Tag Archives: writing

Don’t Fly With Me–

Posted on by
Reply

Jack’s Wednesday guest blog – –

Like many people, I watched replays of 9/11 and the twin towers a couple of days ago, and I was reminded of the horror of it all.

Then I envisaged an imaginary phone conversation that might have happened afterwards between two imaginary characters called Dubya and Tone –

Tone: Hi Dubya – Just wanted to say how everyone here was horrified about what happened, and we send you our thoughts and prayers.

Dubya: Thanks, Tone, and we use thoughts and prayers a lot over here. They’re very useful.

Tone: So, do you have any idea who did this and who’s behind it?

Dubya: Oh, yes – our guys have all the intel. The hijackers were almost all Saudis, and so was the man who planned it. The pilots got their visas through the Saudi embassy and trained over here.

Tone: So you’ll be hitting the Saudis hard, then? Bomb them back to the Stone Age like your Dad did in Iraq?

Dubya: Well, not exactly. There’s the oil and our arms sales to them, and some are good friends.

Tone: What, then?

Dubya: Unfinished business in Iraq.

Tone: But they didn’t have anything to do with it, and one of our best scientists is part of the UN team that just concluded they don’t have any WMDs.

Dubya: You’d do me a big favor if you could take care of that and join me in what I’ll call ‘Operation Crusade’.

Tone: Done – he committed suicide in the woods near his house – no witnesses and no inquiry. So the guy behind this is in Iraq? I think he’s called Bin Laden? Isn’t crusade a bit provocative?

Dubya: He’s in the mountains between Afghanistan and Pakistan, and my good friend has interests there. We need a pipeline through there to get oil to the Indian Ocean.

Tone: Well, far be it for me to say, but we tried it in the 1800s, and the Soviets tried it in the 1900s, and both of us failed.

Dubya: So, can I count on you?

Tone: Of course!

Bin Laden: Perfect – – – –

Jack: I didn’t show Wendy this post.

Finding the Joy in the Journey

Posted on by
Reply

The garden has its second planting. The canner is going full tilt. I got another personal rejection from a fiction agent.

It’s a journey. The rejection was friendly, kind even, and specific about the reasons. It’s good grist for the improvement mill, and I’m grateful that 1) I am now consistently getting past the interns with most agent queries, and 2) some agents are kind enough to supply feedback, believing in the maturity of the author to incorporate it rather than fling it back in their face. Good on ya, agents. Your job can be emotionally draining, and it’s so helpful when you send that kind of information.

When I get a personal rejection, it feels invigorating. Someone cared enough to read my work and give me an honest opinion. That’s quite something in today’s crowded, noisy world. It means there’s a reason to fight another day to get my work to the right person.

Agents are a lot like dating: you have to find the person whose worldview either aligns or at least encompasses yours. You have to impress each other. You have to learn to trust and believe in each other. It’s a LOT like dating.

And it’s actually fun. In a success-driven society where people literally make “friends” with each other based on how useful they think you’re going to be to them later, hunting an agent feels honest. And like a learning opportunity. It’s a financial contract with emotional edges. It’s a strategic process where you learn what works and what doesn’t, pit what you think against advice from experts, and learn to flex.

As you send your five queries per week, it can feel like a game. Which is a good thing. Helps you keep your sanity as you add another rejection to the RESPONSE column of your query spreadsheet.

These days those response entries say things like “Personal no, too much romance,” and “personal no, possible reconsideration if…” When I scroll up a dozen entries, I wasn’t getting past the interns. A spreadsheet doesn’t just keep you from querying someone twice, it shows you progress.

Forward, onward, north to Narnia – or Chicago, New York, Charleston. Not all the awesome agents are in NYC.

There’s a joy in the journey, and a satisfaction to knowing you’re writing something worth looking at. To having done the work. The gatekeepers are part of the work, so make them part of the fun.