Wrote, Edited, Interviewed, Boxed, Deadlined

Today, in no particular order, I:

1. Wrote.
2. Edited what I wrote.
3. Wrote some more.
4. Was interviewed on “A Passion for Books”—here you’ll find me talking about the voice of DANI NOIR, my most favorite and least favorite characters, and plans for future novels. (See item #6 on this list.)
5. Opened a PO Box. When I called to ask what I needed to bring in order to open a box I was told two forms of ID, a pint of blood, and a DNA sample. I could bring a utility bill or a bank statement, but not both, and if I came with both they would turn me away without the box. (I chose the utility bill.) When I reached the window, I was sent back to fill out the form. When I reached the window again, now with the form, a man stepped in front of me and the clerk yelled at him for cutting the line and then let me go first. He took my form, my ID, my proof of address, and my blood and DNA samples, then searched the entire station for a PO Box to give me. Apparently all the boxes he’d said were free on the phone had been reserved online. He had to type in each key number one at a time to find out if the box was free, so he became increasingly upset as each box turned out to be taken because he really wanted to give me a box, seeing as he had my blood and all. It’s all the drug runners, he joked, those booze runners and drug runners taking all the boxes. Cross your fingers, he told me, because you have two keys left. He tried the second-to-last key and, alas, someone had reserved it. Then he tried the last key in all the station. It said 399. I knew it would be mine. I felt it in my bones. And aha! The box was free and signed over to my name and now you can mail me non-contraband items to PO Box 399 New York, NY 10276. I love that post office. (I’m actually serious; that’s my favorite post office in Manhattan.)
6. Made the *glorious* decision that I would finish my first draft on… DECEMBER 16, one month from today. Now that I’ve written the words down, admitting it to the vast seas of the internet, it must come true. This will give me time to edit it before important people see it. In order to do this, it will take feats of amazing strength, dexterity, and discipline. I might not survive. I might lose an eye. So… Will I make it? Will I beg myself for an extension? Will I drive e crazy in the process? Place your bets. And mail chocolate and/or inspiring words of writing advice to the address above.

Happy Novel

Report from the trenches: Now certainly past the 50,000-word mark and trying not to count words till we’re done. 50,000 in the rearview; still going. It’s best to avoid counting; this way we won’t freak out about being over word count and freak out more about scaring our agent and editor into thinking we’re writing War and Peace* because we are not, no one should worry, it will be far shorter. I will keep the word count secret unless asked. BUT I will report that the novel is feeling fine today. She’s loving the pages I gave her this morning. She’s all shiny and happy and now she wants lunch.

YES!

It’s days like this that make all the other days you struggle through so very worth it.

I can’t pick a voice in this post and I DON’T CARE.

When your novel’s happy, you’re walking on air. Or I am. Or she is. Or we all are. Who cares. The novel is far better written than this post. Off to feed it.

__________________
* War and Peace = 1,296 pages; paperback shipping weight = 2 pounds

Pressure, Now Fully Illustrated

*Pressure*

Feeling it.

I pressure myself more than anyone else does. Do you ever feel like you’re running behind yourself, screaming in your own ear to pick up the pace? Move faster. Think up a better word. Write a better book than last time. Write a better book than you think you’re writing now. Do not disappoint them. Do not disappoint yourself. You’re not working hard enough. Move, move, move!

I joked about the five compartments of my brain on Facebook, but really it’s the truth. My mind is really filled up with only five things right now. Can we have a pie chart?

Truth is, I’m stressed out. I need to go home. Why does it always happen that when I decide I need to go home it’s dark and I can’t find my shoes?

A Young Writer’s Big Dreams

In emailing with another writer about her book out on submission I admitted that one of the publishers she’d mentioned had been my Dream Publisher when I was a young writer just starting out. Which reminded me of the Big Dreams that young writer had, dreams she lugged around for years. Her Big Dreams were very, very specific. And she was extremely impatient about them coming true.

What she—what we—wanted were 3 specific things:

1. An MFA from a certain big university
2. An agent from a certain big agency
3. A novel published with a certain imprint at a certain big house

Funny how things worked out. Item #1 was accomplished, and we’ll be paying off those student loans till we die, so I really wish we’d chucked the list of Big Dreams at twenty-two.

Item #2 was attempted long, long ago, and failed. Then, just this spring, with a new novel, Item #2 was attempted once again—and this time we succeeded… we could have had Item #2 if we wanted it. But then we realized that Item #2 didn’t need to be so rigid… Because what we wanted was someone else. In a startling turn, we shocked ourselves by revising Item #2 and, as you probably know, we’re quite happy with how that worked out.

A strange, sideways version of Item #3 is coming true right now. The novel I’m writing is with the certain big house we’d always wanted, but the imprint is different—it’s a far better-fitting imprint, the perfect imprint. Item #3 didn’t even come up, and until the email with my writer friend today I’d forgotten all about it.

Looking back on all that, I now am doing 3 things:

1. Laughing at myself
2. Smiling at how things ultimately turned out
3. Telling myself to keep an open mind with future Big Dreams

The young writer with the above Big Dreams also had a timetable, and we lost out on that years ago. It’s funny how dreams go when they come true. They’re not what you expected and yet entirely what you’d hoped for all the same. And sometimes they take so long you forgot all about what you thought you wanted. How strange.

Also, maybe, this is a lesson in not planning out your entire life in such specific detail at age twenty.

The Day Literary Agents Go Extinct…

…is the day I am in Big Trouble.

So there was an alarming post in Galley Cat yesterday—and I was happy to wake up this morning and see my agency’s response here on their blog.

I like this especially:

At the risk of sounding self-serving, every serious author needs an agent. Not just any agent, of course. You need a good agent. One who is an advocate, who is willing to fight for you and who is able to tell you when you’re being unreasonable and doing your career more harm than good. You need someone who’ll tell you they believe in you when you think you’re the biggest literary fraud since James Frey (who is actually a very good writer despite his questionable morals). You need someone who asks about your ailing grandmother and vets your contracts. You need someone who will look at your royalty statements and make sure that the publisher isn’t holding a 75% reserve for returns. You need someone who is willing to try to place foreign rights to a book that is so hopelessly American that no one outside of the 50 states would want to read it. You need someone who will do battle with your publishing team and make sure they still like you despite the fact that you aren’t always discreet about them in your Facebook posts. You need someone who’ll see you through the process from idea to publication to the inevitable disappointment when the publicity for your book is done with before you noticed it had started. And, you need an agent because in these trying times, we’re sometimes the only people who offer continuity and stability in what everyone hopes is a long career. [see here for the whole post]

Um—blushing furiously over mistakes I know I’ve made—yeah, I sure need mine.

As a writer who started out without an agent and sold that first book without one, which may make it seem like you don’t need an agent, all I’ll say is I’ve had it both ways and I know what I need to make a career out of this: a good agent. I’m hoping to keep mine for the whole of my career; he’s done so much more for me than just negotiating a contract—which he did amazingly, btw. Just add me in as one more writer grateful for the time, attention, expertise, support, honesty, and imagination my agent has given me so far.

I know how this reads, when you don’t have an agent. Yeah-yeah-yeah they’re helpful and they’re pretty awesome and you’re so happy and just rub my face in it why don’t you. I’ve been there, so how do you go about getting one in the first place? Here’s some query advice, not from me, from someone who knows what he’s talking about.

All this is pretty timely because literary agents are on my mind today. Not for me, for a friend. A talented writer I’ve known for years is sending out his queries today. I hope he finds the absolute best agent for him and his book. All my good publishing vibes are in his corner. C’mon, agents, snatch him up quick!

(More on Galley Cat today: Literary Agents React!)

Short, Impromptu Twitter Break

I’m off Twitter (and Facebook?) for a bit—just a few days, back Saturday. I’ll slip back in every once in a while for exciting announcements, like this contest where you can win a signed DANI NOIR  or a Gilda! So you might see me peek in. But other than that, I just need to be writing and re-doing my new idea for my new book. I wish I could be better about balancing Twitter with my writing life, but so far I can’t seem to handle it. I see other writers tweeting up a storm and writing their books and I wish I knew how they did it. Advice welcome.

Today You’ll Find Me: (1) In Print for the First Time; (2) Giving Away GILDA; (3) Trying, Failing, Trying Again

1)

Photograph of me by Jennifer May

The very first profile of me—ever in my life—is out this month in Chronogram Magazine, this beautiful monthly arts and culture magazine in the Hudson Valley, where I’m from. It’s so exciting to be featured, especially because that’s where I grew up. When I was a teenager living there, I had all these lofty dreams of growing up to become a “Writer”… I’m not really sure how I pieced together what being a “Writer” would entail, and how I’d know when I was one, and I sure didn’t think of how much hard work would be involved, and how many years it could take… but I was very set on it. You couldn’t have talked me out of it if you’d tried.

Seeing the profile makes me think that maybe it actually really came true.

In the Chronogram story, “Poison and Polka Dots,” you can find out more about me, my hometown, my inspirations, and the new manuscript I’m writing that’s currently consuming me in all the good, awesome ways you can be consumed by a manuscript. If you aren’t in the Hudson Valley and can’t get a copy of Chronogram, don’t worry, you can read the story online.

I think it’s important to savor every first. I’m thrilled that Chronogram was the first magazine to have me in it!

2)

You have another chance to win a signed copy of DANI NOIR—just visit Susan Adrian’s blog, where you’ll find an interview of me about noir inspirations, slipping into the skin of a 13-year-old, and my admittedly ridic writing process. Plus, we’re giving away not just a signed copy of the book but a DVD of the movie Gilda, starring the stunning, incomparable Rita Hayworth.

I love Rita Hayworth, just like my character Dani does. Don’t you?

3)

I spent all day yesterday writing something that failed. An idea I’m throwing away today. Now, yesterday, I didn’t know it had failed, or else I wouldn’t have spent all that time writing it. Yesterday, if you’d said to me: “That idea is not worth working on,” I would have fought you on it, probable scratching and name-calling involved. But today’s a whole new day, and in daylight I can see what I couldn’t see yesterday. What’s working, and—more importantly—what’s not working. There’s a new idea as of this morning, one I’m much more excited about. So I’m starting back at the blank page, but I’m going to keep trying. I won’t ever stop trying.

I’ll get there. No matter how long it takes.