Crazy Cat Book & Query Letters

I met an agent last fall at a writers conference where we were both presenting and she mentioned she was looking for a "crazy cat book. " Hell-oh!  We e-mailed a bit and I put together what I thought (and still think) is a great query letter with a unique yet bizarre idea. A lot of times as a writer you send things out in the world just not knowing what the response will be. But I have to say, I fully expected this woman to bite. Instead, I got a ding letter. And I thought for those of you who have not experienced the joy of receiving a ding letter, I would translate the hidden meaning behind the words.

Here is the actual letter:

Dear Author,

Thank you for your submission, and we apologize for our delayed response. It was kind of you to think of us, but we are sorry to be unable to offer to see more of your work.

We appreciate the opportunity to consider your materials, and we wish you the best of luck elsewhere.

Sincerely,

Big Shot Literary Agency

For those in the know, here is what this letter is actually saying:

Dear Loser,

We enjoy knowing we control your destiny and spent months circulating your letter through our office where you'll be pleased to know it was used for target practice, a hand towel, and in the end, to wipe the runny flu-swelled nose of our most important client's prize-winning Beagle. It was amusing that you thought we might actually be interested in representing you, and we are sorry more authors of your caliber don't submit work to us, as we need the laughs.

We appreciate the opportunity to reflect on why we are now and always will be better and more important personages than yourself. However, please consider this letter a formal cease and desist notice and be advised we will instigate legal action should you chose to even consider sending us material in the future.

Kiss Off,

Big Shot Literary Agency

Ding letters... fear them...

2008 Erma Bombeck Writers Conference - The Low Down

Just back from the 2008 Erma Bombeck Writer's Conference in Dayton, my old stomping grounds. It was cold and gray when I arrived but the dirt was brown, as earth is supposed to be (not this red clay stuff forced upon us in North Carolina). Laughed a lot, made new friends, and even managed to learn a thing or two despite my best intentions to only drink wine, eat free desserts, and take guilt free long, hot showers.  A non-writer friend once asked me what goes on at these writer workshops, so here's my attempt at a summary:

• Lunch and dinner speakers. Among others, Garrison Keillor from A Prairie Home Companion, Pulitzer Prize winner Connie Schultz, Martha Bolton who wrote for Bob Hope and Phyllis Diller, and Mike Peters who writes/draws the comic strip Mother Goose and Grimm. My impressions of these people: Garrison looks like a homeless man but he opens his mouth and a golden glow comes out and you realize you're in the presence of a writing/storytelling god; Simply put, I want to BE Connie Schultz when I grow up; I suspect Martha Bolton to be a Republican but she is so charming in every other aspect, I'm willing to overlook it; and Mike Peters seriously needs to consider Ridlin, but then again maybe not, as he's friggin' hysterical as is.
• Workshops: Lot of attention paid to U-Tube this year. Will making bad videos sell books? We're writers... we're desperate... it's worth a shot.
• American Greetings was there and my new goal in life is to have a greeting card published. If I do, be prepared to receive this card, and only this card, from me on every card-giving occasion for the rest of your life.
• Got a good writing tip for essays. Instead of trying to dive in, write, "This is a story about..." and repeat for 10 minutes. The second part of the sentence should include sensory detail. So instead of "This is a story about animal shelters," it would be, "This is a story about cement cages with no beds and cold floors. This is a story about fur matted with lice, fleas, and the burns and scars of neglect. This is a story about a 10-month old Labrador puppy whose tail creates minor earthquakes as it thumps the floor in greeting."  You take a couple of statements that stand out for you and expand on them. It's a way of tricking your brain into getting started writing while starting to compile story details.

There's more, but tiredness just caught me.  I think I hear bad TV calling my name. Only I'm a writer, so it's not bad TV. It's "cultural research." I can probably even deduct the cable bill.

Cheers.

The Creepiness of Life

It's happening again. Every couple of weeks I sit myself down for the "all you're going to do is write" lecture. I hang tough for a few days and then... life creeps back in. I know I can't keep life out, and I don't want to. I would, however, prefer to limit my involvement in it until the late afternoon hours.

But how do you hold life back? This week is a good example. Monday was trashed as we had to drive 3 hours to Fayetteville and 3 hours back to deliver the Saturn to Blair's sister. Tuesday morning I had my eyes dilated--the only time Blair could work into his schedule to take me--and couldn't sit at a computer or read a book for 4 hours afterward. Right there, two working days down the drain.

Or is it really? Nothing is stopping me from working in the evenings, except myself. I'm a morning writer, useless after 2 pm. Plus, I only get to see Blair for 1-2 hours each night--I'd prefer to take advantage of that versus sitting in front of a computer while he's home.

Blair raised a good point the other day when I was complaining about how I let "stuff" get in the way of my writing time. "You always make time for running," he said. "What's the difference?"

Hmmm. Excellent question. Part of the difference is I run with people. I make time because I know people are waiting on me to show up. If I have to run alone... a lot of times it still get skipped (or mileage reduced). There's no getting around the fact that writing is lonely. It's you, a laptop, and your thoughts. And the really hard part is doing the work while having no idea if there will ever be a payoff. I'm fine being a starving, struggling artist for two years, so long as I know that at the end of the two years, it was all for a purpose. The not knowingness is maddening.

But I've shaken myself off and given the speech yet again. I've marked out 8-noon all week next week as uninterrupted writing time. No checking e-mail, answering phones, doing laundry, petting cats, eating meals, running errands, or scheduling meetings. Four hours is not much to ask of myself. But if it's four hours of butt-in-the-chair-doing-the-work writing time, the payoff will be immense.

So don't call, don't write, don't e-mail, and don't bother me... unless it's after 3 pm. =)

Dena

Phone Call

There is a conversation to be had today that I am dreading. I've been at odds with a magazine I write for about payment for some articles. Each of us has taken an opposing view of the situation and today at 5 we are to talk in a final attempt to resolve the matter.

I like everyone I'm dealing with. I just dislike conflict. I feel I am in the right, yet they hold the purse strings and so I see this as them holding more of the power.

I'm trying not to blow the conversation up in my mind before it's had. Maybe they're willing to concede and it will be a pleasant conversation. Maybe. My guess though, is that each side is ready to dig in their heels. I have a compromise position I'm willing to fall back on but I'm not adverse to walking away from the magazine and future assignments. However, I hope it doesn't come to that.

Meanwhile, it will be a long day until 5 pm.