A LESSON FROM SOMEONE "IN THE MOMENT"

I had a bad morning--one of those days when nothing seems to be working out. Too many projects, not enough time, miscommunication, the works. Jon wasn't doing any better at his desk and we growled and sniped our way through our tasks. Plus, we have all these worries about what's going on in publishing. How can we make sure our clients get a fair price for e-book rights? Are agents going to be necessary in the brave new publishing world? Are books going to be published in the brave new publishing world? Sometimes it's just too much to ponder!

Finally, about 11, I scooped up a few pieces of mail that needed to go out today, threw on my sweatshirt and headed for the mailbox. I got to the end of the sidewalk and stopped in my tracks when I realized I was staring into four sets of big brown eyes. Standing in the orchard across the road were two does and two yearling fawns. (I use the term "road" lightly. Cricklewood Cove is a two lane cul-de-sac, more like a paved path.)

It's cool and cloudy today and I could see the warm air swirling out of their black, shiny noses. They flicked their huge ears, and pawed at the sod. They didn't seem afraid of me, just curious. I stood as still as possible and stared right back at them. One of the fawns grew bored and stepped over to a young oak tree and began nibbling on the remaining dry leaves. I don't know how long the rest of us just stood there. Perhaps a few minutes or so. Finally one of the does began moving toward the street. I did not want her to go that way--in that direction lie real roads, real traffic and terrible consequences. So I whispered, "You beautiful things," and walked toward them. One of the does continued to stare at me as if to say, "Why are you in such a snit?" Then the group slowly turned, gave me a few second looks and headed back from where they had come, in the direction of woods, cover and some serenity.

I watched as they ambled nimbly away, stark white tails flicking in the breeze.

A transformative moment? For me it was.

Deer are everywhere in Pennsylvania, and most people think of them as pests. I've been told that the Pennsylvania white tail deer are not even native to the area but were imported from the West by hunting enthusiasts. Nonetheless, they are magnificent when you unexpectedly encounter them. They can elevate a bad mood in a heartbeat. They can help you put things into perspective.

I still have too much to do. It's still grey and cold today. Emails are piling up. But somewhere not far from here four lovely deer are living in the moment. E-books, publishing and the recession are simply not an issue. Munching on leaves and grass and finding a place to bed down are the real concerns.

WRITERS CONFERENCE WEEKEND

I sat on the agents' panel at the Montgomery County Community College Writers Conference in Blue Bell, PA last weekend. The entire affair was classy and smoothly run. As usual at these events, I don't know who benefited more, the agents or the authors.

After giving brief comments about ourselves and our book "wish lists," we agents answered questions from the audience. The questions were excellent. Here are a few samples:

• Do you need to be a celebrity to sell a memoir? Answer: No. But you need to be a powerful writer with a memorable and life changing story. (One of the agents quipped that it would be very cool if you'd given birth to an alien baby.)
• Is "chick lit" dead? Answer: No. Now it's called women's fiction.
• Is it OK to send a query for a novel that is not completed yet? Answer: NO.
• Is it OK to send a query that includes several projects? Answer: No, no, no.
• What about poetry? Answer: Oh, dear. Most agents love poetry. Trouble is, there is not enough money to go around, so there are few, if any, agents representing the genre.
• Is it best to email or snail mail queries? Answer: It depends on the agent. Find out which format they prefer before sending. There is not a standard answer to this question. It's up to each individual agent.

After the panel discussion, Jon and I had 5-minute "dates" with authors. The authors were splendid--knowledgeable, passionate, innovative and funny. This part of the conference was especially well-managed by the MCCC staff.

All-in-all, it was a great writers conference. Montgomery County Community College is the ideal venue for this event with ample parking, beautiful campus, and great facilities. The writers conference is held every year at this time, so if Philadelphia is nearby, or if you would like to travel to Pennsylvania in the fall, consider going next November.

JURY'S IN: IT WAS A HOAX

Most of you weighed in that the "simply too busy" author wrote her astounding query with her tongue firmly planted in her cheek. Perhaps the underlying mission was to poke at agents who had rejected her.

I hope it made her feel better. Getting form rejections is no fun at all, I understand. But, for most agents, as we've discussed on this blog, the other option is no response at all and most authors don't want that either.

We receive over 100 emailed queries each week. Can you imagine how many hours we'd spend writing personal rejections? We'd have no time to read OR to sell.

So, Ms. Simply Too Busy, suck it up. If you're a fine writer and you've written an exceptional book, some lucky agent will want you to be his or her special darling. Excellent writing trumps all.

Happy weekend to all my author friends!

"SIMPLY TOO BUSY...."

MEMO

TO: Our Loyal Readers

FROM: The "Just When You Think You've Seen It All" department

RE: A doozie of a query

DATE: Today

Breezing through email queries this morning--some good, some bad, one just right--when I received the following: "Please forgive this form letter, but I am simply too busy writing every literary agent in the publishing industry to take the time to inquire individually."

"Huh?" thought I. "Inquire individually? What the heck? Isn't that my name in the 'To' box? And she's 'too busy?' This is supposed to make me what? Pant for her prose? Pul-eeze!"

"Please furnish (she continues), under separate cover (Like an email under an email? Huh?) your contact information and submission requirements. Further, since I'm in communication with so many agents, please don't take this as a rejection of your abilities if I don't respond."

Now I'm really nervous! Will my "abilities" make the grade, cut the mustard, meet with her approval? What if I never hear from her again? How can I mingle in publishing circles, hold my head high or even continue writing this blog?

Comes the coup de grace: "As you know, this is a large and extremely active industry (really?)and I can only afford the time to correspond with those agents most closely aligned with my talent, genre and goals."

"Damn! I just don't think I fit the bill here, said I (quite gleefully)." DELETE.

So, what do ya'll think of this? Is this writer on the level, somewhat demented, but on the level? Or is someone out there playing a mild hoax?

NO MORE FANTASIES, PLEASE

I likes this one!






It's been a busy week. I'm leaving for Boise at the crack of dawn tomorrow and packing files and partials that will accompany me. Although the purpose of this visit is to help my brother and his wife as she heals from ankle surgery, it will be a working trip.

Lots of queries today and lots of "old fashioned" fantasies. I am so overloaded with queries that it's becoming a problem. So I'm initiating a moratorium on them until November 15. That's right. I need to catch up on my manuscripts and partials and hope the flow of queries will slow a bit for the next month and a half.

So, off to Boise I go while Jon (and Norton and Wylie) hold down the office. As you can see, the manuscripts are in capable paws.

A WEEK OF R&R ON THE OUTER BANKS

Before the bottom fell out and Jon's dad began his final decline this summer, we'd made plans to visit North Carolina's Outer Banks in September. So, even though a flooded basement, aging cats, and stacks of reading demanded our attention, we drove off on Saturday morning, September 19 for a week of R&R "down south."

T'was a good decision. We shared a huge house right on the ocean with our lifelong friends Ray and Phyllis and our son Joel and his wife Phaedra from Portland, OR. The weather was perfect--70s and 80s most days and 90 plus on Thursday when we went to Ocracoke Island for a day of fishing. Where does the time go when you're on vacation? I can't tell you. I simply floated from one lovely activity to the next and spent lots of time on the deck gazing at the ocean.

We ate fish every night--had a bluefish feast on Thursday compliments of Jon, Ray and Phaedra who pulled them in. We played cards and Scrabble, took walks on the beach, swam in the warm September ocean and shopped for stuff we didn't need. We watched the sun rise, drank endless cups of coffee and lots and lots of wine, plus one vodka and tonic.

Jon brought partials and spent an entire afternoon reading. Not me. I didn't read a thing.

Now I'm knee-deep in partials and manuscripts and we're back on track. A good thing too. I think summer's finally over. Tomorrow is October 1. On Saturday I fly out to Boise, ID to help my sister-in-law who just had an ankle replacement. But, I'll be working while I'm there and Jon will keep the office running.

Yes, we're more behind than ever, but we're reinvigorated from our vacation and pursuing work with a new vengeance.

CHARGE OF THE WRITE BRIGADE

Just a brief note to tell you that an interview with me is running on the new authors' site, "Charge of the Write Brigade."

Take a look at this site--kind of cool.