Cobwebs Of The Mind: Writing And Despair Happy Hour

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Saturday, December 16, 2006

Writers And Despair Happy Hour (Part 8)

The saga must continue....

Welcome to Part Eight of the Writing & Despair Happy Hour!

Where We Present

So You Wanted To Be A Writer!
(Being The Third Volume Under This Title)

subtitled:
What Insanity Possessed You?

For the first volume of So You Wanted To Be A Writer! please read:

Writers And Despair Happy Hour (Part 6)
Writers And Despair Happy Hour (Part 7)

And so now you are finally ready and send out your incredible query letter. Worked hard on it you did. Spent hours and days trolling the web sites of all the agents. You had always been taught that no question no question was stupid. It was only not asking them that could get you into needless trouble.

And so one day with great courage and fortitude you sent Miss Snark an email, hoping against hope you got the "lingo" down right, and really needing an answer to your question about agents. You thought it was a pretty good question, one that had not really been dealt with on her Blog. So you sent it to Miss Snark and waited a few days, checking her Blog twice a day to see if she would deal with your question.

And so came the day when you saw a new post up on Miss Snark, with a particularly stinging Snark headline, under the title, "Where Did This Idiot Come From?" And as you read you cringed, realizing that it was your letter she was answering!

But you persevered and learned from your mistakes. And you finally got that query letter out! All that time and effort was about to pay off. You were sure that the five agents who you sent the query to would in the majority ask to see your new book. How could they not?

Only in your nervousness to get those letters out, you suddenly realized two days after you mailed them that you forgot to change the name of the agent in each letter. You got the envelopes right; you got the SASE right; you got the stamps right; you got the letter short and to the point. But fool that you are - you sent five letters all to the same name! They all began "Dear Ms. Jenny Snagglepuss:"

You hated yourself then. You hated your computer. You hated your word processing program. You hated your brain for shutting down just at the most important stage. You hated your eye doctor. You blamed it on everyone and everything.

You still did not have an inkling that you were playing against the fates, did you?

And so you sent out another five. This time you made sure they were 100% correct. That brought your query letter submission up to ten. You made a list in Word with the name of the agent, the date sent and the date for the acceptance/rejection of the query.

And you waited and you waited and you waited. Your spouse saw your consternation. Your kids tried to be kind. They knew that this was getting to the first finish line and everyone wanted you back! For now when they looked into your eyes, it was very disconcerting for them to find out no one was home.

And at supper one night, when the family was laughing and talking, one of your kids piped up and asked: "Why did you leave your job to write?"

And you answered them in a particularly cliche though incredibly true answer. You said, "Honey," you said looking straight at your child with a wise smile, "Because one of the great lessons of life is that in order to get somewhere you have to have the courage to try something new. Always remember that. Life is a challenge. And you need courage and determination to face those challenges and try something new. And that is what I did. I went to try something I know I will be very good at. And even if it is new and scary, well, I still have the courage to do it. Because if you never try anything new you are going to miss out on all that life has to offer."

And your spouse smiled, proud to hear you utter those words. Proud of you, no matter how crazy the neighbors and friends thought you were. Yes. You were teaching the children values and ideas that were worthy of a person like you!

Only how many times do you have to be told that you are just a nut case. Life ain't a bowl of cherries. You have been watching way too much television!

(Stay tuned for Volume Four of So You Wanted To Be A Writer! - Which will be presented in Part Nine of the Writing & Despair Happy Hour!)

All illustrations above are from the Despair.com. All hyperlinks on the posters will take you to their original page @ Despair.com.

Posted On: Cobwebs Of The Mind

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Over At The Blog of The Rejecter....

All The Secrets About Dealing With Your Professor In One Easy Lesson

Just before I was about to pack it in, I chanced to take a peek at the blog of The Rejecter. Now if you follow Cobwebs Of The Mind you will know I have developed a soft spot for The Rejecter. (Forget it Miss Snark, you already got your official Fire Extinguisher!)

Anyways, in her recent post, NEVER TAKE AN MFA PROGRAM, The Rejecter apologized for not posting a great deal as life, liberty and the pursuit of knowledge and happiness has interfered with her regularly posting schedule. But she did have a few choice things to imply about her Professor. It seems that nothing she could write would make her Professor happy. It was frustrating and very upsetting.

As she writes about her Prof. in the Post, NEVER TAKE AN MFA PROGRAM:

"He rejects just about everything I submit, and sometimes I give him whole, publishable novels, but they aren't about me, so they are apparently worthless. Somehow he then succeeds in making me feel guilty about not rising to his challenge to write from the heart, because producing stories people enjoy isn't enough - I should strive to write something great."

What do you know, The Rejecter GOT rejected! Oh My! Oh Golly Gee! Uh-Oh! A woman scorned and all that jazz!

So of course I want to cheer up The Rejecter. Don't take it to heart. We have all been there and done it!

I like The Rejecter and thus that mean old Prof has become the enemy! Yes sirree. We are going to deal with him right now! After all what are friends for?

So folks here I present to you the official version of:

All The Secrets About Dealing With Your Professor In One Easy Lesson

First lesson to learn in life is that if you want your Professor to accept your work then know just how to deal with the Professor. What did you think? This is all about your talent? Who told you that in University you would be judged soley according to talent and brains and marks?

Sheesh...
In University you really have to learn how to kiss some serious butt!

Now, Ms. Rejecter. Do you actually think Prof. is looking for orginality? Something new? A great new and wonderful voice in writing? Come on now. I know you are more realistic than that. Prof. wants to be able to read the same stuff over and over and over again. He needs to show that he is the only unique voice in the group.

He is out to prove the one great rule of Conformity:

Hey! "Stop" you scream at me. "Don't you realize Teddy I still have to write something for this professor? He still has to grade me, and be willing to read my stuff! I need ideas. I need to get my tushy into gear here. Otherwise I really am going to end up in deep doo-doo. Nothing I write is good enough for this guy. I just don't know what to do anymore!"

Hey Lady You think you got problems now? Just wait until you hand in that next paper!

Do you really think it is a matter of trying harder? Putting your best foot forward and all that? Do you actually think your Prof. is going to notice? Will he care? Come on now, people like that are always out to get us writers!

Hey Rejecter. No matter what you do humiliation is just a step away! Rule #1 in trying to achieve those great things in life by really giving it your all - is:

Now as much as I hate to say this, you still have not grasped the one great rule in life. You have still not understood just what every writer has learned through sweat and tears to understand. It still has not sunk in. You need that mark. You must succeed. There is no other option but success. And you will write that great piece. And your Professor is going to give you an A+ for it. And your 4.0 index will remain. Oh yes there is no other option for you but success. And by golly that is what you are going to do. You are going to succeed. It is your destiny.

SUCCESS WILL BE YOURS!

Yeah. And just what planet are you living on?

Now finally, we must end this lesson. So I leave you with but a word to the wise. Study well the lesson above. Don't ever forget it. But if there does come a time when doubt creeps into your heart, then be of strong courage and great fortitude.

Never let burnout get to you. Don't give up. Take heart and know that it is always true when they say about Teddy:

(Now can we please discuss that query letter I just sent your agency and you are getting ready to read?)

All illustrations above are from the Despair.com. All hyperlinks on the posters will take you to their original page @ Despair.com.

Posted On: Cobwebs Of The Mind

Don't Be Cheap! Leave A Comment Below. I Promise Not To Bite!

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Writers And Despair Happy Hour (Part 7)

The saga must continue....

Welcome to Part Seven of the Writing & Despair Happy Hour!

Where We Present

So You Wanted To Be A Writer!
(Being The Second Volume Under This Title)

subtitled:
What Insanity Possessed You?

For the first volume of So You Wanted To Be A Writer! please read:

Writers And Despair Happy Hour (Part 6)

And so you continued to grapple with the characters in your novel. You totally ignored all friends and family. You gave in to that little voice in your head. You wrote like a demon possessed you. You were on a roll. Words poured out one after the other and your fingers could not keep up.

One day you awoke and realized that you were almost done! The first writing of your first novel is almost ready for those coveted words "The End". You looked up and found the sun shining. Your children had grown. Your spouse had lost twenty pounds and looked great. Life was good. It felt great. You were sure you had a bestseller on your hands.

And then you made the first, critical mistake. You began reading your work from the very first chapter. You began to look deep into it. And you cringed. Because there was so much that was not needed. Your characters ran away off the page. Your protagonist started off being a Blond hair blue eyed bombshell of a spy and by Chapter 10 she was a stodgy grandmother who gave advice in cliche after cliche.

You were honest with yourself though. This had to be fixed. It was a problem but not an insurmountable one. It would all work out in the end. The book would flow like butter.

"There are no problems", you told yourself, "only solutions".

Guess what?

And so you went back to work. You fixed all those problems. Edited and edited again. You worked tirelessly and endlessly. You forced every creative fiber in your being to be there for you. Nothing else mattered. This was the book. This was what was killing you inside and now it was on paper. This was the work that would establish your name.

You knew once it was done, once all the spelling mistakes were out and all the long hours of editing and changing and erasing and deleting and adding would be at an end, those people who laughed at you would be jealous of you. Edward down the block would be green with envy. Karen, who always took great pleasure in chiding you in front of your spouse would be speechless. Your children would walk with their heads up high and proudly display you as their parent. No more hiding.

You were going to live up to your potential. You were going to make it. Inside of you potential and reality had finally reached an apex and married each other. You would make it, because didn't your mother always tell you: "Darling you have so much potential!"

And just then - just when you are about to wrap up the manuscript and start with your query letters, right then you spouse sits you down with the intention of a heart-to-heart talk. You listen first to the "I only want what is best for you" line. Then you listen patiently to the litany of complaints. All valid. You have been ignoring the children. You forgot their names. You no longer know what your spouse looks like let alone go out from time to time. Your neighbors are talking. Even your doctor has called to see if you are okay.

You nod and are acquiescent. You really do not want to start a fight. And you really do want to be a great partner and parent. You just had to get this book out.

"It will work", you tell your spouse. "You'll see. Haven't I always been lucky? Have I not always given this family everything and provided for them?" You tell your spouse with a calming voice. "You yourself tell me darling, that I am the luckiest person you know. Luck is here and with my talent and that luck I will get an agent and this book will be on the New York Times bestseller list by this time next year! Don't you worry. Hard work, talent and luck always pay off."

If you believe that line, buddy, your troubles have really only just begun!

So the discussion ends. Your spouse leaves the room shaking their head, but a little calmer. Okay you are not as crazy as they feared. You were delusional. You believed in your luck. You had hope. Hope cannot be that bad, can it? And so your spouse decided the madness could go on just a bit longer. You wanted to see if your wishes would come true and they would not stand in your way. At least not for the next few days.

Now it was time for you to put that manuscript where your mouth is. You had to get those query letters out. You had to see what would happen. You knew that somewhere out there were a few agents who would appreciate your genius. You knew that you would persevere. You knew it would happen. You had made your bed. You were full of positive vibes. You said your prayers to the God that ruled your life. And you were one who believed that wishes could come true. Was not your spouse a wish come true? And were not your children? Yes you affirmed.

Wishes do and will come true. All one has to do is wish hard enough and long enough with the right intention and for all the right reasons and those wishes will come true!

(Stay tuned for Volume Three of So You Wanted To Be A Writer! - Which will be presented in Part Eight of the Writing & Despair Happy Hour!)

All illustrations above are from the Despair.com. All hyperlinks on the posters will take you to their original page @ Despair.com.

Don't Be Cheap! Leave A Comment Below. I Promise Not To Bite!

Monday, November 20, 2006

Writing And Despair Happy Hour (Part 6)

The saga must continue....

Welcome to Part Six of the Writing & Despair Happy Hour!

Entitled:

So You Wanted To Be A Writer!

subtitled:

What Insanity Possessed You?

And so one day you woke up and discovered deep in your heart that what you really wanted to do was write. You wanted to effect people with your words. You wanted to make them love you, hate you, read you - and enter into your head and soul. You wanted to use words to change the world if only a little part of it.

You dreamed of having your books, stories and articles published.
You dreamed of meeting people in the street and them saying: "Oh you are so-and-so. I love to read what you write!
You dreamed of book-signings, along with radio and television appearances.
You dreamed of royalty checks that could get you through the next year or even month.
You dreamed of Pulitzers and Nobel Prizes.
You dreamed of poems, and love, and angst and sorrow - all sharing with an adoring reading public.
You dreamed and dreamed. Oh boy, did you dream!

Hey - here is a message for all you dreamers!

Oh you knew it would be hard. Maybe not as hard as it turned out, but hard nonetheless. You knew you would have to sacrifice. You knew you would have to work hard and double hours. You knew it was going to be a long hard road. But you were sure it was well worth it in the end. You went by the adage "I don't want to bitch about what I want to do with my life. I want to try and live it". You adopted the old cliche, "It is better to have tried and failed then never to have tried at all". You acknowledged your own failing. You knew where your strengths lie and where your weakness was. You were a well-aware, balanced and intelligent human being. You did it all. Any obstacle the was placed in front of you - was immediately challenged.

There were no limitations that you would accept. You were spreading your wings. And damn well sure that with patience, hard work and fortitude you were going to fly.

Oh the road was so lonely. Friends laughed at you. "You?" they said with a derisive smirk on their face. "You? A writer?" You just smiled and walked away.

Your family at first was understanding. "Hey, when am I going to read your book?" Your kids would ask. "You can read it now if you like," you would answer honestly, wanting their opinions. "No thanks, I want to read it when it is a real book. Not something on your computer!" they would answer in dismay.

Your spouse or your significant other was understanding as well. Up to a point. Up to the point when you forgot their birthday and anniversary. Up to the point when one day you looked up from your manuscript and said "Remind me please. Who are you again?"

No one really understood you. No one understood this craziness that overwhelmed you and took over every fiber of your being. No one could feel what you were going through.

And you discovered just how alone you were. Even though you were surrounded by loving people who only wanted the best for you, and felt you should be put on proper meds. You discovered just how loneliness can feel.

And so your life continued. The kids discovered that they had a new person living with them. Your significant other did not know what you turned into. Your friends smiled in pity when they saw you.

As you walked down the street you would longingly look into the windows of book stores. Your mind fantasized about seeing your great work right there with your name in Bold Print. You went inside and all you could see in that vast Barnes & Nobel was a huge crowd around a table where you sat signing book after book until your fingers hurt and your hand was cramped with strain.

You carried on conversations with your inner self. You argued with the voices in your head. You found them funny and humorous and sad all at the same time. You talked all day but not one word escaped from your lips.

You would sit alone in your room, and more than once your significant other or a child would burst in, look around in growing shock and ask: "Who are you talking to? We could hear you laughing over the television!"

And you would just shrug, knowing that introducing your family to those people in your head was not a good idea. You would be medicated so fast that you would never be able to write another coherent word.

Therapy was brought up. You were called "unrealistic". You were labeled "a bit off". Your children were embarrassed to be seen with you, because you would suddenly chuckle when no one said anything. You became known as the neighborhood eccentric.

One day you overheard your best friend whisper to a group of people at a party you had no idea what you were doing at:

"Poor guy. Once he was great. Now we think he lost his marbles. Walks around talking to himself all day. I feel sorry for his family. Thinks he is going to be a great writer. Can you just imagine? Him! A great writer! Talk about madness and insanity. That is one for the books! I think his family should get him on meds real quick. Otherwise he is going to end up like that guy in The Shining!"

And you laugh. Cause inside your head all the voices are telling you to ignore all the jealous people who just don't understand how great a writer you really are!

All illustrations above are from the Despair.com. All hyperlinks on the posters will take you to their original page @ Despair.com.

Don't Be Cheap! Leave A Comment Below. I Promise Not To Bite!

Saturday, November 18, 2006

Writing And Despair Happy Hour (Part 5)

The saga must continue....

Welcome to Part Five of the Writing & Despair Happy Hour!

Entitled:

The Totally Fictional Tale Of The Wannabe Literary Agent(s)

subtitled:

You Get What You Pay For & Then Some!

Once upon a time, not long ago, in a land where dreams always came true, and some very lucky people had money trees growing in their backyard, a little girl grew up as all little girls should grow up, playing with her friends and going to school. This little girl whose name was Babs, always wanted to be the most popular girl in her group of friends. She had brains and wit and good looks. But for some reason, no matter what Babs put her hand to, it came out all wrong. Thus after awhile, children being much smarter than adults give them credit for, her friends, who knew Babs very well, let her play with them but also learned to ignore her need for attention and demands to lead the group.

Over the years, as is the nature with humankind, Babs grew into a woman. And over the years she also watched her friends and other people, and began to understand that most people in her land where dreams came true and money trees were scarce but not too scarce, would be very willing to part with that money if someone would just promise them that their dream would come true. Unfortunately though, Babs, try as she would, never could excel at anything she was doing. This combination of knowledge of her fellow humans and her inability to excel forced Babs to some serious conclusions.

In short, Babs grew up into a very cagey, cynical woman.

Along the way Babs also learned that in her land of dreams everything was about presentation and as long as she could present herself in the right and proper manner, no matter how ignorant she was of the topic at hand, it would almost guarantee success among the more ignorant no matter what her track record in real production was. Babs knew that in selling dreams she could do and say almost anything she pleased. She could be pompous, self-aggrandizing, and full of her own self. After all if you sell dreams people will forgive you for almost anything.

Now since Babs happened to like reading and coupling that with her cynical though very true outlook on her world, and knowing that people would pay almost anything from their money trees to achieve their personal dream in the land where dreams came true, Babs decided to become of all things, a literary agent.

Now Babs may have been a lot of things but she was not stupid and she sure as hell was not going to do this for free. So Babs studied the weaknesses of her fellow inhabitants of the planet, and understood that though she could not be good at what she wanted to do, as the publishers and editors never took her seriously, she knew that she would never be able to sell them a manuscript from one of her clients. And thus Babs developed a unique idea. She would make money off her clients. It seemed fair. It seemed right.

"Hey, after all," Babs said to herself, "doesn't everyone agree you get what you pay for? So let them pay me. Who cares if I am good or not? All I have to do is convince those suckers that I can make their dreams come true if they are only willing to part with some of their money, and the rest is a piece of cake!"

And so, without credentials, without skills, without contacts and with only very mediocre abilities Babs set out into the world of publishing, literary agents and writers.

You see Babs truly discovered the secret of the siren call.

And so Babs opened up her agency. She advertised for clients. But she was real cagey. She demanded, as all her fellow agents did, query letters. And of course, hundreds and thousands of query letters began to pour in from all points on the globe, into the "Make Your Dreams Come True Literary Agency LLC". And when they began to arrive Babs just perused them to make sure that not too many spelling mistakes were made, (after all she could not deal with illiterates could she?).

Most of the query letters received the following answer, sent, mind you, to the query letter owner, in an envelope and a stamp paid for by the query letter owner. Babs had a good chuckle at that because she even saved on postage fees! And so the bait was placed on the hook of the query letter answer. And was it great bait. Guaranteed - 99% it would not fail to hook the fish. Babs knew how to hook them. Yes she did!

Dear Author:

We really liked your query and thought your work deserves merit. Please excuse this form letter, but the volume of business at Make Your Dreams Come True Literary Agency LLC has grown tremendously and though we refuse to give up our search for talented new writers such as you seem to be. Please send me your manuscript so I can make a studious and fair evaluation. Make sure you enclose an SASE as well, as due to the volume and nature of my business, the agency will not consider any submission without an SASE. If we like your work we will be in touch within 21 days and let you know how to proceed.

Good Luck

Babs

Oh, how happy Babs made hundreds of query letter writers. They finally found an agent who was willing to look at what they wrote. It did not matter that out of 120 query letters sent out for the same manuscript 119 form rejections came back. Because Babs was the one who said YES!

And so these hopeful authors, printed out their works on clean, shiny paper and with hope in their hearts and a prayer in their soul - they sent out their manuscript addressed to:
Make Your Dreams Come True Literary Agency LLC
Attn: Babs
with those coveted words on the front:
"Solicited Material Enclosed"

Now Babs had a very orderly system when those manuscripts came in. She would open them, skim them for around 5-10 minutes and place them in a pile on another desk clearly marked with the date of receipt. Exactly 21 days later Babs would open them again, take a look over her morning coffee, and if the spelling was not too bad, and the manuscript did not start with a sex scene (cause Babs found that disgusting), Babs would now send out her real hook.

That is how the infamous Killigore Trout got hooked. Oh yes he did.

Dear Killigore:

I loved your submission entitled "How The Universe Burped" and loved the idea behind it. However, based upon your submission, I believe your manuscript needs the help of professional editing. With professional editing I am sure I can sell this to a publishing house. Additionally as you know we do incur expenses in the submission process. All in all, all I am asking to only partially cover these expenses is a paltry $1000. Remember, publishing is a business. And in a business you get what you pay for.

Upon receipt of $1000 and your signature on our contract (it only locks you into a three year exclusive deal with us at $1000 a year which is a cheap price to pay for fame and stardom), you will officially be a client of the Make Your Dreams Come True Literary Agency LLC and will receive my personal, undivided attention. (And as a bonus I will send you your very own Member badge which reads: "Babs Loves Me".

I am excited at the prospect of us working together. Do not delay.

Sincerely,

Babs

And so Killigore and hundreds like him became clients of the Make Your Dreams Come True Literary Agency LLC. Once that money arrived Babs took the manuscript into a room in her office reserved for her "clients". This room she called "The Sucker Room" and there she officially filed the manuscript away.

You see Babs had learned life's lessons well. No publisher would return her calls. No editor would even read a letter she sent to them. She really could not do anything in the publishing industry. But Babs would be damned if she was not going to enjoy and make money from what she was doing.

Being Inept at running a bona-fide Literary Agency did not stop Babs for one moment. No sirree. It certainly did not. She was enjoying herself all the way to the bank.

And so it came to pass that others out there slowly but surely caught on to Babs. Not the authors mind you, because they were positive their dreams would come true. But in this make believe world where there is one Babs you can be real sure there will be others. They multiplied and multiplied. And then one day, one of the imitators who was making good money off of people's dreams and his incompetence, said to himself:

"Hey, this is dumb. If one Literary Agency makes me oodles of money, then ten will make me oodles times ten."

And with that discovery Dr. Whatmacallit proceeded to open ten agencies all under different names but all having the word "Literary" in it - to attract the dreamers. Oh, dear reader, do not worry. There was no need to open an office and no great expense was involved. All it took was a $10 dollars to buy an Internet Name and a three page web site. And of course, all that great expense was recovered with the first dreamer to submit their manuscript. Imagine that! Being able to scam people and claim it as a legitimate business expense to boot!

And so efforts were doubled and money poured in. Who said Incompetence does not pay off?

But..But..But...this is not the end of the tale...

For in writer land there were a few who did notice the absolute mediocrity, incompetence and ineptitude of these cynical, fee-taking literary agents. And they let out a cry. And they warned. And they pleaded. And they begged. The cry went forth:

"Literary Agents Do Not Make Money Until You Do. Money Flows To The Author - Not From The Author. Do Not Pay A Person Claiming To Be An Agent If They Ask For Money Up Front. This Is A Scam. And They Will Take Your Money & Destroy Your Dreams."

And the cry began to be heard. The incompetent agents noticed a big decline in their daily deposits of dream money. And they got up in arms. They were angry - oh yes they were. How dare someone call them at their game? How dare some impudent and actually published authors, editors, and bona fide literary agents who belonged to such silly groups as the AAR challenge them? No way. They would stop this insurrection. Oh yes they would. To the Lawyers they marched. To their word processors they went. They were going to shut down any business and any Internet Forum or Web Site that dared challenge them.

Because they knew the tried and true lesson of Power.

Postscript to Our Tale:

And so dear reader and writer and author at the end of our tale we must warn you. Though arrogance and intimidation did not work, you must be wary. Sometimes if you act like a fool, then you will certainly get what you pay for. Always remember that it is not only what you pay, but who is cashing that check of yours as well.

If you don't learn to rule your own Destiny, then Destiny is going to come and bite you right in the ass. Then you will truly be able to say to the literary agent you paid to fulfill your dreams:

A Short List For Your Reading Pleasure:

The Lies Scammers Tell About Us

Victoria Strauss --The IILAA, or, What You Do When They Won't Let You Into the Club

Writer Beware's 20 Worst Agents

Miss Snark is Damn Mad

Red Letter Challenge -update

Dumbest of the Twenty Worst

Victoria Strauss -- Redux

All illustrations above are from the Despair.com. All hyperlinks on the posters will take you to their original page @ Despair.com.

Don't Be Cheap! Leave A Comment Below. I Promise Not To Bite!

Friday, November 17, 2006

Writing And Despair Happy Hour (Part 4)

The saga must continue....

As we go not silently into the night!

Welcome to Part Four of the Writing & Despair Happy Hour!

So there you are and your novel is done. You edited it a few times, spell checked it, made sure it was perfect. You even read it out loud night after night, while your spouse fumed at you fro not getting into bed. Followed all the rules you did. Even went so far as to sharpen all your pencils. And then you went and spent 100 bucks or so on the Literary Agent Books. You joined LMP on the Internet - more cookie money for the kids Christmas presents down the drain. You did your research. Because every piece you ever read about agents told you to do your background and research.

And then still following the rules you send out 20 simultaneous queries to 20 different agencies all dealing with your type of book. You spent another week on getting it just right. You did your best to interest them. You made a joke here, said something serious there. You printed them out - one by one - each having a personalized paragraph to that particular agent, showing off how much homework and research you did about their agency. You made sure the SASE's were printed, the stamp in the right place, and even put the Agent's return address on them - all like you were told.

And following the rules - still - you went to the Post Office. Stood on line. Bought 20 pretty stamps for your 20 pretty envelopes which held your 20 pretty letters and 20 pretty SASE's to your 20 pretty and handsome agents.

Then you went home - and just like the books told you - you started working on something else. Each day you were tempted to give in to the worry. Did the envelopes make it? Did they go through? Did the Postman go postal and rip up all your envelopes? Did the plane carrying those envelopes to NY and CA fall into the sea and the US Govt. is hiding the fact in order not to scare the populace with a needless terrorist threat?

You wait. Sometimes you absently pull clumps of hair out of your head without being aware you hand is in your hair. You get short with the kids; snap at your spouse. You apologize to them and notice that magically your stash of Johnny Walker has dwindled a bit too much. BUT YOU WAIT. You stay silent. You behave. Because that is what they all tell you to do.

Six weeks later the answers begin to trickle in. One, two, three rejections. You shrug knowing that there are still seventeen more out there. You wait. Seventeen goes down to sixteen, fifteen and soon you have a pile of fifteen rejections in your hand and five letters still out there - unanswered.

You begin to feel you are about to loose it. Go Insane. This is NOT FAIR! You followed the Rules! You waited. You did your research. Your query had NO spelling mistakes. Unjust. This is totally wrong. It can't be happening to you. And as you think these things the list of rejections grows to eighteen. And you put your hopes and prayers into those two letters. You are sure the fates are playing with you. The agent who wants to read your Novel will be one of the last two.

You stand tall in the face of adversity. You hold on to your sanity with a thin thread. You will make it!

Boy do I have a wake up call for you!

And so you finally realize that those last two agents thought your query so miserable they did not bother answering. (Instead they stole your pretty stamps!) But you still don't give in. And out goes another twenty. And another twenty.

Finally you sit back and take stock. Is this going to work? Is this possible? Of course it is, you say to yourself. Didn't Stephen King and a host of others make it when they were just about to give up hope? Weren't they about to throw in the towel?

Defeat is not an option. No way. No how. You are going to succeed. The words "giving up" do not enter your lexicon. You will triumph against the odds. You will not go silently into the night. You will be victorious.

Hey buddy - what planet are you living on?

All illustrations above are from the Despair.com. All hyperlinks on the posters will take you to their original page @ Despair.com.

Don't Be Cheap! Leave A Comment Below. I Promise Not To Bite!

Writing And Despair Happy Hour (Part 3)

The saga must continue....

Welcome to Part Three of the Writing & Despair Happy Hour!

So you wake up in the morning, turn on the computer, get a cup of coffee, pull out your pack of squashed Camel's (the soft pack has to squashed cause it is so much cooler!) and open your browser and start with your bookmarks.

First Miss Snark, then The Rejecter, then Jenny this and Jenny that, then the Evil Editor, then a few more on your list. You read, you laugh, you cry and you say to yourself:

"If only they would notice me. If only I could get them to read to my masterpiece."

And so everyday you spend time thinking of smart, witty, wise comments to leave on each blog. You make sure you have a profile they can see the links you leave to your web site, blog and the poetry you published at poetry.com. (You even leave Miss Snark a hidden message on exactly how to Google your name, so it comes up on the first page!) You pray they will look at you.

Have faith! You are not alone! There are thousands of "you" out there doing the exact same thing everyday. Those precious minutes stolen for the dream of being noticed.

Want to know why? Want to know what truly motivates you?

Your best friend calls you. She is ecstatic, all bubbly. Hyper

"Remember that literary agency I told you about?" she asks. "The one with that really great agent who says he wants to look at new authors with a new point of view? The one that promises an answer within 5 days?"

You, of course, remember no such thing. But before you can get in a grunt, she says:

"Well I sent him a query and just got the answer in my email. He wants to see the first 30 pages! I am so excited", she laughs hysterically. "This is better than sex and multiple orgasms! I am on my way to riches & stardom. Clancy watch out! Finally!!!!!!"

You, being you, with a sinking heart full of jealousy and your face green with envy (thanking the lucky stars she can't see your face at the moment), and seriously wanting to chop your best friend up, put the pieces in a suitcase and dump it in the river, say:

"Congratulations. Just remember me when you are famous!"

"Of course I will," she says as you hear the click on the other end.

A few weeks go by. You forget all about your abstinent friend's submission. Then one day you call her just to see how things are going.

"Hey, what happened with the manuscript?" You ask with your sweetest voice in the most naive and blaze tone you can muster.

"Which manuscript? Oh that one?" nervous giggles on the other end. "Would you believe the bastard took 6 weeks to get back to me, and I emailed him every day to say Good Morning and wish him a great day, and then had the nerve to send me a form rejection!"

Well we all know that delusions are a wonderful thing, aren't they?

All illustrations above are from the Despair.com. All hyperlinks on the posters will take you to their original page @ Despair.com.

Don't Be Cheap! Leave A Comment Below. I Promise Not To Bite!

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Writing And Despair Happy Hour (Part 2)

And our saga of Despair continues with Part Two....

Well we had one for Miss Snark so now we will move on to our next Despairing Happy Hour. Here we will have one for The Rejecter.

The Rejecter - whom I have come to really like and respect in these past few days - and have begun to understand her need for staying anonymous, (and my sincere wishes to her for a speedy and complete recovery - the woman has courage to be respected!) - has the following as an introduction on her blog:

The Rejecter - I don't hate you. I just hate your query letter.

I am an assistant at a literary agency. I am the first line of defense for my boss. On average, I reject 95% of the letters immediately and put the other 5% in the "maybe" pile. Here, I'll tell you how to get past me.

So here is one for all of you who think they will ever make it past The Rejecter and her ilk. You should be so lucky!

So you are planning and outlining your New WIP? This one is going to be great. Land the best Agent and hit the top of the New York Times Bestseller Lists!

You have it all planned don't you?

Spent years writing that Great Pulitzer Prize Novel? And those dumb agents and publishers just don't see the genius of your plot? They tell you the characters are wooden and one-dimensional? No dice. No sale. And you look back on all those days where you had just had coffee and smoked 3 packs of cigs. day in and day out, in sacrifice of it all? And now you turn around, your spouse has abandoned you, the kids won't talk to you and you are old and gray with nothing to show for it?

Nothing like a little Regret!