Preparing for Nanowrimo

Three days until Nanowrimo begins! And how best to utilize these days?

1.)  I'm going to send off all the query letters waiting on my spreadsheet, so they can't distract me with "needing to be done".

2.) I'm going to work on an outline for the current WIP instead of meeting the daily word count. (You know what optimism is? Writing the second book in a detective series, before the first one finds a home. :D ) I tend to be a seat of the pants writer, and this leads to large periods of not-writing while I try to figure out where I want to go next.

3.) I am going to set a list of priorities, and figure out a rough daily schedule. If I know that I will be doing the dishes at 4 p.m., I won't get up from writing at 10:30 to go do them.  Also, if I decide to go rake leaves instead of writing, I'll check the priority chart. Lawn care should not trump my writing. I'm going to write this list down and post it prominently, so I can remind myself I am in "writing time", and things try to distract my flaky brain. November is going to be my month to try and work on my writing routine and best practices.

What strategies do you have for making your writing time productive?

Happy St. Crispin's Day!

"If we are mark’d to die, we are enow 
To do our country loss; and if to live, 
The fewer men, the greater share of honour. 
God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more. 
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold, 
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; 
It yearns me not if men my garments wear; 
Such outward things dwell not in my desires. 
But if it be a sin to covet honour, 
I am the most offending soul alive. 
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England. 
God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honour 
As one man more methinks would share from me 
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more! 
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host, 
That he which hath no stomach to this fight, Let him depart; 
his passport shall be made, And crowns for convoy put into his purse; 
We would not die in that man’s company 
That fears his fellowship to die with us. 
This day is call’d the feast of Crispian. 
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, 
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam’d, 

And rouse him at the name of Crispian. 

He that shall live this day, and see old age, 

Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, 

And say “To-morrow is Saint Crispian.” 

Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, 

And say “These wounds I had on Crispian’s day.” 

Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot, 

But he’ll remember, with advantages, What feats he did that day. 

Then shall our names, Familiar in his mouth as household words-

Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-

Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb’red.

This story shall the good man teach his son; 

And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by, 

From this day to the ending of the world, 

But we in it shall be remembered-

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; 

For he to-day that sheds his blood with me 

Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, 

This day shall gentle his condition; 

And gentlemen in England now-a-bed 

Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here, 

And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks 

That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

Come on writer-friends! We band of brothers once more into the fray of query letters and the slaughter of darlings! It is St. Crispian's Day! 

The Ten Commandments of Garage Sales

My mother took me with her to garage sales almost every Saturday for most of my childhood. I went mostly in self-defense. If I went, I could nix clothes that I didn't like, or make sure to snag new books I was interested in. I never realized that during that time that I was also receiving an education in the separate culture of garage sale mavens.

1. Thou shalt not hold a garage sale, planning to make money.

If you think of a garage sale as an opportunity to make money, you'll price your second-hand schmutter too high. If there's one thing guaranteed to offend all garage sale patrons, from the casual once-a-year saunterer to the weekly devotee, it's walking into a garage sale and finding things priced too high. The purpose of a garage sale is to get everything you want to get rid of out of the house, and get other people to help you haul it off in exchange for a pittance. Not making money.  If you want to make money, then work ebay and craigslist. Yes, I know it's a hella more trouble. But that's how it works.

2. Open Early.

The weekly devotees all get up at 5 a.m. and decide which garage sales they're going to and in what order over their morning coffee. If you open at 7 a.m., you've got a better chance of them coming your sale first with all their money. By 9 a.m. all garage sales are open, and the competition is fierce.

3. Advertise the Unique

*Every* garage sale has clothes, books, and toys. Every single one. Do not lead off your advertisement with those items. Anything unusual you have, like specific types of furniture, musical instruments and equipment, collectible items like Hummel figurines, power tools, etc. are much better to mention in your ads.

4. Advertise Widely 

Put advertisements on your local craigslist, check the local newspapers for online advertisement options (Usually free), if there's a local radio station that discusses yard sales or estate sales, put in a call. If you're in a rural area with only newspaper options, take out a cheap ad. Don't assume they'll drive by your house by accident.  Put your address and the time you want to start.

5. Make Directional signs that are legible from 10+ feet away.

Put out LARGE signs saying YARD SALE, with arrows, the date, and your address if you can fit them all in without sacrificing size. Nothing makes my mother more furious than having to stop in the middle of the road to try and squint at a sign the size of a manila envelope with tiny writing of hollow bubble letters. It's not only dangerous for traffic, but if you failed to advertise your sale, people won't know where to go, and will get frustrated and angry. Also, the Date is really important, because if they didn't see any advertisements for your sale, they may assume that the sign is old and out of date. Again, not what you want.

6. Embrace the Haggle.

People will make offers. They will usually look at your price tag, and offer half to a third of what you wrote. If its not a hot item like the unique things listed above, take the offer. Chances of another buyer coming along and wanting that same pair of lime green Bermuda shorts aren't good, and you'll be left with a lot of crap all over your moral high ground.

7. Set an End Time as well, to tempt the Sweepers.

Some professional garage salers - yes, they exist - will plan to hit large sales at the end of sale in order to try and scoop things they're interested in at ridiculously cheap prices. Telling them when the sale ends means they can plan to come hit your sale at the end. They may or may not, but setting an end time gives them the option.

8. Have Change.

This seems fairly self-evident, but if you price anything for a dime, you'd better have nickels and dimes for the quarters you're going to get. Have plenty of ones and fives. You'll be handed twenties for something that costs a quarter, especially if you open early, and people need to break change. If you don't have change, they won't buy your stuff.

9. Do not Stare at your Customers with the Beady-Eyed "Don't ya dare steal my stuff!" face.

This one always irritates me when I go to garage sales. If you're that protective of it, you can damn well keep it. And if you think that people can't tell that you're concerned about them swiping stuff, you are incorrect. If you need extra sugar in your coffee to smile at people, then load it up. You're getting rid of it, remember? It's worthless to you. See Rule number one.

10. Hold your sale in the open, with easy access to all the items.

Lately I've been seeing a lot of sales being held in someone's apartment. Frankly, that creeps me right the hell out. I do not want to step inside a stranger's home. One, it's weird. Two, I feel trapped, and I may not want your crap. Also, if you hold it in your backyard, please don't make me walk through knee-high grass to a dark, badly-lit shed. Put stuff out on tables so it can be easily seen. Stuff on the ground means I have to kneel down to look at it. If I have bad knees or a bad back, I may skip the trouble.

Guess what I did last weekend!  Made $80 and got lots of room in my shed/spare bedroom now!

Amazing case of avoidable Waffle-foot...

Waffle-foot - the condition caused by repeatedly shooting oneself in the foot.

So, I'm catching up on my blog-reading, having been crazystupidbusy the last few days with a sick daughter and husband birthday celebration.

I finally get around to reading parts 2 and 3 of the GUTGAA Agent interview.

Oh hey, there's one of the agents who requested a partial.  What'd she say about pet peeves?

... Oh God.

She hates when you mention things from her agent profile in your email.  And if I'd read her interview question before I send off the thingies, I'd have known that.  I can't help but think she's going to read the email I sent (mentioning a mutual love of the authors she mentions in her profile), and immediately trash the query, because it's reasonable to think I'd seen her response, and then ignored her preferences.

I thought I was showing that I'd tried to do my research and was happy to find some common ground to address the letter, since I couldn't put my query letter in there.

*sigh*

Dammit. Maybe she'll just download the attachments and not read the email. Right? ...

Crapperdoodles.

Keep calm and carry on...

So I made it to the Agent Pitch final of the GUTGAA Agent Pitch contest!  Much rejoicing! Celebrate!

Cue twitchy clicking of the link on Deana's blog every twenty minutes all day Sunday and Monday. Nothing.

Add in a relaxation pep-talk after each failed click. Determine that Tuesday I will NOT check the blog all day because I am making myself nuts, and my 15 month old does not approve of Mommy huddling over her computer instead of playing ball and Legos.  I have things to do! A husband's birthday to prepare for! A baby to nurture and play with!

So I go forth to the thrift store! To the grocery store! Productivity! No desperate clicking! Ha ha! I am a real human being! I use exclamation points and everything!

And I get a text message from my husband to tell me that an agent commented! They want to see a partial!

.... I am wrist deep in raw gyoza filling. I can't stop what I'm doing to go and sit down to send off the files. I've got to finish dinner, then feed the daughter, (Because throwing her into a box of goldfish crackers is apparently considered "lazy parenting" instead of a lesson in survival skills.), then bath the daughter, then read her a book, and put her to bed. Establishing a bedtime routine for daughter is vital to my sanity, which dreams of a day when sleep deprivation is something that happens to other people.

Five hours later I finally manage to get to work on tweaking the submission materials. I've imagined every ridiculous permutation of possible outcomes, from the agent waiting impatiently, nay desperately! for my little gold brick to hit her hands so she can call me to rave over my genius, (I giggled at the thought; I couldn't even imagine it properly.) to the agent calling me after receipt to say, "Wow, you really put a shine on that godawful P.O.S. in your query letter. Not interested, and I'm letting every other agent on Twitter know that you're out there so no one else suffers the way I have! Good luck on Amazon self-publishing!" (Strangely, that one was much easier to imagine. Thank you so damn much for the support, brain.)

Having a daughter has done the one thing that I thought was impossible. I've learned to be patient. I sent it off, updated my submissions spreadsheet, set a note to check back in six weeks, and then, I went to bed.  This doesn't seem like a big deal, but for someone with OCD tendencies, it was huge. I didn't stay up all night, letting my brain froth itself into a frenzy.

I didn't sit there and check my email thirty seven times, write rhapsodic posts on facebook and my blog about how I'd FINALLY DONE IT, or call my mother at midnight, or any of the crazypants behavior I would have indulged in pre-daughter.

Of all the things I expected to happen in my life by having a child, I did not see that one coming. Hormones are weird.

If you have power, give joy

About six or so years ago, I won a competition to become the Royal Scrivener within the Kingdom of Atlantia in the SCA. There were only two people competing at the time, and you get to hold the position for a year. The idea is that you support the arts of calligraphy and illumination by sponsoring competitions, and generally being a visible artist-of-the-year. It comes with no prizes, and no "rank" or extra privilege. Or so I thought.

While I was Royal Scrivener, I made a point of seeking out artists who entered my competitions and telling them how much I liked their work, or giving advice if I could be helpful.

One day, I held a competition, and there was a stunning entry. The calligraphy was better than mine, (and my calligraphy is DAMN good), and the illumination was phenomenally better than mine. I made a point of hunting the lady down, (after I had chewed my jealous bone a bit in private), to tell her how amazing I found her work.

This lady is a better artist technically than I will EVER be.  Think I'm being modest?  Go look. Yeah. She makes my work look like the amateur efforts that they are, and always will.

I literally had NOTHING I could offer her in terms of advice, suggestions, or helpful improvements. In fact, I wanted to sit her down and ask for lessons. But I went and gave her my admiration and encouragement anyways.

She told me five years later that she was so grateful and humbled to have the ROYAL SCRIVENER come and talk to her about her work that she was giddy over it for days. That it had meant the world to her that I had come to tell her IN PERSON how amazing her work is.

That was a major lesson to me on perspective. I felt like my input to her was valueless. To her, it was priceless. She was new to the SCA, and still trying to feel out her place. She didn't know many people. To her, I was one of the established, a Kingdom Notable, someone who was in a position to "know".  She's learned better since then, but we're now good friends, and she recently made me one of my most prized possessions, a handbound book that is shaped like a heart when you open it.

I recently entered the GUTGAA Agent Pitch contest, and I saw one of the judges worrying on her blog that all she had to give was her subjective opinion, and she didn't want to crush the dreams of others. I wanted to hug her and pet her nose and tell her that she wasn't crushing dreams in absentia, she was giving joy.

In my category of 43 entries, 19 received at least one "vote" from a judge. Almost half of the entries did the happy dance of joy! The rest all got professional comments, good advice, and encouragement! There is no losing here!

If you're in a position of authority, you have the opportunity to be someone's moment of joy. Don't waste them! It's the most precious of gifts, and the true reward of working hard to get where you are.

My reworked Query Letter!

So thanks to GUTGAA, I got some great feedback on my query letter. I've spent the last couple of days reworking it to address the comments I received hopefully in time for the agent pitch polish content!

Dear Super Awesome person,

Mercy and Justice Givens, twin sisters and co-owners of the Givens Detective Agency, do not take murder cases. But the private detective business is having a dry spell, taxes are due in three days, and their bank balance is lower than a rattlesnake’s belly.  Desperate times call for bad decisions, and the twins agree to take on an impossible case, trying to prove drug-addled debutante Genevieve Simmons didn’t stab her abusive boyfriend.  

Trapped by their own insolvency, but determined to wriggle out from under the contract and return the retainer, the twins grab at a “quick” embezzling case, hoping to find out who’s robbing Peter so they can pay off Paul.

Their hopes of a fast fee are crushed when someone parks a forklift on an accounting clerk’s head and dumps the body in the back of their truck, implicating them in murder. Caught in what seem like two separate murder cases, the twins are working double-time to keep out of the body count.

The real problem is that Mercy and Justice don’t know that the embezzler isn’t the one who wants them dead. Genevieve’s been framed, and the framer's hell-bent on making sure Justice and Mercy stay out of the picture. Mercy’s genius plus Justice’s thirty-eight may not be enough to survive a Machiavellian murderer pairing up with a panicky killer.  

REMINGTONS KILL PEOPLE was selected as a finalist in Janet Reid’s Liz Norris Pay it Forward competition for debut novels, and is approximately 77,000 words in length. It is set in San Antonio, Texas and has the potential to be the first in a series featuring Mercy and Justice Givens. I am a native West Texan who likes to recreate medieval book art in pre-1600 styles, when I’m not engaging in armored combat or changing diapers. 

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Kind regards,  


My only concern is that it's a bit long. Query letters according to Janet Reid should be 250 words, and mine tops out at 319.

But what do you all think? Improved from Version 1? Worse?