Monday, March 9, 2009
Helpful Info
My agent, Holly Root, posted a very informative Q&A session with aspiring authors, giving some perspective on what is selling and how to decipher an agent's response to your project. :)
Friday, March 6, 2009
A Case For Poirot?
This article about a famous British restaurant shutting down after scores of customers suffered vomiting and diarrhea shortly after dining there caught my eye, mostly because the cause of the gastrointestinal distress remains a mystery. Britain's Health Protection Agency and the restaurant's infamous head chef--who has earned an incredible 3 Michelin stars--are baffled.
I took a look at a list of popular items served up by the chef and I believe I may have our first clue:
*Bacon & Egg ice cream
*Parsnip cereal
*Raspberry Sorbet made with crushed raspberries and dry ice
*Deep fried meal worms (injected with tomato paste because, of course, that makes the whole experience palatable)
*Nitro green tea
And, my personal pick for the likely cause:
*Snail porridge
As this is arguably one of Britain's most popular fine dining restaurants (reservations need to be made months in advance), I think perhaps the real mystery is why none of them have yet realized that garden pests do not make acceptable breakfast food.
I took a look at a list of popular items served up by the chef and I believe I may have our first clue:
*Bacon & Egg ice cream
*Parsnip cereal
*Raspberry Sorbet made with crushed raspberries and dry ice
*Deep fried meal worms (injected with tomato paste because, of course, that makes the whole experience palatable)
*Nitro green tea
And, my personal pick for the likely cause:
*Snail porridge
As this is arguably one of Britain's most popular fine dining restaurants (reservations need to be made months in advance), I think perhaps the real mystery is why none of them have yet realized that garden pests do not make acceptable breakfast food.
Insert Clever Title Here
1. I now have kittens piling onto my desk each morning, sprawling across my keyboard, and chewing on various body parts when the mood strikes.
2. Tinks tried chewing on my nearest body part a few days ago and we came to an understanding.
3. She doesn't bite The Girls and I don't lock her out of the office.
4. Of course, my idea of "we have an understanding" could just be her idea of "biding her time."
5. Lost rocks this season.
6. The boys are all well enough to go to school today, which means I have uninterrupted time to write.
7. I need to revise the last few chapters, tie up some loose ends, and then run it through a couple CPs before sending it off to my agent.
8. Yes, I'm finally getting used to saying "my agent." :)
9. I saw part of a show recently where a family kept some unusual pets--including a cockroach farm. Inside their house.
10. A. Cockroach. Farm.
11. COCKROACH
12. They claim the cockroaches make excellent pets.
13. I think that qualifies them as lunatics.
14. Reader Question: What's the most unusual pet you've ever owned?
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Linkage
I've come across a few items of interest to the writing community lately and decided to post some links for those of you who might be interested.
First, here's an excellent post on how to analyze contest results and use them to your advantage, written by fellow Pixie (Golden Heart Finalist) and amazing writer Anne Barton.
Next, a member of my local RWA chapter learned of a new romance magazine currently accepting submissions of short stories for publication. I don't know anything about the magazine itself, so do your research and see if this might be an avenue of publication for you.
Finally, Writer's Digest (If you don't buy their yearly Writer's Market to stay current on who's buying and where/how to submit, you should.) is holding their annual writing contest. Deadline is coming up in May.
First, here's an excellent post on how to analyze contest results and use them to your advantage, written by fellow Pixie (Golden Heart Finalist) and amazing writer Anne Barton.
Next, a member of my local RWA chapter learned of a new romance magazine currently accepting submissions of short stories for publication. I don't know anything about the magazine itself, so do your research and see if this might be an avenue of publication for you.
Finally, Writer's Digest (If you don't buy their yearly Writer's Market to stay current on who's buying and where/how to submit, you should.) is holding their annual writing contest. Deadline is coming up in May.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Flushed Away
Enjoy the laugh, provided by humorist Dave Barry.
THE COLONOSCOPY
by Dave Barry
I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy.
A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis. Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner.
I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, "HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!"
I left Andy's office with some written instructions and a prescription for a product called 'MoviPrep,' which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America's enemies.
I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous. Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation.
In accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor. Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, and then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32 gallons.) Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes - and here I am being kind - like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.
The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, 'a loose, watery bowel movement may result.' This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground.
MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here, but: Have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your
bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.
After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep. The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, 'What if I spurt on Andy?' How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.
At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked.
Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep. At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this is, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would have no choice but to burn your house.
When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point.
Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand. There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was 'Dancing Queen' by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' had to be the least appropriate.
"You want me to turn it up?" said Andy, from somewhere behind me. 'Ha ha,' I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.
I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling 'Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,' and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood. Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that it was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.
*Thanks to Mom for the email.*
THE COLONOSCOPY
by Dave Barry
I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy.
A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis. Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner.
I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, "HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!"
I left Andy's office with some written instructions and a prescription for a product called 'MoviPrep,' which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America's enemies.
I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous. Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation.
In accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor. Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, and then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32 gallons.) Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes - and here I am being kind - like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.
The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, 'a loose, watery bowel movement may result.' This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground.
MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here, but: Have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your
bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.
After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep. The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, 'What if I spurt on Andy?' How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.
At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked.
Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep. At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this is, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would have no choice but to burn your house.
When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point.
Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand. There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was 'Dancing Queen' by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' had to be the least appropriate.
"You want me to turn it up?" said Andy, from somewhere behind me. 'Ha ha,' I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.
I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling 'Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,' and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood. Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that it was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.
*Thanks to Mom for the email.*
Take That, Father Time!
Victoria's Secret has invented a bra that claims to reverse the signs of aging and make The Girls younger.
My question is, why didn't they take that technology one step further and make underwear to match?
*Thanks to Kerry Allen for the link.*
My question is, why didn't they take that technology one step further and make underwear to match?
*Thanks to Kerry Allen for the link.*
Monday, March 2, 2009
Got Pants?
If you've ever reached the middle of your manuscript before figuring out what your book was really about, you might be a Pantser.
If you start a scene thinking it's going in Direction A, only to be totally derailed by the actions of your MC who suddenly decides to go in Direction B, you might be a Pantser.
If your characters ever catch you by surprise, you might be a Pantser.
If the thought of outlining your novel before you write it gives you hives, you might be a Pantser.
If you start a 95k word novel with the vague premise that your MC is going to start in Location A, run into some pretty big Nameless Trouble, and eventually arrive in Location B with her lessons learned, you might be a Pantser.
If part of the excitement of writing is figuring out the story as you go, you might be a Pantser.
If your initial synopsis is filled with phrases like "Something BAD happens here followed by something WORSE" and "Hero somehow saves the day," you might be a Pantser.
If your idea of research is to do a quick Google while you're already in the middle of a scene, you might be a Pantser.
If the idea of creating a series bible that covers the next seven books sends you running for the nearest fifty pounds of chocolate, you might be a Pantser.
If you're unable to answer the question "Where did you come up with this?" with any degree of coherency, you might be a Pantser.
If you throw two characters into a situation just to see what happens, you might be a Pantser.
If you are delightfully surprised to find you've unconsciously set up a pretty cool plot twist waaaay before you realized that plot twist existed, you might be a Pantser.
If you read this list and agreed with three or more items on it, you might be a Pantser!
If you start a scene thinking it's going in Direction A, only to be totally derailed by the actions of your MC who suddenly decides to go in Direction B, you might be a Pantser.
If your characters ever catch you by surprise, you might be a Pantser.
If the thought of outlining your novel before you write it gives you hives, you might be a Pantser.
If you start a 95k word novel with the vague premise that your MC is going to start in Location A, run into some pretty big Nameless Trouble, and eventually arrive in Location B with her lessons learned, you might be a Pantser.
If part of the excitement of writing is figuring out the story as you go, you might be a Pantser.
If your initial synopsis is filled with phrases like "Something BAD happens here followed by something WORSE" and "Hero somehow saves the day," you might be a Pantser.
If your idea of research is to do a quick Google while you're already in the middle of a scene, you might be a Pantser.
If the idea of creating a series bible that covers the next seven books sends you running for the nearest fifty pounds of chocolate, you might be a Pantser.
If you're unable to answer the question "Where did you come up with this?" with any degree of coherency, you might be a Pantser.
If you throw two characters into a situation just to see what happens, you might be a Pantser.
If you are delightfully surprised to find you've unconsciously set up a pretty cool plot twist waaaay before you realized that plot twist existed, you might be a Pantser.
If you read this list and agreed with three or more items on it, you might be a Pantser!
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