I haven’t been blogging, but I have been busy. So, I finished the edits on my book – Hunting Annabelle. I can’t remember if I’ve said the name of my book before. Anyway, I have the book to beta readers and am making a list of agents/editors I think would be a good match. Now I just have to figure out how to write a good query letter that will do my book justice.
Have you noticed how hard it is to reduce the work of over a year into a paragraph or two? It’s pretty tough. I want to give the feel of the book without saying too many words. Kinda hard. But I understand the need. If I was an agent or editor, I would hate receiving a million submissions of full manuscripts or just the first couple of chapters with no info on where the story goes from there.
Anywho, I also moved. So, now the husb, the pup and I all live in a house that we love. It has amazing door chimes which the pup can set off just by barking. Pretty impressive.
During my move I found my old journals from age 8 or 9 to around 15. There’s some of my old poetry and Fear Street fan fic in there. Yes. That happened. Good ol’ R.L. Stine.
I recently got involved with a critique group, which I’m really enjoying. It’s three other ladies who write in a variety of genres. I get such great diversity from them, which translates to excellent suggestions and help with my manuscript.
One thing I have learned through this process is that I don’t love criticism. But, if I swallow whatever retort I have on the tip of my tongue and give it a couple of days, usually there’s something in the comments that is super helpful. I know the criticism is given from a good place – there’s no nastiness or anything. It’s just me, wanting to be perfect the first time around.
That’s all of my rambling for now. Look forward to more soon!
Okay, when I was looking for pics of the Fear Street Saga, I remembered a story from my childhood that involves R.L. Stine’s other series: Goosebumps. Here’s the deal: My family went on vacation out by Yosemite National Park. There’s a ton of waterfalls and little wading pools out there that have huge signs that say something like: “Last year a 143 people drowned here. DON’T GO INTO THE WATERFALL IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIFE!!!!”
Long story short, I touched the water, decided it was too cold, and laid out in the sun, reading a book called A Night in Terror Tower. I was engrossed when suddenly I heard shouting. I looked up to find that my big brother had fallen into the deadly waterfall. All I could think was that my brother was going to die and I was already completely terrified because of the book. I couldn’t dredge up more adrenaline and fear for my dear not-yet departed bro.
Luckily, my brother was fished out of the pool above the waterfall in time. He got hugged and scolded and fawned over. I went back to my book. That’s the kind of callous b***h I was. I think he was kind of relieved that I didn’t freak out over his safe return to the world above water. He was irritated by the attention at the time anyway.
So, here’s the book that grabbed me so completely I had trouble feeling empathy for my brother’s plight.