The Man Burns

The New York Times has a incredibly cool photo of Burning Man today. Yup, the Man burns on Saturday. I haven't been there since 2004, not to the Festival that is. Pining to return to the Playa. In the photo I can see my characters Emma and Jean Claude, looking at the art in the desert.

Festival Madness hasn't sold, and I've not been able to drum up any interest. Would that some of the agents who have yet to respond see the stuff in the times and say, "hey, didn't I just have a query about Burning Man?"

I am going to break a rule this week, and send a photo from the paper along with my query. That's a no-no, but WTF? Nothing I've done so far has sparked a burning interest in the novel.

Whatever drummer I am marching to these days appears to be out in the desert (the playa?) banging out a rhythm that nobody but me can follow. You'd think this would be good for a writer, but it's not.

My suspense novel is approaching 70,000 words. Writing some fun stuff now, and in a few pages the computer is stolen. This book will end up in Gerlach, last town before the Man. With a shootout. And the world's most unlikely hero will surface. And there will be redemption.

In the meantime, this is the week to push Festival Madness.

http://www.burningman.com/

http://topics.nytimes.com/topics/reference/timestopics/subjects/b/burning_man_festival/index.html

What A Writer Does Besides Write

Sometimes a writer cooks or even bakes.

Otherwise?

Oh yes! Lots of "stuff." Yesterday, I tailored my robot fish story for a submission to Esquire. Then I submitted another story to a journal I found in Poets & Writers. Yet another poem went to a Poets & Writers poetry journal. Sent an email to another journal asking about how they want a submission. I could turn a Toastmaster's Speech into a humorous essay. Might be fun.

Spent a lot of time looking at my "finished" poetry and trying to decide if there's enough to enter for a Chapbook. Yeah, but. Maybe a couple more poems would flesh it out a little. Forgot my Sonora desert poems were so good. For a while, I wrote poetry regularly.

Made a list of the details I noted coming into New Haven for one line I need for the new novel.

Now I am sorting through the huge Thrillerfest listing of literary agents looking for agents to query. I have to make sure I haven't queried them before, as least not for the book I'm pitching now. Trying to read between the lines. Looking at their web sites to see what kind of work they publish. This is a time suck of the first order. I could be getting mosquito bites in the garden. Could be fixing lunch. Now there's an idea.

Need to get back to my novel. Need to do a lot of things, like my neck exercises because I sit at the g.d. computer all day and my neck gets to stiff I can't turn my head. Makes backing up

the car a little dicey.

We seem to have a pet mosquito here in the office. He didn't bite last night when he had a chance, so I won't swat him. Live and let live.

I'll send out 5 more queries for various novels using the agents identified so far. Querying three novels at this point. When I finish In Flight, that will make four. This is a full time job. One hundred twenty queries per book before I throw in the towel. That makes three hundred sixty in all. Oh god, can I see it through?

Discovered how to make my twitters show up on Face book. Not technically dead yet after my retirement from IT.

The photo is the last of the blueberry tart. Make your pie dough in the food processor. It only takes the time to measure the ingredients. I mix a little sugar and seasoning and instant tapioca into the fruit. Any kind of fruit. Almost an instant dessert, as the tart is free form.

Some cooking is really easy. Experience counts. Too bad that doesn't seem to hold in submitting work to agents. Ah me!

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#Queryfail day

They had "Query Fail Day" on Twitter yesterday, and some literary agents tweeted about the worst queries they had ever received. I read a blog that had summarized them and I have to admit there were some lulus. Fictional novelists, take note. Your novel is, by definition, fiction. And writers, if you have been abducted by enemy aliens, don't tell the agent. Pretend this is fiction.

I have sent out a lot of fruitless queries in my day, but none that would shame me. At least, I don't think so.

Lately, I've been having trouble with agents responding, which is to say they don't. This is the problem with email queries. You email the agent. She says, "sounds good. Send 50 pages" or whatever, and you do. In "reply." Right away, before she forgets.

Except, then something happens, and you hear nothing. Nada. Niente. So you send a friendly email follow up, and she replies that she must have lost it, send again.

And that's the end of it. Again, nothing. Except by now you're too embarrassed to send a second reminder. And you also ask yourself if you really want an agent, no matter how big the name or the agency, who keeps losing your writing. I mean, is this any way to run an agency. So I'm moving these queries to the "no response" bucket. And crossing the agent off the list. Gee, she seemed nice. Sharp. Good reputation. Why did she lose my stuff?

Maybe there should be "agent fail day" (#agentfailday) and everyone could bitch and moan about queries that went into the ether. No names, of course. You don't want to burn any bridges. Never burn bridges.

Suck it up. That's the ticket. Jeez, why didn't I think of that?

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Queries: the long and the short of it

After my last post, at 10:44 this morning, I tackled the list of agents appearing in the spring at a writing conference. First I had to separate those I had already queried and from which book. I went through their web sites and discovered some didn't take genre writing and others accepted only non-fiction. Some had already rejected one book or another. The list had really shrunk by the time I parsed the whole thing. It also hurts if the agent has no web site. Will they like a so-called high tech novel? I think not.

Went upstairs and made and consumed a turkey sandwich. Ah man! What could be better than thin sliced white meat on thin sliced white bread with slatherings of mayo and sprinkled with salt and pepper with thin sliced tomatoes and a big leaf of lettuce thrown in to salve the conscience? Yum! Add a few slices of Mrs. Fannings pickles and a few potato chips.

When I got on the scale this morning, the first thought was: how can my pajamas have gained four pounds? Then, I thought: no, it has to be water. Lots of water.

Ye gods! I put on my gym clothes with good intentions for a walk or a visit to the gym, but the rains came and the weather was dark and cold and I didn't feel like going to the gym. As evidenced above, I felt like scarfing down some more of the turkey.

Thisbe's diabetes is much improved, and her coat is so much softer. She is eating Atkins for kitties and the fancy high-priced moist food. Yesterday, most unaccountably, she begged for roast turkey while I was slicing it for dinner. Ate some. Ate some more. When I fixed my sandwich she asked for more. And again.

This from a cat who never eats people food. Well, not since yesterday. It's good high-quality protein, I tell myself when Thisbe and I both feel like a bit of a nosh. This is amazing. I wonder if her body knows this is a good thing in her current state of health. My body only knows that it likes to eat.

Back down to the agents: After all was said and done, I found two, one for Festival Madness and one for World of Mirrors. Nobody for Promiscuous mode, which was the whole point of the exercise. So one email and one SnailMail query have gone out. It's 3:45 and the day is gone. Few queries and no exercise.

I will visit my drug lord. Maybe he'll talk to me. And then again . . . .

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Sucking It Up More Than Usual

So, kids, I'm going to begin querying big time: 10 queries per month for World of Mirrors, same for Promiscuous Mode and likewise for Festival Madness. That's 30 queries a month, which is painful but do-able. I'm also going to submit to a few more publishers.

Moving forward, inching along, and no doubt plenty of rejection. Everyone says the writing is good, and therefore the story must be the stumbling block. Need to plug away at my 20's book, too. Wanted it done by August, but I don't think that's possible, but I could write the major scenes and then string them together.

Nothing could be weirder than Festival Madness where I began writing in the middle. I need a new query for World of Mirrors

The courses I've taken on hooks and synopses have not really been as helpful as I had hoped.

It would be nice to have a few comments now and then. I know there are readers, but without posts, the blog stays in the toilet on the Technorati rankings. Please?

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