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Another Contest? But Wait, This One’s Weird!

If you’re anything like me, you probably find it easier to rave about your critique partners’ work than your own. Maybe even easier to pitch theirs than ours. To explain how that skill could come in handy, we interrupt our regularly scheduled blog posts for a message from Mindy McGinnis.

I know what you’re thinking.

Another contest? Seriously? But I absolutely despise all these chances to expose my work to agents!

Well, don’t worry. Because I’m me, when I decided to do a contest I knew I had to make it Mindy-Style, which means it had to be different from everyone else and slightly offensive. I wracked my brain about how to do this, as there are a plethora of writing contests out there. And I came up with something that I think fulfills the Mindy-Style requirements.

Introducing the Pitch-A-Partner Festival! Yes, that’s right, it’s the PAPfest. Coming at you during the month of February 2013. Why February? Well, because you want to show your partner you love them, and also because I have a badly timed reoccurring annual exam that makes me think February = PAPfest.

When it comes to my writing I value my Critique Partners above all else. My CPs deserve a lot of credit for helping to improve my craft, and I’m sure there are a lot of aspiring authors out there who feel the same. So what better way to show them you love them than to pitch their project? Don’t worry, there’s something in it for both of you.

I dragged my CPs, MarcyKate Connolly and R.C. Lewis, into the PAPfest as co-hosts, because it’s only fitting. In our model, writers will pitch their critique partner’s project, and our team will decide whose pitching abilities are so strong that we’re interested in seeing their own project. And of course, if the premise of the partner’s project is so enticing that we can’t help ourselves, we’re free to request material from them as well.

The blogging team will narrow the final hopefuls down to 30 entries, at which point we’ll ask our participating agents to cruise our blogs to bid on projects that catch their eye. We’ve got an excellent team of agents lined up, both established and brand-new hungry types.

Are you confused? That’s OK. We’re planning on walking you through the process as February gets closer. All kinds of fun things are in store to clarify all your questions. I mean that. I intend to amuse the hell out of you while explaining this contest.

Why am I telling you this now? Because I want you to stress over the holidays.

Not really. I’m telling you this now because it’s important that you have your CP’s permission to pitch their project—they’ll be getting a query crit out of the deal (and possibly a request for more if we’re hooked by their concept, pitched by you). And of course in order for you to pitch something in the first place, you need to have read it. So polish off your WIPs or breathe new life into a trunked novel and get that ms in front of your CP!

Stay tuned to Writer, Writer, Pants on Fire for more details! And feel free to ask questions, always. Comment on one of the participating blogs, email Mindy, or tweet using the tag #PAPfest.

And yes, I’d love to see that trending. 🙂

Speak up:

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Being Simple Doesn’t Mean It’s Easy

Someone recently asked what it was that made my agent pluck me out of the slush and offer to represent me (beyond the obvious awesomeness—his words, not mine). I ventured that it was my high-concept hook that grabbed her attention, and then having a manuscript that lived up to the promise of the query. All it takes is an awesome, agent-baiting query and a manuscript that backs it up.

My agent happened to be present (thus the question), and while she agreed, she also laughed and said, “OH IS THAT ALL?”

Yes, if only it were as easily done as said. I certainly went through plenty of “Nope, not quite the right formulation” with prior novels.

But then I thought about it. Getting an agent obviously isn’t easy. But it is simple.

Do you see the distinction?

It’s like the game Operation. The directions aren’t complicated. Get the tweezers in the opening, grab the little plastic piece, and pull it out without touching the edge of the hole. It’s simple.

Does that make it easy? Not if you have unsteady hands like I do. It takes deftness and just the right touch. It’s hard—some pieces harder than others, and some people struggle with it more than their friends.

Some may develop the skills quickly. Others may never be able to grab some of the pieces. The difficulty varies, but the simplicity of the process is the same for all.

I think sometimes we get frustrated in the query trenches by trying to unravel a magic formula, some secret complexity that only agented writers know about. Start with the title, genre and word count. No, those go at the end. Never use this phrase. Always close with that one.

Certain “rules” are handy for not giving agents headaches, but really, we don’t need to expend energy worrying about that kind of stuff. It’s simpler than that. Get the agent’s attention so they’re dying to read more. Once they start reading, make them fall in love.

It’s also really hard. It takes work and research and even some luck.

If something’s worth doing, it’s worth working for.

What else in life have you found is simple, but not easy? How do you keep yourself motivated when the “hard” makes you feel like it’s more complicated than it is?

ETA: It seems some felt this post was condescending, with me talking from my high post of now being agented and deigning to tell you all “how it’s done.”

I am truly sorry if it came across that way. It was not my intention. Those of you who are regulars on AQC know that I get asked for advice on querying all the time. Even before I was agented, but especially now. I am NOT AN EXPERT. Never have been. Yet I get asked. So I do my best to come up with advice that’s universal enough, that’s encouraging while still being realistic about how FREAKING HARD it is.

My only point in this post was to say, don’t focus on the wrong stuff. Don’t freak out over the minutiae. Remember the goal—the simple, but not easy goal—of getting the agent to read more, and then having the super-shiniest manuscript you’re capable of to hand over.

Will the best you’re capable always be enough? No. That’s realistic. My best didn’t get it done for years. I learned, I grew, I kept at it, I got lucky with some timing, and it happened. It can for you, too. I can’t say it WILL happen for all of you. I won’t lie.

But it certainly won’t if you quit trying.

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Gauging the Awesome

I’ve been hearing it for a while. Want to get an agent? The most important piece of the puzzle is to be awesome. Write an awesome query to get an agent’s attention, and make sure you’re ready to back it up with an awesome manuscript.

Okay, but how do you know when you’ve arrived at “awesome”?

It’s not easy. The first thing I had to accept was that I might be wrong. I wouldn’t really know. The best I could do was have a really strong belief. I also tried to keep my mind open to a need to increase the awesome.

There’s a line between “If I don’t believe in my work, why should anyone else?” and “I’ve written the most amazing novel ever and how dare anyone say I change a single thing?” It’s a thin line, and crossing to the wrong side isn’t pretty. Keeping my self-assessments honest can be a battle between my perfectionism and occasional surges of ego.

It doesn’t help when there are plenty of outside-our-control reasons for agents not to nibble. Our timing may be off trend-wise. Maybe we’re hitting agents who just signed something too similar.

Maybe the work just isn’t awesome enough (yet).

That doesn’t mean it isn’t awesome at all. Maybe it’s pretty-darn awesome, just not holy-whoa awesome.

I thought my earlier manuscripts were awesome enough. In fact, I still think there’s a lot of awesome in them. At the same time, there’s something great about retrospect. When I look back over my querying experiences, there was something different this last round—the round that resulted in signing with my agent. A different gut-feeling when I said to myself, “This bird is ready to fly.”

Thing is, I can only recognize that from here. At the time, all I could do was hope.

And keep working.

Because no amount of awesome is ever really enough, right?

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Levels of Response in the Publishing Game

As I wade through the waters of Trying to Get Published, I find there are a lot of things the general public doesn’t know about the process. Since most of us start out in the general public before moving into Wannabe-Writer-Ville, we come into the process as clueless newbies.

The first thing we learn about is the query letter. That’s a tricky beast all in itself and deserves weeks of study. But with the magic of the internet (and cool sites like AgentQuery Connect), we get up to speed on how and why, and work out a query letter that’s considered ready to go.

We carefully read submission guidelines, send out a batch or two of queries, and we wait.

As a newbie, we may not know how many possible responses there are. Let’s break it down.

SILENCE
First, has it only been ten minutes? If so, chill out. (If the agent promises an auto-response to confirm receipt, check your spam folder, wait a little longer, then try again.) If it’s been a few weeks/months, there are questions to answer. Does the agent have a stated “no response means no” policy? If yes, move on. If no, and there was no auto-response, do a little digging to determine whether the agent typically responds and how long it usually takes. (QueryTracker is a great resource for this.) If it’s been unreasonably long, and the agent always responds to queries, might be worth resending.

FORM REJECTION
This can vary from a super-brief “Not for me, but thanks,” to a very politely worded paragraph that means the same thing. Don’t agonize over every syllable. Just move on.

PERSONALIZED REJECTION (on query)
This is pretty rare, but occasionally happens. Sometimes it’ll look personalized, but a little research shows it’s a form. If you really do get a personalized reply, glean what you can from it, but again—don’t agonize. Move on.

PARTIAL REQUEST
Yay, they want to read some of your manuscript! First, a partial typically means three chapters or the first fifty pages. In my experience, agents are pretty clear with what they want and how they want it. Follow their instructions. Once you send it off—don’t agonize. Your query seems to work, so send off a few more to celebrate.

FULL REQUEST
Yay, they want to (potentially) read the whole thing! Some agents go straight from the query to this point, skipping the partial in-between. Same advice goes—send as instructed, don’t agonize, and send off some more queries.

SILENCE (on requested material)
Ugh. Hold on! Has it only been two weeks? Chill out again.

Many agents state that they respond to full manuscripts within X amount of time. Wait that length plus a few weeks (or an extra month), then try a politely worded nudge. Sometimes you get an apologetic note that things got crazy and you’re next on the list, or there’s been a technical problem and could you please resend … and sometimes you get more silence.

FORM REJECTION (on requested material)
Ouch. This sucks, because you often can’t even tell how far they read. This is where I most often see the “I just didn’t love it enough” wording. Frustrating, because it doesn’t really give you something to act on, other than trying to find the agent who is going to love it enough. Check with beta-readers and critique partners to see if they have ideas about making it more “loveable” but … don’t agonize. Send more queries and get back to work on your WIP (you do have one, don’t you?).

BRIEF REJECTION (on requested material)
A little better than the form, and may give you a touch of direction on revisions. If the feedback resonates, act on it. But don’t agonize. Get back to work.

DETAILED REJECTION
This can hurt the most but be the most valuable … maybe. The agent cared enough to type up 3-5 paragraphs on what they liked and didn’t like, but ultimately, they don’t want this story. Often this type of rejection includes a statement like, “Please keep me in mind for any future projects.” Make a note of that. If this story doesn’t pan out and your WIP gets to querying stage, I highly recommend starting your new query letter to these agents with: “In (month and year), you were kind enough to read the full manuscript for (insert title).”

A rejection like this warrants a little agonizing. You need to look over their feedback carefully. Let it sit for a day or two until the sting is gone, then read it again. What resonates? What could make the story better? This may be the time to dive into some big revisions. But if the feedback doesn’t resonate at all, or contradicts what other agents have said they liked, it may be yet another occasion to move on.

REVISE AND RESUBMIT
There’s nothing relaxing about this type of R&R. This often looks a lot like the Detailed Rejection, but it’s actually a hefty step above. It generally includes the same types of feedback, but includes a clear statement from the agent that if you’re willing to revise, they’d be happy to look at it again.

Agonize. By all means, agonize.

Again, make sure the feedback resonates on some level. Come up with a game plan for addressing the agent’s “problem areas.” Take your time (but not forever) working through your manuscript. Run it through your most trusted critique partner(s) again. Polish the now-rough edges where things got cut and scraped.

Send the new version. Then stop agonizing. Send a query, write on the WIP, do something.

And finally …

CAN WE TALK?
I’ve experienced all of the above levels thus far, except this one. This is where the agent wants to talk to you in real-time, usually meaning on the phone. It may or may not end in an offer of representation. Depends on how you and the agent click, how they feel about other projects you have (old or ideas for new ones), if you both have the same vision for a working relationship and your career, etc.

If/when I get to that point, this thread (and the links within it) will be my guide, definitely.

And as I wait for that phone to ring, nothing will stop me from agonizing. I’ll keep some chocolate handy.

Did I miss any? Do you have any advice on handling the various levels of response?

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That Aristotle Guy

Oops, kind of a long stretch since the last post.  At first, there wasn’t much to say.  Then there was, but it was more of the same (four fulls and a partial out at one point = more waiting).  Finally, it was getting back to the day job, where almost everyone on campus had to relocate due to renovations.

The inspiration for today’s post comes from the day job, in fact.  We had a professional development day yesterday, most of which wouldn’t interest any of you.  During a presentation on critical thinking skills, though, came a moment of epiphany … and it wasn’t while my colleagues and I were trying to build a tower out of marshmallows and toothpicks.

Our presenter includes some quotations on a few of her slides, and one particularly caught my attention:

It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.
-Aristotle

In addition to the implications for educating my little rabblerousers, it struck me as a nice summation of my philosophy on accepting critique.  You have to be able to entertain a thought, even unpleasant ones, without (necessarily) accepting it.  Once you entertain it, you can make that decision whether it has merit you should act on or not.

This is especially applicable to me recently, as three of my four fulls came back with rejections.  One was a form rejection, so there’s nothing for me to take from it.  Another was a detailed message that felt like the agent just didn’t get it–we all view things through our own lens, and hers seems to be polarized at a right angle to mine.  The third was a brief but personal message that raised an interesting question.

It’s that last one that has me thinking the most.  Perhaps I’ll expound on it in another post.  My book doesn’t follow a certain part of the YA sci-fi/fantasy formula.  I know that, and in many ways it was my whole point.  So I’m trying to entertain the thought planted by that agent without accepting it, at the same time looking for what I can take from it.

Meanwhile, I’m forging ahead–working on Book Three, receiving good news on another front (see if you can spot it in my Twitter feed, post forthcoming), and wondering if I’m ever going to hear back from Agent #1.

Oh, and keeping up with the day job.

  

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While Waiting: Part 2

A few months ago, I posted a list of things to do while waiting on an agent.  Agent #1 still has the full, and now two more agents have it as well.  (My latest attempt at a query letter actually has legs!)  So, more waiting.  Here’s what I have gotten/am getting done, and it’s nice to see some of these are progressions from the first list.

A lot of that looks like work.  Here are some additions for the To Do list:

Hmm, all of that involves travel and interacting with humans outside of cyberspace.  That might be a clue.

Anyone else have fun ways of keeping your mind off the waiting game?

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