Wednesday, September 21, 2016

Obligatory Contemplative Post-Book-Sale Blog Post

My debut picture book, “Adrian Simcox Does Not Have a Horse,” sold to Penguin/Dial Books for Young Readers last week. There’s a period at the end of that sentence, though there should probably be 25 exclamation points. But that was last week, and like all human creatures, I’ve adapted to this incredible good news and returned to my baseline state of happiness. There’s a big, fancy term for this. It’s called “hedonic adaptation,” one of many facts I discovered while researching the writing project I’ve been working on for years, my adult literary novel, “Happy, Indiana.” That was the book I was planning to sell.
What's next for me, world?
“Adrian Simcox” was a side project, born on a rainy spring afternoon when a burst of inspiration, brought on by reading a stack of award-winning picture books (and an extra cup of coffee), sent me to my file of kid-book ideas and quickly then to my computer. The book came out in one session, as I nervously watched the clock because I had to pick up my kids from school, but wanted to get every thought down on paper first. I was in the “zone” and when you’re in there, you don’t ask questions; you just write. It needed editing, of course, lots, but still I felt with that first draft that I might have done something special.

Two years ago, I posted this piece about how I don’t write for children, primarily because it’s super hard and I’m not good enough. I left the door open for the possibility, though. And now, with this picture book sale, that door has been opened with such force that the hinges have popped right off. That’s an exhilarating feeling, a scary one, too. Before the sale was even final, I was wondering if I could pull something like this off a second time, and my ever-patient husband was like “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” DRINK THIS CHAMPAGNE AND CELEBRATE, DAMN IT!!!” And so I did.

But this week, it’s back to the page, and back to that novel, for now. I feel confident that this revision may be the one to tie up all those lingering loose ends, that it might be good enough to land an agent (my new agent reps children’s fiction, so I’d need another to rep any adult work), and maybe even get a publisher. But, I must confess. As I’m working on novel revisions, my brain keeps filling with picture book ideas, so much so that I eventually just kept a file open on my computer so I could quickly switch back and forth.

I love my novel. I love writing essays. But this recent development has opened up a whole new, but certainly related, career path, and I couldn’t be happier. I’ve got no shortage of “things I’m thinking about” but now I feel much more empowered to put those things into whatever written form will best serve the idea. Some ideas are more suited to adults, some to children. My options have increased, and that’s a very good thing.

Saturday, September 3, 2016

What To Do When Your Book Is On Submission

My picture book is on submission! What does that mean? Well, this is the phase when you’ve signed with a super duper agent (see previous post), you’ve made any edits to your manuscript that the agent suggests and then the agent submits your book to a list of editors at various publishing houses who he thinks would be a great fit.

This is one of the many reasons why having a good agent is so important! Believe it or not, in the middle of the cornfield in which I live, I am not lunching with editors on a daily basis. I'm new to the publishing world and don't have contacts. My agent does. In fact, at many publishers, you cannot even submit a manuscript on your own. You have to do so through an agent. There are so many writers out there, agents only take on books they are pretty sure they can sell. This is why the word on the street is that it's harder to get an agent these days than it is to sell the book. 

My agent put together a nifty list of editors he thought would be perfect for my book and sent my manuscript to them. And now we wait.

Many things can happen during this time. All of them could say, “I hate it!” (unlikely, since the agent has done his homework). One, or more, editors could like it and make an offer (yay!). If numerous editors express an interest in bidding, then the book can go to auction. This doesn't happen a lot, but when it does, it's pretty awesome. 

There are several ways to do an auction, one being a traditional auction where the editors keep bidding higher and higher, in rounds, until there’s one left standing, at which point, the author takes that bid. There’s also something known as a "best bid blind auction" where everyone just puts their best offer out there from the start, not knowing what the other publishers are doing. The author isn’t forced to take the top offer. Maybe there’s an offer that came in lower, but the author just really feels like that editor/publisher would be great to work with. That’s a-okay!

Hey look! Hardwood!
Keep in mind that before an editor can even make an offer, he or she has to meet with others at the publishing house, make sure they agree that the book is one they must have, think about how it fits with other books they have coming out, discuss who might illustrate it (I’ve only written the text. You do NOT want to see my drawings!) Also before making an offer, an editor might want to talk to the author, to get a sense of where the author is coming from, and to convince the author that her or his publishing house is the best choice. This is also an opportunity for the author to find out if she “clicks” with a particular editor, since the two of them would be working closely together for many months on the book.

This can take weeks. And so, things to do while my book is on submission:

 (A) Pull up that yucky carpeting in the living room 

 (B) Brush the dog


 (C) Take many long walks

 (D) Work on another book


Well, I’m sure my agent would say D, but I'm thinking C, followed by B. (This dog isn't going to brush himself!)  

Tuesday, August 30, 2016

How I Got My Agent

This is the post I’ve been wanting to write for nearly a decade, the post where I tell you I am officially represented. Sounds very serious, doesn’t it? It is very serious. I have signed with literary agent Steven Malk at Writers House, and though it’s been a couple weeks now, I still wake up and think, oh, I had a wonderful dream that I signed with this incredible agent, and then I tell myself this is real! Normally, my dreams go the other way, with me falling off buildings, falling out of a car that’s falling off a cliff. So, this is a great new development!

I have many, many things to say about getting to this point and what happens next, too many to vacuum-pack into one post, but for now, I’d like to hold these two, at first-glance contradictory, opinions up to the light.

1)  This was a long time coming.
2)  This happened seemingly overnight.

First, number one. I’ve been writing for years, dear readers, you know this. I started blogging (very occasionally) way back when I was writing my first novel and my daughter was still in diapers. (I just walked that daughter to school where she’s now in the 4th grade.) I’d been publishing short fiction for years and started to regret that I’d given it up to try a novel. That novel almost broke me, not the writing of it, which was very hard, but still enjoyable, but the trying to get it published part. It wasn’t that no one liked it. It was that lots of people liked it, but didn’t love it. (To those of you in the querying trenches, you’ll recognize this as a common phrase on rejection letters.) Sometimes I think it would have been better if they’d all hated it because I would have set it aside much sooner. Instead, I kept thinking the next query was going to change everything.

And I did get the attention of an agent who had a good track record. She wanted to see a few changes before she signed me. No biggie, right? Except that the little changes were actually kind of big, and after I’d work on one thing then another, I was met with long periods of silence, then apologetic messages, all without a contract. I was so na├»ve and, yes, desperate, that I just hung on and hoped. This sounds like a bad romance, and in many ways it was. We met in person and there were warning bells going off in my head the whole time. I knew we were not a good match, but I did not trust my instincts, and so when she eventually said, “It’s not you, it’s me,” I was not only devastated, thinking my book would never get out there, but also hating myself for being so stupid.

I entered a period of curling under the covers and wailing “I will never write again!” And that book? It never got out there, and that’s okay.

I took a new approach. I decided if I love writing (I do) and if I’m only really happy when I’m writing (I am), then I just need to write and not care so much about the business end of things. Agents, and editors and publishers, are going to do what they’re going to do. They will either want my work or they won’t. All I can do, all I can promise, to anyone, but mainly to myself, is that I’ll keep writing and trying to improve. And when I’ve got something I think is pretty good (whether that’s my new novel, an essay, a short story, a picture book), I will put myself out there, but I will not beat myself up when rejections come in. I will work hard so that when opportunity comes knocking, I will be prepared.

Giving up on that first book was the hardest writing-related thing I’ve ever done, but also the best thing. My second novel knocks the socks off that first one. And I’ve written, and published so many other things because I’m writing whatever makes me happy. I’ve taken to writing essays when I really need to deal with something that happened to me. If they get published, great, and many of them have, but it’s the act of writing them that I find liberating. I’ve written humor pieces and also (newsflash!) picture books!

It was inevitable, really. Though my kids, at 7 and 9, have largely moved on to chapter books, our home is still filled with picture books. We still bring home a few on every library trip. The ones we love, we read again and again. I volunteer to read with kids at the elementary school. I co-chair the book fairs. There have always been times when I’ve come across a really great picture book and thought, wow, I would love to be able to write something this good! And other times when I thought, well, I’m sure I could write something this good! And over the years, every time I had an idea for a picture book, I added it to my “big file of picture book ideas” on my computer. Which brings me to #2.

It feels like I signed with Steve in an instant because we were really only in communication with each other for a few weeks prior. I should mention that Steve is a children’s book agent, representing everything from picture books on up to YA. When I emailed my book, titled “Adrian Simcox Does Not Have a Horse,” to Steve along with my query letter, I literally chuckled as I hit “Send.” Steve is one of the top children’s book agents in the country. Look up all the best-sellers, all the Newbery and Caldecott winners, then look up their agents. Time and again, I found it was Steve. And here I was, brand new to children’s writing, sending my query cold, into the so-called “slush pile” to be read, I figured by an intern who might, if she even felt like it, send me a form rejection back.

When I got a very quick reply back, I was expecting the typical “Sorry this isn’t right for me…” letter. But instead, Steve wanted to know what else I was working on. And he liked the book, very much. We emailed back and forth for a few weeks until we had THE CALL, which is a very important chapter in the fairy book tale of getting an agent. Unlike my meeting with that agent many years ago, this time, I knew it was right. We clicked. Everything he was saying made sense to me and let me know that if Steve was my agent, I’d be in excellent hands. When I got off the phone, I sobbed. My husband cried. The kids were freaked out, not really understanding the concept of “happy tears.”

Lots of writers complain about the “slush pile” or say the publishing industry is rigged against those who don’t know the right people. When I was in my deepest denial about my first novel, I often said the same thing. It was easier than admitting the truth, that maybe my book just wasn’t good enough.

My experience these past weeks has taught me that the only thing that really matters is that you keep trying to write something great, and keep aiming high. If your dream agent seems to land in your lap, it’s because you did everything right to bring him there. And also, who knows, maybe there was a bit of luck involved. Maybe Steve read my manuscript right after eating something delicious or watching a YouTube video of kittens. Whatever the case, I am so grateful and pleased to be starting this exciting new chapter of my writing life.

And now before I start quoting Journey (Don’t Stop Believin’!), I need to sign off. There is MUCH more to come on this story. Stay tuned.


Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Book Art

So sorry I’ve been missing from this blog all summer. I’ve been busy--hanging out with my kids, attending a lengthy writing conference (more on that later), oh, and building a playground! Cool pics of that here

The kids are returning to school next week, and so I plan to return to my *weekly posts. In the meantime, here’s a fun project I did today, which involves BOTH of the topics of this blog—books and DIY home projects.

A long time ago, I saw some collages made from old newspapers in a fancy decorating catalog. They cost hundreds of dollars. I muttered “I could do that,” and since my husband heard me and replied, as he is wont to do, “Why don’t you, then?” I made this dress.
It’s cut from “To Kill a Mockingbird,” which was a book I returned to again and again as an adolescent, and “The Complete Stories of Flannery O’Connor,” which was a book I bought for myself in college when I decided I really wanted to be a writer.

The dress has been hanging for awhile now on our bedroom wall, on my side of the bed, and I had been meaning to make a collage for my husband’s side as well. These things are very simple to make and would be a fun project to do with kids (though at the time I made this, my kids were getting their last precious minutes of Minecraft in before school starts so they refused to assist).

You can Google coloring pages to find artwork if you aren't good at freehand drawing (like me). Then, just print the picture out, resizing on the copier if needed. Cut it into pieces as you see fit. Trace the pieces on pages of a book, cut and reassemble on your background. I used a plain canvas, but this could be fun to put on top of a tag sale painting or something, wouldn’t it? I used Mod Podge to attach my pieces, and put a coat of Mod Podge over the entire thing afterwards.

The hubs is a herpetologist (hence the frog) who teaches, among other subjects, evolutionary biology (hence the Darwin, under the frog's eye). Now we have a matching piece for his side of the bed! 



*weekly-ish

Friday, May 27, 2016

Mommy's Building a Playground: Adventures in Fundraising

Today, I watched a construction company begin the demolition at our elementary school playground, to make way for the Cornerstone PlayLab, which is an ADA accessible outdoor play and learning environment for pre-K to 4th graders, including those with special needs, at our neighborhood public elementary school. I've written previously about our successful fundraising campaign here.
So many people have provided encouragement along the way, and I want to say thank you, to all those who donated time and money or just gave a pat on the back when it was sorely needed. I have always volunteered in small ways, but I have never been part of such a large-scale, multi-year project. I had never done any fundraising before this project. Without the encouragement of so many friends, acquaintances and strangers, I probably would have given up on it. 
Let's do this!
And I also wanted to thank the haters, to all those who said it wouldn’t happen, to the one who said it wouldn’t be built in her lifetime, to the one who said we couldn’t hope to raise the money, to the one who said he’d make damn sure we didn’t, to the one who thought it was a good idea, but not for this state/town/public school/kids like these, to the one who said the very idea of it was against the better interest of the entire community…thank you...because each time one of these negative encounters occurred, we were motivated to raise even more money, to build something even better. I'd guess, by my rough estimation, each of these fine individuals helped to indirectly raise a quarter of our total.
My husband recently asked me what I've learned through all of this. I started writing it down, and it became a long list. Here ‘tis:

Only say “yes” to projects you are completely passionate about.
Your community is full of amazing people you haven’t met. Expand your circle.
While expanding your circle, realize you may not agree on everything, but if you agree on the project, that’s what matters.
The amount of people out there who are good-hearted and generous vastly outnumbers the people who aren’t.
For every 100 people, 99 of them will love ice-cream and one will not. There is no explaining this. Stop trying to get that one person to love ice-cream!
You have no time for the constant complainers and whiners. You have important work to do. Buh-bye.
If there is a nugget of truth to the complaints and whines, you must examine it and think of a solution.
If you can imagine it, it might just be possible to do it. Dream big.
No one wants to support a C-level project. Design the most ambitious thing you can think of, your A-project, your dream project, and others will see your excitement.
Take the proper time to lay the groundwork for a campaign’s success. It’s much easier to get a donation from someone who is already familiar with, and loves, the project. PR is everything.
You might get to your target goal faster with a half dozen major donors, but it’s much more meaningful if you get there with a few bigger donors and lots and lots and lots of smaller ones.
It takes time to meet with people and explain your project, but the details can be just as important to the $10 donor as the $10,000 one. Ownership is everything. Let everyone feel a part of it.
Anyone who would attempt to de-rail a worthwhile project such as this has problems that probably have nothing to do with you or the project. Try not to take it personally.
If someone feels the need to de-rail, it means the project is gaining momentum. Keep going.
You can never thank the people who helped you too many times.
Don’t expect to be thanked yourself, but take a moment to enjoy it when it happens.
Remember who you’re doing this for.
Recognize and be grateful for what the project has done for you (community service brings greater personal happiness).
Listen and learn from all the people who have done this type of thing many times before you.
Don’t be afraid to speak up when you think the advice of those people might be wrong.
When in doubt, ask the lawyer. Always, get it in writing.
Build a strong enough team so that any one person can take a mental health day (or week), and the project won’t fall apart.
Some people take longer to see the light. If/when they do, try not to hold a grudge.
Someday, probably soon, you’re going to look back on this hard work and miss it.
You’ll not have a chance to do this particular project again. Make it spectacular.

Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Sparking Joy, in The Closet

There’s been a lot of organizing talk on the old Internet lately, both fawning and less-so, regarding the bestselling book, “Spark Joy: An Illustrated Master Class on the Art of Organizing and Tidying Up” by Marie Kondo. I have not read it. I’ve never picked up a book on organizing because I feel like I was hardwired to do it, no instruction manual needed. 

Nothing makes me happier than an area that is both beautiful, and functional, a place for everything and everything in its place. And yes, I realize this type of behavior can make others crazy, and can make me loony bins myself if I take it too far, so I regularly allow myself to create messes, and live with them, as practice for being a normal person.

Speaking of messes, take a look at this before shot of my closet. Does this look like the closet of an organized person? I never meant for it to get this out of hand. It's just that I’d been throwing stuff in there as I worked on re-doing our bedroom, and once stuff gets thrown somewhere, it’s oh-so-easy to throw more on top of it, in a grand mess-begetting-a-mess-begetting-a-mess, until you can’t see the floor. This is a closet where a person might hide behind the clothes eating Hostess Twinkies under the dim light of the bare bulb (not that I’ve ever done that). In a word, this closet is scary.

Once my bedroom was re-done, I decided the closet needed major help. So, what did I do first, in my attempt to create an organized, beautiful closet? Friends, I took off the door. No door meant that when I woke up every morning, my face positioned such that I was looking directly at the closet, I felt terrible. This is tough love, people. I basically shamed myself into a closet re-do.

Once the door was off, I cleared everything out, repeating to husband and children one of my favorite mantras of organizing: "it's going to get worse before it gets better." I handled every item and decided its fate: "Keep" or "Donate." Marie Kondo tells readers to consider whether an item "sparks joy." My rules weren’t quite so esoteric. They were:

1. Do I like it?
2. Does it fit me right now (not would it fit me if I lost ten pounds?)

Simple enough, right? I gave away six garbage bags full of clothes. Then, having whittled my options down considerably, I painted the room--ceiling and walls in a light tan, and fresh white trim. I got a pretty, vintage-looking glass globe to cover that bare bulb. I replaced one short hanging rod with a very cool antique cabinet containing many shelves for folded items and baskets of small things. I replaced some ill-fitting metal shelving units with two rods (a shorter one beneath holds skirts and pants) on the other wall. The shelf, I painted and kept.

Here’s a tip for those folded sweaters. I know from experience that no matter how neatly I stack things on a shelf, they will eventually tumble over. You really need a divider, but bonafide closet shelf dividers are crazy expensive (try upwards of $40 for two). They are basically pieces of metal. You know what else is metal and heavy and keeps things in place? Bookends. I bought two pairs from Staples at $8 each. They work great.

There’s a hanging shoe pouch in the back for the heels I rarely wear (there’s just not much call for formal wear for work-from-home writers). An IKEA step stool tucked under the clothes helps me reach the top shelf. A cordless shade from Lowes and faux fur IKEA rug add a nice touch. The only thing missing from this closet re-do is some new clothes! And I will say this, my new closet definitely sparks some joy.

Monday, April 4, 2016

Filling the Well


“Filling the Well” is a phrase I first encountered many years ago in Julia Cameron’s book “The Artist’s Way.” It’s a concept for writers that's quite simple to grasp, harder to accomplish. It simply refers to having new experiences, getting out into the world, seeing, hearing, smelling, touching, tasting new things so that you can write about them.

It’s a great thing to do in that down-time after finishing a major project, oh, like say my novel, “Happy, Indiana.” Of course, another great thing to do in that downtime is a whole lot more writing. I wrote a picture book and I’m working on a trillion essay ideas because I’ve learned you have to constantly keep writing, otherwise, a rejection comes in, and you crawl back into bed, when what you really want to happen is--the rejection comes in and you’re all nonchalant, like oh, what are you even talking about, agent/editor person? That old project? Why, fiddle dee dee, I’ve almost completely forgotten about that because you see, I am so very, very busy with so many very exciting projects and prospects…
Selfie finishing the novel in my footie pjs.

But back to filling that well. Now, good writers read, a lot, and so new ideas are always coming in to the old brain that way, but there’s really no substitute for experiencing things first-hand. It doesn’t have to be hard, and it doesn’t have to be expensive. The last time I taught a creative writing class, I had my students seek out a new experience, and one of the young men went to a local yarn store (now, sadly, defunct) and explored around and struck up a conversation with the proprietress about various types of yarn and had a grand old time and, who knows, may feature some kind of crochet loving character in his next story.

In other words, we don’t have to spring for air fare to another country to fill the well. But, we do need to get off the couch/out of our writing closet. And this is hard for a lot of us, myself included. We like being alone in our closets with our words and our ideas, but the problem is, if we don’t get off our tushies, we develop flat tushies and, more importantly, run the risk of writing about writers, of writing scenes with characters in coffeehouses, of writing characters who spend a lot of time staring out windows (fyi—I had too many “She stared out the window…” lines in my novel and had to cut them back.) We’re generally a boring people, writers. Just boring people with outsized imaginations. But, like all monsters, imaginations have to be fed or they will turn on us.

So if you see a pasty looking misfit on the edge of your meeting on city zoning ordinances, it’s just a writer filling the well. If you see a weirdo at your craft fair booth rubbing the mosaic turtle you made, it’s just a writer trying to add to her sensory experiences. Just nod, back away slowly, and know you might be providing her the spark she needs for her next, great writing project.