Of Black Dogs, Capsules and Things That Go Bump In The Night

I spend at least an hour every day reading blogs of different agents that have caught my eye. I like to think that when I find an agent he/she will become my friend and partner. I read blogs by writers too and I'm always surprised to find that many tend to see agents as some sort of demi-gods that have glowing auras surrounding them and a background of angels to sing quiet background to their golden words. I guess "hero worship" is a good term. I don't get it. When you have a legal issue you hire a lawyer. Do you get all googoo eyed when you meet him for the first time to sign those papers? When you get a rash you go to a doctor. Do you wonder why he lets God sit in his chair? If you want  your house painted do you curtsy when the painter arrives on your doorstep?

I am in awe of the terrific and underappreciated job that agents do, but I'm not a big fan of hero worship. I respect my doctors (I call them by their first name with their permission) and I am appreciative of the work my attorney does for me, and I almost kissed the last painter right on the lips when he showed up just in time to keep me from painting my bedroom ceiling myself. Like everyone else I have favorite celebrities; if I weren't having a hysterectomy next week I might still offer to have Randy Travis's children and I think Vampire Bill is just the sexiest thing since edible panties. But, they're humans just like you and me. As my grandaddy would say, "they put on their pants one leg at a time, same as I do" (I do blushingly admit there are a few people I'd pay to be able to watch).

Although I don't follow for the same reasons that some writers apparently do, I follow avidly the blogs of several of the agents that have caught my eye. One of them recently admitted a problem with depression and explained how she deals with it. And asked her readers if they thought that writers and other people in creative industries were more liable to suffer from depression than "normal" people. Having never been normal, I don't have an answer for that. I do however suffer from mild depression and always have. I am empathic, and I grew up with a manic depressive/schizophrenic parent. I felt every mood swing that my mother felt, at an age far too young to have a clue what I was feeling or how to deal with it. That made me look at the world in a slightly different angle than "normal" people view it. I fear different bumps in the night than do most people.

I answered her question in my usual 'wordy' way (someday I really must learn how to edit myself) as follows:

1. I’ve been around the block a few times as a non-fiction writer, and am now finding that after all these years of hard work and a satisfying amount of success I’m literally the low man on the totem pole when it comes to finding a helpful ear for my fiction (which is in my opinion MUCH better than my non-fiction ever was!)

2. My dad died three weeks ago, after a brief (less than a week), unexpected illness.

3. Two days after his funeral I was diagnosed with uterine cancer.

4. I broke two front teeth and my dental insurance won’t take effect until October.

5. The one of these that concerns me the most and is most likely to send me spiraling towards the bottom is the first thing on the list. I am depressed that it is so difficult in the publishing world, and I’m having to start from scratch again at this “advanced age” of 52.

Cancer? Been there done that (breast, four year survivor). This time it’s a snap; robotic hysterectomy and I’m back at the computer in four days. My dad lived 80 years and prayed to die in his sleep and his prayers were answered. The teeth will eventually get fixed and until then, heck, what do I have to smile about anyway?

The point of all that is to say that life in all its ups and downs is what we make of it. It is who we are when we wake up in the morning that makes the decision about how we will react to the things that happen to us. I’ve been on mild antidepressants since I was 30. I thank heaven for pharmaceuticals that gave me a choice that my mother never had. Even with drugs though sometimes we have no control over what our minds tell our bodies to do. Many of us have black dogs nipping at our heels for much of our lives. Some days we’re able to toss them a Milkbone and they go back to their den for a while, other days it seems easier to just let them feast on us. We learn to write the highs in our stories on the days that we feel them and the lows when we can best describe them from a personal point of view. And on other days, if we’re good writers, we’ve learned to fake it well enough to get the right thought across to readers. (I find sometimes writing a high when I’m feeling low can actually give me a lift and sadly, vice versa).

Do writers have more bouts with depression than “normal” people? I think maybe we just are honest with ourselves about it more often because we’re used to working in our heads. And working alone. You have to know yourself pretty well to be a good writer. Self-awareness is the first step to treating any problem. Says the woman who suddenly has 50 pounds too many under her belt (or it would be if any of them still fit me).

Thanks [unnamed agent] for being honest. For introducing to the world the you that you see when you look in a mirror. Most people could benefit from that kind of honesty.

So, now I pass along that question. Do you think writers are more prone to depression than "normal" people? And do we handle that depression differently?

Dealing With Rejection

If you're a writer and you would like to see your words in black and white someplace other than your computer screen or printer, you will have to submit those words to someone in a position to make that dream come true. You and two-hundred-bazillion equal or better qualified, equally and more talented writers than yourself. And the few million that couldn't write their way out of a paper bag but because of their tenacity will someday wear someone down enough to print their drivel.

Because of the sheer numbers involved, the law of averages tallies up to the sad fact that there are thousands more rejection letters mailed out daily from agents and publishers than there are letters with a more positive message. Occasionally you read about a lucky writer who just happened to get their first query letter describing their first novel to an agent who just happened to be looking for just such a project and they were signed immediately with a million-dollar advance. Once you have completed creating the voodoo doll of this charmed writer and have inflicted whatever curses you feel necessary for justice to be served, you must face the fact that you are going to be receiving a lot of negative replies before you receive the golden one that makes all the angst "worth it."

All of us have different ways of dealing with rejection.

• Some of us curl up in a fetal position in the corner and cry and lose weight because we have lost the will to live, much less eat. This would not be me. I, obviously, proven by recent pictures of myself, have never lost the will to eat nor am likely to. No matter the crisis. If they'd have taken that tube out of my throat I would have happily scarfed down a tomato sandwich while they were cutting my leg in two to put in a knee replacement.
• Some of us read the letters again and again, hoping to find something positive amidst those most negative of words "does not meet our needs at this time." Which we all know is agentese for "sorriest piece of ill-written trash to cross a desk since Mt. Rushmore was dust." We pretend that this letter is actually an invitation to keep sending them queries; that they are stating they are sure that eventually they will indeed "need" something that we have written. These are the eternal optomists of the sort that as children were thrilled with the gift of a room full of manure because "there has to be a pony in here somewhere!"

• Some of us snort and delete or toss the rejection in the trash, proudly and loudly stating that "it's their loss" as we open up another document and start over with a new potential blockbuster. While our soul quietly curls into a corner and cries and loses weight because it has lost the will to live.

• Occasionally some of us will use the constructive criticism in our mounting pile of rejection letters to realize that if everyone in the parade is marching in time except us, it's possible that maybe WE are the one that need to get in step if we want to keep up.
• More often than not, most of us will at some point get to the place in our career when we are certain that if we receive one more rejection letter we are going to snap. For those dear writers, poised on the brink of pubishing suicide, I pen the following suggestion of a reply so you can go out with a bang instead of whimper.

Dear Polite Agent,

Thank you for your letter rejecting the manuscript of a novel that I submitted for your perusal “because it did not meet your needs at this time.”

Over time, I have received rejections from a large number of equally well qualified agents. With such a varied and promising spectrum of rejections from which to select, it is impossible for me to consider them all. After careful deliberation, then, and because a number of agencies have found better reasons than that which you gave to reject me, I regret to inform you that I am unable to accept your letter of rejection.

Despite your agency’s outstanding qualifications and stellar previous experience in rejecting manuscripts and queries, I find that your rejection does not meet with my needs at this time. As a result, I will expect my novel to be enthusiastically sent by you to publishers around the globe starting Monday.

Circumstances change and one can never know when new demands for rejection arise. Accordingly, I will keep your letter on file in case my requirements for rejection change. I would suggest that you do a Google or Bing search to find groups and forums filled with budding writers who might more readily accept your polite note rejecting the piece of their soul that they have sent you.

Please do not regard this letter as a criticism of your qualifications in attempting to refuse me representation. I wish you the best of luck in rejecting future authors.

Sincerely,
A Thoroughly Disgusted Writer





(c. Bobbye Land Hudspeth..... if they like it, be sure you give me credit now. If it makes them angry, I never saw it before in my life!)

A Little Bird Told Me

I'm not handling all this new social stuff very well.

I'm not a hermit, but I lead a pretty private life. My nearest neighbor/farm is 1/4 mile from my house. You can't see my house from the road. I don't belong to any clubs or organizations that require regular attendance, and I haven't been to a "real" party (you know, one that didn't sell Tupperware or sexy underwear) since Jesus was in diapers.

Now, suddenly, here I am doing the equivalent of standing in the middle of the four-lane, buck naked with my arms waving in the air hollering "look at me, look at me." I feel like the girl whose mother tied pork chops around her neck so the dog would play with her. I used to have publishers email me and ask me to write non-fiction for them. Now, I'm reduced to playing games and begging someone to read my fiction work. *sigh*

When I was in the second grade and I came upon an empty school room with an invitingly clean blackboard, I used the minutes until I was discovered to write my name many times in newly-learned cursive. When I was discovered, I was shamed by having to write underneath my name "A fool's name and a fool's face are always seen in a public place."

Now, four decades later I'm writing my name all over the most public place imaginable, the Internet, hoping someone notices. And hopefully doesn't think I'm a fool.

I have learned that even when you think you are shouting into a bottomless pit, there is almost always someone listening. Say nothing you don't really want someone to hear. A few days ago, overwhelmed by page after page of 'notes' on my Twitter home page, I wrote, "OK, I need an agent dammit. D'ya think running naked through streets holding a manuscript aloft would help? *looks in mirror* Never mind."

Who knew people actually read those things?

Embarrassingly enough, today I got a Tweet (Twit?) from an agent who had seen that Tweet/Twit and offered to "take a look." If that should pan out, wouldn't that be a story to tell 'em around the campfire!?

Socialization Is So Important

I always stressed that to people who bought my puppies over the years. Nothing can compare to the well-rounded adult that was brought up being well-socialized.

Now, other writers, agents and publishers are telling me the same thing. I must become a social creature and join all sorts of forums, blogs and social websites. I am learning how to Tweet and I have a writer's page on Facebook. I joined LinkedIn and before I could get a profile finished, I was getting emails telling me I needed to "check what Samantha is up to." Since I don't know a Samantha I didn't rush to check out her page. Within the next ten minutes, I'd somehow been "linked in" to over a hundred people. Many of them casual acquaintances, some of them friends, some I've worked with in the past and a majority of total strangers. I finally traced Samantha down as owning a store where the sister of one of my friends shops! Apparently when I told them NOT to go to my address book they used the same selective deafness that Buford the Big Blue Dog uses when I tell him to stop stealing bread, and they rifled through my e-mail address book like a pervert in an undies drawer. And they dug all the way to the bottom of the drawer too. And sent an invitation to not only all my panties, but also invited the panties of my neighbor's sister's uncle's best friend's maid to link to me!

If you got a request to "link with me" and you don't know me, or haven't heard from me since I developed breasts, I apologize. I haven't been back in to see what havoc has been wreaked. I'm a little afraid to. It's like watching an episode of "This Is Your Life" gone terribly wrong and the "guest" is reintroduced to people from their past that were in the past for a reason.

I guess I'm handling all the socialization well. At least nobody has jumped out from behind a bush and snapped open an umbrella in front of me. (And only dog people will know WTF that means).

Warning: Exhausted and Grumpy Writer Ahead

I am literally wearing myself out trying to have documents on hand to fit the requests of any other agents that might contact me.

I have saved both novels (why oh why didn't I listen to the people who said focus on just one? Although doing that is sort of like a parent admitting they have a favorite child) in a variety of fonts and formats. I've backed up, rebacked and printed and saved and I'm so confused now that some poor agent is likely to receive a copy of my Facebook status or my father's eulogy instead of what she's asked for.

In the middle of all of this I downloaded Dropbox because I kept reading about it on different agent blogs. Sounds good. You just put in it copies of stuff you want to protect or have available from other computers, and voila. What no one told me was that when you "drop and drag" (as instructed) files into Dropbox, they are no longer on your desktop. Imagine my horror when I came back after lunch and opened my Hot Bubbles and Chocolate file and it said "this file is empty." Heart attack city! (Better than a hospital stress test... now I know my heart can take anything).

I quickly learned to copy and paste into Dropbox. Yeah, I know. Unnecessary. But, I am too old to just blithely trust all these newfangled inventions.

Nothing in the mail today. At least there wasn't a rejection!

*sigh*

Your Post Has Been Sent

Well, it's done. My newly hashed synopsis of Hot Bubbles and Chocolate, my bio and the first three chapters of the book are now wending their way through cyberspace to what I hope will be gentle and welcoming hands at the agent who brightened my world by requesting further info. Thank you Arliss for being there and doing the voo do that you do so well!

I'm too exhausted, emotionally and physically, to do anything but play solitaire. And dream. And think about what I shoulda, woulda, coulda done differently.

Ah well. Tomorra is anothah day. (I did mention I'm Southern, right?)

Out Of the Darkness, There Came a Voice

OK, it wasn't a voice. It was an email. But, it came at exactly the right time. No matter what comes of it, it's a wonderful thing to be told that you've "intrigued" someone with your writing. Especially someone who "matters" (not that the readers who have already been intrigued with Hot Bubbles...Lori, Dennis, Pete, Clark and Arliss et al... don't matter, you know what I meant).

I opened the morning e-mail to find:

I was intrigued by your project and would like to see the first three chapters of the manuscript. It would be great if you could EMAIL me, as an attachment that could open in Word (rather than a PDF) the first three chapters, a brief one- or two-page synopsis, and a short bio (including a list of any previous publications).To expedite the review process, please write REQUESTED MATERIAL in the subject heading.

Thanks for contacting me. I look forward to reading your work.

Regards,
Another Unnamed Agent

I'll bet they say that ... "I'm intrigued"...to everybody, but for now, let's pretend I'm special.

Of course this means I immediately have to start preparing yet another synopsis (longer this time, whew) and re-edit and then re-re-edit the first three chapters. And dash the synopsis off to Arliss for a quick readover. I'll send it all tomorrow after I double and triple check everything again.

I'm psyched.

The Sharp Sting of Rejection

After joining beaucoup (boo-coo? anyway, a heck of a lot of) writer's forums, and lurking at dozens of agent's blogs, I had resigned myself to settling in for a long wait before I hear from an agent after submitting my query.

Suffice it to say, SOMEONE out there not only doesn't like me/my writing, but is quick on the draw to tell me so. My first rejection arrives in the morning email.

Dear Ms. Hudspeth,

Thank you for sending me your query. Unfortunately, your project isn’t right for my list, so I’m going to pass. The number of queries I receive makes it impossible for me to provide personalized feedback, but you might try www.agentquery.com, if you haven’t already, for a better editorial match.

Best of luck with your agent search.
The Unnamed Agent

Ouch.

Her polite suggestion would be really helpful... if I hadn't gotten the info to send my query to her from, wait for it, agentquery.com. I had submitted Hot Bubbles and Chocolate to her because her personal agency page as well as the blurb on agentquery.com said she was interested in "chick lit, women's, contemporary fiction." I guess it was just me. Sob.

No more e-mail. And my mind whirling in too many directions to write. Thank goodness for TiVo and the fact that Criminal Minds and Whose Line Is It Anyway run on lots of different channels giving me an unending supply.

I wonder if you can develop a taste for hard liquor?

Hitting Send. Really. Hitting Send. Now.

I never knew my pinkie finger could be so strong. My mind tells me to hit the enter key which will send the query letter to one of the six agents I have chosen with whom to possibly start my journey.

I have pored over submissions policies, suggestions and requests. Most went via email, a couple went directly from an agent's website. Not sure if I like that idea or not. At least I know I answered the questions they wanted answered in the amount of space they required. It will probably be much easier to be ignored that way though, or forgotten. Of course, it's very easy to hit 'delete' to an email too. *sigh*

If only there was a "one size fits all" template so this stuff could be done once and then get back to writing. But this agent wants things one way, another wants the opposite. One is my kind of agent, wanting a lot of info up front, with a fairly lengthy bio and synopsis. This I can do. The next says that query, bio and synopsis all-together should be no longer than one page. I can write more than that about my breakfast cereal. Now, I guess, is when I learn how to edit, chop and further mutilate my already prepared bio, query and synopsis. By the time I get finished, it's going to read little more than "I'm a writer. I've been published a lot of times but nothing you'll recognize. Now, I've written a book about the Civil War. A lot of people die but then a lot get happy. Please represent me." Ack.

Another agent wants 12 TNR (which I now, after doing a quick Bing-search, know means Times New Roman font), first 2 pages, no bio and an "intriguing query that will knock my socks off." I put that one off 'til last. Maybe with practice I'll become better at sock-knocking.

Finally, all the letters are written. The requested pages have been formatted according to each person's preference. Websites have been double-checked to be sure that the spelling of the particular agent I'm querying is correct (and current). A bio has been written that makes me (hopefully) sound interesting, knowledgeable and immediately gives the impression of you'd-be-a-fool-to-let-me-go. The synopsis has been written, rewritten and then written again. How do you condense 20 chapters into less than one page? Again, ACK. This has been an all-day job. Not a single word got written except those trying to prove to someone that I don't know that I is indeed a writer and words, they is my life.

My finger hovers over the send button, and then, one by one my children go out into cyberspace to hopefully find a loving home where they will be appreciated, nurtured and allowed to grow into books I will be happy to call mine.

I wish I drank.

To Market, To Market

OK, as the first day of the rest of my fiction writing career, I start by opening my Writer's Market book. Geez. How overwhelming. My eyes are crossing trying to make heads and tails of agents and publishers, their wants and needs and their submission preferences. Good thing I don't have a "day job." How do people get published and lead normal lives with kids and families and jobs and bills? I'm lucky that I have time to focus just on writing, and I still am having a hard time keeping up!

I finally get my rhythm going, and a few hours later, my Writer's Market looks like it's years old instead of just months. Pages are tattered, folded, spindled and mutilated...and marked with a rainbow of marker colors. A pink line means that the agent (I decided to focus on agents and try to get signed with someone who will handle all this tedious query stuff so I can actually have time to write again, instead of also querying publishers directly) is one that handles my genre(s). A green line denotes ones that accepts email submissions. I am far too green (environmentally, not jealous) to waste all the paper necessary to send manuscripts that may well end up in a wastebasket somewhere. Besides, email is faster and I'll have a definite record of who I sent what to when. Yellow means they are currently accepting queries and new clients. Eventually I'll go back through and make a list of the ones with all three colors.

For now, I'm trying to find agencies that have at least one agent who focuses on the different types of manuscripts I currently have available, as well as those that are 'baking.' I enjoy working on different types of manuscripts, so I need to find an agent who is willing to work in different genres instead of fixated on one.

Behind the Gray needs an agent that loves history and historical novels. Hot Bubbles and Chocolate needs an agent that loves to laugh and can find humor in day-to-day life.

After too many hours staring at fine print, I squeak in a couple of hours of editing. Tomorrow, I write query letters. Tonight I watch reruns of Frasier and wish I could write as well as their writers!