A Frayed Knot

In response to a recent query, an agent wrote that she was afraid not. Aside from the old joke about a rope that’s refused service in a bar, goes outside, has its friend tie it in a loop and unravel its end. It goes back in and the bartender says, “Aren’t you that rope I threw out of here. The rope says, “I’m a frayed knot.” But back to the agent: It seemed an odd thing to say. An agent never admitted to being scared from my query. She was probably just being flippant in her use of an idiom. What she should have said was, “I believe, regrettably, that the answer is no, or “Unfortunately, no; I regret that that is not so.” Technically, the way she phrased it, it means she is not afraid. But no; I’m afraid not. So it’s a “no?” I’m afraid so. The full sentence should have read, “I’m afraid I can not,” something she probably did not want to admit. I had hoped she would be not afraid, but ‘fraid not. In the words of a John Michael Talbot song, I’d offer my dear agent this advice, “Be not afraid.” However, since much of my writing has taken a dark turn lately, maybe it was a subconscious compliment. My words may have actually scared her. Maybe I had written my query too well. But, then again, maybe knot.

What do you think about this fearful word play?
Have you ever been scared by a book?

Thanks
Jim

Rejection

So, you're a writer? Undoubtedly you've received a rejection letter. (unless you're some type of wonder-child) Maybe if your writing exhibits some hint of promise, you've been lucky enough to receive a personal rejection, and if you're real close, you might have even received some type of constructive criticism or a short note of advice. However, most rejections are the standard "form letter." Believe me, I've had my share. Before the end of 2012, I received my 145th rejection letter, 99th on this particular project.

I've studied how to write a query, with its various required parts. Less than a page including genre, word count, hook, pitch, and author bio. It takes some work to put one together. But no, this is not about the parts of a query. This is about the parts to a form rejection letter.

Part 1- "Thanks for offering us your project." This is the part where they subliminally tell you how great "they" are and how smart you were to try and get them to represent you. It's the "We know we are soooo great" part of the rejection.

Part 2- Right after letting you know how wonderful they are, comes the "No thanks. You Stink." Some subtle, others not so much. They say things like;
"I cannot take on projects unless I feel strongly about them. I'm sorry to say that it didn't happen with this one."
"I am afraid I must pass."
And the most common. "It's not quite the right fit for our Agency."

Part 3- "This is subjective. Now, please go bother someone else with your dreams of becoming published." Typically, they say, "This, of course, is just my opinion and others may feel differently." Duh! Thanks a lot.

Part 4- The final part is usually the, "Good luck when you find someone else to bother." There are variations on this too. There's " We wish you every success." or "I hope you find a great agent who will represent you with the enthusiasm that you deserve." If wishing me good luck actually gave me any luck, I'd be published a dozen times by now.

Finally. If you have received any of these common form rejections, take some solace in the fact that the dear agent at least had the courtesy to copy and paste. One recent rejection I received consisted of a mere three words. "Not for me." Wow! That took some thought. I should feel lucky they took three seconds to trash my hopes and dreams.

Have you ever received a form rejection? Did it contain all four parts? Did it contain anything unusual? Anything funny? Let me know. I'd love to hear from you.

Jim

Writer as Artist

In an e-conversation, a friend of mine, Doug Sasse, asked if I've noticed the similarities between writing and drawing?

This really got me thinking because, as an artist and a writer, I've often pondered this.

In both mediums you are telling a story. You put thousands of little marks on a blank surface to produce a final product. Both forms take hours to produce. You know what they say, "A picture is worth a thousand words." But there is one major difference between the two. With writing, the reader spends hours, days, sometimes weeks absorbing your work. On the other hand, with a painting or drawing, you spend hours and hours producing the work and the viewer usually gets the entire story in a few seconds. Sometimes they might spend a minute examining the work, but never much more.

Continuing our conversation, my friend clarified his opinion on the subject with the following.

Both mediums start with an idea or a subject. You sketch in broad strokes, blocking in the structure. Structure is important in both mediums. Each element has to not only stand on its own, but work with the other elements to be successful. I think they call that Gestalt. Drawing uses different values of light and dark, just as does character development. But then once the basic structure is in place, you refine, refine, refine, until you've completed all of the details. Drawing is a right-brain exercise; writing is, to a large extent, also a right-brained exercise, requiring intuition and creativity. In the end, both mediums create something artificial that, ironically, enhance its creator’s ability to see the world, while providing the viewer a greater appreciation of reality.

I'd like to thank my friend and fellow Nebraska Writers Workshop participant Doug Sasse for initiating this dialogue and giving my cause to think.

What do you think?

Jim

Hawk or Squirrel, Hunter or Hunted

This morning I noticed a squirrel standing tall in the middle of my yard. A few seconds later, a Red Tail Hawk swooped in and tried to catch it. The squirrel leapt into the air and avoided certain death. The Hawk landed a few feet away. After several more attacks, and a gymnastic-like presentation of leaps and flips by the bushy-tailed rodent, he escaped into a nearby crabapple tree. The Hawk flew up, landed in the tree, and bobbed its head about looking for the its breakfast. The squirrel escaped by jumping branches through several neighboring trees, leaving the hawk spinning its head in bewilderment and hunger. The hawk eventually flew off and landed on some nearby wires to scan for its next target.

At first I associated with the squirrel; dodging the attacks of life's obstacles. I smiled when the furry little fellow escaped to safety. But as I watched, I realized I was more like the bird on the wire, searching for success and often coming up empty. If he gives up, he'll go hungry. Would God let the Red Tail starve? With no choice but to keep scanning, he'll continue searching for the opportunity to succeed.

What about you? Are you more like the squirrel or the hawk.

Jim

Wild Wednesday Leads to Thoughtless Thursday

Great story flowing onto the paper Wednesday night, so much so, that I stayed up past my usual 12:30 AM self-imposed curfew. The story intrigued me. I couldn’t stop right in the heart of the action. Finally, after two in the morning, the Mountain Dew wore off and I came to a stopping place that would be easy to pick up the next night. The next day went swimmingly until late in the afternoon when having only four hours sleep hit me. I made it through until last night when I sat and stared at the computer screen. I knew what I wanted to say but it just didn’t make it to the keyboard. A vacant spot the size of a tennis ball occupied my skull. Something was missing. I slept my usual six hours last night, so maybe tonight will be better.

Wow! What a Morning.

Today I spoke with God. I confronted demons face to face. I traveled forward and backward in time. For a short while, I visited another planet. I witnessed the death and rebirth of planet Earth. …all before breakfast. Do you want to hear about the rest of my day?