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Category: writing

Back in the trenches

(and everything else I’ve been up to…)

Quiet is an optical illusion. It’s where the busy work and disappointment happens between happy announcements that supply the little hits of dopamine that keep me going and are worth sharing.

It’s been a busy summer, though you wouldn’t know it from my feed. I finished up the polishing on The Handwriting Artist at the end of April, before my arbitrary, self-imposed deadline of May 1. Things went a little crazy when the Inklist was released right before Thanksgiving of last year, when The Handwriting Artist won the thriller category in the Writer’s League of Texas’ annual manuscript contest. When the Inklist was released and the winners were announced, I had five literary agents reach out to express interest and ask where I was in the process, in addition to the agent who judged the contest and gave me a meeting as part of my grand prize, who also said he wanted to see it when I was done.

SIX agents were interested in ME?! Those are some good odds, right? I followed up with all them the day after I finished, and they all asked to see either the full or partial manuscript. Yes, friends, my very first day of querying, I had four fulls and two partials out.

I fell into this trap after I was a finalist in the manuscript contest in 2023, in another category. “My manuscript is a prize winner before it’s even finished? Finding an agent will be so easy!” (Narrator: it was not that easy.) Only this time, I already had six agents on the hook. It had to be easier this time around, right? RIGHT?

All four full requests ended a very complimentary rejection. I have yet to hear back on the two partials. And that’s how I find myself back in the same place I was in two years ago, back in the trenches doing cold queries along with the rest of my author battalion and my prize-winning manuscript.

I bought a last-minute ticket to the Agents & Editors conference earlier this summer, when it looked like those six agents weren’t going to pan out. With my WINNER ribbon on my conference badge and my name in the program, I got a few nibbles over $17 plastic cups of wine, but no bites.

But like I always say, all I can control is the work.

So what do you do while you’re waiting for your yes? You write something new.

I’ve finished a satirical romance and a satirical thriller, so now it’s time for a campy horror novel. I’m a little over 12,000 words in, so the clay is starting to resemble something that looks like a story. It’s still rough, but I am in love with the premise and leaning hard into the setting – it takes place in my college town in a karaoke bar that used to be a roadside porn shop. It’s a ghost story of sorts, or at least, that’s what I want you to think.

Wish me luck in the trenches while I write my next prize-winning manuscript! It’s rough out here!

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One Hundred Rejections

Winning this year’s Writer’s League of Texas manuscript contest has been exciting, to be sure, but I’ve also had to temper my excitement by remembering 2023. That year, I entered the contest in the romance category with my almost-completed novel Don’t Give Me Grief, which was listed as a finalist in the contest.

I thought to myself, this is amazing! Here I am going into the market to query in a wildly popular genre with a manuscript that earned an award before it was even finished. This was going to be SO easy! I even had an agent (who I met via the WLT Agent Symposium) express interest in seeing the whole thing when I was done, and told me to send it to her when I was. She was the first agent I queried back in November of 2023.

Fast forward nearly two years, and that manuscript has now garnered its 100th rejection in the market. It’s had its share of interest, with a full manuscript request from two agents and three different small presses, but it was ultimately a pass on all of them. The refrain, when it doesn’t come in a boilerplate form rejection, is that it’s very hard to stand out in the market right now. Yes, contemporary romance and romantic comedy are popular, but only among the authors who are already standing out in that crowded space.

So what do you do when your manuscript fails to land and amasses its 100th rejection?

You write another one. You keep querying. Go for 200 – why not? Every no is just one step closer to a yes. All the other platitudes. It’s hard to not take the rejection personally and keep going, I won’t pretend it isn’t. Every time I opened a followup email after sending a full manuscript I was SURE was going to be an acceptance, I was disappointed to the point of tears. But I kept going. I’m going to keep going.

And I’m going to write the last 20k-30k words in the novel that won in the thriller category of this year’s manuscript contest, so I can repeat the same delusion about this one’s query journey being a piece of cake.

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A discourse on discipline

TL;DR – it’s been a shitty year but now I am writing a new book.

Oldest child and rule follower that I am, self-motivation and self-discipline have typically not been an issue for me. This year, however, has been a very notable exception. Going into 2024, I was writing consistently, had a thrice-weekly gym class routine I rarely strayed from, and was consistently querying agents and publishers for my latest completed manuscript.

Then in late January, I started experiencing tailbone pain, which led me into a medical mystery I wish were fiction, and not something I’m still living with 10 months later. It’s a long story and I’m still writing about it, but what it meant for me was that the discipline of writing became all but impossible. My entire adult life, I have always done my writing at night, especially after my twins were born, because between kids and a full-time job, it was the only time I had.

The year crawled by, with much of it spent waiting for surgery and very little writing. I finished a couple poems and a couple short stories (and got one published – yay!) but told myself it wasn’t worth starting a new novel until I had dedicated writing time where I could sit every day without pain. When surgery and recovery came and went, and I was still experiencing pain, I felt like I might as well just give up.

There’s a bookstore I love in Bastrop, TX called The Painted Porch. It’s owned by Ryan Holiday, a guy who’s made a career out of studying and espousing Stoic philosophy. I’m not a big non-fiction reader, and even less of a self-help reader, but I stumbled across Ryan Holiday’s books on my library’s Libby app and decided to check one out because A) all my holds were still showing a nice long wait B) I love The Painted Porch and C) because I enjoyed Philosophy 101 enough to learn more about the Stoics.

The book I checked out was called Discipline is Destiny, and I’m not exaggerating when I say that this sort-of-self-help book drawing on principles of Stoic philosophy changed my life. Holiday hooked me immediately with the “clean your desk” message as the very cluttered desk where I used to write (before my year of pain) stared back at me. I expected to hear about the discipline of the most famous Stoic philosophers and elite athletes (and I did), but did not expect to hear about the discipline behind two of my literary heroes – Toni Morrison and Joyce Carol Oates – who got up early every morning to write before they went to their day jobs and took care of their children.

Y’all, it never even OCCURRED to me that instead of waiting until I was pain-free and energetic enough to write in the evening after I got my kids off to bed, I could just get up early and write in the morning when my mind and my body were fresh instead. It sounds crazy now that I needed a book to tell me that, but it’s a testament to just how rigid we can get in our thinking and our daily routines that we keep doing the same thing even when it’s not working for us – a trap I fall into more often than I’d like. But as I recently learned, it’s a core tenet of Stoic philosophy: we can’t control our circumstances, but it’s our duty to control how we respond to them.

My getting back to discipline is still a work in progress. Faced with the prospect of getting up to write or getting an extra hour of sleep, there are still mornings where sleep wins. And sometimes I will sit and stare at the screen for a good 8 minutes before writing a single word. Some mornings I only manage to write a handful of sentences. But I’m doing the work, doing my best to avoid the snooze button, and I’m now closing in on the 3rd chapter of a new novel because of it. Discipline is a practice, and the more I do it, the better I am at it… especially with a clean desk.

Maybe there’s something to this self-help genre after all… but I’d still rather read ghost stories.

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I’m in my book friends era

Happy Super Bowl Sunday, Taylor Swift in Japan Day, and International Day of Women and Girls in Science (however you celebrate – I don’t judge).

I’ve devoted far more brain matter than is appropriate to thinking about how much changed for me between 2022’s Texas Book Festival and 2023’s (back in November). In 2022, my latest book had just come out a few months prior, and while it was still having its moment in the sun, I didn’t feel like I was. I barely knew anyone in the local book scene, and I was only able to get a launch party at the same bookstore that had had me a decade before, when I was brand new to Austin.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to BookWoman for having me, but walking between the booths at the last TX Book Fest, it struck me how different of a place I was in. My book had gotten a modest number of good local reviews and I had inched my way into the local circle by showing up at events and forcing myself to talk to people (and buying their books… lots of them… I need shelf help). Instead of gawking at the lineup of authors and cautiously approaching booksellers, I was waving to them and chatting them up like old friends, because that’s what we’d become over the past year since my book came out – friends.

For most of the last eight years, I realized I’d been in my “mom friends” era. So much of my social life revolved around my kids (and let’s be real… a lot of it still does) and being on the board of Austin Parents of Multiples that those were the only circles I was regularly in. Not that I was particularly adept at making mom friends – it took a lot of awkward minivan and Costco talk at windowless room birthday parties to find my people. Before the twins started Kindergarten, I was squarely in a niche mom friends era in which I rarely interacted with any parents who didn’t own a double stroller.

Before that, it was the “college friends” era. Instead of pizza and cake and Urban Air birthday parties every weekend, it was weddings and bachelorette parties and housewarmings. I mostly dodged the bridesmaid bullet, largely due to avoiding the whole sorority thing. I somehow found time to hang out with my now-husband in sports bars between working full time and doing the world’s weirdest freelance writing gigs. (Okay now I know how – I didn’t have two tiny humans who relied on me to feed them and bathe them and put them to bed when I would normally be in a sports bar).

But NOW… my kids are older and a increasingly more self-reliant. I have a sliver of life outside of school pickup and twin stroller walks where we take up the sidewalk AND the bike lane. Are all my pants still Costco pants? Yes – because Costco is the best and waistbands are the wort. But most of my t-shirt repertoire is now bookstore and book festival finds.

This past weekend, I attended a much-needed Zibby Books Retreat after convincing myself A) It was an appropriate use of my Indie Author Project prize money (see previous blog post) and B) I had enough solo-attended book events under my belt that I wouldn’t feel too out of my element talking about books with a group of 60 strangers. We weren’t strangers for long. There’s something about a mutual love for books that instantly bonded me to these new book friends, and made me feel like I was my own person outside of my husband and kids. They also appreciated my strong bookstore t-shirt and Costco pants game.

Of course, I still have some long-lasting friendships from my college friends era. I still camp once a year with my twin mom era friends. I went to dinner and a show with my kids’ best friend’s mom last night. They are still my people. But when my next book comes out (TBD… don’t ask), I won’t be the outsider at the Texas Book Festival anymore. I’ll be surrounded by the book friends I’ve made and am still making in my book friends era, because they are now my people, too.

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I’m in an anthology! And it’s pub day!

Today is pub day for my second book this summer… sort of. I didn’t plan on this coming out just a week after my novel, but it happened just that way. Art in the Time of Unbearable Crisis is an anthology about just that, how we create art and deal in the midst of a crisis. Some people chose, naturally, to write about COVID, social justice issues, or climate change. My piece is about our experience in the 2021 Texas winter storm (it’s toward the end of the book).

It’s probably the most political thing I’ve written publicly, but it’s not about politics (and neither am I). It’s about being decent to people in the face of political differences. It applied to the situation then, and it still applies in light of recent political developments, which I need not enumerate here. We are all better when we greet each other with empathy and acknowledge that everyone’s just an imperfect human trying to do their best. The internet has made it too easy to forget the humanity of those we disagree with.

She Writes Press will donate all royalties earned on this book to World Central Kitchens, a non-profit that feeds victims of natural disaster and war (most recently in Ukraine). The book is available for purchase everywhere books are sold, but I of course recommend getting it on Bookshop where you can support your local independent bookstore!

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It only takes one rejection…

Writers deal with a lot of rejection. Years, sometimes decades of rejection. And when they discouraged, their fellow rejectees bolster them up with the same refrain: It only takes one yes.

Sadly, the inverse is also true. It only takes one stinging rejection for all the impostor syndrome to creep back in. I’m lucky in that while I’ve had my fair share of manuscript rejections in the past year, I’ve also had a lot of yeses. This year, I’ve had 3 essays published, a poem, a flash fiction piece, and my third novel is crawling along to its June 2022 publication date.

I recently entered a contest for both fiction and poetry for an all-writer voted publication. Everyone who submits also votes on the submissions, the best from each round move on to the next one, and the top 30 submissions make it into the final issue.

I entered round 1 with 3 of my best poems and a short story I haven’t touched in years, thinking that as a serious, multiply-published author, surely I could crack the top 30 with both my submissions.

Well, I didn’t. My short story finished 131 out of 221, and my poems finished 147 out of 239. I didn’t even make it past the first round, and I read some very weak submissions in the first round. I felt immediately dejected. How could I possibly expect to publish and have any level of commercial success with my novel if I couldn’t even have a short story in the top half of a contest? It wasn’t too late to call my publisher and stop the train and go back to the drawing board. It’s not like I deserved that yes!

But that’s the thing about pity parties. They never last long. And I read the nice feedback I got from the writers who read and ranked my submissions in round 1, and all the criticism was totally fair. And prose and poetry are both incredibly subjective, as they should be. In round 1, one writer ranked my poems the best… another, the worst.

Instead of feeling sorry for myself and listening to those negative thoughts about not being good enough, instead I’m going to be happy for the winners because (the ones I read and voted on anyway) their work was really good. I’m going to look forward to reading the final issue with the top 30 stories and poems because I bet it will be amazing. And I’ll keep grinding away at my work and submit something even better next time.

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2019 in review, author goals for 2020!

In 2019, I had only one writing goal – it was to get serious about submitting Community Klepto for publication and secure a book deal for it. On January 1, I hit the ground running and sent three query submissions. Then, I finally marked an item off my to-do list that had been on there for FAR too long; I dumped GoDaddy and (with the help of my husband who is way smarter than me) stood up hosting for my website myself and gave the website a little facelift. Before the end of January, a publisher wanted to see the full manuscript. Before I knew it, I had my first offer from the same publisher. I thought to myself, holy crap! How could it be this easy?!

Well, it wasn’t. The proposal was with a hybrid publisher who, while selective, required a pretty hefty investment on the part of the author. As attractive as the offer was, I said I wasn’t ready to commit to it yet. I told myself that if 2019 came to a close and I didn’t have any other prospects, I’d go back to the table and take the deal. Over the next 6 months, I sent over 20 more query submissions, one of which I didn’t hear back from until the last day of the year, and it was one of the three I’d sent on January 1! (That’s got to be some record.)

In July, I got a response back from another publisher. This one was local, a small but traditional independent press. The acquisitions editor and I sat down for coffee (outside, in August, in Austin… it gets hot in August in Austin). We discussed possibilities for Community Klepto, shook hands, and decided to move forward! This year, my primary goal is of course to put in the work to bring Community Klepto to market. We’re still editing, and there’s no date yet, but I’m excited about working with Lit City Press to make this book happen! Outside of Community Klepto, I have the following goals:

  • Write one poem per month. Even if they’re terrible Vogon poems. I only wrote one all year in 2019, and I need to do more.
  • Read 20 books. The first book I finished this year was Educated by Tara Westover. Technically I started it in 2019 but I’ll count it.
  • Publish a poem or short story in a literary journal. I did a decent amount of querying in 2019, but my material is so old, I need to get more works into the pipeline. I haven’t been featured in a journal since 2015!
  • Write a new short story. I have no idea what I’m going to write about – maybe returning PJ Masks toothbrushes to the grocery store because they were the wrong character.

Lots to come in 2020! Hope y’all will be along for the ride…

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What is this “book” thing the hipsters keep tweeting about?

While I was procrastinating further on writing the pitch for Community Klepto tonight, I decided to go through my Twitter list of publishing people. It’s a list that I’ve been building ever since I joined Twitter, which Twitter tells me was 7 years ago, so most of the accounts I’ve followed on that list about about as old as I am, in Twitter years. As I opened profile after profile, URL after URL, I had waves of mixed emotions as I saw the following:

  • 404 Not Found
  • Domain for sale
  • We have ceased operations
  • We are no longer accepting new submissions

I admit that between switching careers and giving birth to two children on the same day, I haven’t kept up with all the happenings in the publishing industry like I maybe should have; but at the same time, I think I can outline the trajectory of the 7 year Kelly’s-Twitter-publisher-list timeline easily enough:

  1. E-books happen. Some publishers resist all changes. Others pop up looking to cash in early.
  2. E-books gain popularity. Some publishers still resist all changes. Others adapt and innovate. Shitty books get self-published.
  3. E-books soar. Some of the publishers who resisted all changes die. Some who adapted and innovated succeed, some don’t. More shitty books get self-published. Readers start to realize most of the free books they downloaded are shitty.
  4. E-books sales to fall off. The resistors shout that they were right, even as they continue to publish marketable turd sandwiches. Authors of shitty books stop making money on their shitty books. Some of the innovative co-op ventures find they are no longer viable.
  5. Hipsters make physical books cool again. Resistors decry TOLD YA SO. Everyone else is saying Now what?

Now what. Some publishers have died horrible deaths because they refused to innovate. Some died because they were counting on a fad to sustain its growth indefinitely. This is a sad but predictable reality. Some of weathered the storms, adapted where they needed to, and are doing really cool things now. This makes me happy and excited to see what’s next.

I’m not going to go so far as to say that e-books were a fad. I mean, I still read them so they must be cool, right? And I like the papercut and smell of an old book as much as the next hipster. But in a world where evolving technology is changing every industry, publishing is not immune. Their battles for market share aren’t over, even if the e-book is losing ground. The future may be uncertain, but I am certain that as more traditional publishers broaden their horizons (and re-open their wallets), it’s a good time for me to be diving back in.

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