Making it Yours

There is nothing quite like the high you feel after finishing a draft. The draft. The one that agents and editors have requested to see. Thirty thousand words that shoot you flying high in a cloud because people other than your family can read it. And then...

The query.

250 words.

250 words that will suck you into a hole faster than mud.

250 words that will force you to use the other side of your brain, which has slowly shriveled away as you etched out thirty thousand.

I don't have a prescriptive formula. I don't have worksheets. There are plenty of other people on the net who have great resources, like Elana Johnson.

But after twelve hours of staring at the computer and multiple drafts of drivelous puke, the query that worked had something different than the others. It stood out above them.

Because I made it my own.

Much to the surprise of both sides of my brain, I wrote my query the same way I wrote my book. Draft after draft. After draft. After draft. Draft. Draftdraftdraft.

No formula. No worksheets. Just me, showing them what they need to know.

So now I can go fly high again. Until I have to send them out this week. But that's another story...

How is your query process going? Are you ready to? Or thankfully done with it?

George is BACK!

Since many of you are new here, I have to backtrack a little.

If you've never seen the speech by Elizabeth Gilbert about having a writing genius, you should...so follow the link:

Elizabeth Gilbert on nurturing creativity Video on TED.com

Sorry I didn't make it look prettier and imbed the video, but I'm buried under 8 inches of snow with two kids stuck in the house and a dog who is suddenly too delicate to do his business because of, you guessed it, 8 inches of snow.

Though to be fair, when he raises his leg his privates are still buried 2 inches below sunshine, so I don't know that I could do my business with that kind of cold down there either.

Anyway...

George is BACK!

That is what I call my creative genius, who's been play hookie since this summer.

I've been struggling at my computer for a rewrite that's taking half of forever, always getting stuck at Chapter 8, waiting for George to show.

And he wasn't.

And he wasn't.

And he wasn't.

So I said, "Fine, George. I'm going to write whatever I d@*n well please." And I started to butcher my story. Total meat cleaver job, though I didn't go so far as bringing in a vampire.

And George showed up, "Fine. All right. So much for holidays and paid vacations. I'm here."

He's been working, maybe a little begrudgingly, ever since. All the way up to Chapter 14. Though I'm still trying to figure out just where he went that he got a paid vacation. Maybe he was visiting Elizabeth.

Anyway...

What do you do when your creative genius is playing hookie? How do you get him/her to show up and do their part of the job, whether it's pounding out a rewrite or getting your kids to do their homework?

Sa Whomped

I've been pitifully lacking about writing in my blog since returning home from the States. I will give you the equally pitifully excuse that I'm busy. Beyond busy.

Sa whomped.

But in between a boy throwing colossal tantrums, a girl full of middle school drama, a pouting, neurotic dog chewing off his nails, and a car that can go but doesn't stop, I do try to make an occasional foray into re-writing my second novel.

I've got writing goals. I've got ideas. I've got desire. I even have a plan.

What I don't have is time. Which is sort of irritating, because I had time all summer when I didn't know end from up about my story.

I'm ready to go, go, go with rewrites. But when I'm forced to one very slow 30-60 minute nightly session, I want to toss myself on the couch in a drama moment. Or chew off my nails. Or throw a tantrum and whomp the sa out of something.

Because I want to finish my book.

I realize that since I'm now...older, I don't really get to act this way. But am I the only person out there, writerly or otherwise, that has such a problem with patience?