Most of you know I have an agent. She's Cori Deyoe of 3 Seas Literary. If you can find an agent who is as perfect for you as Cori is for me, marry her--ish.
Here are the basics you want in that marriage:
Agent should love the author's writing.
Agent should love the author's writing so much that said agent is determined to find that author a home for all that author's sellable work.
Phone calls between author and agent should leave both parties higher than kites about said author's career.
That's it from where I stand. Just three things. Love, love, and a pie in the sky. I'm just waiting on that pie to fall from said sky and land cherry-side up on my desk...
Showing posts with label expectations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label expectations. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Sunday, October 24, 2010
NANOWRIMO and ROPE THEORY
There is a theory in business management that states that completion of a given task will take the time alotted for that task. Meaning, if you alot an hour for a job, humans being humans, status being quo, it will take an hour to finish that job.
So, if you give yourself an indeterminate amount of time in which to write a novel, it may, or may not, get finished at all. But most of us dearly want to finish, don't we? This is why NANOWRIMO is a good thing--so good in fact that it shouldn't be saved for just once a year.
I say, listen to the experts. Make a SWAG (scientific wild-assed guess) on how long it would take you to crank out a first draft of a novel, or whatever you're wishing you could produce. IF you were focused. IF you made the time. IF you intend to really make a career of writing. And by all means, be honest with yourself.
Don't plan to write every day. I'm planning for 5 days per week and calculated accordingly. If I miss a day, then it will cut into my weekend, so that's just more motivation.
I looked back at the last book I wrote (I kept a little record) and looked at my average page count for days I actually wrote some. (This was just writing for a few hours a day, not 6 or 8 hours.)I multiplied that by five days a week, then 52 weeks a year. Then I divided that by 350 pages and had, in front of me, how many books I can crank out in a year.
I had to sit down.
SIDE NOTE: If your SWAG is more than 6 months for one book, then you can stop reading now. You have better things to do than read this crap.
For those of you still reading, I suggest you stop for a moment, do the little exercise with your calculator, and see just what you are capable of. I think you'll be surprised. I think you'll be disappointed in yourself for not doing better in the last twelve months.
I know I am.
Also, don't feel pressured into making your plan longer than is reasonable for you. Small bites. Reasonable goals. I just happen to be making a plan for the next 12 months, not just one. Would one be reasonable? Yes. Is 12 months unreasonable? Maybe, but I'm moving up from String Theory to Rope Theory.
Before I tell you my plan, let me warn you that my plan also involves editing an hour or two in the evenings and on weekends. I know there will be other duties to this BUSINESS besides cranking out raw material. I haven't lost all ability to reason. I'm not functioning under the influence of a full moon. (That was days ago.)
Also, a note about my last book: I was MOTIVATED. I was writing to the market--gasp! I was armed with an agent's prediction of what was the new hot thing and I was going to crank out just that. I did have another novel I had to finish and send off before I could start on THE BOOK, but once I started (I'd given myself 6 weeks), I did it in four.
You see something wrong here, don't you? So you should. I'd given myself six weeks to get it done. I told that agent I would be sending it in 6 freaking weeks! Only I was determined to edit it and have some beta readers go over it first--THAT's what cut my time back to 4 weeks.
The completion of any given [novel] will require the time alotted for that [novel]. I alotted four weeks. It took four weeks. Did I miss days altogether? Yes. Did my husband resent it a little? Sometimes. Did the commitment to that agent drag me over each and every obstacle?
No.
My ambition did it.
I am an ambitious beyotch. I'm sure I can come up with reasons for it. But ambition is my strength and my weakness. Somedays I pay dearly for it. Someday it'll be paying me.
This year is no different. This year I'm planning to write six novels. It's reasonable...for someone with my drive, and honey, I drive fast.
That's nearly half a million words, by the way. It's 7.3 pages per day. Five days a week. No weeks off. I'm going to set up a countdown on this blog, so you can see if I'm behind. I'm going to stay off email for the most part and hope I don't lose friends.
I'm also going to be published by Valor Publishing; the first book comes out in April. I'm going to do booksignings out the wahzoo, get a son graduated, sent on a mission, and get the older one back home and married off. I'm going to be babysitting Copy and Paste when needed, work part time, and keep my husband and I on our Biggest Loser Roller Coaster Ride. NO! You won't be seeing a grid on that info! Suffice it to say, it's nearly half a million.
So no, I won't be living with my laptop in a closet, being fed through the cracks by a bunch of sons who would be more than happy to share less and less of their daily alotment of food. (The theory they've proven is that whatever the amount of food alotted for a meal cannot expand to fill the imagined caloric requirements of male subjects under 22.)
I will be living my normal abbynormal life. I will also be living my normal abbynormal dream. I'll either live to tell about it or make more traditional use of that ROPE THEORY.
So, if you give yourself an indeterminate amount of time in which to write a novel, it may, or may not, get finished at all. But most of us dearly want to finish, don't we? This is why NANOWRIMO is a good thing--so good in fact that it shouldn't be saved for just once a year.
I say, listen to the experts. Make a SWAG (scientific wild-assed guess) on how long it would take you to crank out a first draft of a novel, or whatever you're wishing you could produce. IF you were focused. IF you made the time. IF you intend to really make a career of writing. And by all means, be honest with yourself.
Don't plan to write every day. I'm planning for 5 days per week and calculated accordingly. If I miss a day, then it will cut into my weekend, so that's just more motivation.
I looked back at the last book I wrote (I kept a little record) and looked at my average page count for days I actually wrote some. (This was just writing for a few hours a day, not 6 or 8 hours.)I multiplied that by five days a week, then 52 weeks a year. Then I divided that by 350 pages and had, in front of me, how many books I can crank out in a year.
I had to sit down.
SIDE NOTE: If your SWAG is more than 6 months for one book, then you can stop reading now. You have better things to do than read this crap.
For those of you still reading, I suggest you stop for a moment, do the little exercise with your calculator, and see just what you are capable of. I think you'll be surprised. I think you'll be disappointed in yourself for not doing better in the last twelve months.
I know I am.
Also, don't feel pressured into making your plan longer than is reasonable for you. Small bites. Reasonable goals. I just happen to be making a plan for the next 12 months, not just one. Would one be reasonable? Yes. Is 12 months unreasonable? Maybe, but I'm moving up from String Theory to Rope Theory.
Before I tell you my plan, let me warn you that my plan also involves editing an hour or two in the evenings and on weekends. I know there will be other duties to this BUSINESS besides cranking out raw material. I haven't lost all ability to reason. I'm not functioning under the influence of a full moon. (That was days ago.)
Also, a note about my last book: I was MOTIVATED. I was writing to the market--gasp! I was armed with an agent's prediction of what was the new hot thing and I was going to crank out just that. I did have another novel I had to finish and send off before I could start on THE BOOK, but once I started (I'd given myself 6 weeks), I did it in four.
You see something wrong here, don't you? So you should. I'd given myself six weeks to get it done. I told that agent I would be sending it in 6 freaking weeks! Only I was determined to edit it and have some beta readers go over it first--THAT's what cut my time back to 4 weeks.
The completion of any given [novel] will require the time alotted for that [novel]. I alotted four weeks. It took four weeks. Did I miss days altogether? Yes. Did my husband resent it a little? Sometimes. Did the commitment to that agent drag me over each and every obstacle?
No.
My ambition did it.
I am an ambitious beyotch. I'm sure I can come up with reasons for it. But ambition is my strength and my weakness. Somedays I pay dearly for it. Someday it'll be paying me.
This year is no different. This year I'm planning to write six novels. It's reasonable...for someone with my drive, and honey, I drive fast.
That's nearly half a million words, by the way. It's 7.3 pages per day. Five days a week. No weeks off. I'm going to set up a countdown on this blog, so you can see if I'm behind. I'm going to stay off email for the most part and hope I don't lose friends.
I'm also going to be published by Valor Publishing; the first book comes out in April. I'm going to do booksignings out the wahzoo, get a son graduated, sent on a mission, and get the older one back home and married off. I'm going to be babysitting Copy and Paste when needed, work part time, and keep my husband and I on our Biggest Loser Roller Coaster Ride. NO! You won't be seeing a grid on that info! Suffice it to say, it's nearly half a million.
So no, I won't be living with my laptop in a closet, being fed through the cracks by a bunch of sons who would be more than happy to share less and less of their daily alotment of food. (The theory they've proven is that whatever the amount of food alotted for a meal cannot expand to fill the imagined caloric requirements of male subjects under 22.)
I will be living my normal abbynormal life. I will also be living my normal abbynormal dream. I'll either live to tell about it or make more traditional use of that ROPE THEORY.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
The Science of Tissue Paper and Ice Cream
Headed for the Big CON.
Big Con=Big Conference, not the Con of Man, not "the thing you're wasting money on". Not judging the way you spend your money. Not judging the Con. Not judging you. Got it?
The Big CON in my world is RWA Nationals.
It's costing me hearth and home to attend. I don't even want to think about what else I could have done with the money, things that would have been more lasting. Ooops. Just thought about them. Crap.
Moving along.
Let's say you're going to Nationals too. My packing advice will work for any conference, but we'll just use this one as an example.
While you're packing that outfit for the perfect pitch you're going to throw down the gullet of the agent or editor on your wish list of victims, imagine yourself not pitching well. Go ahead. Oh, for Pete's sake, just try it.
Imagine finding absolutely no one important (to your career) on the elevator with you ALL WEEK.
Imagine only other writers at your tables, in your restaurants, and in your lobbies. No chance to pitch, no elbows to rub, no faces to match those VIPs you've been stalking on line, nor anyone running around with a shark's head (Janet Reid).
Imagine the only agents and editors you see are on the panels you attend. Your pitch appointments go well, but no one gushed over you, or offered to sign you on the spot.
The clothing choices are fantastic, but no one notices them but you. Everyone else is a little too preoccupied with what they themselves are wearing . And you see seven people wearing the same pair of earrings, three have the same sandals, and the one woman who owns a copy of your dress sits at your table on Awards night.
Decide now, while packing those clothes, what attitude you're going to pack along with them, in between each outfit, like a layer of tissue paper.
Why are you going to this CON? Looking to be discovered? Looking for a way to push yourself into the line of sight of someone with the power to help your career? Are you going to impress your friends, family, or local chapter members? Are you out of your mind?
Do amazing things happen to some people at conferences? Sure. Have you had great experiences in pitch appointments before? Probably. Are you going because you are serious about your career and want to be in the right place at the right time, just in case? Of course.
But this is the attitude I'm packing.
Of course it's a lot of money. I believe I'm worth an indulgence like this.
What am I indulging in?
I'm going to go somewhere, for five days, where I can talk with people around me, about the activity in my life that I find most rewarding.
I won't have to explain why I write, or why I would want to invest so many hours into something that may never pay off in actual money.
I won't have to listen to (too many) jokes about sex scenes.
I won't have to explain the publishing industry, or what the difference is between an agent and an editor.
I won't have to listen to anyone ask why it's taking so long to hear back from those people who were considering my book.
Everyone attending will be in one of four boats:
Beginner
PRO
PAN (Published)
Or Industry professional
I can relate to anyone in any of the four boats. I could walk into the lobby, join a random group of women in the midst of their conversation and feel perfectly at home. You could gather any six writers and put them around a lunch table and they could happily talk for hours.
The point, Newanda, is that writers conferences are for writers. While the industry professionals are certainly the cherries on top, it's more a chance to eat ice cream with like minds and know that we are not alone. And if you've never been to a BIG CON, you really don't understand the magic of meeting a perfect stranger and knowing, in another life, you'd be absolutely soul-deep friends.
We're like scientists, really.
In their daily lives, scientist teach science from the bottom up. But scientists getting together with other scientists is what gives our civilization hope. They don't discuss basics; they stand on the pinacles of what they know and they push each other to look beyond, to stretch, to move past the tools...and create.
So there is my tissue paper, the attitude I'm packing. I'm going for all the possibilities of elbow rubbing, sure. But if nothing happens there, I won't be kicking myself for having attended. The real reason I'm going is for the ice cream and the inspiration I'll get from my fellow writers. THAT plan cannot fail.
So don't kill yourself memorizing each little word of your pitch. Don't waste an hour deciding on those perfectly unique earrings, and plan for a fun time. Dye, wax, tan, and get nails, but know that you're doing it all for you.
And oh, yeah. DEDUCT EVERYTHING!
Lesli
Big Con=Big Conference, not the Con of Man, not "the thing you're wasting money on". Not judging the way you spend your money. Not judging the Con. Not judging you. Got it?
The Big CON in my world is RWA Nationals.
It's costing me hearth and home to attend. I don't even want to think about what else I could have done with the money, things that would have been more lasting. Ooops. Just thought about them. Crap.
Moving along.
Let's say you're going to Nationals too. My packing advice will work for any conference, but we'll just use this one as an example.
While you're packing that outfit for the perfect pitch you're going to throw down the gullet of the agent or editor on your wish list of victims, imagine yourself not pitching well. Go ahead. Oh, for Pete's sake, just try it.
Imagine finding absolutely no one important (to your career) on the elevator with you ALL WEEK.
Imagine only other writers at your tables, in your restaurants, and in your lobbies. No chance to pitch, no elbows to rub, no faces to match those VIPs you've been stalking on line, nor anyone running around with a shark's head (Janet Reid).
Imagine the only agents and editors you see are on the panels you attend. Your pitch appointments go well, but no one gushed over you, or offered to sign you on the spot.
The clothing choices are fantastic, but no one notices them but you. Everyone else is a little too preoccupied with what they themselves are wearing . And you see seven people wearing the same pair of earrings, three have the same sandals, and the one woman who owns a copy of your dress sits at your table on Awards night.
Decide now, while packing those clothes, what attitude you're going to pack along with them, in between each outfit, like a layer of tissue paper.
Why are you going to this CON? Looking to be discovered? Looking for a way to push yourself into the line of sight of someone with the power to help your career? Are you going to impress your friends, family, or local chapter members? Are you out of your mind?
Do amazing things happen to some people at conferences? Sure. Have you had great experiences in pitch appointments before? Probably. Are you going because you are serious about your career and want to be in the right place at the right time, just in case? Of course.
But this is the attitude I'm packing.
Of course it's a lot of money. I believe I'm worth an indulgence like this.
What am I indulging in?
I'm going to go somewhere, for five days, where I can talk with people around me, about the activity in my life that I find most rewarding.
I won't have to explain why I write, or why I would want to invest so many hours into something that may never pay off in actual money.
I won't have to listen to (too many) jokes about sex scenes.
I won't have to explain the publishing industry, or what the difference is between an agent and an editor.
I won't have to listen to anyone ask why it's taking so long to hear back from those people who were considering my book.
Everyone attending will be in one of four boats:
Beginner
PRO
PAN (Published)
Or Industry professional
I can relate to anyone in any of the four boats. I could walk into the lobby, join a random group of women in the midst of their conversation and feel perfectly at home. You could gather any six writers and put them around a lunch table and they could happily talk for hours.
The point, Newanda, is that writers conferences are for writers. While the industry professionals are certainly the cherries on top, it's more a chance to eat ice cream with like minds and know that we are not alone. And if you've never been to a BIG CON, you really don't understand the magic of meeting a perfect stranger and knowing, in another life, you'd be absolutely soul-deep friends.
We're like scientists, really.
In their daily lives, scientist teach science from the bottom up. But scientists getting together with other scientists is what gives our civilization hope. They don't discuss basics; they stand on the pinacles of what they know and they push each other to look beyond, to stretch, to move past the tools...and create.
So there is my tissue paper, the attitude I'm packing. I'm going for all the possibilities of elbow rubbing, sure. But if nothing happens there, I won't be kicking myself for having attended. The real reason I'm going is for the ice cream and the inspiration I'll get from my fellow writers. THAT plan cannot fail.
So don't kill yourself memorizing each little word of your pitch. Don't waste an hour deciding on those perfectly unique earrings, and plan for a fun time. Dye, wax, tan, and get nails, but know that you're doing it all for you.
And oh, yeah. DEDUCT EVERYTHING!
Lesli
Friday, January 15, 2010
Holy Cow, I'm Happy.
So I was fantasizing yesterday about being the next Stephanie Meyer or JKR and wondered what it would be like to have all that money, to be a NYTBSA and obtain the fame and vindication that would complete my life.
(And yes, I'm pretty sure that's what I'm after--oh, and a lifetime's supply of chocolate covered almonds).
I dragged my husband in on the fantasy, since such an occurance would also change his life. We debated on selling the house, but decided to stay and add on (so our autistic son wouldn't have wasted the last 21 years of his life memorizing an address only to have us MOVE.)
I was excited about the prospect of having a maid, but Hubby claims he wants to stay home and be Mr. Mom. He doesn't mind cleaning the toilets either. I suspect he would rather do that than allow strangers access to his bathroom.
So we decided to travel. He suggested buying a motorhome and driving around the country to visit our children. I pointed out that it was nearly certain all of them will live within 30 miles, even after the last of them marries.
We'd spend a lot on food and eat anything we want...but we already do that.
We'd spoil our children...done.
We'd buy new cars, but our neighbors would think we'd moved if there weren't at least a trio of paintless wonders in our driveway. Even family would drive past saying "Oh, that can't be it."
I know there are a lot of big things I haven't even touched upon here, but the point, Newanda, is that this little conversation made me realize that I don't want my life to change. I like my life. I'd like my bank account to change--who wouldn't--but the life? It's pretty good.
Then I realized what this meant: Holy shit! I'm happy.
When did that happen? Where was I? When was somebody going to tell ME for hell sakes?
So who knows? Maybe I'll be a kinder, gentler writer who only encourages you to focus on your writing with uplifting stories of patience and success.
Maybe NOT!
I may be happy, but you aren't! And you're not going to be happy until you've finished that damned book, or short story, or article for your church newsletter (cough, cough). (And yes, the coughing was to cover up the LAUGHTER. If you're only writing for the church ladies, why in the hell are you reading this blog?)
Happy Ainsley who has not misplaced her whip.
(And yes, I'm pretty sure that's what I'm after--oh, and a lifetime's supply of chocolate covered almonds).
I dragged my husband in on the fantasy, since such an occurance would also change his life. We debated on selling the house, but decided to stay and add on (so our autistic son wouldn't have wasted the last 21 years of his life memorizing an address only to have us MOVE.)
I was excited about the prospect of having a maid, but Hubby claims he wants to stay home and be Mr. Mom. He doesn't mind cleaning the toilets either. I suspect he would rather do that than allow strangers access to his bathroom.
So we decided to travel. He suggested buying a motorhome and driving around the country to visit our children. I pointed out that it was nearly certain all of them will live within 30 miles, even after the last of them marries.
We'd spend a lot on food and eat anything we want...but we already do that.
We'd spoil our children...done.
We'd buy new cars, but our neighbors would think we'd moved if there weren't at least a trio of paintless wonders in our driveway. Even family would drive past saying "Oh, that can't be it."
I know there are a lot of big things I haven't even touched upon here, but the point, Newanda, is that this little conversation made me realize that I don't want my life to change. I like my life. I'd like my bank account to change--who wouldn't--but the life? It's pretty good.
Then I realized what this meant: Holy shit! I'm happy.
When did that happen? Where was I? When was somebody going to tell ME for hell sakes?
So who knows? Maybe I'll be a kinder, gentler writer who only encourages you to focus on your writing with uplifting stories of patience and success.
Maybe NOT!
I may be happy, but you aren't! And you're not going to be happy until you've finished that damned book, or short story, or article for your church newsletter (cough, cough). (And yes, the coughing was to cover up the LAUGHTER. If you're only writing for the church ladies, why in the hell are you reading this blog?)
Happy Ainsley who has not misplaced her whip.
Monday, August 10, 2009
CHEERLEADING PRACTICE
READY? Okay!
As a new or reinvented writer, is your hook as important as your book?
Yes.
Is your query as crucial as your book?
Yes.
Is your synopsis as important as your book?
Yes.
Voice?
Yes.
Concept?
Yes.
Pitch?
OF COURSE!
WHAT DOES IT SPELL?
P.A.C.K.A.G.E.
You are going to need the whole package to sell that book, team. Now check your pompoms and megaphone. Make sure your shoes are tied and your rockets are in place. (Clean underwear, jic.) Warm up your vocal chords and get out there. This game won't win itself.
As a new or reinvented writer, is your hook as important as your book?
Yes.
Is your query as crucial as your book?
Yes.
Is your synopsis as important as your book?
Yes.
Voice?
Yes.
Concept?
Yes.
Pitch?
OF COURSE!
WHAT DOES IT SPELL?
P.A.C.K.A.G.E.
You are going to need the whole package to sell that book, team. Now check your pompoms and megaphone. Make sure your shoes are tied and your rockets are in place. (Clean underwear, jic.) Warm up your vocal chords and get out there. This game won't win itself.
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