On a Positive Note . . .

The expedition to finding an agent continues. All totaled as of this writing, I have submitted about twenty “queries” to agents all across the country. I would have included international agents but many of them only handle queries from their own countries. Can’t blame them. Out of those twenty, I have already received four rejections. Remember, Anne Frank’s Diary of a Young Girl got fifteen rejections. I’m almost one third of the way there since I have four firm rejections. Yay me!

Today was a bit different, however. I have been busy much of the day and finally got around to my e-mail in the early afternoon. There, I found a note from one of the agents that I queried saying, my manuscript has been passed along to the second level of consideration for publication. It took about twelve minutes of me bouncing around the room and floating to the ceiling in elation before my feet touched the floor once more. OH – MY – GOSH!!!!!

Once I found my feet firmly attached to the Earth again, I thought about what the note was saying and what it was not saying. First, I don’t know how many “levels” of consideration this company has before it decides that a contract is proposed. At any of these succeeding levels, a rejection may happen. This may end up being my fifth rejection – tangential thought: You can “Take the Fifth” or “Drink a fifth” and both makes you feel good – back to reality.

Regardless of the result of this next step in my publicational pursuits (Yes, I just invented the word “Publicational”), I am going to continue to write. There have been five purchases of my books on Amazon. I owe it to that audience, as small as it is, to continue the story. It will not be complete until the end of the third book. Maybe, just maybe, by the time I finish that third book there will be professional representation and major publishers involved. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have to travel the country for a book tour?

I don’t know the future. The Good Lord does not consult me on what is planned for my forthcoming life. Hey, three years ago, if you told me that I would be a published author, I would have said, “Fbwtptptptptptptptptpt!” (For some reason that is not in my spell checker. I hope I spelled it correctly.) But look at me now. I am published. People have purchased my books. I presume they enjoyed it because they bought the second book, too. And now an Agent is passing my book up the ladder for publication. “All right!!” is my only reaction. Let’s keep the momentum going!

Thank you for the privilege of your time.

It’s All a Matter of Time

It came to me one night just as I was falling asleep. At the end of my second book, I had neatly brought the group of humans who had been existing on a very earth-like timescale on their planet into the new time calculation system of their new home world. (Of course, their DNA was “magically” altered to match the new system. But that happened in Book One.) Not only that but I had also declared that the gestation times of the Giants and the Humans were similar in length, nine months, while the Dwarfs and Gnomes had a twenty-four month pregnancy. Hey! They’re different species. They can differ. I was happy. Then my eyes flew open as I realized that I had made the declaration that all people would add one to their age on the day of Springstart – regardless of when in the “year” they had been born.

The year in the new world had forty-eight months. Each season had twelve. That would mean that if a human family under that system got pregnant each “season” that they would have four children at the age of “One” when Springstart came around again. OH – MY – Goodness!! I have to figure this thing out. I can’t have the humans proliferating at that rate in this new world. That would cause many major problems. We don’t want problems. We want solutions.

So, how do the Giants do it? They have always lived in this world and they have a nine month pregnancy. They haven’t overrun the ecosystem with food demands or grasping for power. There has to be a simple solution! Something that makes perfect sense so that the peoples don’t even have to think about it.

But then again, I have to think of the audience that I’m writing to. My main goal is to have readers in the eight to fourteen age range. Would they  get all concerned about this? Would they have sleepless nights worrying about the peoples getting together to exterminate the overly prolific humans? I hope not. These are supposed to be fun and exciting stories and not a debate about the eco-hardship that human population spikes can cause a planet.

And I think that is where I’m going to leave it. I don’t think it will matter to my readers what the gestational implications of the four species of people in this land pose. They will take it for granted that people have babies. Babies are cute and very messy. And they will roll their eyes at the ones who pose these nonsensical possibilities.

Whew! I guess I dodged a bullet on that one!

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This is Dedicated to the One I Love

Songwriters: Lowman Pauling / Ralph Bass
Dedicated To The One I Love lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Carlin America Inc

One of the things I struggled with as I prepared to finish my manuscript is the dedication page. Since I am a beginning writer, there aren’t the agents and publishers and other writer-friends to use as fuel for this sort of thing. I am left, therefore, with the struggle of finding someone to fill my dedication page. Personally, I have looked very closely to my life and found those who have made such a significant difference in my life.

For my first book, I kept is simple and dedicated it to my lovely wife. She encourages me and supports me in so many ways when it comes to my writing. I could not have a better partner in this life. Thus, my dedication reads: For Dana, without whom there would be no purpose. When I finished my second book, I struggled a little. I had already dedicated a book to my most precious benefactor. I know I could do it again but it just didn’t feel right to me.

The whole thought process stretched me a bit. I began thinking of friends and former friends, parents, siblings, and the like. There was only one person who has impacted my life as much as my lovely wife — my son Sean. He came to my life in an unusual way. There was nothing that physically connected us. He was my wife’s son and our hearts just bound themselves of their own accord.

So, I knew who would own the dedication but I also wanted to speak of how it had come about. I wanted – nay I needed – to tell the world what he meant to me. Then, the muses injected me with poetry and out came a short verse that explained it all.

For my son, Sean,

It is not by blood that parenthood came to me.

The bindings of our hearts were there for all to see.

What is this thing that’s stronger than a gene?

A gift — for God doth intervene.

Sean went home to God on February 26, 2018. Though he is not physically here, his impact on my life has been tremendous. I still feel him when he hugs my heart and I get verklempt and I still am amazed at all he taught me about being his dad. Miss you, Sean!

Thank you for the privilege of your time.

Getting Lost is the Cure for Being Lost

When I finished the second book of my trilogy, I was excited and happy to have completed the full story of the peoples who were getting together and learning to live with each other. After the brief satisfaction came the dreaded question: Where do I go from here?

I honestly had no clue regarding the third book of the trilogy. But wallowing in the void was not an option for me. We, my wife and I, had come to the weekend where we would be visiting a friend who lived very rural area that was surrounded by water. The island had everything from a very touristy shopping area to very pastoral scenic vistas.

It was exceptionally good for all of us. Lucky for me, I was able to see and do things that were on my unwritten bucket list. It was quite enjoyable driving down a dirt road that was only one car wide. The adrenaline rush of hoping we don’t see a car going the other way is amazing!

Little by little, the things we did and the people and animals we encountered chipped away the dreaded block to the third book. What I would write and how I would move the characters began falling into place. We got lost a few times. The GPS did not always work. Sometimes when it said “You have arrived” we just saw a lot of trees and not the grocery store we wanted.

Being lost there became an adventure. Adventure translated as fun. Fun began to relax and dislodge the blockage. The dislodging became the revelation of the final run to the goal.

I entered the weekend as one who was lost and had no idea where to go and how to get there. Allowing myself to get lost in the weekend enabled me to find the foundation of the story that would wind this trilogy to its conclusion.

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What now?

It happened on Sunday afternoon. I had started typing what I wasn’t sure would be either the Epilogue or just the next chapter. Each of the races were located where I intended them to be at the end of the book. The colorful personalities of some of them had shown themselves to be a touch deeper than originally exhibited in the book. The last thing that I wanted to do was to get one of the main characters together with one of the main characters from the first book of this trilogy. So, I guess that it was an Epilogue from the beginning.

Regardless, the second book of the trilogy is now finished. My personal next step is to read through the text and make the minor editing corrections. So, I’m inserting punctuation, correcting quotation marks, and changing certain word orders. I presume that most writers do this sort of thing. It’s tempting to scrap whole pages of text but I resist the urge. All-in-all, I’m satisfied with what I’ve written. Some of the characters have surprised even me! Who would have thought that they would do the things they’re doing?

And that brings me to the question of what I do now that I am finished with the second book. I know what you’re thinking: “Write the third book!” Yah, I’m gonna do that. But there’s this whole thing about getting an agent who will help me with the publishing of this trilogy. This is a journey that contains more frustration than I ever thought possible. I currently have over ten queries out for the first book of the trilogy. The worst part is the waiting.

One would expect that the rejections would be most wounding. My experience says no. I have been sending queries since the first of April. I have three rejections. I began the process with the thought that not everyone is going to like either the genre or the topic. So, for me, three rejections out of thirteen queries is not bad. After all, according to Emily Temple back in 2017, Stephen King’s Carrie was rejected 30 times and Anne Frank’s Diary of a Young Girl was rejected 12 times. Hmph. I guess I’m in good company, then.

So, What do I do now? That’s easy. I write the third book, of course. I also continue seeking the right agent to support me. That agent is out there. He or she hasn’t read the manuscript yet but I know it will happen. Look out, world! I’m going to wow you with my stories. You may not know it, yet, but it will happen.

Thank you for the privilege of your time.

The Best of Both Worlds

As a writer, there comes a freedom that other people do not have. This is mainly because only the writer can live in his or her head. I just finished a good book (I highly recommend it) that was based in medieval times. The characters, the scenery, the peasant life, it was all so wonderfully woven throughout the book. Ms. Dickerson, judging by her bio, loves the Medieval times and thus, benefits from two worlds in her brain.

The “other world” in my brain revolves around a place where I am the creator of all the peoples who inhabit it. As their creator, I get to see these peoples deal with the good and the bad that happens to them. I have the best of that world. If I don’t like something, I merely rewrite it to my liking. This is a skill that I often wish I had while dealing with the trials of the “real” world where I happen to live.

In this real world, I concentrate on the goodness that I encounter. I see the struggles that people experience and how they overcome the challenges. I admire, for example, Vivian Lord who, despite her youth, caused a change in the toy industry. Then there is Greta Thunberg who, despite the challenges of Asperger’s, has caused a world to pay attention to the climate. People like Vivian and Greta are some of the best of this world and I am proud that I am part of it.

And then my mind wanders into the other world that I have. I look at it and I want it to reflect the good things that I find here. So, I create people who do similar things. It could be a girl of twelve who can speak any language she encounters. She can even understand and be understood by animals. And guess what, the animals just want to live their lives just like we do. Or I create a boy of fourteen whose brave heart endeavors to mend the rift between two cultures. Then there is the young girl who was adopted into a good family and fell in love at a young age. How her heart holds onto the dream that her love will return from his misadventure and come to her. They are the best of my other world.

And that is the writer’s life, having one’s head in two worlds, seeking the best in both. When one looks for the best, it is found. I find the best in this world, my wife, my life, my books. I find the best of my other world, my characters, my countries, my peoples. I hold all of the close to me and they enrich my being.

Truly, I have the best of both worlds.

Thank you for the privilege of your time.

The Shakespeare Syndrome

I see myself in a very convoluted light. The act of “getting the pen to the paper” has never been a problem for me. Even though there is no pen and no paper here when I write, the thought is the same. Ideas flow through my mind and I commit them to the “electronic” paper (please note that 95% of what I write here uses completely recycled electrons). Enough fantastical ideas have streamed out of this brain that I am currently almost finished with my second book.

But I worry. It’s the worry of most new authors, I think. How do I avoid The Shakespeare Syndrome? What did you say? You haven’t heard of the Shakespeare Syndrome? Well sit back and let me tell you all about it.

I first encountered the Shakespeare Syndrome in high school. As usual, we had to read Romeo and Juliet. About halfway through, I realized that with all the high schoolers and college students buying Shakespeare’s books, he would surely be making close to nine figures today. What a boon for someone who has been dead for four hundred years!

And, thus, I diagnosed the Shakespeare Syndrome: To be nominally accepted as a good writer in his lifetime and become the most sought author four hundred years after his death.

According to the citadel of information, Wikipedia, Shakespeare shares the number one spot for selling fiction books with Agatha Christie. Both reportedly have sold two billion books. Even at a royalty of 25¢ per book that would give Bill Shakespeare $500,000,000 to toy around with. He could have bought Stratford instead of just a house in Stratford.

And that is my prayer, that I do not get The Shakespeare Syndrome. While the idea of having millions of youths buying my books in 2421 is attractive, I would rather benefit from more immediate royalties. Wouldn’t you?

So, yes, I am an author. I write for an audience of children between 8 and 14. The stories take place in a fantasy world where different species – Giants, Gnomes, Dwarfs, etc. – live together. It is not a utopia. They have their own problems just like we do. But my strong characters can be youths who find themselves in challenging situations, just like many of today’s youths in the real world make good adult decisions in difficult situations.

My first book is available on Amazon. My second will soon follow.

Thank you for the privilege of your time.