On Starting Over (again)

I've mentioned in my past posts that I have a finished novel and have been querying agents for a few months now. I finally got some (minor) feedback from a couple of agents, and they both said the same thing: they didn't connect with my main character's voice.

So. (I've said that a lot lately) SO.

I decided to rewrite Wicked Illusions. Again. For the fifth time.

The past rewrites? ALL of them have given me a complete 180 turnaround on my manuscript, making it better. And better. And better again.

So when I sat down to write it this time, I started out excited. Like, *really* excited. I just knew that this time I would have the draft that would take me somewhere. But you guys, I this draft is NOT better. It's probably the worst thing I've ever written. It's like I've forgotten how write or something. I keep second guessing myself and rewriting sentences over and over on an endless cycle of sentence-structure-doom. I've lost all my prose, and instead of being happy to write about these characters, I find myself choosing to stare out the window or eat cheerios or scrub the toilet or ANYTHING but work on this fracking novel.

And I think it's because I've already said all I have to say about it. Sure, there a couple of scenes from the last draft that I've gotten better ideas for and know that I could make better. But rewriting it from Blank Page One? It's just not working.

SO.

I am going to try to fix those scenes I mentioned above, morph it into first person present instead of first person past (I've been wishing I'd done this for a long time) and then focus on making Lilly's speech less formal and making her more proactive in certain situations.

But I'm not rewriting the whole thing again. I can't. I'm giving myself one month to do these things, send it to my crit partner, then query the last five agents on my list (and one agent who has already read it, but has graciously agreed to read it again after the edits).  And then...

If it doesn't work out this time, I'm laying it aside. Come February 12th, I'm not looking at it again unless an agent requests it. Y'all, I LOVE this story. I've said it before. But I mostly love it the way it is, and I don't WANT to change the way it is inside my head. If my very best try doesn't make other people love it as much as I do, then that's okay. I want people to love it, but it's more important that I love it *the most*.

So here's to hoping that the *new* draft #5 (which will only differ slightly from draft #4) will be good. But if it has to live forever in my head and in the heads of the few friends and family members that have read it and love it, that's okay with me too. There are plenty of other stories waiting to burst out of this ole brain of mine.

Defending Twilight

I will unashamedly admit that I am Twilight fangirl. I have read all of the books (including the Midnight Sun excerpt on Stephenie Meyer's website) over and over until the spines began to fall apart, giving me the excuse to buy a second set. Yes. I have two sets. Plus the audiobooks and eBooks. Don't judge me.

I have gone to all the midnight premiers of the movies, and purchased all the DVDs. And every time one of the movies comes on TV, my husband groans because he knows we are going to watch it (for the eleventy billionth time). I even have all the movie soundtracks and scores. I say all this because I am confessing to you right up front that I love me some Edward Cullen, and I will shout it from the roof tops while waving my Team Edward shirt.

So many people bash Twilight these days. That's to be expected, because most things that go as viral as Twilight will always have haters. I've even heard a few people say that they used to like Twilight, but started to hate it when the pandemic began. But the question is, why do so many people hate it? Is it the "impossible" forever love? Is it Edward himself for not being "manly"? Or is it Bella, because she gives herself completely to Edward without regard for her future? Some people just don't like vampires, or they don't like Mrs. Meyers' version of vampires, or a myriad of other reasons. But I am not here to argue with the people who don't like it.

I admire the Twilight series mainly because of Edward Cullen. Every person in the world wants someone to love them whole heartedly. Not to say that my husband doesn't love the way I want him to, because he is my Edward-- but he is still a human man. He loves football. He loves to fish. And his brain is solely connected to a certain other part of his body, like every other man on this planet. Seriously, though. I love my hubby more than anyone in the world.

But I'm in love with Edward Cullen too. And Harry Potter, and Mr. Darcy, and Noah Dawson (the male protag of my novel). I think it's okay to be in love with fictional men, even if you have a real-life man of your own. Or EVEN if he's a hot mannequin, like the one that chick from the Axe commercials falls for.

                                 

Because that's what fictional men ARE FOR. They're there to keep you company when the hubby/boyfriend is away on a trip. They're there to comfort you when you and the hubby/boyfriend have a fight. They're there to make you swoon when you have no hubby/boyfriend, and ya need a little romance in yer brain. Sure, these fictional men are usually already taken by the female protagonist (Darn you, Bella Swan!!), but THAT'S THE JOY OF READING. You get to pretend to be somebody else for a few hours a day.

Okay, this post has taken a weird turn. I digress.

So many people bash Stephenie Meyer for her writing, for her morals, and countless other things, but all I see is a good love story and man who makes me sigh with swooniness. (See? He causes me to make up words.) In Stephenie Meyer, I see a woman who helped pave the way for me as a writer.

Before I started college, I used to devour every book I could get my hands on. But when the homework started piling up, I no longer had time to read or write. I found myself going into a reading hiatus, choosing mindless television shows in my free time instead. When my best friend suggested Twilight to me, at first, I was like, "Vampires? No, thanks." But she kept insisting that I would love it, so I bought it at CVS one day. I then read all four books in three days.

After finishing the series, I thought, "Hmmm... I miss reading. I miss writing. I want to write something like this." And so I immediately started writing the very-different-from-what-it-is-now first draft of my novel. I'd always wanted to write a novel, but I'd never actually pursued the idea until I read Twilight. (My novel doesn't have any vampires though, just in case you were wondering)

Also, while I was on a Twilight fansite one afternoon, an ad on the left side of the screen suggested that I  should read the book, Shiver. It sounded interesting, so I bought the book, and delightfully discovered the WONDERFUL Maggie Stiefvater. Her prose, carefully crafted sentences, and characters are... I have no words. "Perfect," might come close. She is now my favorite author, and the author I aspire to be like someday (in her classy & helpful blog posts and writing alike). And I may never have read Shiver, had I not been on that Twilight fansite.

And so many bands have been brought to my attention through the Twilight movie soundtracks. Inspiration through music is a big part of my writing process, and without Bon Iver, Sia, Sleeping At Last, and many others, some of the scenes in my novel would NOT be the same as they are now, had I not found these artists through their brilliant work on the soundtracks. (Come on, even if you aren't a fan of the movies, you HAVE to admit that the music is awesome on every single one).

So to bring this LONG post to a close, I think you should never, ever pass on reading/listening/watching something just because it's "popular," or because you heard that someone else hated it. There are so many things I would have missed out on in my life had I never picked up Twilight at CVS Pharmacy that day. I might not have even written a novel, and would still be bouncing around trying to pick a major in college and trying to figure out what the heck I wanted to do with my life.

So with this in mind, I am off to work on revisions for my novel (so that maybe one day someone will be buying MY book in CVS because their friend made them) :-)

No Kiss Blogfest Entry!

The "almost-kiss."  It happens in every tortured romance.

It's the want to kiss so badly, but knowing you can't. Or you can, but you're interrupted.

*swoons*

Every year on January 2nd, author Frankie Diane Mallis hosts a No Kiss Blogfest. What is this, you ask?

"This is when you get to write a scene or post one from your favorite books, movies, or tv shows that show the almost kiss-- the rising, crushing, excruciating, longing, tension that comes  when two characters get oh-so-close to kissing that you can just feel it, want it, NEED it....and then...they don't!"

CLICK HERE for the link to her blog. You should participate too! Even if you don't write, you can post your favorite almost-kiss scene from a book you love, or a movie clip. 


So anyway, I have decided to share my own almost-kiss from the novel that I'm seeking representation for, WICKED ILLUSIONS. (Check out my "Making Stuff Up" tab for more info on the storyline, if you please. :-D) Let me know if you like it! 

~

I could tell the boy was fighting back a smile. For some reason, he seemed to think that I was hilarious, and that infuriated me even more since I wasn't trying to be funny.

            "What the hell are you smiling about?" I hissed.

            "Tiger Lilly," he said softly, reaching out to entwine his fingers in mine. I suddenly felt deflated.

            His face turned serious and he bit his bottom lip like it tasted good— and for a split second, I wondered if it did. He reached forward to brush a piece of stray hair from my collarbone, and I shivered as his fingers burned like licking flames against my skin.

            "I want some answers," I mumbled. "I'm so confused and I just..."

            My thoughts swirled around my head like a tornado and I wanted to be angry, but I couldn't.

            The boy's brow crinkled-- he seemed to balance on the edge of something unspoken for a moment. He reminded me of someone, but I couldn't put my finger on it for some reason.

            "What is your name?" I asked. "So I can stop calling you 'the boy'."

            He ignored my question. "Lilly, I would love nothing more than to give you your answers. I would tell you anything that you wanted to know because I want to be honest with you and I want you to trust me. But I am searching for the same answers myself."

            He dropped his head to stare at the ground and I had to strain to hear him as he whispered to me.

            "I don't know why I am here, or how I even got here.  But I can't leave."

            He was trapped here, just like I was trapped in Ironbrook. Neither of us could run away-- My thoughts slammed to a halt, and I suddenly knew where I'd seen him. I wondered why I hadn't caught it before now. He was the boy from the newspaper article I'd read in Mr. Bowman's class.

            Where were we?

             "Is your name Noah?" I asked.

            He nodded and locked his eyes with mine, his own silent questions burning into me. He grabbed my waist gently and pulled me into his arms. His right hand lightly cupped my face as he brushed his thumb across my cheekbone, and suddenly, I couldn't breathe.

            He leaned in, and for a moment I thought that he was going to kiss me. His lips were so close to mine that I could feel the electricity sparkling between our skin. I wanted it to happen— my head clouded with a need to feel the soft curve of his lips against my own. His thumb traced down my jaw line, settling behind my ear with a whisper-soft touch. He gently pulled my head closer to his, and just before our lips touched, I remembered.

            "Noah," I whispered, my words hissing across his mouth. He exhaled in defeat and shifted backwards a tiny fraction. I fought through the clouds in my brain and the urge to forget about this and plant my lips onto his, but I knew what I had to do. I had to figure out a gentle way to tell him what he needed to know.

             But I could only tell him the truth, and truths like that could only be revealed for what they were; horrible. We stared at each other for a moment, neither of us blinking. I knew what I had to tell him, but it took me a while to build up the courage.

             "I think you might be dead," I said, finally.

And Another One Draws To A Close...

2011 was sort of a big year for me.

1.) In February, I finally decided to follow my dreams and focus on becoming a published author, and I changed my major in college (for the fifth time) to the one I TRULY wanted to pursue: Creative Writing.

2.) In March, I had my first experience with critique partners (there are some MEAN people out there. But I found my writing soul mate after many trial and error critiques. Here's looking at you, Amy!). And thank you, thank you, Natalie Parker, who was gentle but tough, and helped me fix all kinds of things this year. But I also realized that my novel kinda sucked, thanks to those mean people. So thank you mean girl who told me that "people don't talk in contractions". You were... right about some things.

3.) I then spent April through September re-writing my novel for the fourth time.

4.) On September 18th,  I finished my first full-length novel. 

5.) From September to October, I edited my first full-length novel.

6.) On October 4th, I freaking submitted my first full-length novel to agents.

7.) In October and November, I got TWO manuscript requests (with one rejection and still waiting for a response on the other)

8.) January-December, I LEARNED SO MUCH ABOUT THE PUBLISHING BUSINESS!  And I definitely learned things about myself as a writer along the way. For example, I write my best scenes when there's good music playing in my ears. Or that I can only plot with a paper and pen and can only write scenes by typing. Or that I CANNOT write on the couch (the words REFUSE to come to me there for some reason. Embarrassingly, I've written my best stuff in the bathtub)

So, I must say, 2011 was a very, very productive year for me. I learned that rejection is inevitable, and that it HURTS. I learned writing a novel with a beginning, middle, end, and all the stuff in between is HARD. But in 2011, I learned that I CAN write a novel, and I plan to do it again and again and again.

 I want to thank Jackson Pearce, Maggie Stiefvater, and Mary Kole for the infinite amounts of knowledge on their blogs!!!

And as for 2012??????? I have HUGE plans. :-D

What about you?

The New Pain Scale

I usually use my blog to post about my writing-related adventures, but there is something in my life that takes up a good part of my day every day lately - KIDNEY STONES.

Kidney stones are tiny-little-demon-filled-clusters-made-with-spikes-of-doom and I would wish them on no one. Except maybe Hitler. And the spider that lives in my house and keeps cleverly disappearing before I can smash it.

But kidney stones seem to just LOVE living in my right kidney. They love to reproduce and call all their friends and say, "HEY THIS GIRL HAS A ROCKING KIDNEY, COME ON OVER AND PAR-TAY WITH US!"

(Yes, the kidney stones are drinking out of red Solo cups)

 Only... I don't like having parties in my kidney. It kinda hurts.  But nonetheless, no matter what doctor-given tips I religiously follow, they keep fracking appearing inside my kidney.


So during my many trips to the emergency room in the past two years (plus 11 get-rid-of-the-giant-kidney-stone-procedures in the operating room), I have paid thousands of dollars to a certain hospital and kick-ass urologist, and I feel that I have the right to illicit one small piece of advice to all the hospitals in America:

The little smiley/frowny face charts that hang on your walls for the purpose of helping the patient to diagnose his or her pain scale is BOGUS. No one looks like this when they come to the hospital for extreme pain (as your #10 on your poster suggests):

(# 6 looks like he just ate some peanut butter)

So if you ever find yourself in the ER for something like a kidney stone, when the nurse asks you to rate your pain from one to ten-- and you want to yell that it feels like tiny monsters are trying to eat their way out of your body and that it's much worse than a FRACKING TEN-- you should pull out this handy little pain chart and desperately point to the last one:

Because if something the size of a peanut M&M is trying to force its way through a tube the size of a coffee stirrer, you will most likely be clawing out your eyeballs by the time you get to said nurse. Or rolling around on the germ-ridden hospital floor, bargaining with God in a language you didn't even know you spoke. Then you should do that hospital a favor and give the nurse your handy little pain chart so that the next patient can accurately diagnose their pain level. 

And then YOU have just saved the world! (or... you know... maybe not. But it's worth a try.) Hopefully you won't ever have a need for this pain chart ((unless your kidney is a breeding ground like mine is)) Either way, print it and put it in your wallet, right next to your insurance card!

You're Welcome.

Rejection + Query Help!!!

Since I've only gotten answers from half of the agents I've queried, I feel like I may be writing this post prematurely. But I am a sensitive soul. When I love something, I LOOOVVVVE IT. When something makes me sad, I cry over things like toilet paper commercials for days. ("The baby bear has pieces of toilet paper stuck to his butt? POOR BABY BEAR HOW SAD!!!!" *wail*) When something makes me mad, I'm all, *STEFANIE SMASH ALL THE THINGS!!!*.

So after getting 10+ rejection letters from agents, I was surprised to find a brand new emotion that I'd never experienced before: crazy-pants-off-the-rocker-self-- instead of just my normal, sad-burrowing into-my-blankets-and-crying-over-toilet-paper-commercials-self.



You know how you always laugh at the crazy people on American Idol who can't carry a tune in a bucket, and then go all "Y'all gon' be sorry! YOU'LL SEE!" on the judges? Well laugh now, BUT I KNOW HOW THEY FEEL. After re-reading WICKED ILLUSIONS last night, I fell in love all over again with my two main characters. I LOVE THESE FICTIONAL PEOPLE, Y'ALL. I love the story, I love the setting, I love the plot-- I want to tape it to my chest and hug it forever. (Okay, maybe that's a little extreme, but ya know, this thing is my BABY). So when I received another rejection letter this morning, I went full blown American Idol crazy on my iPhone.

"You just don't know what you're missing, agent! You will be sorry that you didn't want to read this manuscript, agent! You just lost out on LOVE, agent! YOU'LL SEE! I'LL BE GREAT!"

(And no I didn't tell said agent these things, because I'm not actually insane. Well, I don't know, maybe yelling at my iPhone makes me a little insane).

After realizing how loopy I sounded, I took a step back and gently laid my iPhone down, apologized to it, then went and made blueberry muffins to make me feel better. This whole querying thing has made lose my ability to see the bigger picture. I want the world to love Lilly and Noah so badly that I am forgetting that they don't know them like I do. It's obvious that my query letter is not working the magic it should, since I've only gotten 1 request (that I'm still waiting for a response from).

So. Ahem. I have gathered the courage to ask a favor from you.

*gives you virtual blueberry muffins*. Will you read my query letter and tell me how it could be better?

I've had several people look over it already, but I figure that if you are reading this, you are most likely a writer/aspiring author like myself, and could give me fresh perspective. The other day, I entered a query contest with agent Suzie Townsend, where she is going to respond to each of them personally, telling the writer why she didn't want to request more material (unless, of course, she DOES request more material). I haven't heard back from her yet, seeing as how she received over 600 entries (O_O), but I would love to get as much feedback as I can.

(And yes, I've moved onto writing a new manuscript in case this one doesn't work out. That's what everyone always suggests for taking my mind off querying)

 So anyway. Here is my query. Tear it apart! Be ruthless! (I have my blueberry muffins, so The Sanity is in tact. I promise I won't go American Idol crazy-pants on you. Hee hee)

Dear (Insert Agent):

Death is a run of the mill thing for sixteen-year-old Lilly Elliott. The town that she grew up in is more than just a little strange: its residents are trapped there. No one is allowed to move away from Ironbrook, Tennessee without the consequence of death. But that’s not all— milk spoils before its expiration date and plants wither for no reason. And most unexplained, at least one person dies every month at the hands of the suffocating black fog that no one can stop.

Lilly is accustomed to the weird things that happen in Ironbrook, though she longs to live somewhere normal. But when she accidentally brings a dead animal back to life, Things. Just. Get. Weirder. When a classmate reveals the truth to Lilly about who she is and what they both can do, Lilly is sucked into the world that goes on behind closed doors in Ironbrook— and things are never safe there. Lilly discovers that she has an ability that has been long buried deep inside of her— she can drain the life out of humans and keep it for herself, giving her the ability to live forever. But her loved ones—including the mysterious boy that keeps popping up in her dreams—are in danger. Will she be able to save them before their lives are stolen? And most importantly, will she be able to save herself… from herself?

WICKED ILLUSIONS is a story that explores the themes of family allegiance and the power of choice with splashes of magical realism, aimed towards a young adult audience. I think that WICKED ILLUSIONS is specifically different from most YA novels today because it touches upon the addiction of knowing that you are doing something wrong, but not knowing how to stop— which is something many teens face on a daily basis. WICKED ILLUSIONS will appeal to readers who've enjoyed BEAUTIFUL CREATURES and IMAGINARY GIRLS, and it is complete at 65,000 words.

I am currently working to obtain my bachelor’s degree in English with a concentration in Creative Writing from the (insert my university here. No offense, but the internet has too many stalkers).

On a personal note, I have read several books by authors that you represent, such as (insert respective books I've read here), and I thought my manuscript would fit neatly into the realm of your literary taste.

Per your submission guidelines, I have included the first (insert # here) pages below, and would be delighted to send you the full manuscript upon request. This is a simultaneous submission. I appreciate you taking the time to consider my work.

Sincerely,

Stefanie Jones




*Update 12/02/11-- Thanks to my wonderful critique partner, I rewrote my query letter AH-GAIN-- and so far, I've gotten another full manuscript request! 

RE: What Query Letters Do To Your Face

It's Halloween! So I decided to do a blog post on the thing that currently scares me most-- hold onto your panties, it's a doozy!!!-- my career. I know what your thinking: "Is this chick bonkers? The thing that scares her most is her CA- REER?" *waits while you roll your eyes*. But alas, it's true! It's not exactly my "career" that scares me-- it's the not knowing if I will be able to MAKE this dream my career. My actual current career is college student/bank teller, and I am green-in-the-face sick of both. ME WANTS TO BE A REEL RITER. And who holds my fate in their hands (or inbox, rather)??? The 50 literary agents that I've queried.

A few weeks ago, I sent my first query letters. My original plan was to send it out to my top 5 agents and wait the agonizing 6-8 weeks for a response. But then I started to have my normal little thoughts of self doubt. Me: "WHY would any of these agents want to represent ME? They represent people like Maggie Stiefvater and Veronica Roth and Suzanne Collins. WHAT was I thinking???" And that combined with me being the type of person who has-no-patience-and-wants-everything-right-now decided to send out more letters. I started with 20. Then 30. Now my count is at 50. That sounds pathetic, right? *is ashamed of my impatience*. So far, I've gotten 9 rejection letters and I'm waiting to hear back from 6 other agents who graciously answer every query letter. The rest only contact you if they want to see more material. WHAT KIND OF TORTURE IS THIS????? It's pretty close to the ancient Chinese torture method of tying somebody to the ground and letting bamboo grow through his or her body. (A nice visual for your Halloween pleasure).

After I got my first rejection letter, I shrugged it off. It was no big deal, right? There were plenty more chances for me to get requests, right? But then came the day of darkness. I woke up feeling icky, but had 2 tests at school and no sick days left at work, so I drug myself out of bed and forced myself to go. By the time I got to school, I'd gotten 3 rejection letters in my email. *started to feel kind of sad* I was pretty sure that I'd flunked both of my tests, and while waiting for another class to start, I got another rejection email. That's when the tears came. My throat was throbbing, both my ears were hurting, I was pretty sure that I had a fever, and on top of all that, I had FOUR rejections in one day. ALL THIS HAPPENED BEFORE 10 AM. I was crushed. But I went to work anyway, and when I broke down in tears in front of my boss, I was sent home to rest (to my intense relief (and mortification)). When I got home, I received ANOTHER rejection, and that was just IT. I took a big ole dose of cold medicine for my 101 degree fever and buried myself in my blankets, where I slept for five hours. When I woke to my husband bearing chicken soup and ginger ale, I checked my email once more to find another reply from an agent. I was CERTAIN that it was another rejection, but then I remembered: "HEY! This agent said that she only replies if she's interested in reading more!!!" I opened the email and sure enough, SHE WANTED TO READ MY BOOK. mmmmmmyyyyyyyyy bbbbbboooooookkkkkk!!!!!!!!!

(After popular demand) This was my face then:

Or maybe it was something more like this, since I still had a 101 fever:

So there you have it. After all that depression and anxiety and impatience, I received a manuscript request. I am still waiting to hear back from her, and of course my impatience has taken over again.

My face while I've been waiting:

And waiting:

And waiting:

And still waiting. But I know that there is some sort of light at the end of the tunnel, even if it ends in rejection too. If it does, I know that I need to re-evaluate my story and alter it as such. And my best friend keeps reminding me that Harry Potter and Twilight and such were all rejected multiple times, and that helps me keep my head up a little. :-) 

But to all of you out there who are waiting like me: I FEEL YOUR PAIN!!! I will keep you updated on my face as the rejections (and hopefully more requests!!!) keep flowing into my inbox. AND I am participating in NaNoWriMo for the first time, so I hope to have book two in the series complete by the end of the year! Who's doing it with me?? Have any of you experienced multiple rejection lately? I'd love to hear your comments so we can complain together! :-)