#Agentfail II, Return to April

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Back in April, I posted about and linked to Mary W. Walters, the writer who couldn’t find an agent and considered them all horse-riding snakes who were ruining publishing for everyone else.

Well, last night I upgraded to WordPress 2.8, and it promptly pinged her website. She posted in the comments, putting up her query pitch and first chapter for my comments.

Maybe it was the shock of seeing an actual comment on my website (as opposed to my LJ), but I thought I’d give it a swing.

I don’t write this note because I want folks to rush over and give her advice. She asked me, specifically, and while I suspect it was as much of a “let’s see what you’ve got” request as “how could this be better” I hope I was useful. If you want to post a comment disagreeing with something I said, that’s great (in fact, I really really want people to disagree with me–if we can be polite to each other, I may learn a little something). But please don’t offer a crit unless the author specifically requests one.

No, I write this note because damn, that took a long time, and I didn’t even clean up the crit after I wrote it. I keep forgetting how much energy those take. I don’t think I’m going to be doing a lot of that in the future.

Quotes of the day

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“Camping in South Central Los Angeles is not like camping in a forest in Virginia. I know they sound the same, but they’re totally different.” — Emily Blake

“Creative-writing programs are designed on the theory that students who have never published a poem can teach other students who have never published a poem how to write a publishable poem. The fruit of the theory is the writing workshop, a combination of ritual scarring and twelve-on-one group therapy where aspiring writers offer their views of the efforts of other aspiring writers.”

and

“The workshop is a process, an unscripted performance space, a regime for forcing people to do two things that are fundamentally contrary to human nature: actually write stuff (as opposed to planning to write stuff very, very soon), and then sit there while strangers tear it apart. There is one person in the room, the instructor, who has (usually) published a poem. But workshop protocol requires the instructor to shepherd the discussion, not to lead it…”

both from a New Yorker piece by Louis Menand. I wish I had time to read the whole thing.

Stuff.

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I hit my goal again today, which means I’m back in the groove (last Monday not withstanding). I wish I could do well above my groove, but such is life.

Meanwhile, have some links:

1) Back to the Future 4: Escape from Guantanamo. Marty McFly is in serious trouble.

2) Pediatricians address the effects of bullying on victims and bullies. My son’s two schools so far have done a good job of dealing with bullying incidents, but I don’t know if they’re this sophisticated.

3) Nick Mamatas on making money off your fiction. I’d always heard that novels are where the money is, but he offers an interesting counterpoint. Not that it matters to me, since my productivity crashes as the word count shrinks. It’s not that I can’t write short stories; it just takes me longer.

4) Finally! A plan to help people compare and contrast insurance plans.

5) How to make big money fast as a novelist… in Sim 3.

This makes me happy

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Remember a couple days back when I said my wife was painting behind me? Well, she has a commission. It’s not finished, but I’m estatic to see her working on it.

IMG_0204

Oh, and I fixed WordPress. I even got rid of those faint gray links.

I broke my theme

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I’ll upload a new, functional theme later.

Like I have time for this…

ETA: Fixed it.

Dear Hello Quizzy

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Please understand that, if you’re creating a quiz to determine which fantasy author I am, you can not judge the answer to that by my reactions to real world experience.

For instance, in the real world, I would like to see matters resolved through peaceful, diplomatic means. In fiction, I like violent dramatic conflict. As an emotionally-stable adult, I see no problem with this.

Thank you for waking the hell up.

Kicked by a mule? Why, no, I haven’t been. Why do you ask?

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While reviewing an old scene for continuity, I came across this piece of classic dialog:

“It’s like saying I went to grade school with new Mariners quarterback. People are talking about you.”

For them what don’t know, the Mariners are a baseball team. Yes, I changed it to “new Seahawks quarterback” and god am I an idiot.

Also: Laser Obama!

Today

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I’m not around much today. I’ve taken a break from my daily goal to get a cup of coffee and skim my friends list, when I found this.

My wife is sitting behind me, working on her latest canvas. It’s a good life.

I make it because I know I’ll have to destroy it

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Sundays aren’t the expansive, relaxing work days that Saturdays or Tuesdays are. I have a definite time when I have to be finished with my daily goal and back at home so my wife can go to work. It’s enough time to do what I need to do (considering my process) but I need to get up on time and really focus.

And today, I found myself thinking Why am I writing this scene? I’m just going to have to cut it in revisions.

It’s a scene where the protagonist wakes alone in a strange place. He thinks he’s been taken by enemies, but it’s really just his reckless asshole compatriots. He’s also been terribly injured, so he’s terrified and desperate. As I described everything he did, I kept thinking Nothing comes of this. It’s all setup and no payoff.

On the other hand, it’s what the character would do.

So I wrote it all out, thinking that maybe I was cheating on my daily goal, but knowing that it’s better to follow the character than try to lead them. And who knows? I may find a better payoff for it later.

Huh.

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Lee Child has a fiction excerpt on the NY Times editorial page. It’s pretty good, too. I read Child’s debut novel and found it interesting but curiously airless–everything that happens turns out to be related to the overall plot, and the coincidence that kicks off the story strains even my credulity. But this was fun. I may have to give him another try.

One thing I never read, though, is those LiveJournal posts that are just collections of Twitter posts. If I wanted to read tweets… well, the rest is obvious.

Normally I don’t mention posts I skim over, but the clutter is getting to be a bit much.