Home from conference

Corey: you won yesterday's contest, which includes the book from Friday and yesterday. The books are: Out of the Dust by Karen Hesse, a novel in free verse, in honor of Poetry Friday, and The No-No Boys by Teresa Funke, the second book in the series of Home-Front Heroes. Enjoy!


Ah, Sunday, ideally a day of rest. I am home from the conference, enjoying a bit of quietness and rest. Today's quote:

"Learning to let go should be learned before learning to get. Life should be touched, not strangled. You’ve got to relax, let it happen at times, and at others move forward with it."
— Ray Bradbury

Today's contest: tell me your favorite way to unwind/de-stress/re-charge/rest, preferably something that doesn't require going to a spa.

Surprise!

My focus on writing these days is on kidlit, which is why I was so surprised to find that a regular short story won first prize in a contest! It's the Pikes Peak Writers Fiction Contest: Paul Gillette Awards. Last year, my Middle Grade novel took second place in the children's category, which gave me the confidence to get more work out there. I am sure glad I did!

As a winner this year, I get to attend the Pikes Peak Conference coming up in late April for free, and I get to pitch to an agent/editor of my choice. Nathan Bransford will be there, so will Ginger Clark and Kirby Kim. Choices, choices, choices.

Last year's PPW conference was my first one. Had an interesting session reading my first page, out loud, in public, to an editor, who didn't say anything much after my reading except that she wouldn't request it if it had been submitted to her.

Nothing like being thrown in the fire right at the beginning!

But the rest of the conference went well. I met some fabulous people and had a great time in general. It's not too late to sign up!

Hope to see you there!

Big Sur in the Rockies: a second report

Learning from the experience and wisdom of the faculty was wonderful, but that's only half the reason why the Big Sur in the Rockies Workshop was so valuable. The other half was meeting like-minded writers.

The weekend was structured around critique groups. Each attendee was assigned two groups led by two different faculty members. Each group met twice. Attendees chose what they submitted at each group meeting.

The talent and passion of these writers are amazing. From inventive premises to tender treatments of difficult subjects such as death and divorce to a touching corridos (Mexican and Southwestern US traditional ballad) to hilarious yet heart-warming poetry, I was treated to some excellent writing. And let me tell ya, you haven't lived till you hear an ancient Japanese / Jewish / African folk tale re-told in authentic cowboy.

Reading and critiquing the work, and listening to the critiques, of so many thoughtful writers taught me volumes.

And then there are my two cottage mates. Not only are they brilliant writers with a great sense of humor (and sass), they are also the most considerate, respectful sharers-of-space one could ever ask for. I am forever spoilt.

Big Sur in the Rockies: A report

The Big Sur in the Rockies writing retreat provided me with a wonderful time away from the day-to-day concerns and focus on writing. The workshop is small, with only about 50+ attendees and ten faculty members.


Here are Lyron Bennett and Lynda Sandoval, two people filled with wit, intelligence, knowledge about the publishing industry, and boundless energy. I was trying to figure out how to bottle it all weekend long.


And here I am with Laura Backes, writing teacher extraordinaire. Her superpower is way better than that of any fake super hero: she can get to the heart of any manuscript and make magic-wand type suggestions that any writer would want to immediately follow.



From l to r: Laura Backes, Linda Arms White, Marilyn Marks, Andrea Brown.


From l to r: Claudia Mills, Phyllis Perry, Hilari Bell.

The only faculty member whose picture I didn't manage to take is Paul Hindman.

I didn't get to know every one of the faculty but from listening to other attendees talk about how one or the other faculty member helped them, I can attest to the fact that every faculty has a heart for helping writers of children's literature. And God bless them for their generosity.

Post-retreat shlump

I came back from the first ever Big Sur in the Rockies writing retreat earlier this afternoon. It's great to see my family but I am in a bit of a post-retreat shlump-funk, or feeling melancholic, as my fellow-writer, Cheryl, said in a much more sophisticated way. This melancholy reminds me a lot of the feelings I used to have at the end of camps I attended as a teen.

I'll be posting more of my time at the retreat in the next few days, but right now, I think I'll go mine the emotions for my music camp novel.

(All right, call it wallow if you must, but I'm calling it part and parcel of my writing process.)

Weekends

Last weekend was filled with kid-related activities: parent-teacher conferences, a Tae Kwon Do tournament, a solo with the church children's choir. Each event brought about observations and thoughts that can fill a week's worth of blog entries, if not more.

But this weekend, I am leaving the kids with Super Dad. I'm off to a writing retreat, my first ever, at a Chautauqua site. It's the Big Sur Writing Workshop headed by Uberagent Andrea Brown. I look forward to learning from the faculty assembled as well as the attendees. I just hope my mind is focus and open enough and my skin thick enough to get the most out of the weekend.

Wish me courage!

PPW conference part 3: write what you love?

Write what you love.

If there was one theme I took away from the conference, it was this. Published authors, editors, and agents alike kept exhorting attendees to write the books that are in them regardless of trends. Yet almost as often, I heard comments about market trends such as: pirates are overdone; YA is the hottest segment of the market--except when compared to graphic novels; multicultural is still in; and dogs that slobber and pass gas are a dime a dozen. And of course, if the first page doesn't hook the reader, the 300 other pages that follow will not be read.

So which is it? To pay attention to market realities or not? What if I want to write a pirate book that features a slobbering dog that takes more than one page to set up? Should I go with "the book that is in me" or should I kill the dog, or at least its slobber, and change the pirates to Karate teachers? Or maybe I should just write a multicultural YA graphic novel with no dogs in sight.

After I got past my initial indignant responses, I realized these wise people might not have been talking out of both sides of their mouths. If an agent has read 120 pirate stories that start with a prologue about maps and hidden treasures, the 121st will make her sick.If no editor wants to buy YA set between WWII and present day (WWII and before is considered historical but not post,) then the agent is going to be wary of a YA story set in 1969. If the public clamors for more graphic novels, editors are going to perk up when one such manuscript appears on their desk. If any one us: authors, agents, editors, publishers, booksellers, want to get our book out there, we'd better pay attention to what the public wants.

On the other hand, if we keep jumping on hot trends , we're forever going to be too late. I met a published author who was writing YA fantasy twenty years ago and was told repeatedly that YA fantasy wouldn't sell. Yet she persisted, and when Harry Potter burst into the scene, showing well-written YA fantasy would indeed sell, her books became much more valuable. She wasn't chasing a trend. She wrote what she had to write and trends caught up with her.

Writers have to constantly balance our physical needs and spiritual/emotional/mental needs. We need to pay for coffee and computers as much as we need to express whatever it is that needs to be heard, to be understood, to be shared. If I want to write only what I want, then I shouldn't be surprised if no one else wants to read it. I have to pay attention to what people read and what agents and editors want. But that awareness mustn't overshadow the original impulse to write.

Common sense, all of this. Nothing new. But the real reason I have to write what I love is this: getting published is so incredibly difficult that if I choose to invest myself, the motivation had better be able to sustain the efforts. At least that way if I don't get published, the actual work I will have written will not mock me when I'm on my death bed.

So I will try to tighten my first page, I will kill my darlings, I will listen to the people in the know about what sells and what doesn't. But the actual books I write will come from those restless, unformed ideas in my soul and the sparkles that go off in my head. Otherwise, writing goes from being impossibly hard to just plain impossible.

PPW Conference part 2: party time

The second session I attended was a traditional read-and-critique with Laurie McLean, the agent I wanted to pitch to. I wanted to see what she was like. The feeling in this room was a lot less wired, maybe because everyone had a chance to read three pages instead of just one. Laurie's responses were direct and honest, never condescending. After everyone had finished reading, she gave the rest of us observers a chance to read. I only had my copy of the one-page opening I'd just read in the Xtreme session but Laurie was kind enough to listen. Since the page had already been judged once, I felt there was less riding on it. She didn't say she wouldn't read on, and that was enough for me.

The other good thing that happened at this session was meeting Cheryl, the writer who'd won first place in the category in which I'd placed second. http://cherylreifsnyder.blogspot.com/ As we left the room together, someone said to her in a low voice, "417, pass it on." The person just kept on walking, without looking back. I'd just overheard an important bit of information about where a heist would take place! Cool! Who would've thought that these things happened in a writers' conference!

But then Cheryl turned to me and said, "417, you got that, right?" My stunned expression must have prompted her to explain further, "There's a party for children's authors tonight after dinner at room 417. You should come!"

The truth was not as outlandish, but sounded exciting nonetheless, so that night after dinner, I went. The party turned out to be a blast. It was the most fun I'd had in a long time. We talked about CO2 poisoning, cardboard violins, the relative merits of chocolate/orange Milano cookies and sauvignon blanc/chardonnay, limericks, and yes, the pain of rejection and the craziness of having to impress a power-to-be with 14 lines of writing. I also met someone who offered to make an introduction to his agent. Nothing may come of it if my writing doesn't impress, but still. An introduction is an introduction.

The party could have gone on a lot longer if management hadn't called up to the room to say we were too loud. I don't know what the mystery or romance or sci-fi writers were doing, but we children's writers rocked!

PPW conference part 1: Read and Critique Xtreme

At the Pikes Peak Writers Conference this past weekend, I put my work in front of agents and editors three times. At the first session, a Read and Critique Xtreme, each participant got to read a first page of a book in front of an editor. The rationale behind the Xtreme part of the R&C: editors and agents often decide on a manuscript based on a first page. If they aren't compelled to read on, they will pass.

I thought the session had more value than merely having my work critiqued by an industry professional; I would hear other works and see how close my reaction came to the editor's and maybe learn how to craft a better beginning.

Who was I kidding. I couldn't concentrate on what the others read because I kept worrying about how mine would go. Isolated sentences struck me as being good in between thoughts of how I could escape and whether I would fumble and how I would hold my head up high if I were to crash and burn.

When my name was finally called, I stood up to deliver my first page. And then: silence. Not a good sign. It was time to put into action my plan to escape, but I couldn't move. Finally the response came. It was not horrible, but basically she said she wouldn't read on. I mumbled a thank you, allowed my head to hang, and wondered if the hotel would give me a refund since I'd only checked in less than an hour ago.

When the session ended, I took off my name tag, which listed me as a winner in the contest sponsored by the parent organization of the conference. I could imagine everyone in the room who'd heard me read thinking, "She is a winner? With that lousy writing?" Instead of going to the next session, I went back to my room. I wondered why I came. Worse, I wondered how I was going to keep writing. This was the first time I'd shown my work to someone besides other authors and my critique group, to someone who knew what was publishable, and I'd failed.

All right, I hear you. Quit the pity party already! I did, because even when I was feeling sorry for myself I could tell how pathetic I sounded. So I picked myself up, put my name tag on, and proceeded to my second session, which I will write about later.

A Mom's first conference

I am getting ready to go to a 3-day writers' conference tomorrow. This will be the first time I will be gone overnight. My children are 7 and 5 and I am sure will enjoy their time with Dad. In fact, when I did a trial run a few weeks ago and went to a one-day workshop, they had a blast. So why am I nervous at all? For one, my daughter isn't feeling well. Second, a fun-filled Saturday may be a novelty but a Friday-Saturday-Sunday may stretch the novelty factor a bit too thin. And third, did I say I've never left them overnight before? Well, actually, I did have to leave for a week when my son was almost one. It was during my previous life as a musician. I had a conducting gig in a different town. I talked the organizers into flying my 2-and-a-half year old daughter with me and hiring a babysitter for her while I rehearsed and performed. And while I was gone, grandma and grandpa flew over to dote over the baby.

Fast forward five years and only now am I brave enough to attempt another time away. They are so much older now, I have nothing to worry about. What's the worst? They mope around all weekend? Nah, not likely. They watch too much TV? Probably. My husband getting exhausted and become super appreciative of what I do? Hmmmm...