A Reading Disorder

I am a wordaholic. Like most writers, I eat, drink, breathe, and vomit words. Especially vomit.

Writers – along with musicians, artists, and other creative types – in my opinion, are the cultural equivalents of bulimics.

I am a pop culture bulimic.

For Christmas, I received roughly a dozen books. I have more books than my local library, no lie. It’s like a sickness. Here’s what I do with all these books: I sneak books in the dead of night, while the kids are at school, on my lap at the kitchen table during meals, in the parent pick-up line at school. I binge on words. I stuff my head with millions of words written by a thousand other authors, pushing the perimeter of my mind incrementally farther and farther. If I wore a hat, it would absolutely have to have one of those plastic adjuster things on the back. Or elastic — oooh, yeah, elastic; like the waistband of my fat-day sweatpants. In this stealthy manner, I add much to my own intracranial cesspool, where my own ideas and words bob around, and I cling to my own stuff, hoping it’ll buoy me up and out of obscurity.

I gorge myself in a never-ending vocab lesson, an eternal workshop for one, reading, reading, always reading. I read everything – good, bad, awful, amazing… The quality doesn’t matter to me – each book is a lesson; I devour them all. Fiction, non-fiction, comic books, how-tos, horror, transgressive, new, old – none of that matters. Of course, most of the mainstream stuff has the same flavor. The Twinkies. But, once in a great while, I find a Godiva truffle in the works of Palahniuk or Selby or… somebody. (Okay, I lied — sometimes the quality does matter to me. I do like to savor a book once in a while.)

And then, I purge.

When writers purge, their vomit feeds the reading disorders of other writers, fills the heads of Wal-Mart shoppers. I only hope that my literary puke is more liquid than solid. Some writers don’t digest the world before spilling their guts all over their laptops. It’s so easy to tell who’s got an original voice and who’s just regurgitating chunks of the latest and greatest. The chunks are the giveaway. The better-digested, more fluid ideas are so much easier to blend with your own words and ideas. It’s okay to be influenced, but you have to stay true to your own voice, too = look at how big the chunks in your spew are. Are you digesting before you purge?

Hi, I’m Slushpilehero and I’m a pop culture bulimic.

So This Is Christmas

Okay, here it is, the final push toward the most highly anticipated day of the year (well, at least that’s what it is in my house). Things are getting crazy — presents still need to be wrapped, Christmas cards need to be sent out, suitcases need to be packed, dogs need to be bathed… But, at least the requisite baking of cookies is done (they’ve all been eaten, too — no, we don’t need anymore!).

My work-in-progress has been set aside for the holidays. How long can I go without working on it? That remains to be seen. Last year, I was in the middle of a second rewrite of POP ART at Christmas and I brought it on vacation with me because I couldn’t put it down. I did participate in family festivities and limited my work time to normal sleeping hours, so it worked out. I don’t know how this year will work, though. My wip is constantly on my mind — I’m hoping the structure will work itself out in my head over the next week, but then I’ll, of course, feel compelled to write it down the second I hit that magical “a-ha!” moment. You know what I’m talking about.

In any case, have a wonderful holiday. I’ll be back soon with a new Meet Me On Monday (with author @PennyAsh) and maybe a few other pithy things. Agents, I’m getting a new cell phone for Christmas but I’ll still have the same phone number (hint hint). 

(Hope I get Chuck Palahniuk’s Lullaby — the only book of his I haven’t read yet!)

I am not a special and unique snowflake

I am not a special and unique snowflake. But, with some really freaking hard work, I can make my stories and my characters special and unique snowflakes. I’ve read all the how-to books, the magazines, taken classes, been critiqued and praised — it’s still not enough. I have to press on, learn more, work harder, work smarter. My career as a writer is a blank canvas — it is up to me whether it turns out to be a kindergartener’s mediocre fingerpainting or an iconic Warhol soup can. 2010, watch out.

(This was my contest entry over at Eisley Jacobs’s chocolate contest, but it sounds like a damn good New Year’s resolution-type deal to me.)

Meet Me On Monday

Something new on the blog: beginning this Monday (tomorrow), I plan to have a series of short interviews with creative minds, called MEET ME ON MONDAY — because we all need a little something to look forward to on Mondays. I will use the debut for a little self-interview so we can see how it’s going to work first.

Whom do I want to interview (or is that who? it’s sad that i’m not sure)?  Anyone who wants a little more publicity (come on, who couldn’t use some of that?) — so, whether you’re an aspiring author, a NYT best-selling scribe, an agent, an editor, an artist, or a musician, sign up for an interview. I promise to be nice and it’ll be one more plug for your book/CD/art/agency/magazine, whatever. I may even send you a chocolate bar just for playing. You don’t have to be a superstar or anything — just interesting.

All you have to do is leave me your e-mail address in a comment below, or, alternately, DM it to me on Twitter (I’m @slushpilehero), and I’ll send you a few questions (no more than six?). E-mail your answers back to me — you can be long-winded, a one-word responder, or somewhere in between; serious or not-so-serious — and I’ll post them in interview form right here on a future Monday morning.

Come on, you know you want more people to buy your stuff!

Slushie’s Query Tip of the Day

Okay, new feature here. I noticed that I get a lot of hits on my queries. Why? I don’t know. I think it’s quite funny, actually. I am not an agent, editor, or any kind of publishing person — I’m just a writer, probably like you, lost in the dark bat caves of Query Hell. I get my share of form rejects, but I also get a pretty high positive response rate, too, so… I don’t know what that means – go figure. Subjectivity is a slippery animal.

Anyway, I’ve seen others doling out query advice, and I figured I’m just as qualified as many of them are, so, here we go with my advice. See Slushie’s Query Tip of the Day page (http://wp.me/PH2Hd-6w).

Now is the winter of my discontent

Not really — I just wanted to say that.

As promised in my initial post on this time-sucking blog, I am going to tell you patient people some more about my bumpy road to publication. (I will make it someday, oh, yes, I will. I am so close, I can taste it.)

So, I got a rejection this morning — last night, actually. I wasn’t really crushed. Though, as it was my first choice in the agent race, you’d think I would have been totally devastated, reduced to crying in the corner or something. Huh, I must be growing up. Anyway, this agent, who is a total rock star in the agent world (I’m not going to say her name, but everyone in the Free World and beyond has likely queried her and dreams of being her client), gave me some epic compliments, such as:  “I think you have a lot of talent and a hell of a voice.” And “I wouldn’t have spent so much time on your manuscripts if I didn’t think you were a natural born storyteller.” And, my personal favorite (since, you know, I have that aversion to query-writing): “As always, I’m happy to look at anything else you may have.”

Yeah, it was a rejection, but I’ll take the freaking compliments. I’m a relative beginner at this, and this is a majorly cool agent (who has even read my sad little blog), so I’m not sad in the least. This is good news!

What did I do after savoring my compliments? Sent out more queries, of course.   Just because your number one shoots you down doesn’t mean you should abandon ship.

I just logged into my e-mail and found another request for material, so, you know, onward.

If you get a rejection, people, just keep going. It’s really not a big deal. You’re not looking for a soul mate, you’re looking for someone who thinks they can sell your freaking book. And if it sucks and no one wants it, write another one!

Disbelief and Macroeconomics

Okay, rushing this blog post because I just got back from a trolley ride to/from/through downtown (with a driver who kept trying to sing Christmas carols but didn’t know any of the words; she also thought it suitable to tell a class of kindergarteners about pirates drinking themselves to death and discussing the green beer we drink too much of on St. Patrick’s Day — but, whatever, it’s over now).

Anyway, I have recently discovered that engineers are probably not part of my target audience. How do I know this? Last night, in trying to discuss my wip with hubby, he said: “Wait a minute, that’s not what the story was six months ago. The U.S. would never let Cuba become a Muslim country. Nobody’s gonna believe that.”

So, this brought up the subject of what my audience will believe and what they absolutely will not.

I think that depends upon a writer’s skill, don’t you? I’d like to hear what the fantasy writers have to say about the suspension of disbelief. I mean, if you have characters living in the sewers and half-elf beings flying all over the place, you have to be pretty damn believable. Do you think people are more willing to suspend disbelief regarding fantasy worlds? Are they more critical of “real world” stories, i.e. political thrillers? (*Updated to add: Duh, of course people are more critical of stories set in the real world – but I don’t have time to fix this right now. I’ll be back for repairs later, though.)

I did some research last night regarding real government plans to turn Sri Lanka into a plutonomous playground (oh, Citigroup, you are so clever with your talk of the “plutonomy” class; what’s become of that since the recession hit? ah, an economic discussion for another day). It’s not the same as the situation I’m setting up in my book, but it’s probably the closest thing there is in the real world.  I am learning a lot about the IMF, WTO, and other such letter combinations. I haven’t had this much fun since I took macroeconomics in college! (I’m not being cheeky — I do find it interesting, in a geeky sort of way.) (Also, read Naomi Klein’s The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism! It’s awesome.)

How realistic do I need to be? That is the real bottom line here. My husband is an engineer who does not like movies and does not read fiction, so, while his opinion means a lot to me, I’m not sure it’s representative of my target audience.

Blah. I just read that back and it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but… it’s what I’ve got for right now. I have to drop something off at church and hit the library, so… discuss.

On the Auction of Critiques

I’ve noticed something sketchy just recently:  literary agents “donating” query/partial manuscript critiques to various auctions. I find this disturbing because all conventional wisdom says DO NOT PAY ANY AGENT FOR THIS SERVICE, EVER. Um, how is bidding on it in an auction any different? Oh, the money is going toward a good cause? I’m not seeing that as a compelling reason to pay a reputable agent to read/comment on my material. And who are the people bidding on these services? Is their work of such quality that they can’t otherwise get their stuff in front of good agents? It does not sound like a good idea to me — it sounds like wasting agents’ valuable time and giving sub-par writers attention they do not merit by virtue of solid writing.

Oh, and FinePrint agent Colleen Lindsay made a good point on agent Rachelle Gardner’s blog today (http://cba-ramblings.blogspot.com/), saying:  “We read queries, partials and full manuscripts for free. If you want feedback, hire an editor and pay that editor to give you feedback. That’s what an editor DOES get paid for.”

Maybe it’s just me, but I’m not bidding on an agent’s critique in an auction. Writing groups and beta readers are for critiques, aren’t they? (Bonus:  they don’t charge.)

Coming Soon

In HAPPY ENDINGS, INC., Caleb Exley, sole heir to a failing funeral home hit hard by recession, needs something different, something new, to breathe life back into the family business. Slurping sweet tea with his pals, Grainger Mercer IV (aka “Four”) and Scarlet Lawson, proprietors of competing ghost tour operations, the trio birth an idea to boost their sagging businesses. Inspired by stories of post-mortem photography of the 1800s, new media presentations at a Los Angeles cemetery, and the proliferation of ghost hunting shows on television, the three form Happy Endings, Inc.

Happy Endings, Inc. sells pictures and videos of clients — the newly deceased — on their last night on the town at a fraction of the cost of airfare for the average family of four.  Far-flung relatives are thrilled to see old Grandpa Ed or poor Cousin Serena living it up one last time — even if they are dead.

Wow, what happens to these guys???  I’ll let you know.

 

 

It’s Not A Moon, It’s a Space Station

If you’ve been following my blog, you know about my latest book, SHORT BUS HERO. Well, I’ve had to explain it to a few people over the past few days. You know that, “Oh! I didn’t know you were writing a book!” comment.  Yeah. That’s ugly, man. Anyway, I make it clear that the book features a lottery winner with Down syndrome and that she (the MC) becomes this big wrestling mogul. So, I give these acquaintances the old elevator pitch, and they’re awed, of course, but I just feel like they’re not getting it. I mean, yeah, they’re interested in this superficial explanation, but, there’s just so much more to the story! I do my story such injustice by not pinning these people down and telling them about every single storyline and emotional nuance. I should be tying them to chairs and reading the entire text to them as long as they’re asking!

It’s kind of like writing a query – you just cannot capture all that stuff in one page. The surface is good, but you really need to delve in a little deeper to appreciate what’s really going on. It’s not a moon, it’s a space station.