Slice of Life Day # 4: Agents, Rejections and Queries... Oh My!

I'm a Butt Kicker. I also get my butt kicked.

Let me explain. I belong to a writing accountability group. We began a little over a year ago--we wrote some large, year-long goals and then every week, we set some goals. Some weeks we achieve what we intend... and then some. Other weeks, we stumble. And we do all of this via Dropbox, because we're scattered all over the world. (One of us lives in Australia.)

Now we're in our 2nd year. The first year, we called ourselves Persistent Pencil Pushers. This year, we're feeling sassier, and call our group Butt-Kickers because that's what we do: we nudge and encourage and push each other to keep writing, keep submitting and keep querying.

I've got a manuscript that I wrote for NaNoWriMo 2016. I spent a year writing it. Then I spent the next year revising it slashing and burning most of it and then beginning from scratch.

My weekly goal is to do 2 submission-y or query-y things. (Don't you love those specific writerly terms?) I queried 3 agents yesterday, which means that now 10 agents have my query letter and the first 5-30 pages (whatever amount they wanted). I researched and copied and pasted while binge-watching a show a friend recommended. (Thanks, Tracy. It not only had Nicky in it, it also had Daya and Wes Driscoll. I thoroughly enjoyed it.) 

I drank two bottles of this cider on Sunday--it's from Aldi's and is delicious.

I've already been rejected by one. I printed that email off, and plan to collect rejection notices until I get a resounding yes from someone.

Writers. We're strange creatures. If we make our goals public, we tend to be more vigilant with them. And we revel in getting rejected, because that means we're submitting...

(And here's a picture of my handsome blonde boy. While I was binge-ing, sipping and submitting, he was romping in the snow.)

Slice of Life Day # 3: We Laughed. We cried. We ate.

Okay, so yesterday morning 7 sixth graders, two parents (a mom and dad of one of my students) and I headed to Columbia. We left at 10. It was a two hour trip one-way because I drove the speed limit the whole way, since I was transporting kids whose parents had put their kids' lives in my hands. Usually I drive... uh, a bit faster than the posted speed limit.

We were going to have lunch with Ibtisam Barakat, a Palestinian memoir author.

Backtrack to yesterday at 4. In the morning. The crack of chicken time. I'd had a rough evening the night before, so I couldn't cook then. And since I'm Princess Procrastination, I didn't cook a couple of evenings before. So. I had no choice but to cook--in a frenzy--yesterday morning.

I did cook. Everything got finished in time to load it in my car, along with students. That's not the slice of my life I'd like to look at today.

Today I want to reflect on the conversation we had, sitting in a big circle in the living room of my sister (the sister I've only known about for less than 20 years).

The kids were busily tearing off bits of pita bread to nibble on. They'd slurped up lentil and green wheat soups they loved. (Well, they loved the shorbet adas. The freekeh? Not so much.) They'd drunk way too much soda. Our guest of honor--Ibtisam Barakat--sat at the head of the circle, and she asked one single, mind-blowing question:

What book would you write that would heal you, and heal the rest of the world?

What had I expected when I planned this adventure? I expected my students would ask the author questions. I expected there would be some picture-taking and some book signing. What we got--so above and beyond that--was not at all what I expected.

My 6th graders answered her, one at a time. When they tried to skirt the issue with vagueness, she lasered-in on them and got them back onto the path of raw-and-honest.

The stuff the kids told about themselves. It. Was. Amazing. We laughed. We cried. We ate.

We connected...
  

Slice of Life Day # 2

Shorbet Adas bubbling away in the instant pot, fragrant with cumin, turmeric and freshly-squeezed lemons...

Bamieh cooking in the oven, the flavors of coriander, garlic and cumin (oops! I forgot the pomegranate molasses... I'll be right back) melding into a delicious dish.

A big pot of freekeh cooling in the fridge...

Some shakshoukeh sauteed at 5 this morning and already safely stored in a plastic tub--ready for transport...

In few hours I'll be headed to Columbia with 7 of my students to meet Ibtisam Barakat. We're bringing some Palestinian dishes. Hopefully--even though I probably didn't get all the flavors on point, she will feel honored that I at least tried...

... because I was so honored that she shared her story in the memoir Tasting the Sky.
   

Slice of Life # 1

             Today I had a snow day. A gift from the gods. A much-needed break from my routine.

          One of the things I got to do (since I wasn't slaving over a hot smartboard) was play two long games of fetch with Radar. My dog loves to race after a ball--over and over. Leaping into the air for it, chasing it across the yard, running circles around a tree--he's thrilled. All I have to do is put on my coat and head towards the kitchen door and Radar's so excited, he's whirling in circles.

          What if we got ecstatic over such a simple thing? What if we were willing to show our excitement... so that others could share in our joy?

           I think I've linked this video before, but it shows exactly why I'm drawn to golden retrievers...

(I'm taking part in the Slice of Life Challenge. This blog is where it all began.)

Can an Old Dog Learn New Tricks?

This, of course, is not an old dog. This is one of the golden doodles that was born into our rescue seven months ago. This little guy has a forever home and is living a wonderful life.

However, I'm not a young dog. I'm a fat, sassy and somethings arthritic dog. Can I still learn things?

Yes. I recently reflected on it, and found four things I've learned about writing, and I posted them here.  Just a hint: They involve yardsticks, my pants(ing) habits and unexpected nudges.

How about you? What "tricks" have you learned lately? Inquiring minds want to know...

A Reformed Pantser?

cards to help me organize my next novel...

I usually write creative nonfiction. Personal essays. Short memoir pieces. Novels are definitely not my thing.

However, over two years ago I began writing a novel for middle-graders. I wrote it during NaNoWriMo of 2016, alongside my middle-school students. Because it's historical fiction, I could fly by the seat of my pants. I didn't create an outline. I didn't do any pre-planning. I followed the timeline of the historical event (it took place over a two-day period) and it seemed to work.

(Now I'm shopping it around, hoping to snag an agent or publisher.)

For NaNoWriMo of 2017, I started another novel, this one for young adults. Since there was no historical event to help me pace out the story, the plot has floundered. There's lots of character development and unconnected events, but no true "story." I was frustrated because I had written around 25,000 words and nothing had really happened. 

Then destiny came dashing in. I was asked by The Muffin to review a book. After I read it, my opinion of planning and outlining completely changed.

This book is so user-friendly and presents an innovative way of helping writers organize their novel. However, there's plenty of room of room for me to pants around (write by the seat of my pants) as well.

I'm heading to a writing retreat this weekend. Hopefully, I will get enough note-writing done so I can do some outlining during the retreat.

A pantser becoming a planner... It's a miracle.