Agent/Publisher Search

One of the hardest things for an "up-and-coming" author to do is choose which manuscript they think will be "the one" to get them at least a partial read, better a full request, and ultimately a contract. I have self-published four books and had an e-publisher for the fifth work, but even still, I know I have an uphill climb to go. I have five other manuscripts that I could shop (and even some people have said why not shop the novels you've already self-published?) but that's a tricky thing, isn't it? Nevertheless, I have NO idea which to shop. At least one that I'm considering has been to the second-ring of acceptance (the partial) but was ultimately passed over by an agent. One has a full request, which is a yay! , but I guess that means I can't submit that to an agent (although to be fair, that one is with a publisher also).Ironically, that manuscript has also been rejected by another publisher (but that publisher had also requested a full manuscript...hmm, I may have my answer!). Then again, this very same manuscript got rejected in full by another publisher (but they demand unsolicited queries to include the full MS, so it wasn't "requested" per se).

I then have two more manuscripts that I haven't really sent out yet, but I don't know how to label them. I think they both might be women's fiction, but I am not sure. The advice from authors is to just submit your strongest work, but the agents/editors want you to tell them what kind. One very nice lit agent said that my submission for RJC wasn't romance, but rather women's fiction. I can see what she meant by that, but for me, I am telling a love story. All of my stories are love stories...but they don't call IF BEALE STREET COULD TALK a romance even though Fonny is one of my favorite "heroes" ever. I don't know. It's like divining the future. The other complication is I'm actually doing very well with my self-publishing. . From all the articles I've read about "average" self-publishing sales, I'm doing twice as good--three times as good as those averages. Maybe the rules are different for AA writers? Word of mouth is huge, and I have a lovely crew of readers who do like to talk! And I don't know. I'm being pulled in several directions, but I don't want to "give up" and be content with the self-publishing. I'll just put my stuff out there and hope an agent likes it, I reckon. At the very least I know readers do!

Updates and a Chat

I finally got a response back for a submission I made for Manna Tree. The good news is the editor thought the story was well-written and packed with strong emotion. Unfortunately, she passed on it. This is one of those bittersweet rejections, because the person recognizes the talent, but aren't feeling the story. One day . . . I'll marry the two. But jeez, it's still frustrating as all get out.

Anyway, I'm going to have a chat tonight from 7-10 PM EST at my Web site. It's pretty much an open chat, but I will be discussing my works--both released and upcoming; posting up excerpts of works in progress; and even giving away some books. I hope you all can make it!

SJF Books Chat Room

Oh, hello.

It's been a month. Heh. Things have been full of me spiritually regrouping, so to speak. Now it's National Novel Writing Month, so I'm currently working on that right now. 50K words in a month sounds pretty daunting, except I've done it for the past for years, starting in 2004 with Being Plumville. That worked out fairly well, didn't it? ;). I've won every year I've done it. 2005 was The Blueprint, although that novel isn't done, and last year it was Manna Tree, which is. This year's NaNo is called NaNo07. It has no title, but I'm thinking that I tend to like historical settings for NaNo, except for last year's of course. This one is set in the mid 1850s, surrounding the events of Bleeding Kansas. That's all I'll say about it at the moment, but I got the idea during my day job as I was proofreading an American history textbook. Go figure. Anyway, right now I'm currently ahead of pace, and hopefully it'll stay that way.

At any rate, this is just a note to tell everyone I am still alive and writing my own original fic. Want proof? Here's the first single-spaced page of NaNo07. It's not beta'ed or spell-checked or anything, as one of the rules not to edit (yes, I do fudge it a little, sue me!) I hope you enjoy!

Sav


~~~~~~

One

The heavy dark clouds had besieged the sky like an invading army, and its cavalry of freezing rain, sleet, and snow attacked with merciless precision. Deborah thought she’d left the farm early enough to beat the storm, but Mrs. Fogg had started talking so, asking how Miss Luella was getting on; and if Mister Grayson was going to try for Kansas City and a proper doctor now that he had gotten that wheel on his wagon fixed; and she how couldn’t wait for another one of Aunt Flora’s buttermilk pies. She’d bounced on the balls of her feet, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she gave wary glances to the sky through the window just above Mrs. Fogg’s head. Nevertheless, she had nodded and given appropriate mews of agreement when Mrs. Fogg had poured the brewed remedy in the brown glass bottle and promised to pray for Miss Luella’s cough to go away. The illness had gripped poor Miss Luella since before Thanksgiving, and the remedy had been the only thing that had managed to ease it. Though the remedy hadn’t been low, Mister Grayson had wanted to get more before the storm arrived. It had smelled like a big mean one; yesterday, the air had been so still and silent even Miss Luella’s coughs had whimpered out her body as if afraid to hurry tempest along. Deborah would’ve fetched the remedy yesterday, but Mister Grayson had to go into town to pick up supplies for the oncoming storm, and Mrs. Fogg lived three miles in the other direction. Mister Grayson didn’t feel comfortable leaving his wife with only Aunt Flora to look after her, the woman older and not as mobile as Deborah was, and since the ground was already snow-dusted from an earlier, yet gentler snowfall, Deborah would be much more able and quicker to retrieve help. Had Mister Grayson not sold off her husband Isaiah a few months before they had moved here year ago, he would’ve stayed with Aunt Flora and Miss Luella while she went off to Mrs. Fogg.

At the rate she was currently going, however, Deborah doubted she was making any better progress than Aunt Flora would have. It felt as if she was sinking into snow and earth and not moving forward at all, instead just marching futilely in place. Cold speared its way through her threadbare wool coat. The snow melted and pooled in her too-big brown pegged brogans, saturating her holey socks and making water squish between her toes with each step she made. The remedy bottle tinged from each pelt of freezing rain, but the squalling winds soon drowned out the sound, joining the snowy brigade and conspiring against her quest home. They lanced frigid precipitation against her naked face, though she’d gratefully her nose and ears had lost sensation early in her trek. Though she’d tried to hide her hands in the sleeves of her coat, they still tingled with the retreat of feeling. She had to get back, though. Miss Luella still needed the remedy, and with this storm going like it was, it would be a long time before Mrs. Fogg could gather more ingredients for another brew, or for anyone to go to Mrs. Fogg’s cabin to get more should she make more. Not only that, Miss Luella had always been so kind to her and Aunt Flora, and Deborah didn’t even want to think about what Mister Grayson would do should his wife become worse. He loved Miss Luella dearly . . .

Deborah’s calves and thighs burned, growing leaden, as if the muscles swelling and constricting simultaneously against the fierceness of the storm. Her head ached, frozen raindrops and snowflakes falling upon her head like mallets. Another squall and an unseen ground hazard sent Deborah stumbling into the snow. Icy shock seized her body, and though her brain demanded her arms to lift her body, she was too exhausted to heed the command.

“Oh, Lord, help me,” she whispered, forcing her panic into a tight ball deep in her belly. She prayed the bottle didn’t break, though she wouldn’t be able to tell because her entire body was soaked and she could no longer feel her hands. A traitorous sob stole from her mouth, but she clamped her chapped lips close together so that more wouldn’t follow. She was stuck outside an unforgiving tempest and had no idea where she was. She didn’t know if she’d past the point of no return . . . didn’t even know where that point would be. Everything around her was gray, white, and dull. She recognized nothing.

Where did the past twenty-five days go?

I know it's been a while since an update. I apologize. I've been busy, busy, busy, and trying to write and all that jazz. Right now, I'm a little over three hours away from getting on a plane to attend the Maui Writers Conference in Hawaii. I've never been to Hawaii, and I'm going alone. I'm nervous, and excited. Hopefully, I'll make some very good connections in the writing world to help me break through. It's hard with the constant rejections, knowing you have a good piece of writing, certainly no worse than much of the stuff published now. If the people have a face to the name, perhaps that would be better? I don't have a bad face, and my haircut is fierce, if I do say so myself!

I'm working on projects still. Gym Story and Vietnam Story are in a semi-hiatus because I haven't had the time necessary to work on them, and I've been trying to write shorter stories to post, but those have turned into longer stories. Funny. Anyway, maybe this trip will inject some "hop-to-it" in me. I hope so.

I entered a contest on Gather.com for Romance First Chapters. I encourage everyone to join and then vote for me! :-D You loff me, I know ;). It's free, but in a probably "shooting myself in the foot" move, please only vote a ten if you'd like to see the next chapter. Also, please comment. I'd like to know what people think, since I don't know how you specifically vote. You don't have to tell me, but comments are nice :).

The novel I chose was Manna Tree. Was that a good choice in your opinion? Let me know!

Finally, I wish all my US folk a happy and safe Labor Day. Can't believe the summer is basically over. What's up with that?!

Aloha!

Sav

Quagmire

That's been my life for the past week, so I apologize for dropping off the face of the proverbial earth. Yes, this week was sent Priority mail from hell, complete with getting more rejections for Manna Tree and RJC than I ever thought possible, so I'm going to need a weekend to recover. All e-mails and such will be answered, now that I have my computer back *snuggles*, and maybe, just maybe, I'll gathered the tatters of my imagination and creativity and write something worthy of posting.

Don't hold breaths, though.

Two bright spots--saw a dear friend of mine at the bus stop yesterday. She's in town for a year, yay! That makes me happy. Also, RAWSISTAZ gave Being Plumville a five-star review on Amazon. I'm not upset at that, either :).

Anyway, I hope everyone's week has been way better than mine.

Overwhelmed (In a Good Way)

First, Happy Belated Birthday to my sister who turned twenty yesterday *dies*. I can't believe it! When did that happen? Oh well, Here's to at least 80 more years!

*cheers*

Also, last week was a very weird week, starting with the "weird" rejection letter to me being just mentally and spiritually exhausted with the whole writing thing. I literally glared at my WiPs for a minute, wondering if they'll ever get finished, will they ever see the light of day once they are *eyes Manna Tree*, did I bite off more than I can chew *eyes Vietnam Story*, will some other off-based agent think my writing "isn't strong enough" and "redundant" *rolls eyes*. I talked with my father on Friday, and he told me something that I had never thought of before he said it--many times it's really not about talent who gets published. It has less to do with you and more to do with the flaws of the industry. And I agreed, and not because my ego needed stroking, but because I talk with other authors who, in my humble and not-so-humble opinion should've been snapped up and published last year. And while e-book publishers are wonderful because they offer you an audience, I defy anyone to say the ultimate goal of an author isn't to make it to NYC and end up on the Bestsellers' List and on Oprah and The Today Show and etc, etc, etc. In other words, maximum audience. These authors who I think of . . . people STARVE for their type of writing, and if agents are so stupid/unwilling to take a risk on them (even if it's not a risk . . . unless the risk is selling too damn many books/books that expand the scope of who a black woman is supposed to be, how a black woman is supposed to be loved, and who is supposed to love her and vice versa), then they DESERVE to miss the boat. If agents and publishers are more willing to give advances to and publish plagiarists than people with real, genuine, authentic talent, then poo on them! I know there are agents, however who are willing to take that risk, however. That is the only reason I and the others of whom I speak haven't given up yet. You find the books, as few and far between they seem to be now, that offer something new. Those books keep hope alive, even if that flame flickers dangerously at best sometimes.

And then, others have been so encouraging to me, keeping me in their thoughts, calling me out on certain message boards :-p, join my group, tell me how excited they are for my book to come out, talk with me into the wee hours in the morning, and make me not care I have to be up in three hours to go to work, texting me because I'd accidentally blocked them on IM while I had explained away her absence by thinking she'd finally gotten the life we had promised ourselves we're gonna get one day lol. Those who just keep me sane and reassure me that it was okay for me to put myself out there and go for it. I'll admit. I'm terrified. I'm terrified my skin isn't thick enough to handle the negativity. I'm terrified that I may exceed my very modest expectations and then not know how to handle it. I'm terrified of talking about my book to strangers and sounding like an idiot. I'm terrified of being asked questions about my writing to which I won't know the answer. Someone told me I'm a much better writer than speaker. Golly. Not something you want to hear, you know, if you have to go and do promotions and sell your book to random people. For so long, my writing has been just a private part of me, and in my tiny nook in the universe, I can talk to folks who know me as a writer and understand, or at least don't hold it against me if they don't. This must be how our parents felt when they watched us in their rearview mirrors as they left us behind on college campuses, or when they let us go to the head of the alter where some man would now be taking care of their baby girl, or when their baby has a baby of their own. Being Plumville is my baby, regardless if it's "the middle child" of sorts (RJC is my first and foremost baby, my thesis, the one that started it all, really). So the obvious question is why start off with Being Plumville? Because I finished it first lol. That's really why. I'm proud of it. I received just great feedback on it (special shout out to mirevas). I believe in it. And it was my original fiction debut in the Internet world, so I figure, why not a debut on a bigger scale?

Anyway, this is a long-winded post to tell folks "thank you". I'd been pleasantly surprised by the encouragement I'd received this past weekend especially. I didn't realize . . . yeah. I just didn't realize that many folks were eager for my writing or read this blog or the group. It's . . . weird . . . but I'm thankful. I guess, there are so many undiscovered authors out there who I think are just amazing and I'm trying to catch up with them. It's not envy, just an appreciation for their art and craft and how they apply it. For people, apparently, to think the same way of my writing is overwhelming. But in a good way.

Randomly

First off: Happy Black History Month! Am I bitter black folk get the shortest and coldest month of the year? Not at all! :-P But happyness abounds.

Second off: I've updated Gym Story (I think . . . I should either come up with a new title soon or just become attached to this one *sigh*) on The Spinner's Yarn group. I think I've decided to update the remaining chapters there. I'll make updates here on the off chance folk actually read this blog lol, but I know who's reading it on the group. Also it's easier for me to respond to comments than on this blog, so . . . yeah

Third off: I need to start the hardest part of writing: The query and synopsis. I hate this part of writing, especially when I just spent all that time and energy writing the dang NOVEL and I have to go back and re-write it in a 1/100 of the space. It leaves me irritated, not gonna lie. What's up right now is Manna Tree, but I have no idea what publishers I should even try for, especially since I've yet to hear from the lit agents who have RJC and that one's gotten rejected right and left. Surprisingly, I'm not bitter in the least, and right now not even frustrated. I know sis is saying I shouldn't do lulu.com, but there's something very appealing about having a "book" in your hand, even if you're not going to sell it. I'll not give into temptation. I'll do it the right way.

And speaking of, Being Plumville is in editing/proofreading phase #583924. I swear, I have to realize that book isn't going to be perfect for every single reader who comes across it, but for me (and it's not because I'm sick of going back and working on it, which I am. Not gonna lie about that) it's right as it is. I have to be true to the characters, not how other people think the characters are supposed to be, and as long as it's plausible for the character, then I've succeeded, right? This isn't to say I haven't heeded some advice. I have. In fact, I woke up at 3AM one morning and started reworking some characterizations, settings, plot points. I like what I did, and hopefully they were improvements and not the opposite. But since this is the first book out the gate for me (we're not going to talk about the other two that are finished or the other three WiPs. We're just not.), this one has to be bangin'.

Since this is the only "career" plan I've ever made, I better do damn well, huh?

Manna Tree

The first draft of this novel is done. I really can't believe it. It took me a year and a half to finish Being Plumville and two years to finish Reconstructing. Manna's muse was very kind to me, and Cole and Margot are really wonderful characters. I don't have favorites, I promise, but these two made it easy for me to write their story.

Don't worry, I still have to at least grammatically edit a few chapters before they get updated on TST and RICH, so those who follow there won't have to worry abou the end for at least a few more days.

I hope you enjoy what's coming!

bana

Manna Tree nee Lemonade nee NaNo '06

lol, I's a dork!

Today I sent poor Stephanie multiple e-mails asking her about a new title I'd thought of for the story. I liked what she was going for with Lemonade, and as I was writing this current chapter I realized what was probably going on. It's really sad that it takes my readers to enlighten me on things, or I'll have to read something over and over again before I get it. I know some people think I plot this stuff out and outline all the "deep" things I find. Y'all really give me too much credit! If it's deep it's real deep--subconscious deep! But anyway, after running the title by Stephanie (and hitting another pit stop along the journey!), I think I've decided on the title that'll stick farreal.

Manna Tree

I won't explain too much because the story's not even done yet, but I think y'all can figure out why it's called what it's called.

Let me know what y'all think!

bana