scary--but exciting!--moment.  I've worked really hard to get here, and I just hope I've done as good a job as I think I have.

Oh, and with that deadline met (wait, it's actually a goal, isn’t it?  I need to update those), I should be able to get back to the rest of my sevenmoreyears goals.  So look for more regular updates from now on...

Yay me!

I Can See Clearly Now...

I finally got started with the rewrites on the new book this weekend.  I planed to finish up chapter one tonight (warning: lame excuse alert), but my quick eye doctor appointment after work tonight turned into a four hour ordeal.  I'll spare you the details, but the night ended with a family trip to Lenscrafters and me walking out a few minutes before closing with the first pair of glasses I've bought since 1992.  Ugh.

I know none of you can see me through the magic of the internet, but I am still feeling pretty damn self conscious as I type this.  And the fact that my new prescription--which I am going to estimate is about an order of magnitude stronger that the one I picked up when I was sixteen--is twisting my MacBook screen into a shrunken irregular trapezoid is not exactly helping.  Ah well, I'll adjust.

Anyway, the rewrites are in full swing, if starting a little slow.  I cut about two pages from the opening scene, which was a huge deal for me.  The decision was based largely on some feedback I got from some literary agents I read for at Backspace last summer.  They wanted the opening to get to the point a bit faster.  So I sacrificed a chunk of the opening sequence (a big in media res style opening) and adjusted the rest of the chapter to match.  I think it's a lot stronger now and gets to the "good stuff" right away.  I need to do another read through (hopefully tomorrow night) but I think I'm pretty close to done.

In other news, I also heard back from two more agents since I reported last.  Two more form rejections.  That leaves three queries (if I am doing the math right) still out in the void.  As they say, it only takes one yes!  I guess I need to start thinking about putting together another batch of letters.

Oh, and I also posted a new story over at jasontoomey.com.  It's been a long time since I've put something up there, but with all this effort to get myself back into serious writer mode something just clicked.  I am pretty happy with it.  Click over and check it out if you have some time.

So Money...

An oddly unsettling conversation with the pile of unread manuscript pages sitting on the edge of my desk in my office:

PAGES:  Hey, writer-guy...remember us?

ME:  Yeah, I am going to get to revising you really soon.

PAGES:  Really?  Soon?  Isn't that what you said a *week* ago when you printed us out?

ME:  No way, it hasn't been a week...has it?

PAGES:  Actually we're pretty sure it's been more.  We were just rounding down as not to be rude.

ME:  Oh.  Well, I'll get to you tomorrow.

PAGES:  You said that yesterday.

ME:  Right...but I mean it this time.  Really, I promise.

PAGES:  Dude, could we, like, have a real moment here?

ME:  I guess...though talking to a pile of paper is starting to feel a little weird.

PAGES:  Look, we've all been talking it over and, well, we're all pretty sure we could be awesome.  Like *seriously* awesome.

ME:  I think so too!  I mean I am really proud of--

PAGES:  Yeah, the thing is while we *could* be awesome--like *awesomely* awesome--at the moment we are pretty freaking far from awesome!

ME:  Wow...did you just do a censored Pulp Fiction reference?  That's kind of lame.  I'm pretty sure you need to use "okay" in there for people to get it.  And if you want to say "fuck" just say it, don't be PG-13.  We've talked about this.

PAGES:  Yeah, do you see why we need you?  All of us read like that.  We need polish, damn it!

ME:  Okay, okay...I'll see your point, I'll get to you.  Very soon.

PAGES:  What's going on with you, man?  Where's the fire?  Where's the passion?

ME:  It's here.  I want to get working on you...I don't know...I just...I can't get started.  What if I can't get you where you need to be?  What if I just screw this up completely?  What if I just waste the next eight weeks rewriting another book that will never be good enough to publish?

PAGES:  You're over thinking this.  Just take us one page at a time.  You're great at tightening and polishing.  You do it almost every day.

ME:  That's different.  Tech writing is flat.  It doesn’t need the feel and nuance that fiction does.

PAGES:  What?  Come on, all the feel is already here!  What about that scene on the boat...that's awesome!  So much better than you hoped it would be.  And what about--

ME:  I know, I know...you're good.  Really, really good.

PAGES:  And you're money, dude.  You are so money and you don't even know it!  And all those agents in New York?  Just scared little bunny rabbits.

ME:  Wow, a Swingers reference.  Nicely executed, but no one is going to get it.

PAGES:  The right people will get it.

ME:  Okay, I'll give you that.

PAGES:  C'mon, man...make us awesome.  Do that cool writer stuff you do with the red pen and the twirling in your chair and the pounding excitedly on the desk when the perfect word comes...

ME:  All right, I hear you.  Time to jump in.  Enough stalling.

PAGES:  Money, dude, so money.

And The Silence Is Deafening

One of the really strange things about writing is just how solitary the experience is.   I finished my read through yesterday, and while I am hesitant to go into the details (obviously I am biased, and besides, why start jinxing everything now?) I will say I am excited.  Very excited.  Like, "hmm...I think I might have just uncovered the secret to cold fusion" excited.

Finishing my read through yesterday afternoon was the equivalent of seeing a prototype system spark to life for the first time on my old engineering bench.  There is just a mixture of relief, exhilaration, and unbridled glee as this little project that existed only in your own mind for so long becomes officially "real" and starts doing all the things you hoped it would.

In the engineering world, a moment like this is usually shared with people around you.  There are cheers, hearty claps on the back, and celebratory lunches.  People from other departments come over to see what all the fuss is about and offer their congratulations.  Managers escort the corporate suits over to have a look at your creation in its infant form (sometimes taking a little more of the credit than they should, but who cares).  And while you know you are a long way from finished (tests need to be done, algorithms perfected, reliability issues discovered and repaired), you get to enjoy an awesome moment of accomplishment and pride.

In contrast to that, I find myself alone this morning in my basement, my happy little manuscript by my side and a nifty red pen ready for my hand.  Even though the story I tried so hard to tell--and secretly feared I wouldn't be able to tell--is now real and tangible, there is just no one around to share that with.  Those around me can be happy for me and offer kind words, but being so outside the process, they can't really share the experience or truly "get" the sheer, raw awesomeness of what I am finally holding in my hands.

I just celebrate in silence--feeling a little silly for it, despite my best efforts--and ready myself for the work I still have ahead of me.  The work is far from over, and now that my little creation has a heartbeat, I am more determined than ever to see it through.  Still, a small part of me longs to head out for an ice cream (on the boss, of course) like in the old days.

Oh well.  This is life we have chosen...and I certainly wouldn't trade back for anything.

And Thanks For Playing...

The writing gods give, and the writing gods take away.  With some help from Kim (she did an emergency safety read on the 50 pages I was sending last night), I managed to get a partial out to that agent last night.  It's actually the first time I've ever e-submitted (is that the usage we are going with, gang?) anything, so I was really nervous about formating and stuff.  But I think it got off okay.

And for my timely efforts, I received a response just a few minutes ago: a very kind no.

I can’t say I am surprised.  Despite my enthusiasm in my last post, I knew getting a request for a full was a long shot.  That's just the reality of the publishing world.  (I won't bore you all with the statistics...but I could write out a quick table right off the top of my head).

Still, I got to spend the day in a OHMIGOD-this-could-really-be-happening bliss.  As pessimistic as this business tends to make you, bright spots like that are pretty cool.  And the fact that she thought I was worth a closer look in the first place is very flattering.  Some writers go years without ever getting a request for a partial.  (Look me trying to cheer myself up...aren't I adorable?)

In the end she said she was "intrigued by the premise [of my novel]...but not drawn in to the story as much as she had hoped."

If I look at the past two days objectively, I think it confirms my fears about the book.  The concept is good, my writing is decent, but the execution is just not there.  For all intents and purposes, the plot, pacing, and structure of the book were set in stone as I wrote the first draft, years before I had gained all my levels in writing.  In my inexperience, I just didn't get the story in my head down onto the paper--and no amount of rewriting and polishing is going to fix that.

Ah well, that's the game.  There are still six more queries out there and hopefully someone else sees something there that the others haven't.  Until then, I've got book #2 to work on, and I know that is going to fare much, much better.

Back to it!

Breath, Breath...No Need to Panic

So I just got home from my first trip to the gym of the new year (2.13 miles in 30 minutes on the treadmill and four sets of curls just to feel manly, for those keeping notes.)  I popped open the MacBook to write a quick note for the site, and I noticed I had a few new emails sitting in my inbox.

...one unintelligible spam message <DELETE>

...one message from Writer's Digest promising me the secrets to getting published for $159.95 <SHAKE MY HEAD SADLY, THEN DELETE>

...one Facebook request...<FEEL HAPPILY INCLUDED, SAVE>

...a Staples.com flyer <SILENTLY GRUMBLE ABOUT THE BROKEN OFFICE CHAIR I AM SITTING IN, SAVE>

...a response from one of the agents I queried on saturday <COMPLETELY PANIC>

I spent about two minutes staring at the subject line of the email.

First I tried to be all cool about it:  "Oh my first rejection of the batch, that was quick...whatever." 

Then I some hope started creeping in:  "Well, you know it could be good...I've put a lot of work into this and those first few pages are really strong.  Maybe..." 

Then a little excitement: "Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod, what if she wants to see more?  What if she wants a partial?  What if this is the first correspondence with my new agent which will grow into a long and rewarding professional relationship where the two of us reinvent the entire fantasy genre???  What if--"

And then the impatient cynic--who really just wants to get back to work--piped up: "Seriously guy, just OPEN THE EMAIL!"

So I did.  And...

<drum roll>

She wants the first fifty pages!!!  Oh my god!  Losing my mind, trying to calm down, really wishing someone was here to jump up and down in circles with me.

For the non-writers out there, this is what we call a "request for a partial."  It is not an offer for representation (so don't get too excited) but it is a relatively big deal.  Basically, based on my introductory letter and short writing sample, this awesome (and clearly quite talented) agent thinks my book is worth considering.  This is only the third partial request I've ever received.

The next step is I'll send in the first 50 pages.  She'll read those and if she still thinks there is something there, she'll ask for the whole thing.  Then after reading the entire novel, she'll make a final decision.  So there is still a long way to go, but this is a very exciting first step.

All right, I need to calm myself down and get back to work.  I'll keep everyone posted on this.

Man, talk about positive reinforcement for spending my lunch hour at the gym.