IWSG: A Shoulder, a Hand, and a Word of Encouragement

It’s the first Wednesday of the month, time for

Alex J. Cavanaugh’s Insecure Writer’s Supports Group

I’ve been participating in the IWSG for a year now, and, in that time, I think most of my posts have been complaints about one thing or another, usually about how discouraged I was feeling.  Yes, I know, that’s kind of what it’s for, but, besides being a place to vent insecurities, it’s also a place to support those writers who need it.  I just always seemed to be on the receiving end.  But not today.

Today, I’m here to tell you, you CAN do it.  I’m living proof.  And if I can do it, so can you.  For whatever reason, writers are incredibly insecure.  All we want is for others to read our words, and, for most of us, that means we want to publish those words, get them out into the world for all to see and, hopefully, love.  But with the industry in total upheaval, it seems quite daunting.  There are dues to pay, rules to follow, a platform to build, and a craft to learn and perfect. And to make it even harder, we have to get past those pesky gatekeepers, because…well, that’s the way it’s always been done.  Right? 

As my dear friend and fellow author, Jennifer Hillier once told me, there are many paths to publication.  Some of you have chosen the self-pub route.  I commend you on that move.  Contrary to what some might think, it’s not the easiest way, at least not if you want to actually sell your book to readers.  It takes endless hours of hard work to promote a book on your own.  I know I could never do it myself.  And it’s not just about not having the marketing expertise either.  I simply don’t have the drive.  Even if I hadn’t sold my novel, I know I never would have self-pubbed because it’s just so blasted difficult.  Kudos to those of you fearless enough to take on that brave new world.

If you’re more like me and, for whatever reason, only consider traditional publishing, take heart.  That doesn’t necessarily mean you have to pursue the traditional path.  With the explosion of ebooks, and with traditional publishers—namely the Big 6—not really knowing how to forecast, let alone deal with what the future might bring, many small presses have popped up.

These independent publishers are focused and built on the very foundation of ebooks, as well as the old standards.  They’re start-ups with marketing and business plans developed around this new formula, with the ability to change with an industry in flux.  They aren’t dinosaurs trying to survive what they see as a world apocalypse.  And while the Big 6 and all their subsidiaries and imprints throw 99% of their marketing budgets behind 1% of their authors, the indies are not only willing to cast their money and reputation behind new talent, they thrive on it  

Most of these establishments understand that the old blueprint is not the only way to find this new talent.  They don’t rely solely on literary agents.  They know writers don’t always choose to seek representation, and that even if a writer hasn’t been able to land an agent, that doesn’t mean their work is not worthy of publication.  It just means many agents overlook talent while pandering to the T-Rex. 

I spent a few months seeking the Holy Grail, and while I only tapped the top of the well and had planned on digging deeper, I didn’t limit myself.  In addition to sixty or so agents, I chose to query one small press, which resulted in a deal.  Yeah, sure, I would love the validation that goes along with representation, but ultimately, publication was what I sought.  And I got that.  Without an agent.  It is possible.  In fact, I have several friends who’ve done the same recently.  I stand behind it so fiercely, I convinced another friend who seemed dead set against it to finally submit to my publisher, Sapphire Star Publishing.  Why the hell not?  His book is every bit good enough. 

So to all of you who feel ground under the heel of Godzilla and his minions, fear not.  Embrace change and snuggle deep into the bosom of revolution.  It’s your time.  You just need the ability and desire to break free from dogma of conformity.  The publishing industry is headed that way regardless.  Why not tag along for the ride?     

________

This is my last IWSG post before my debut novel, The Mistaken, launches on the 18^th.  After that, I might be seeking consolation for utter and total failure.  But I sure hope not!

BTW, if you were here on Monday, you know I’m out of town at my first writer’s conference.  Because of this, I probably won’t have time to make the rounds until I get back.  But thank you so very much for stopping by.  It’s the support of friends like you that has enabled me to make my dreams come true.

IWSG: Weebles Wobble

It’s the first Wednesday of the month, time for

Alex J. Cavanaugh’s Insecure Writer’s Support Group.

I was busy posting for the A to Z Challenge last month, so I forgot to write for the IWSG.  The last time I posted for the group in March, I was deliberating whether or not to concede to a major revision in order to get my book published.  Well, as most of you know, I did concede, and I got my book deal, but does that make me any less insecure?  Well, in some ways, yes, but in many others, no, not at all.

I suppose what made me most insecure was not landing an agent with my query, and I still haven’t achieved that, even if I did manage to land the bigger fish—the publisher.  I never really liked the idea of a gatekeeper anyway, but still, having the approval of one is a mighty form of validation, one which I desired.  So in that sense, I am still insecure. 

And I still worry obsessively, too, just about different things, things that are more or less out of my control.  But when you agree to publish, you have a very limited amount of control.  I’m an artist, so I have definitive ideas about my book’s cover, and while my publisher listened to my ideas, they are still the ones to decide what it’ll be.  I’m also worried about the edits, which are coming soon.  Though I’ve been assured there isn’t much to change, I know I’ll still have to kill a darling here or there—words, not characters.

 

Of course, my biggest insecurity is wondering how well my book will do once it’s released in October.  Its success will ride mostly on word-of-mouth.  Sure, there will be marketing and blog tours and reviews and all that, but you and I know that most books are made or broken by word-of-mouth.  And my audience is adult, a most discerning crowd. 

So while I’ve had my own brand of validation from my publisher, it’s all still a crap shoot.  Sure, I’ve had my share of accolades, which I am greatly appreciative of, but while many of those are from writers, they have since become my friends, so there’s some built-in bias there.  Come October, what are total strangers going to think?  Now there’s the true rub.  At this point, I feel kind of like one of those Weebles.  I wobble a lot, but I haven’t yet fallen down.  I just hope it stays that way.  

    

Notes on Craft: Tension

I love stories, whether they’re told by mouth, expressed through song, or acted out on film.  But more than anything, I love books.  I suppose the one feature that makes books different from these other genres is the pace at which the story unfolds.  I can read a book at whatever pace I choose.  Some books are only good enough for short bathroom breaks, while others are so well written I can barely put it down long enough to get my chores done.  So what’s the difference between them?  What makes a book a page-turner?

There are many elements that make up a good story.  While characters may or may not be likeable, they must be vivid and dynamic.  Dialogue must snap with electricity and be free of accompanying actions that bog down the pace.  Every scene must crackle with both inner and outer conflict conveyed through specific and identifiable turning points.  Setting must come alive not through eloquent writing, but through how the characters wrestle with their emotional ties to it.  The voice, more than just syntax, should sing clearly in detail and delivery, articulating a belief system and personal perspective while overwhelming the reader with authority and relieving us of skepticism.  So how does a writer accomplish each of these?  That’s easy.  Through tension.

As writers, we understand that a story has ebb and flow, a cycle of ups and downs.  But you cannot construct a story that is always on the upswing.  A reader cannot appreciate such an upswing unless there is a downswing with which to contrast it to.  And in order to keep the reader’s attention through a downswing, you must maintain tension.  Literary agent, Donald Maass, calls this micro-tension in his book “The Fire in Fiction.”  In it he says:

“Micro-tension is the moment-by-moment tension that keeps the reader in a constant state of suspense over what will happen, not in the story, but in the next few seconds.”

Maass portends that micro-tension is vital in all aspects of a novel, whether it be in dialogue, in action sequences, or in exposition.  And more importantly, “micro-tension...comes from emotions, and not just any old emotions, but conflicting emotions.” 

Donald Maass of the Maass Agency

Dialogue in a novel should never be truly natural, which is often stilted with interruptions.  If dialogue in a novel were written naturally, we would all be bored to death, wondering if the speaker was ever going to get around to his or her point.  Maass writes, “In dialogue, it’s not the information itself, but the doubt about the facts and the skepticism of the deliverer.”  It is “emotional, not intellectual,” that as readers, “we don’t want to know if the debate will settle the point of contention, but whether the debaters will reconcile.”   Also important, dumping information via dialogue only works “if it is infused with tension, and even then, it must be a tug-of-war.”  

This element of emotion is equally important in action.  Emotion, especially contrasting emotion, is what provides energy for each scene.  The same can be said for exposition, where the use of conflicting emotion keeps the reader involved.  They want and need to know if the characters will resolve their conflict.  This is where we learn of their “contradictions, dilemmas, opposing impulses, and clashing ideas…It puts the character’s heart and mind in peril,” explains Maass.

One area in a novel that frequently looses steam due to a lack of tension is backstory.  This is at its worst when backstory is used up front, before the story even has a chance to get started.  We lose interest simply because we don’t care about all those bits the author thinks we need to know in order for the story to make sense.  James Scott Bell calls this a first page mistake and warns never to front load with backstory, noting it will only serve to stall instead.  Maass contends that backstory may be added as long as it is not the point.  The point, he says, “is to set up the conflict of emotions and inner tension.”  He suggests using the past to create present conflict, that this will “stir curiosity to find out what will happen.”

So while tension is not the only aspect of a successful page-turner, it is of primary importance.  After reading “The Fire in Fiction,” I read through my own manuscript.  For the most part, I did have tension is every paragraph, but I where it lagged, I pumped it up using the techniques described in Maass’s book.  I highly recommend it as a necessary tool on craft for every writer. 

Read through your own manuscript.  Is tension present in every chapter, paragraph, or sentence? 

Bad News Isn't Always a Bad Thing

Being a writer is a tough gig.  There’s very little payback and we generally work alone.  Yes, it’s true, this new age of blogging has allowed us to reach out and connect with others, more so than we would have been able to at any other time.  But still, we are pretty much alone, stuck in our own heads, making up strange tales set in strange lands with strange people. 

            We experience minor victories from time to time.  We string together coherent sentences, then paragraphs and chapters, plots and subplots, until, finally, we have a book.  We are so proud.  Not many people even attempt to write a book let alone finish one.  Afterwards, we read and revise, edit and add content.  We scrub and buff until it shines like an uncut diamond.  Then, if we’re lucky, we find amazing critique partners who help us polish our gem until its sparkles like Edward Cullen on a sunny day. 

            When we’re ready, we go through the whole process again with our query letter.  Scribble, scratch, buff and shine.  We are not daunted by the research necessary to find the appropriate agents to send our query.  We compile our list and format our submissions, cringing with raw nerves when we hit the send button.

            Then we wait.  And wait some more—more and more and more and more.  Every time we get a new email, we wonder if it could be the one.  And when it’s not, when it’s nothing more than another rejection, we shrink a little lower in our seats, lose a little more confidence.  We may even cry. 

            But then we get one, maybe even two or three, or—good God almighty—four:  a request for pages, a partial or the whole damn thing.  A happy dance ensues, perhaps a bit of screaming and raising of one’s arms towards God in heaven. 

But not for long.  Gotta get those pages out.   

            Then we wait.  And wait some more—more and more and more and more.  We thought we were tense before, but now with our baby out in the big, bad world, we’re ready to spin like a top we’re so wound up.  Again, every time a new email arrives, we wonder.  But it’s been so long, we almost forget.  Until we see that agent’s name above the subject line with our book title right below.  Our hands shake, our breathing gets shorter and more labored as we open it.

Then the world comes crashing down around our ears.  Utter devastation.  That first rejection of our full manuscript is unbearably painful, but eventually, after days of tears and heartbreak, we brush ourselves off and move forward.

            The next rejection hurts, as well, but there’s nothing really to glean from it because, once again, it’s just a simple no thanks, but good luck to you.  Nothing to tell us we’re on the right track or not.  So, though our pride is stinging and our confidence is waning, we trudge onward, perhaps making a revision or two, just a tweak here and there to make us feel like we’re improving it somehow.  And out go more queries in sporadic bursts. 

            Then we wait.  Again.  But this time, we’re a bit numb.  Our skin is definitely getting thicker.  We’ve learned to put those queries out of mind and get on with life.  And so, when another request comes in, we’re excited, but wary, especially since we know this is likely just a favor from our friend’s agent.  But it’s a request nonetheless.  So out go those pages, one more time.  We sigh, thinking of the long wait before us, cringing at that stupid typo in the very first paragraph on the very first page that we didn’t notice until after we’d already sent it.    

            But then another request comes in.  Hope!  Pages go out.  Another long sigh.  Another long wait.  And then another request.  Even more hope!  Sigh.  Wait.  And wait some more.  And more and more and more.

            Then something remarkable happens.  It’s not a good thing, mind you, but neither is it entirely bad.  Yeah, it’s a rejection and so it hurts a little, but the skin is pretty tough now and the pain is just a tingle of disappointment rather than a ripping out of the heart.  It was improbable anyway.  This was, after all, that favor request.  But this time the email is not a one line denial of interest.  And while the agent is “just short of enthusiastic enough to take it on and fight for it,” she says “there’s a lot of wonderful stuff in there” and “goodness knows, it was very close.”  So even though she suggests a change in the protagonist’s name, it’s cool.  It’s an easy fix.  And if that’s the worst thing she can think of, there’s reason to feel good.  That’s the best rejection letter ever!

            My point here is that we get a lot more bad news than good, but bad news is not always a bad thing.  Sometimes it lifts our sagging confidence, offers a push back onto the road, granted with a little coarse correction.  We know we’re getting closer to our destination.  We can feel it.  The trick is to not give up, even when the bad news is really bad.  You never know when a little ray of sunshine will come along and brighten your otherwise dreary day.  And hey, there are still a few requested pages out there.  And after that, there are always more agents to query.  It’s not the end game yet.           

                                             

Stories Don't Happen in a Vacuum

            I knew I would have to come up with something to post about today, but when I woke up, I still hadn’t thought of anything new, that is until I read today’s post at BookEnds Lit Agency.  Today is Workshop Wednesday at BookEnds, the day agent Jessica Faust posts one of the queries she’s received for critiquing, kind of like Janet Reid does at Query Shark.

I love query critiques.  I think it is the single most effective way to know what does and doesn’t work in a query.  Now, I don’t always agree with Ms. Faust’s opinion.  Case in point, a few weeks ago, she critiqued this query and loved it.  I thought the query was vague, at best, and had many of the qualities that agents advise writers not to include.  But she loved the “southern rhythm” of the voice.  Yeah, I didn’t get that at all and I lived in the south for awhile, but whatever, just like books, it’s subjective and if she liked it then kudos to the author.  Well done!

But this week’s critique struck a nerve with me because Ms. Faust alluded to something I hear over and over again when agents are critiquing queries.  After reading the first two paragraphs of the query, she more or less said, this is all backstory; the real story starts here.  In other words, cut all this crap out and get to the meat of the story.  While I agree the query needs a lot of work, I find issue with the fact that the agent automatically thinks the first two-thirds of the query, and therefore the book, is all backstory. 

In my opinion, this is the story, at least part of it.  It is how the author wrote it to give it structure and body, a reference point from which to contrast the conflict.  It bothers me that the agent thinks that everything that came before what she considers the core of the story is somehow irrelevant or that the story goes off track.  Yes, the author should have written the query differently to show the progression of the story and the importance of that progression. 

She implied subtly that the story might be about something else, or perhaps that was just the agent inferring that idea, but even still, that doesn’t mean all those points the writer thought important enough to include in her query are not crucial to the story.  Some of the commenters, in fact, seemed very interested in the writer’s story, calling out the fact that those first two paragraphs were simply acts one and two.

My point is that agents toss aside stories based on assumptions that the reader doesn’t want to know all that happened before, that they simply want to get to the meat of the story.  Well, okay, I don’t need to know everything that happened to the nineteen-year-old MC during her first seventeen or eighteen years unless it’s relevant to the story, but from age nineteen on, all the things that happen to her forge her into the woman she becomes and adds dimension to her reasoning, to how she handles the conflict.  Stories don’t happen in a vacuum.  We need to care about the protagonist and their journey and we do this through knowing and understanding their history. 

I often wonder why everyone is always in such a hurry to get to the end.  It’s all about instant gratification so we can move on to the next thing.  Why not savor the time spent with a story and let yourself get immersed in the simmering heat of the layers as they buildup?  I’m not saying that everything that the query writer put in her query is essential.  Personally, it comes off more like historical romance, not historical fiction, and so definitely not my thing, but I get that those details are important to understanding why there even is a conflict. 

Could you imagine if Winston Groom had to query Forrest Gump in today’s market?  Some agents would likely say to cut all that backstory about Forrest as a small child or in high school, but it is those details in the early chapters that show how Forrest changes later in life, how he manages to deal with all the drama that’s thrown his way.  How can we know if we weren’t privy to the backstory?

All this relates to me personally because last week I rewrote my query, for what must be the fifteenth time, based on advice from Stephanie DeVita in her post last week titled Slow Summer, where she says, “In most of the queries that I read, the writer isn’t giving me the most thrilling aspect of their book, the crucial element that should make me desperate to ask for more pages. In other cases, it’s unclear if that pivotal element is even there.” 

So I cut all the “backstory” out of my query and just alluded to it in the second line, then got right into the major point of the conflict.  But now I worry that any agent who requests pages will think the first third of my novel is all backstory when, in fact, it is the story, or part of it anyway.  Since the story is all about a man who changes, who becomes a different man due to some pretty terrible things that happen to him, that first third of the book is the setup.  It determines what he was like at first and how those events twisted him into a different man, made him act a certain way and do that one awful thing that drives the story.  The rest of the book is how he deals with the repercussions of those decisions.  Why would any reader care about how he changed and what he did if they didn’t know his “backstory?”

And by the way, I hate that word, backstory.  It makes it feel like all those early words are somehow illegitimate, a bastard to be cast aside.  Yes, it matters how that information is presented, that we feel it is part of the actual story and not simply dumped there in a lazy attempt to give context, but I like to think of it as the ice cream in my sundae.  It’s all those yummy bits on top that make it special, but you can’t just eat the yummy bits.  You have to savor it properly with the ice cream set below.  Otherwise, it’s not a sundae.         

Ghost in the Machine

I usually have a difficult time coming up with a new blog topic.  Not so this week.  I’ve had one thing—writing related, of course—that’s been bothering me:  My blog.  Now, some of you may already know this, but I have a few new followers who may not:  I do not particularly like blogging.  It just seems to get in the way of what I really want to do and that is write, and by that, I mean my novel.  But blogging is part of that whole building a platform thing that agents seem to rag on about, and maintaining an Internet presence is one way in which to do so.  I also use Facebook and LinkedIn, and though I have a Twitter account, I’ve never used it and don’t even remember what my Twitter name is.  So blogging is just another method to build a platform on which writers can put their words out there for whomever to see.  And this is where the whole bothering thing comes in.

First off, the idea of building a platform means you have to try to gain readership and in the case of Blogger (or Blogspot,) those readers are tracked and presented to the blogger as stats.  I try hard not to pay too much attention to my stats.  I try even harder not to check them too often.  It tends to make me feel kind of high school-ish, like how popular am I today?  Or how many followers do I have this week?  And it never fails to disappoint because, just like in high school, I don’t seem to be all that popular.  I do hate that feeling, that there’s something lacking in me somehow, but I’ve never been one to dwell on that sort of thing.  I mean, I may not be popular, but I get all the attention I need and I’m happy with that.  Then something weird happened:    My stats took a flying leap skyward, at least by my standards.  (Most of you would probably laugh at my low standards.)

This started a week ago when I first heard of Alex J Cavanaugh’s It’s All Fun & Games Blogfest via fellow blogger and follower Bryce Daniels.  I chose not to participate because I’m not much of a game player, but through Alex I met Kittie Howard and my blogging life changed considerably.  I know this platform building thing takes time.  It requires effort and patience to garner an audience and even longer to gain followers, those interested enough in what you have to say to hit that little button and paste their face on your page.

I don’t post to my blog very often, only once a week, and I certainly don’t say anything that hasn’t already been said, so I knew I wouldn’t be a loud voice in the large crowd.  But every once in a while someone would come along and give me a tiny piece of advice and another follower would pop up.  Boy, how excited would I get when that happened?  It’s kind of like that whole Sally Fields "You Like Me, You Really Like Me" scene at the Oscars.  Not a pretty sight.  But it told me that my blog was becoming more important to me and that I really did like it when someone actually paid attention. 

I know I have a few non-writer friends who pop in and read my posts and even a few writer friends who do the same, but none of them are actual followers.  And that’s fine.  I never want to pressure anyone to follow me, after all, I mostly do this to connect with other writers.  Then I heard that following those blogs you like most and commenting on their posts can provide enough interest to possibly make someone tune in and maybe even follow you right back.  But how do you choose?  There are thousands among thousands of writer blogs out there.  How do you find the ones that appeal to you? 

Well, I’ve been sifting through the follower armies of those who have chosen to follow me, as well as the thirty or so I had been following for the last six months or so.  And I have found quite a few that appeal to me and I’ve chosen to follow them.  Sometimes those bloggers will just automatically follow you right back, kind of like a professional courtesy or something.  That’s so sweet!  I guess time will tell if they are really interested in what I have to say, but a couple of them went through the trouble of searching for me through my email account since, for reasons I can’t figure out, my blog was not linked to my Blogger profile.  That’s some kind of dedication, if you ask me.  All those extra steps just to find and follow someone.  (You know who you and I thank you profusely.) 

Anyway, my new follower, Kittie Howard, was kind enough to list my blog on her blog roll.  (Thanks, Kittie!)  And BAM!  All of a sudden, my stats went freakin’ crazy.  I thought it might just be a one time thing, but it hasn’t slowed down one bit in the last week.  Very strange.  At least half my hits were coming directly from her site.  I went from a measly average of 4 or 5 hits a day (please, I beg you, do NOT laugh) to 50 or more (okay, you can snicker.)  So…what the hell is going on here?  This can’t possibly be right. 

I had my first inkling of unease when I tuned into follower L.G. Smith’s Bards and Prophets blog last Saturday and found out that I was not the only one to suddenly enjoy an incredible surge in popularity.  I checked all the stats and while I am getting hits on many different posts and not just my last one, and I have had more comments than usual, I have not gained the number of followers  one might expect with such a high volume of readers.  Now, I have doubled my numbers in the last week (thanks Barb, Jennifer, Joylene, Norma, Lindsay, Julie, Magpie, Donna, Alex, L.G. and Kittie,) but I think this is more from my own cultivation, by connecting through their blogs and leaving comments on their wonderful posts. 

So what’s up, Blogger?  How am I supposed to know how effective (or ineffective, it would seem) I am if you are not providing the proper feedback?  I choose to gauge my success by the number of followers I have and it would seem that I’m not all that successful.  Some bloggers do not like to show who follows them.  I considered this, knowing it would keep secret how unpopular I truly am, but I decided against it, thinking it would somehow motivate me to cultivate more relationships with other writers.  I’m trying not to feel like that high school girl everyone knew and liked yet was still not considered, by definition, to be popular. 

Maybe this is Bloggers way of making everyone feel more popular, like we’re somehow making progress.  But all I want is the truth, good or bad.  Used to be I would cringe every time I checked my stats.  A few days ago I exalted.  But now I’m just deflated.  ‘Cause it’s likely just some ghost in the machine.  I don’t know what to believe.  Anyone else out there experiencing this?                            

To Prologue or Not

            Well, Monday was an interesting day in the blogosphere, what with everyone participating in writer Alex J. Cavanaugh’s It’s All Fun & Games Blogfest.  I thought about it and decided not to participate myself because, for one, I don’t like to post about anything that is not directly related to writing, and second, I really didn’t have a good answer.  I mean, I like Pictionary, Texas Hold ‘em and basketball, but besides Pictionary, they didn’t seem to fit into the genre everybody else was blogging about.  But I did find some really great blogs to follow and I even managed to snag a couple new followers myself, fellow writers Kittie Howard and M. Pax.  Thanks to both of you and welcome aboard!

Yeah, so I try to stick with only those topics related to writing, but I sometimes find it difficult to come up with new subject matter.  Such was the case this week.  Then I thought I’d write about what’s been consuming me lately in regards to my book.  For months now, I’ve been pretty content with my novel overall, except for the opening chapters.  First, I have a slight problem with the fact that agents and their assistants need immediate action within the first 250 words.  It seems to be a national thing that Americans need instant gratification.  No one seems to be able to wait in anticipation any more, even for just a page or two.  But that’s okay, I do have an opening chapter with tension, conflict and action. 

The thing is, I want to open up with something else.  Some might call it a prologue, and while it does read somewhat like a prologue, it’s actually a brief foreshadowing, only 261 words, where the protagonist ponders how he missed the moment he changed from the good man he once was into the villain he’s become.  I thought it appropriate since it bookends the overall theme running through my novel, complementing how he sees himself in the end.  But how do you query with submitted pages with this?  Agents don’t seem to want to see this sort of thing.

Well, I’ve waffled back and forth on this.  My heart tells me to keep it in, but something in my head is telling me to chuck it.  Nathan Bransford had a good post on this a couple of years ago which you can read here, but what he essentially says, or asks rather, is that if you were to take it out, could your book stand on its own?  My answer would be a resounding yes.  It’s not vital to the overall story, but it makes an impactful statement and I really like that. 

At first, I thought I could get around this by simply calling it chapter one, but it just doesn’t feel right.  And if I were to submit it as the first chapter with a query, the agent’s assistant would likely just toss it out, proclaiming it didn’t have enough action.  So last week, when writer Adam Heine wrote a post on When & When Not To Prologue, I commented, asking his advice.  He made a suggestion and I thought it a pretty good idea.  He said the chapter sounds like it's internal, as opposed to the protagonist being active, and while it totally might work, in general that's a red flag.  He suggested I remove the chapter heading, (which up to that point had been chapter one though it should have been a prologue,) because I probably wouldn’t want the first word the agent reads to be “prologue.”  He’s right.  I don’t.

So I have removed the chapter heading and I won’t be including it in pages submitted with my query.  I will start with the action, just like they want.  But now I’m worried about another item agents frequently complain about and want to know within the first 250 words:  What is the story about?  Well, you see, if I were to leave that darn prologue in, it would tell exactly what the story is about.  But I don’t seem to be able to have both. 

I kind of have a problem with the fact that agents want to know what the story is about in the first 250 words.  I mean, how do you even do that?  My friend, Lisa Regan, did this perfectly in her novel, Finding Claire Fletcher, a fantastic book being pitched to publishers as we speak, but then again, it was quite introspective, as well, yet it did not read as a prologue.  I still have a lot to learn from her.  She wants me to keep that foreshadowing chapter up front, but advises I do what makes me comfortable.  Having finally decided, I’m feeling more at peace. 

During the last week, I pumped up my new first chapter and, per Rachelle Gardner’s advice via her blog post What’s the Story on Backstory?, I’ve rewritten the backstory to be part of the action and dialogue.  I’m feeling pretty good about it all right now.  I think, after taking the last three months off, I am finally ready to start querying again. 

I’ve learned a lot since I first started querying and I won’t be going about it like I’ve done in the past.  I’ll be like the turtle, slow and steady.  I’m kind of used to the rejection by now, so I’m not too concerned with that.  I’m striving for more requests for partials and fulls.  And this time, with all the changes I’ve made, I hope someone sees something good in it, something worth offering representation. 

It’s been about ten months or so since I finished my first draft.  A lot of pain and heartache, joy and accomplishment, a lot of learning what the industry is all about and making of new friends within it.  I know I will never stop learning new things about writing and publishing, but I think I’ve finally reached that point where I’m comfortable with what I know, and even with what I don’t. 

            So, I’m curious, where do you stand on brief prologues or an opening chapter that doesn’t start out with a blockbuster explosion?  Is intrigue enough for you or do you want to be slapped in the face with action?  

Point of View & Writing Style

            I’ve had a few discussions with other (aspiring) writers in recent weeks regarding point of view (POV) and style and it seemed to me that the two were related and interwoven in a significant way.  First off, I should mention that my novel is written in the first person.  When I started writing, I began in the (close) third person which, in my experience, is how a great majority of stories are told, so it seemed natural to write that way.  I’m sure I’ve read quite a few first person narratives, but I must say I was never really aware of it, that is until I read the young adult novel, Twilight by Stephanie Meyer.  YA is not my usual fare, but I wanted to see what the fuss was all about.  Now, I realize Twilight is not exactly literary fiction.  Not even close.  It’s simple and told in a straight forward voice—an uncomplicated juvenile voice at that—but it struck me as very honest and relatable to its audience—mostly teenagers and young adult women.  While reading, I was actually aware of the voice which I had never really paid all that much attention to before in most of the books I read.  I found I enjoyed the first person POV and being in the protagonist’s head.  I felt close to the action and embroiled in her emotions, however corny and anemic the story might be.      

There is a major drawback to the first person POV, however:  the reader only knows, sees, hears or feels what the protagonist knows, sees hears or feels.  That can be rather limiting and make it difficult to tell a complete story.  Two of my favorite authors, Greg Iles (The Devil’s Punchbowl) and Michael Connelly (The Reversal), solved this dilemma by writing in both the first person and close third person, alternating the voices between chapters.  This worked well for them, as well as for my dear friend and critique partner, writer Lisa Regan, in both her novels, Finding Claire Fletcher and Aberration. 

I considered this technique and decided against it because I really needed my reader to be fully engaged in exactly what the characters—both the main character and his victim—were feeling.  It was, after all, the victim’s reaction to the main character’s crime that made the main character reconsider his path.  And the victim’s journey is just as important as the main character’s.  They could only truly find what they needed through each other.  Third person felt too remote and detached to accomplish that.  Not exactly what I was going for since my story is so wrought with emotional turmoil.  At one point, I actually considered changing half my story to close third person POV but my critique partner strenuously advised against it.  And I did not have a character to rely on who could conveniently supply large amounts of information such as a reporter, a shrink, a private investigator or someone else in the know.  I had only four characters to do this.  One of them dies early on and another is physically absent for a large part of the story.   

So I rethought how I would tell the story and decided that the only way to truly deliver on the pain and agony of the main characters was to tell it from their perspectives.  But I’d only read a handful of multiple POV novels before and most of the time, those perspectives were differentiated with a change in font type on the printed page (Iles & Picoult).  Visually, it provided a good kick to the reader, letting them know a different person was narrating, but I think the writing itself should do that and the difference in voice should be obvious.  And having too many voices can be confusing, so while I knew I could not tell the whole story through just one character’s perspective, I did not want to have more than two at any given time. 

I decided the best way for me to show who the narrator was, was to simply put the character’s name as the chapter heading and allow the reader to associate a name to the voice.  I tried to make the two voices sound and feel different so even if the reader happened not to glance at the chapter heading, they could automatically feel and hear the difference.  This was important because I did not always alternate characters between every chapter, yet I did not want to make the chapters overly long, so I relied on my writing style to naturally differentiate the voices.  This, in turn, brings me to my other topic:  Style.

I have an online friend who offered me advice on style after reading a few chapters of my manuscript.  In his humble opinion, though I had A style, I had not yet found MY style.  Well, I disagreed wholeheartedly and while I am open to constructive criticism and felt he was not purposely unkind, he was a touch condescending and that was what put me off so much.  He used my opening line on chapter one and rewrote it, but to me, it was all about the words and how pretty they sounded when strung together.  And while they were pretty, they made absolutely no sense whatsoever, especially when you consider the voice of my character. 

He is an “everyman,” your average Joe, trying to make the right choices in a complicated world.  And what struck me right off the bat about my friend’s advised revision was what so many agents warn writers against:  do not let your writing get in the way of your story.  In other words, if the average reader has to work too hard to discern a meaning from a single sentence, they will grow frustrated, bored or weary and simply put the book down forever. 

I’m not trying to write literary fiction.  I don’t want to challenge the reader, as my friend suggested.  I write for the average reader who just wants to be taken away for a few hours here and there.  And I don’t write to impress anyone, least of all myself.  In MY humble opinion, overworked writing is like people who speak just to hear themselves talk.  My motto is “Just tell the freakin’ story already!” 

So while I do think style is very important, you have to write like you’re the person experiencing the events in your story, especially if told in the first person.  Trying to be eloquent for eloquence sake makes the novel all about your writing, not the story.  And in most cases, nobody even wants to be aware of your writing and style.  They want the writer to disappear and the character to emerge.  Now, that’s not say that a character cannot be overburdened by excessive introspective narrative.  In some cases, that’s who the character is, but in my case, it was not.  Nor do I think it the case in most adult thrillers. 

I recently followed an online recommendation and read—or tried to read anyway—The Book of Air and Shadows by Michael Gruber.  I must admit it was beautifully written.  The voice practically sang the words.  But the author took too long in getting his point across and moving the story along because, frankly, he just used too many words, and while they were lovely, it was just way too much. 

It reminded me of that moment in the film Amadeus, when Mozart asked the King what he felt the problem was with his latest opera, The Marriage of Figaro.  The King said quite simply, “Too many notes!”  (I disagree with the King on that point, by the way.)  It was the same with The Book of Air and Shadows.  While I enjoyed the written word, I got bored waiting for the story to progress.  I get that the protagonist—and the writer—was very bright, and I’m no slouch myself, but I have only so much time to read and if the author is not going to get a move on, then forget it.  I’m just going to put that blasted book down and never pick it up again. 

So while I appreciated the effort my friend took in advising me—though not his method—in the end, it made me see how important style relates to the POV.  First of all, I had to keep my novel around 85,000 words or so, as no agent or publisher wants to take on anything from a new writer much longer than that, so I had to convey a semi-complicated plot in easy to understand language and voice while doing so in as few words as possible.  I wrote like I was the protagonist, like I was just sitting there, perhaps by a camp fire, telling my story, trying to keep my listener interested. 

Agents constantly advise writers to read in the genre in which they write.  And I do.  In fact, that’s practically all I read, though I do break it up from time to time so as not to get burned out.  What I’ve noticed is that none of the writers I read—Connelly, Bell, Iles, Crighton, Brown, Clancy, Grisham, Follet, Gardner, Cross, Flynn, just to name a few—ever overwrite, either their narratives or their dialogue.  They tell a straight forward story in plain English.  And my favorites on that list write primarily in the first person, so while some people think that writing in first person POV is taking the easy way, I think they write for the reader, not themselves.  I don’t believe they write the way they write because it’s easy or hard—to challenge the reader or not.  They write that way to be interesting, to entertain, to keep the reader involved, and to express a voice.  I’d like to think, like them, I write for the reader.  Not for me.  

The American Way: Bigger is Better

            There has been a trend in America for quite some time and, by association, it nearly defines us as a nation of people.  It’s that whole “bigger is better” attitude.  And it really is the American Way, or more accurately, the American Dream itself.  We, in America, firmly believe that anything worth having will be even better if it’s bigger.  I see this in so many ways, the most obvious being in our consumption of food. 

The portion sizes of the foods we most love to eat have increased astronomically.  Twenty years ago, an average serving of pizza was 500 calories.  Today it is 850.  A serving of coffee used to be 8 ounces and 45 calories.  Today, it’s 16 ounces and 330 calories.  A 3-inch bagel, 140 calories vs. 5-6-inch at 350 calories.  And the staple of the American diet, a hamburger:  330 calories then vs. 590 calories now.  Of course, all this has resulted in much larger waistbands, as well.  The rate of obesity is twice as high as it was twenty years ago. 

            This “bigger is better” trend shows up in many other ways across our country.  The average home has increased in size by nearly sixty percent since 1970.  The small, local stores we used to patronize have given way to big-box super-sized stores such as Wal-Mart and Target.  And when it wasn’t enough for them to just sell household goods, they started offering their patrons a full line of groceries, too.  In 2005, the average CEO's compensation compared to the pay of manufacturing production workers was 39:1.  And in 2007, CEOs in the S&P 500 averaged $10.5 million annually, 344 times the pay of typical American workers. 

One area that is laughable in its increase in scale and grandiosity of theatrics is the music video industry.  Just look at Lady Gaga and Katy Perry as examples.  They are both often compared to Madonna and Britney Spears, but when you contrast the content of even the most controversial of Madonna’s or Britney’s videos with that of either of today’s popular artists, you will be amazed at the higher levels of both vulgarity and profanity, not to mention the scope and scale of visual spectacle.  American audiences are requiring more and larger spectacle just to remain merely interested in what’s playing on the video display before them.  We are becoming so desensitized that only the most audacious performances entertain us.

And what about the movie industry?  It seems only those films with the biggest budgets, the most popular stars, the most nudity and sexual promiscuity, or the biggest explosions and car chases reach large audiences or make any profit.  When a small film makes it, we are all shocked and amazed.  Many films today are adapted from popular books, but even the books are too big for one movie.  Producers have taken to splitting up some of the most popular books into two films to get the most mileage out of the content.  Look at the final installments of both the Harry Potter and Twilight franchises.  They could not find a way to condense either novel—each of which comes in at nearly 760 pages—into one all encompassing film, at least not without running over two and a half hours, the extent, it seems, of the American attention span.  And the special effects of these films will have to be spot on perfect, not to mention huge, because the American audience is way too sophisticated for anything less. 

Even natural disasters seem to have become bigger and more dangerous, not to mention more deadly.  If you look at the data here and here, you’ll see that the incidences of natural disasters has increased, again astronomically, with the exception of the number of earthquakes though the number of people affected by earthquakes has increased exponentially.  Now, you’re all probably wondering what the hell my point is and how this relates to writing or publishing since those are the things I blog about.  Well, I’ve been thinking about this trend a great deal since my last “conversation” with the great Anne Mini, author, editor and blogger extraordinaire. 

She blogged here and here about the importance of conflict on page one of a manuscript submitted to a literary agent, citing that the agent’s assistant—whom Anne refers to as Millicent—needed such content in order for her to forward those pages to her boss for consideration.  I objected slightly, stating that it felt like pandering to simply construct our first pages primarily for Millicent’s eyes.  Of course, Anne gave me many reasons why this is so, most predominantly, it seemed, because poor Millicent has to read so many submitted first pages that she only has patience for the most boldly written.  And while I understand that poor Millie is over-worked and constantly behind in filtering queries for her boss, it still strikes me as…well…wrong to construct our novel in this way and for this singular purpose. 

I suppose Millie and her boss are only reacting to the current market, that is to say that she knows that American readers, much like their counterparts in the movie and music industries, are so over-exposed to big blockbusters that they have become desensitized to everything else.  Simply stated, they need the explosion in the first scene to get and hold their attention.  We are a nation of ADHD consumers whose need for something bigger has overwhelmed our sense of quality in such a way that bigger has become better in our eyes.  No matter my distaste for this trend, I cannot ignore it, so I added content to the first pages of my manuscript.  Instead of starting at the aftermath of the conflict, which I believed would intrigue the reader, I had to go back and start with the conflict itself.  And while I do like the two new pages of added content, it still smacks of pandering to me, that I should have to do so in order for anyone to even consider reading my novel.

            It certainly hasn’t always been so, that the reader needed all that spectacle on page one.  Several agents have blogged about the fact that many of yesterday’s classics would never be able to successfully run the gauntlet that is today’s process to publication and that writers today cannot base the likelihood of their own success on that of the authors of books written in their own genre as little as five years ago.  And they’ve also said that it’s primarily only debut authors that have to grab the reader’s attention at line one page one, that established authors do not need to submit to such tactics, even in today’s wildly competitive market. 

            I sort of take this to mean that it’s not the quality of the immediate writing or jacket blurb style query that will garner attention of first time authors, but the ability to submit to trends.  I wonder why books published today cannot be more like classical music that starts off interesting, yet often quiet, building to wave after wave of crescendo until the story crashes over you like a tidal wave before it gently rolls to a stop along a sandy beach, retreating back into the ocean.  I’d like to think that people who read are somewhat more sophisticated than the average couch potato watching music videos or the latest film release.  Reading takes much more attention to detail and dedication to a story than either of the others.  So why do we have to be whacked over the head with a story?  Why can’t the writer take their time—with the economy of words, of course—to lay out the bones and the meat to their story? 

            I get that there is a formula and in order for a writer to be considered, they must show they have done their homework and are following said formula, but it seems the current market—the publishers desperately striving to survive a volatile industry gasping its last breath, and the agents who serve them—is shortchanging both the writer and the reader by bowing and therefore humbling themselves to current trends.  By definition, it’s transitory and will never last.  And by constantly rewriting the rules, the market may eventually erase what once made outstanding and interesting novels.    

Mid-life: Crisis or Celebration?

            While watching the Today Show this morning, I saw a story about mid-life crisis.  My attention was instantly glued to the tube because I have unexpectedly been suffering from such a malady.  Before a few months ago, I never really understood what that was all about.  I had this vague idea that it was something men went through in their late 40’s or so.  They would often dump their high-school sweetheart wife for a newer, younger version.  Or they would trade in their practical sedan for a brand new Corvette or Porsche.  I believed it was about their fear of stagnation.  Had they accomplished what they thought they would by that age?  If not, well then they would shake up their lives in an effort to feel better about themselves.    

            I never really worried about aging too much myself.  I never saw anything wrong or unattractive about a man going bald or a few wrinkles around a woman’s eyes or mouth.  I thought it created more character in a person.  I know a lot of folks are obsessed with their looks and how age is progressing across their face and bodies.  I guess I don’t worry about it too much because I have pretty good genes and have aged rather well, at least on my face.  No wrinkles yet though I am forty-seven years old.  Most people cannot believe how old I really am.  I can mostly thank my parents for that.  And while I think I have more than my fair share of age spots on my face, it doesn’t bother me too much.  I’d love to be thin again, of course, but I enjoy life too much on a day to day basis to put too much effort into losing weight when it is a battle waged against a chronic metabolic disorder.  It’s futile war I will likely never win.  So why try too hard.  I’m healthy regardless.

            So it came as a great surprise a few months ago when I started to have these feelings of inadequacy.  Now, like a lot of people these days, my job has been greatly affected by the terrible economy.  I work in the new home building industry, and in California no less.  I consider my industry to be the canary in the coal mine.  The first indicator of a downturn is often felt in new home construction.  So it’s been a great setback for me since not many new homes have been built in California over the last 3+ years.  I suppose my lack of work has considerably chipped away at my sense of usefulness and self-esteem.  But a year ago, I decided to try something new, something I’ve never done before.  I decided to write a novel. 

            I love writing in general and I loved writing that novel in particular.  It was so exciting to live vicariously through my characters, experience their heartaches and loss, their joys and triumphs.  And when it was complete, I felt a great sense of accomplishment.  Not a lot of people can say they’ve written a book.  But then came the hard part, trying to find an agent for my novel.  When I started researching for this stage, I found I was competing with mostly young people, people in their mid to late twenties.  The older folks had already had years of experience and several published books beneath their belts.  I was a newcomer at forty-seven, with no experience, and no other product but the one I had just finished.  I felt like a mother who had spent the last twenty years at home with the kids and was now trying to re-enter the work force.  Who is going to consider me when there are so many bright, young, fresh faces out there, faces with creative writing degrees behind them, not a twenty-some year old design degree?  That’s been a rather cold, wet slap in the face, a sour dose of reality I had not foreseen.  How do I compete?

            Apparently, only ten to twenty percent of the population experiences a mid-life crisis.  They often try to spice up their lives by doing something they’ve never done before, like climbing a mountain or, as one woman in the Today Show piece said, write a book.  Funny that she would turn her crisis around by writing a book while it’s been writing my book that has turned my life into a crisis.  So even while residing in the minority, that ten to twenty percent, I’m still in an even greater minority, someone whose mid-life crisis is caused by spicing up my life.  Great.  Perfect.  How typical of me. 

            I must admit, I have been asking myself those questions so many other mid-life crisis sufferers ask:  Who am I?  What am I besides a wife?  A mother?  It was that “ah-ha moment” of profound discovery that led me into crisis instead of out of it.  So what to do, what to do?  Most of the time, that “ah-ha moment” is one in which we wonder how much time we have left and what we are going to do with that time.  How do I adjust my life to make my remaining years more fulfilling?  I can only come up with one answer since, apparently, I have been going about this all backwards:  keep trying.  Keep moving forward.  Keep reaching for that dream no matter how far out of reach it may seem.  I think the longer I have to wait and the harder I work to attain that dream, the sweeter the payoff will be.  The more rewarding it will feel. 

            As we get older, our dreams and aspirations change.  They evolve.  When we are young, we want to get into the best college so we can get the best job.  When we get that job, we aspire to meet the love of our life and have the perfect family.  We hope our children will reach their full potential, providing proof that we were successful at the most difficult job on earth:  parenting.  Then we send them off on their own path of dreams.  But who are we at that point?  With all the big dreams behind us, what new dreams will we reach for?  I suppose it doesn’t really matter exactly what those dreams are, as long as we know what direction we want to go in.  Having a dream pushes us forward, keeps us motivated to get out of bed each day.  The road to our dream is often difficult and full of potholes and roadblocks, but if it was smooth and clear all the time, perhaps we would not find as much fulfillment in the accomplishment. 

            So I know when I finally reach my goal of being published, whether it’s with my current book or the next one I will write or the one thereafter, I can look back and say it was all worth it.  I will get over that hump of mid-life crisis and the downhill ride will be fun rather than anticlimactic because the battle to make it over the crest was hard won.  And the pot of gold at the end very shiny.  

Everyone Needs a Champion

Let's face it, I'm lost.  I don't even know how to get started finding my way back home.  For some reason, I decided to take a path with no roadmap.  And when I started, I didn't know anyone else in my life who had ever taken that road before.  So there I was, blindly barreling down an unmarked, uncharted road with no idea where it ended or the places I would travel through along the way.  I can tell you one thing.  It's a lonely road.  Sparsely traveled.  

I don't know what it is I'm searching for while I travel this road.  Some kind of fulfillment.  Another soul, perhaps, to ease the loneliness.  It's seems counterintuitive, choosing a lonely road in order to find someone to ease my loneliness.  And I can tell you, I am afraid.  Some days I wish I could just die already.  Because it would be so much easier to give up, to let God hold my hand and pull me along.  It seems so much easier than paddling against the current of my life.   

That road I'm traveling feels a lot like the edge of knife and I'm trying to find something to help me balance myself so I don't fall off.  And I feel compelled to rush along that edge instead of taking each step slowly and finding my balance before I take another step.  I mean, have you ever seen someone on a tightrope or a narrow tree that has fallen across a raging river?  The person crossing always seems to practically run across the bridge.  Running seems easier, doesn’t it?  That they are less likely to fall off?  Well, I think that’s my ignorance rushing me along.  My ignorance is my greatest enemy.  It’s like a road sign turned around the wrong way.  Or better yet, it’s like that person on the side of the road you ask for directions, only they don’t have a clue though they point and speak anyway, sending you on a wild goose chase.

I hate being lost.  I feel so out of control.  Lost and lonely.  Is there anything worse?  Probably not, but I have found a few things out along the way.  Though they are not right beside me on the road, I have a few champions who often help me out, shouting out directions or calling me up so that I have a familiar voice to coax me along, urging me to not give up.  It’s too easy to just plop down where I am and hang my head in my hands.  But when those voices call out to me, I sigh and pull myself back up.  It’s still not easy.  It takes a lot more effort to pull myself back up than it would have if I never stopped to begin with.  And I’m still a bit lonely, but knowing I have a few champions in my corner really helps motivate me, keeps me moving along, to find the end of the road and learn from the mistakes I’ve made along the way.  

I have my friends here in town who pat me on the back and reassure me that there are other agents to query, who might be interested in reading my full manuscript even though two have already taken a pass.  Yes, that’s right.  Super Agent X, the one I spoke of here, turned me down.  She was very pleasant, made a few complimentary remarks about strong elements to the narrative and had nothing bad to say except that she didn’t think she could market it as effectively as I would like.  At first, I thought, well I knew that was coming.  I thought I was prepared.  Boy, was I wrong. 

This second rejection on my full manuscript hurt much worse than the first since I had garnered it without any help from anyone along the way.  It was a crushing blow and it devastated me.  So much so that for the first time in my life—and that’s a not so short span of years—I was driven to drink, to drown my sorrows.  For the first time in my life, I took shots of hard alcohol.  Almost as if I was following in the footsteps of my poor misguided protagonist.  How ironic is that?  Funnier still, even though I drank at least half of that bottle of Silver Patron myself, I barely even caught a buzz.  There must be some lesson in there somewhere, right?  Maybe it’s that I should not allow myself to be thrown from the course, even if I am lost.  So here I am, picking myself back up, brushing myself off and craning my ear for those voices, the champions who occasionally shove me from the shoulder back onto the road. 

My husband is one of those champions, though he’s had his faltering moments, as well.  He tries to be stoic and support me even though he’s quite tired of seeing me cry.  He’s the one I have at home whom I see everyday, who gives me a smile and says, “Well, fuck her.  She’s not the only agent out there.”  I know it’s not easy for him either because he cannot be there beside me on the road.  He cheers me on from a distance, unable to steer me the right way because he has no clue which way that is.  But still, he is there. 

My true GPS is my friend, Lisa.  I have spoken of her many, many times.  She is my compass, my true north.  As I’ve said before, I would be completely lost without her, without any hope of finding my way.  She is the only one who also travels this road.  And while she does not stand beside me for the simple reason she is further down the road than I am, she does leave me breadcrumbs along the way. 

She’s been lost on the road many times and for a very long time, but she recently acquired a map in the form of an agent.  So she knows the roadblocks I am experiencing, the stalls and flat tires that slow me down.  She’s experienced them all.  And she cautions me, too.  She’s the big yellow sign that says watch for falling rocks ahead.  Sometimes I’m too busy keeping my head down to take notice and when I fall, Lisa is always, always there to pick me back up, brush me off, turn me back in the right direction and shove me along.  She is my truest champion and has never faltered even once. 

I know it is because she has been there and done that.  But it’s more than just a shove she offers.  Lisa is my one-man cheering squad.  She keeps telling me my book is great and could easily be on a bookseller’s shelf, that it has no problems to speak of.  She says it’s just a matter of finding that one agent who will become my next champion.  That I just need to persevere.  Keep on the road even though that road is long and winding, full of hazards and roadblocks that will slow me down.  She’s always saying she knows I will get published, that I am talented.  And coming from her, man, is that ever a compliment.  So Lisa is the reason that I hoist my big ass from the side of the road.  She’s the reason I keep putting one foot in front of the other, blisters, sprains, broken bones, and all.  She is my champion and I could not find my way down this long, lonely, winding without her. 

           God bless you, Lisa Regan!