Archive for December, 2009

A day or so before Christmas I woke up with pain in my right wrist.  I don’t know where it had been wandering previously, but it came upon me sleeping in the night and pounced.  Now the bottom quarter of my hand, from the muscle beneath the thumb to the outside of my wrist, hurts.  It isn’t so very bad, most of the time, rather like the throb of a bruise when you brush it up against something.  But when I move my hand just right I’m rewarded with an invisible bayonet to the wrist. 

The most frustrating part is my complete inability to divine what I did to cause this.  I lift weights several times a week, but I went through the motions again a few days ago and none of those movements causes the pain to flare up.  Maybe I slept on it weird, but if so I didn’t wake up with sudden pain and stiffness.  Rather, the pain settled in over a period of a few days, as if taking a deliberate test drive before deciding to make the final purchase.  It really has me quite perturbed.  As a twenty-nine year old who exercises daily, my physical aspect is usually in good working order.  (My mental and emotional aspects are much dicier prospects.)  So bits and pieces of myself going wonky for no perceivable reason has me, you might say, quite put out.

May have to go to a doctor, which is never a good thing.  Doctors are the ones who tell you you’re going to die, and I firmly believe if I avoid such pessimism I’ll hum along in perpetuity, thank you very much.

Other than the wrist, Christmas went well.  Celebrated quietly with my immediate family (mother, brother, sister-in-law, and nephew), or as quietly as is possible with an almost four year old hopped up on sugary sweets and new toy fumes.  Ate way more than I should have, so I’m moving to two-a-day workouts (just running until the pain in my wrist migrates to some other poor innocent).  Which means I should be running now, not typing—which is strangely demanding with a hurt wrist.

Oh, a measure of good news to share—I’ve been accepted as a member of the Utah Children’s Writers, a group of professional kids’ writers in my state.  It’s a way for pros in the area to exchange news and information, keep in touch, and the like.  The group was started by Rick Walton (I believe), a real expert on writing for children and something of a patron saint for many up and coming writers I know. 

Major news?  Not really.  But it’s always nice to admit how pleasant it is to be in good company—this sneaky pain in my wrist excepted.  Vicious little mystery.  I hope it grows tired of me and leaves tonight to ambush someone else in their bed.  Better than go to a doctor who’ll tell me I’m not immortal.

I could just post the link, but I really want to type this myself because I really wish I’d made this up, for many reasons.  I didn’t though, which makes it both terribly funny and horribly sad:

“Kids do things like this and it’s out of your control.  You can do the best you can as a mother.  Everyone makes mistakes.”  This was said by the mother of a 4-year-old boy who was found wandering a Tennessee street with a cup of beer in hand and wearing a dress.  Apparently, he’d been pilfering gifts from neighbors’ homes.  I’m not cruel enough to give this poor mother’s name—that the story made no mention of the father casts an even worse light on him, in my opinion—but if you want to see Time’s original quote go here.

L.T. Elliot wrote the following in response to my post about waiting:

I hate to sound preachy but have you thought of submitting elsewhere? A year’s a long time and unless you have some specific agreement with these individuals, I would consider sending out your MS to other venues. You’re a good writer, Clint. I wouldn’t wait to see if other fish take the bait.

First off, thank you very much for the compliment.  As for thoughts on submitting elsewhere, yes, I have considered it seriously.  What I’ve decided is to do my best to have my cake and eat it too.  I think the book is a terrific fit with this particular publisher, and that combined with a strong recommendation I received make me think that my chances with this house are about as good as they come in this industry.  For these reasons, I’ve wanted to respect their exclusivity for the time being—at least among publishers.

What I have done is submitted the book to agents.  That doesn’t count as a multiple submission, so no breaking the exclusivity I promised.  Meanwhile, if a really good agent falls for the book before a contract offer is extended, I’ll be able to discuss the next step with them.  If they believe that submitting to other houses is the best step, I’ll do that; if they want to approach the current publisher and seek a deal, I’ll do that.  If, on the other hand, the publisher does offer a deal first, I’ll contact my top agents and tell them that an offer is on the table and I’d be interested in exploring representation.  Either way, it works well for me.

So that’s the situation in more depth, L.T.  I don’t have all my eggs in one basket, exactly; rather, I’m trying to cook them two different but complimentary ways.  It’s just a fact of the business that even when you’ve got things on multiple burners—which all writers should, if they’re serious about publishing—you find yourself waiting a lot while the pots simmer.  Four of my top agents have had my package for a long time now, and the publisher’s had my book for an eternity.  None of it’s empirical evidence, but the trends are looking good.  It’s just one of those times when I have to let things finish cooking, no matter how hungry I am.

Perhaps I should say starving?  Famished?  Or maybe follow Shakespeare and use the classic “in a consumption.”  Well, take your pick, whichever screams to you more loudly, “I HATE WAITING!”

One year ago this week a little card arrived informing me that a publisher had received the manuscript I’d sent (upon request) the week before. I have not heard back since. This, as those in the publishing game know, is worthy of celebration and simultaneous cursing like a sailor recounting his latest and messiest divorce.

You learn to wait when you seek to publish. You may not wait well, but you wait. The only alternative is to make something happen yourself, and since you cannot make a publisher accept your book, you’re left with many less constructive alternatives, many of which tend toward the tragic and might get you on wanted lists and, eventually, the evening news. To avoid this, every writer cultivates a second style in addition to their writing style—a waiting style.

Some writers wait by refusing to wait; instead, they work. I try this one, but can’t manage to squeeze my life so devoid of empty seconds that obsessive thoughts have no room to blossom. I always manage to think of new ways that someone could reject the most brilliant book ever written in the history or alternate histories of this world or any sufficiently interesting variation.  (This is the way I think of all my books as they’re out as submissions.) 

Other writers go back to their work and continue to “revise.” In actuality, they’re mostly self-cannibalizing, churning in and over themselves and their work so incessantly that all vigor and color is gnawed away. It’s like sticking a Christmas stocking the washer over and over again hoping it will get just that much cleaner. Not only is this questionable in regard to efficacy, but after the two-hundredth washing that cheery red will remain in memory only. And as the publishing world often works according to its own special time (it’s called Continental Drift Standard), you’ll have plenty of time to churn that story over so excessively that no life or breath remains.  As styles of waiting go, this is about the worst.  Don’t do it.

Other writers I know chose the distraction route.  Whether sports or movies or diving into a book very unlike what they’ve written, they try to replace thoughts about rejection with other interests.  In theory, this should work great.  In my case, the practice has proved problematic.  Not only do such distractions work only momentarily on me, but they usually produce a measure of guilt that I didn’t use the time productively (see the first waiting strategy of diving into more work).  If you can apply this one, I envy you.

 While there are many more styles, I’ll mention only one other common type: the social waiter.  These writers attend writers meetings, critique groups, or simply pepper their colleagues with lamentation about how agonizing it is to wait for that next rejection letter, like a toddler playing peek-a-boo for the twentieth time who still manages to hope that this time, finally, ugly uncle Chester really will be gone when the hands disappear.  Other writers refer to this as commiseration; normal people call it making a pest of one’s self.

In my seven years or so of serious writing (about six of which were spent submitting for consideration of publication), I’ve learned a lot about my waiting style.  This past year of a publisher sitting on a requested manuscript has greatly refined my style which, according to my current understanding, is about as follows:  As I wait I work, first strategically, then busily, then grumpily, then desperately; then a stupor hits me and I wonder if I am mistaking busyness for achievement (an old whip crack of John Wooden); then I realize how much time has actually passed, and I glory in my inevitable achievement, which includes attributing the delay to the publisher buying time to gather an advance big enough for me to buy my own Hawaiian island; then I remember it’s more likely they’ve forgotten about me, misplaced the manuscript, or so covered it with coffee stains they can no longer remember who sent it; then I try to jump in my blender; when the spatial impossibilities of my effort finally hit me, I settle down, remember the hundred plus rejections I’ve already survived, and recall that they have not—as yet—been added to; then I remind myself I do not know the end from the beginning, that good things can and do happen, and that I sent out a truly good book; with that ballast for stability, I get back to work—which only occasionally I combine with pacing, gnashing of teeth, and periodic outbursts of alternating threats and prophesy, both delightful and dour.

That pretty much covers my past year.   May the next see my waiting style undergo much less refinement than it has this year.  

Oh, and if the publisher hasn’t gotten back to me by this time next year, expect to see me on some creatively tragic story on the evening news.

See, told you.  Pretty cool, huh?

This fantastic red dragon is the work of a talented boy named Tysen (for those who can’t make out his name at the bottom right of the page).  He is a fourth grade student at Bell View Elementary, which I visited last month.  When I told the students that they could give their teachers pictures of dragons to be sent to me I thought I might get a few, but I never expected this!

It’s too bad that somewhere on the journey from Tysen’s talented fingers to my scanner the dragon’s right wing was torn off and lost with the top of the page (I would loved to have seen this wyrm’s full wingspan).  Despite that and a few small tears, the pictures is still hugely impressive.  Truly a terrifying dragon.  Look at the mane of spines and the scaly ridges at the joints.  I’ve never seen a red dragon, but I assume when I do it will look pretty much like this.  I only hope the fire isn’t aimed at me.

Tysen, if you read this, be sure to keep drawing.  You’ve got a real talent.  And you know, I can always use more pictures of dragons, especially if they’re green….

And that goes for any kid out there.  If you have a drawing of a dragon or a story about them—or any magical creature, or anything else, really—and would like me to share your talent with the world here on my blog, then tell your teacher or school librarian or principal or parents.  Tell them to invite me to your school so that we can share stories and silly pictures (only schools I visit know how silly), and so I can see the wonderful things you’ve created, and, if you want, show them so the rest of the world can see them too—right here.

I was near a Barnes and Noble that I don’t normally pass by (may have news about a signing in the next day or two) and took the opportunity to drop in and sign their copies of GDC.  Or I should say I signed three of their four copies.  The fourth copy, you see, was bound both upside down and backward in the cover.  I believe the official term for such a copy is “defective”.

I would use a different term, something in the realm of “completely awesome”.  I don’t know why, but seeing that odd, contorted version of my book gave me a million different happy feelings.  I immediately told the CRM—Community Relations Manager—that I would very much like to trade one of my boring, correctly bound versions of the book for their “defective” copy.  They kindly agreed.  So I’ll head back there tonight to switch books. 

I can’t wait!  Merry Christmas Mr. Me!

*****

Today I received a very cool package in the mail: a fantastic drawing of a dragon by a talented student at Bell View Elementary, where I gave me first assembly.  And I do mean fantastic.  You guys are going to love it.  As soon as I can figure out how to scan it and upload the image, I’ll share it.  With the image I’ll give the student’s name and grade, and I’m sure any and all compliments would be appreciated—and certainly deserved.  Just wait until you see this dragon….

*****

Finally, a good cause for a good friend: Stacy Whitman, my original editor at Mirrorstone, is starting up her own small press right here in Utah.  That alone is enough for me to support her and make this post worth your interest, but it isn’t all there is: the press is dedicated to cultural and ethnic diversity, particularly in children’s and YA fantasy.  In my own writing I tend to use a variety of cultures and ethnicities instinctively (likely because of my many positive and inspiring experience with minority students), but that isn’t exactly common across the genre.  There’s a place in the market for such books, and Stacy is determined to fill that through Tu Publishing.  Here’s a message she sent for those who want more information:

If you guys are on Facebook, you might have already seen me posting about the small press that I’m starting, Tu Publishing. If you’re not, I’m working on starting a small publishing company that will fill a gap in the market, to publish multicultural fantasy and science fiction for children and young adults. Our website is http://www.tupublishing.com, if you want to know more about our mission.

To get started, publishing books takes a lot of money, even on a “shoestring” budget. That’s why I’m doing a Kickstartercampaign—to raise enough money to get started and give a reward to everyone who donates. If enough people donate $5, or $15, or $20, we’ll be able to reach our goal. For every donation through Kickstarter, the donator gets a reward: bookmarks, early copies of books we publish, books donated to libraries, etc. For a really big, pie-in-the-sky donation, I’ve even promised an author visit. So they get something for their money, and with enough people banding together, the project can become a reality.

The project has had almost 3 months to run. So far, we’re up to $4031 of $10,000, with just under a week left. So we’ve got some ground to cover—no money exchanges hands if we don’t reach $10,000.

Here’s the link to the Kickstarter page: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1586632165/tu-publishing-a-small-independent-multiculturalhttp://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1586632165/tu-publishing-a-small-independent-multicultural

It’s completely secure—payments are handled through Amazon payments.

With my job experience and expertise, I know I can make this company a success if we can reach this goal. With $10,000, we’ll be able to start acquiring books, and then after we’ve gotten a book or two out, I’ll be able to approach a bank for a Small Business Administration-guaranteed loan. (That $10,000 will be supplemented by my own income and perhaps a few small investments from other people—the $10,000 is seed money, basically.)

Anyway, I just wanted to make you aware of this, in case you hadn’t seen it on Facebook. I know money is tight everywhere right now, so if you can’t fit it in your budget, I understand. But if you do have a few bucks to spare and think this is a good cause—making sure that there are more fantasy and science fiction books out there that feature characters from all backgrounds—you’ll get something back for it.

Another way you can help is to blog or Twitter or tell your Facebookfriends about it, giving them the links above. The more people who know about it, the more people who might have an extra $5 or $20 to spare.

Thanks, everyone! Happy holidays!

Somehow, linguistics and language issues—particularly semantics—manage to infiltrate every book I write.  I don’t mean in application, but in commentary: I actually make statements on my thoughts and feelings about how language works in my stories.  It isn’t something that I seek; rather, I’ve come to consider it one element of my style, these passages of metalanguage (there’s a lot of metafiction in some, too).  What, you want an example?  Okay, well, in my never-to-be-named-on-this-site-until-sold children’s fantasy (which a publisher has had in entire manuscript form—requested—for one year this week), I have a fairy who majored in Homo Sapien Semantics and Semiotics or, as she explains to my confused protagonist, “What humans call stuff.” 

And just a few days ago a linguistic element popped into my head for a potential sequel to the above-mentioned book.  Can’t go into much detail, but the situation involves a great leader who is given magical powers and protection due to her station, and who later abandons her post.  In this crisis, someone has to replace her, only he doesn’t receive all the abilities and protections that came with her official position.  His interim position comes with a kind of runner’s up set of powers, headlined by—don’t know who’ll get this, but I love it—magic stupid powers.  NOT stupid magic powers.  

I was going to write just what I mean by the distinction (for those who, quite reasonably, aren’t aware of how the six—I think it’s six?—level hierarchy of English adjectives is structured), but I think I’ll make you wait for the book’s release.  That may be, I don’t know, about four years.  I guess that makes this a teaser.  Well in advance.  Well, well in advance.

Anyway, does anyone have linguistic issues spontaneously pop up in their creative writing?  You know, commenting on the complexity of article use, literally, by referring to the fact that ”a 360 degree angle” is correct and ”the 360 degree angle” isn’t for the first introduction of said angle?  (It has to do with that whole definite/indefinite thing…)  If so, I have only one thing to say…

How weird are you?

*****

In other news, when I visit schools I offer to post drawings of dragons that kids do here on the site.  I think the first such drawing is in the mail (the educator swears she’s already sent it).  When I get it, I’ll post it here for everyone to enjoy, along with proper attribution for the student.        

I know, I know, it’s been a while since my last post. I’ll have you know that I wasn’t just lazing about. I wish I had been lazing about, but I wasn’t. In the odd moments I found between doing everything else and being strangely sick for a single day, I wrote and posted another essay on writing for members of the site. It’s called In the Beginning… It’s about beginnings.

So, if you’re interested in three characteristics I try to imbue in every beginning I write, check it out. If you’re a member, just head to the Essays section. That’s right, I know; if you aren’t a member then there is no Essays section. You should take this as a message from the cosmos that you are dangerously deviating from the will of the universe, which is, I am confident, that you become a member of my site. To do so, ignore that stupid Subscribe via RSS or Subscribe via Email box that I’ve never been able to make work. Instead, go to my Home Page, look to the bottom left, and follow the instructions. When you’ve finished the process your penance for being wayward will be over and you will see the Essay section and all its hidden knowledge is now available to you in reward for your returning to the ways of the right.