The New Writing and Righting

Wow, I have not written a post in quite sometime. This is partly due to laziness, and partly to life having some craziness, but I also have been thinking that I wanted to change my blog idea. I actually came up with the name for my blog before I came up with the whole idea. I knew I wanted it to be about my journey to getting published, but what should the name be? When I came up with writing and righting I decided to include posts about my personal life and trying to "right" my life... eat right, clean or right my house, raise my son right.... but I wasn't digging it.  First of all when I started this blog I was eating pretty much all vegan food. Well I have failed miserably at being a vegan and have decided to just call myself not even vegetarian, but someone who "tries not to eat meat." It makes me feel less accountable. I would sneak a chicken finger only when no one was around like I was taking crack or something... In a perfect world I would be a perfect vegan, but for now... I will try my hardest. I also realized who the bleep cares about me trying to keep my house nice... aren't we all.  I consider myself organized and have even gotten paid to organize other people's houses (actually I am pretty awesome at that), but I don't think my house will ever be in order. And my sweet baby boy, well I'm sure I'll have child rearing figured out when I'm a grandma and I don't remember that sometimes it does take a half an hour to get your child to brush his teeth no matter how many bribes or talk of painful cavity removal methods you tell them. The good news for me is I am going to keep the blog name the same because good lord knows you have to try to write right, or write well ( that sounds better) you have to do the right amount of revising, and editing.  You have to know the right way to send a query, and try to get the right agent and so on an so forth. So my not so new, new title is Writing and Righting. After a year of not querying much, but finding an awesome writers group, writing a lot, attending my first writing workshop and rethinking my blog... I am back in the saddle.  I have read over and over from successful authors to keep trying... they say if they can do it, anyone can. I have also read that it is very easy to give up when trying to get a book published. I can see how easy it is to get distracted and sometimes Netflix does not help at all, but I must keep trying because how the heck is an agent going to be interested in my work if there is nothing in front of them to see in the first place. Time to get back to work.

The Next Day...

The day after I sent my first query out, I married my computer. I checked my email as soon as I woke up, well maybe I visited the bathroom first, and then checked my email. Nothing. But not to fear, the agent I queried is in California, and I am in Ohio. I waited until Noon. Nothing. 12:05, 12:10, 12:15. Nothing, nothing... AND nothing. Hmmm, well I expected that she would read my query and take only moments to respond to me... did this thing get to her? 12:20 Gasp, something came in one minute ago from the agent!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!! Could it be a real Cinderella story???? My heart beat fast as I read... Auto Response... this is a confirmation that your query has been received. Ok.... OK!!! This is very exciting still. My query was in someone's inbox! My quest had begun. I continued to check my email no fewer than 50 times that day, and the next, but soon the reality set in. It ain't that easy sister! Well who wants to be a Cinderella story anyway? You have to work hard to get what you want, you appreciate it more that way. So I started moving forward and sending out more queries. My goal was to query one agent a day, but I soon realized that between taking care of Gabe, and cleaning dishes and clothes, and feeding my family that this was a bit tricky. It takes some time to research agents and prepare a query for them. Sometimes at the end of the day, if I don't fall asleep while snuggling with my son at bedtime, or don't have housework or bills to catch up on... sometimes I just want to watch re-runs of "The Big Bang Theory," or "How I Met Your Mother." So I proceed a little bit slower than planned and with each query sent I stress less, and check the spelling of my name less, and hope for an immediate response less. It starts becoming a job, but in a good way. I job that I like to do, a job that makes me feel good about myself. I no longer expect a fairy tale, but I am hoping for a happy ending.

How do you publish a book?

"How do you publish a book?"  That's what I typed into my computer one hot summer night.  I was sitting outside my little boy's bedroom as he fell asleep, slightly out of his view, but ready to spring into action the moment he took off all of his pj's and painted "special" artwork on the wall, his newest favorite activity.  I had finished the first draft of my childrens book and did not want to waste any time.  I thought I would just send it off to a publishing company, I had plenty to choose from as childrens books were in every corner of our house.  I would just get their website from the back and be on my way.  Well that was my first in a long line of "I have no clue on this earth what it takes to get a book published."
While, yes I could send my manuscript directly to a publisher, most of what I have read says DO NOT.  It will end up right in the trash can.  There is a fantastic job out there that I had never before heard of.  It is called a Literary Agent.  And these  are the people that, I learned, I need to contact first.  I read that it is crucial to get to know the literary agent that you plan to contact.... just don't write to every agent blind.  What genres do they represent, what do they like and dislike?  Read interviews with them, read their blogs (if they have one), follow them on Twitter.  I became immersed in the Literary Agent world and am still there and will probably be there for some time to come.  It is fascinating to me.  They became instant celebrities to me.  Still in my pj's with dishes piled in the sink at 2 in the afternoon, I love to think about what a romantic job it is: meetings, lunches and trips to Starbucks.  Famous authors calling, possible best sellers in their hands at all times... high heeled boots and stylish clothes, big clunky necklaces hanging down to fiddle with as they swivel in their comfy office chairs and peruse the latest query that just fell on their desk.
Which brings us to the query... my other new vocabulary word.  Never heard of it before, and I wasn't even sure how to say it.  According to Webster's: an inquiry from a writer to an editor of a magazine, newspaper, etc., regarding the acceptability of or interest in an idea for an article, news story, or the like: usually presented in the form of a letter that outlines or describes the projected piece.  Pronounced:  kwer' e (both long e's).  So I dove into the land of query letters as well.  And I have to say while there are definitely aspects of the query letter that everyone seems to agree on, there is a whole lot of it that has kept my mind racing at night, trying to figure out the best pitch, angle, and just generally fretting that I won't do it "right".
I spent hours working on my first query letter, thinking I had it just right, then I would read something new that said, "Don't do this," and I thought, "Damn, I did that."  Finally I had a query ready to go... I was happy with it; it seemed to follow all the "rules" and I was going to send it for the first time.  After researching agents so much that I felt I could pick them out if I was on that old dating game on t.v. where the dater is separated from the datees, I choose my first agent to query.  I think I was as nervous as a teenage boy about to ask a girl on a date for the first time.
On September 26, 2011, I began the process of querying my first literary agent. I had everything checked and double checked and ready to go.  I began at 11 p.m.  Then OCD set in.  I checked the agents name and spelling probably fifty times, saying the letters of her name out loud over and over again, stopping to take a deep breath from time to time.  I checked my query letter and manuscript and read them out loud... even read the punctuation out loud and sometimes I would even say "period, space, space..."  I did this, three, four, five times and then would check to make sure I had everything in my letter that the agency's website asked for, crossing off the criteria from my notebook over and over again, until I couldn't even read it anymore.  I even checked my own name... and the spelling of it twenty times or so, you know I have only been writing it since the first grade... one can never be to careful.  I checked for 3 hours and then finally at 2 a.m. I took one last deep breath, said "Oh my god, I'm really doing this," and then I did it.  I felt so excited and proud and nervous and of course I fully expected to hear later that day, when the agent's office in California opened up, that I have a bestseller on my hands...
To Be Continued...


Fabulous Resources:
www.agentquery.com
www.querytracker.net
www.queryshark.blogspot.com
www.caseylmccormick.blogspot.com   Literary Rambles  Spotlighting Children's Book Authors, Agents, and Publishing

The Inspiration

When I was a teenager I bought three beautiful posters, photographs of nature scenes.  I loved these pictures.  I visited the store on several occasions to leaf through all of the pictures that they had.  I chose very carefully and was so excited to finally get them home and on my wall where they always made me happy.  They were tranquility, peace, and beauty.  One was a stunning picture of a waterfall in autumn. Taken from the bottom of the waterfall, large rocks were carpeted with leaves that burned crisp autumn colors, as the water splashed and swirled around them.  The water appeared soft and cloudy, it was surreal and heavenly.  The second picture was an image of a pond; a pink sky and wild meadow were reflected in it.  There was tall grass and wildflowers that grew from the pond in the foreground of the picture.  The third photograph was a forest of tall trees brimming with fall colors enticing one to spend a quiet afternoon studying each leaf and hue.  The names of these spectacular places were written in small print in the corner beneath the photos, but I never actually took the time to read them.  Years later I moved to Cleveland and about a year after that I realized that one of the pictures, the autumnal waterfall, was taken near Cleveland in Cuyahoga Valley National Park.  It was a picture of Blue Hen Falls, and I thought to myself, "hmm, I should go there someday, that's pretty cool."  A few years after that, I got an amazing opportunity to spend a summer in Denali National Park, Alaska and I soon realized that the photo of the pond was that of Reflection Pond, deep within the park. What I didn't realize was that there was something missing from the picture that graced my wall at home.  Hidden behind the clouds, that lay on top of the meadow, was a majestic mountain: Mt. McKinley, otherwise known as Denali, "The Great One".  The mountain is the highest in North America at 20,320 feet... it is something to behold.  I still hadn't visited the waterfall in Cleveland, but here I had one chance to see the spot where this serene picture had been taken, and even more perhaps, see the mountain that had been covered up in my picture at home.  I wasn't going to miss it.  I would visit the waterfall when I returned.  About a week after moving to Alaska I had a dream that the whole summer was over and I hadn't done a thing.  Well I did not let that dream come true.  I did things.  I saw plenty.  And it was all amazing.  I rode on a helicopter over Denali, a massive white, blowing, giant; spotted with colored tents that were filled with courageous hikers living their dreams.  I climbed mountains, not Denali... but not an ant hill either.  I breathed in the glory of reaching the top of Mt. Healy, the 5,417 foot mountain that I was privledged enough to see every day outside my window when I woke up.  I was 10 terrifying and  unforgettable feet away from a black bear.  As tempting as it is to indulge on this story a bit... he didn't even know i was there... thank god.  I saw the heaven sent Northern Lights dance through the sky.  I ran through the quiet  park at 11 pm as the sun started to dissapear for the evening in late summer.  I enjoyed as much as I could possibly enjoy and then 2 weeks before I left I spent an evening camping in the shadows of the glorious mountain, Denali.  I went with two friends to the Wonder Lake campground, an eleven hour round trip bus ride, going maybe 25 mph.  This is as close as you can get to Mt. McKinley via the park road, and its also within walking distance to Reflection Pond.  It was crystal clear, not one cloud covered the quieting sight.  It was early September and the nights were cold, but I walked from the campground to Reflection Pond in the early evening.  It was breathtaking, awesome, and spiritual.  There she was, standing as I'm sure she has been standing since the beginning of time.  Looking over the earth, giving people a chance to peek at heaven... and she was reflected perfectly in the pond.  I stayed there until it was dark just looking at her, afraid to leave, afraid that I would regret not staying longer, but eventually I returned to the campground, freezing and hungry.  I ate, washed up in icy cold water and then snuggled in a sleeping bag and lay under the stars holding onto the moment for as long as I could.  When I returned to Cleveland I knew I had to go to Blue Hen Falls.  The following spring I planned a fun weekend for my then boyfriend, now husband, Don.  We saw a Baltimore Orioles vs. Cleveland Indians Game at Jacobs field.  Don rooted for the I's, I rooted for the O's, hon.  The next day we took the train into Cuyahoga Valley National Park and stopped in Boston.  My mission was to take a hike and stop for a picnic by the falls.  We started out, map in tow and walked for a while... we started to get nervous about how much further we had to go.  We had to get back by a certain time to take the train back, so we decide to turn around before we made it to the falls and find it another day.  The next time we went on the "find the falls" journey we had our son, Gabe, with us.  He was one and a half and we had him in the baby jogger ready to take a hike.  We started up the hill towards our destination, and as we turned and swerved and moved about roots and branches and had to do most of it with the stroller tipped to one side... inches away from sliding down a hillside we stopped.  Don, I could tell was ready to stop a while ago, but I am a bit on the stubborn side.  I enjoy planning out the "perfect day" scenario in my head: Mom, Dad, Baby, all happily hiking to beautiful destination.  Laughing, picnicking, taking in the view.  We could be on the cover of an adventurer's magazine, although we would all need much more trendy cool hiker's apparel.  Anyway I tend to start thinking that I messed up the day if we don't end up with the perfect memory... but none the less, we both agreed that it was stupid to attempt to do the hike with a baby stroller and we headed off on a different direction.  Real Quick: the day went like this:  walk, walk, enjoy picnic...me, "oh look, (referring to map), if we go this way we can get to Brandywine Falls, that's supposed to be pretty."  Poor husband, "ok."  Three hours of walking with a restless toddler later we finally got to Brandywine Falls.  After enjoying the falls for a few minutes our minds wandered to "how long is it going to take to get back?"  I thought I saw a shortcut on the map to get us easily back to our car.  We had a little bit of food left and a sip of water and the only thing around was a bed and breakfast. Well they have to have water I thought.  Armed with a twenty dollar bill, I went up to the door and knocked.  I didn't want them to think I was a freeloader.  A man answered, I asked if I could buy a water, he said he was only a guest... a moment later my doctor poked her head around the corner.  She and her husband happened to be staying there that weekend... what are the chances?  Anyway, she filled our water bottles up for us and offered a ride... I said... "oh we should be fine."  I don't think Don agreed.  Twenty minutes later, after I realized the shortcut I saw was the interstate highway which we would have had to jump down to from thirty feet above, and after several bikers told us we were a long way from where we wanted to be, our knights in shining armor: my doctor and her husband pulled up in their car, rolled down the window and said, "sure you don't want that ride?"  One of the bikers said, "I'd go if I were you."  So we did.  I held Gabe tight in my lap and figured there had to be times that people just didn't worry about a car seat.  This was surely one of those times.  We took a lovely and LONG drive back to our car and could not have been more grateful for the ride.  We would have been walking FOREVER!!!!!!!!!  I think if we had walked we would have ended up divorced, and Gabe may have eaten us before we got back to the car, so I'm really glad it worked out the way it did.  We will never forget that day... it may have been forgetable if it was just a boring old magazine cover.  Our third excursion to find the falls was earlier this summer.  I studied the map this time even more carefully and realized... umm, there is a parking lot across from a trail head that leads right to the falls, only a few minutes walk away.  I felt a little stupid, but it was kind of funny.  So we sunscreened up, took our snacks and our two year old and went to FINALLY see Blue Hen Falls.  It was a lovely walk complete with all the fun hiking obstacles.  A tree down that we had to climb over, some rocky and twig covered dirt and of course a small bridge that stretched over a shimmering stream.  It was here that I was inspired to write a children's book.  As we threw rocks into the stream, we wondered what those rocks will see in their lifetime.  "Ohhhh, what a cool idea for a kid's book!"  I told my husband.  We walked on and saw the falls, and I felt as if I had finally made it to some sort of finish line.  I took plenty of pictures which I LOVE to do, and my husband so patiently waited for me to feel content that I got every angle and artistic shot imaginable.  The falls were beautiful, but my mind was onto something else.  I couldn't stop thinking of that idea.  Now, I have had ideas before, and sometimes I have started to write them down, but never have I done what I did when we left the park.  I wrote immediately.  In the car on the way to get ice cream.  I kept writing while I waited with our sleeping babe in the backseat and Don went to get the homemade creamy dream for himself and a rootbeer for me.  (I was a full on vegan at that moment.)  I wrote on the way home.  I did get distracted over the following month, but during our end of July trip to Rhode Island I got inspired again.  Standing on an empty beach in a misty rainstorm looking out at the water, a lighthouse's light going round and round in the distance; I finished the book in my head.  Then I finished it on paper during our drive home to Cleveland.  It felt so good to have something finished.  So many times in my life I have started something and not seen it through and I vowed this time it would be different.  And it has been.  A week later I googled: how do you publish a book? and a whole new world has been opened up to me.  I'll get to all that later, but for now I really do wonder if everything happens for a reason... if I hadn't bought those exact three pictures half a lifetime ago would I be where I am right now, trying to get my first book published?  By the way I still need to visit the White Mountains in New Hampshire where the third photo was taken.  I wonder what adventure is in store for me there when I finally make that trip!

Sleepy Love

After my last post which was late last night or very early this morning, however you want to look at it... I went to bed all smiles and content.  An hour later, Gabe was up, which he does a lot and usually falls right back to sleep after coming into our room and getting sandwiched between Don and me.  But for the second night in a row and the fourth or fifth time in the past two weeks- he didn't fall back to sleep until almost 6 am!!!!!!!!  AHHHHHHHHHH, I feel like I have a newborn again and try to keep myself from counting the hours, or lack of hours I will be sleeping.  I have been falling in and out of sleep while he talks, tells me he wants an apple, or a movie, or picks at my shoulder... one of his habits.  I kept reminding myself of the beautiful sigh the night before, and feeling so guilty that I was so irritable.  Around 3 this afternoon I felt like a zombie and Don brought me a coffee, THANK YOU!  I stood in my kitchen, toys strewn about... dishes piled up... veggies on the counter to be cut for dinner... and I just whined.  I wanted to cry, but I was too tired.  I didn't know where to start.  Finally Don and I got the kitchen clean, dinner made and we didn't trip over the fire engines and dinosaurs and break an arm while doing it.  Days like today make me wonder how people with more on their plate do it.  I only have one child... sometimes I think he counts for 2 or 3... but still, only one.  How the heck did my great grandmothers all raise 8, 9, 10 kids?  And no Sesame Street to give them a break... and they had to use outhouses!!!  Pleeeaaaasssse baby... sleep all night long tonight.

Sweet Love

It's the simple things that have me falling deeper and deeper in love with my little boy.  Like when he was all curled up, with his tooshy in the air and his shirt was creeping up his back enough so that the small of his back was exposed, and i kissed his soft back, and he laughed a brief, quiet, sweet little laugh.  Like when I told him you shouldn't use an umbrella when it's lightening and he said, "you get fried," and I said with a laugh, "yeah," and he said with such innocence and sadness... "then I not have a mama!"  Like when he wraps his whole body around me and holds on so tight and I know there are only a handful of years left for that kind of devotion, and I have to hold on as long as possible.  Like just now, when I checked on him before going to bed and he let out a precious, perfect sigh... the sigh's that only a baby can make... the one's that melt your heart.  Yep, that is the best tumble I will ever take in life... falling for my boy.

Sailing the high seas and into the crib

I started to read "Robinson Crusoe" to Gabe tonight, the Classic Starts version.  He's digging it, and so am I.  We almost made it to Chapter 4 before he drifted off.  This is my new idea (in a long list of many) to make bedtime a little easier.  We've been reading picture books to him before bed since the day we brought him home from the hospital, starting with "Goodnight Moon"; but lately he needs something else to help him fall asleep.  I think we may try Harry Potter next.  Plus I get to read a good book too, so everyone's happy!!

The only question he had so far was "what is punch?"  Robinson "lost all [his] fears in a cup of punch and a rowdy good time."  Well punch is... kool aid of course.