2009: Trial By Fire

By AC

Dec

29

So, in many ways, 2009 really really sucked.  In 2008, I felt I really worked hard, and at the end of it I was faced with a tough decision: tough it out in Scotland, despite knowing that my money was gone and if I didn’t get a job, the choice would be made anyway, or come home and take responsibility for myself, and have the Lap Band surgery to get my diabetes and weight on track and under control.

Obviously I chose the latter, but it sucked.  It sucked that I felt like my Scotland experiment had failed miserably and I couldn’t make it work, and it sucked admitting to myself that I had a serious problem with both my weight and diabetes.  It really sucked.  And then I moved home, and freelance writing started to fail me; I’ve had serious money problems all year (hasn’t everyone?) and then I started working at a retail job that I don’t love.  The road to the Lap Band took so much longer than I thought it would, but it did happen, and once it did, it’s only right now that I’ve been feeling good about it.  It has sucked up to this point.  It’s been frustrating, awkward, painful.

I’ve been lonely this year, and raw.  I feel like I’ve been torn up, torn open, finally facing all of this awful weight stuff, and it’s been really tough.  Writing about this stuff for the web has been difficult and cathartic; it’s tough to face down your issues and do it in front of a live audience.

But the past few weeks, it’s definitely felt like this has all been for something, and I hope, as I do every year, that next year is the one where I gain traction.  I just want to move forward.  I feel like this year, more so than 2008, I really understood what hard work meant, and how much more intense, frustrating and ultimately rewarding it is when it’s so deeply personal.  I got my blood sugar (somewhat temporarily) under control, I have lost a total of 40 pounds (more like forty five by my home scale, but I’m trying to go with the doctor’s scale), and I did squeak a completed novel in under the wire.

So this last week or so has been a tremdendous week, and it does mean that I’ll be starting 2010 on a positive note, but this year has been toooough.  Definitely the year of trial by fire.  How was your year?

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Worry and Songs

By AC

Sep

3

Since I’ve been back from Philadelphia, it’s been a weird few days.  There’s been a lot of personal drama going on, and more than distracting, it’s kind of exhausting.  As there is a lot more personal drama coming up (starting with a family member’s surgery coming up, and followed by some very personal drama), this doesn’t bode well for the future.

Besides that, my brother is gone from the house and cooler weather has set in, which means my productivity (when I’m not distracted by other things) is through the roof.  Sweetness.

I’m also uncharacteristically worried.  The DIARY manuscript is with two, seemingly very interested agents at the moment; they’ve both been really positive so far, and they both had to wait a little bit for it and are still interested, which I’ll take as a good sign.

But I’ve also never felt so worried.  I haven’t had the best string of luck lately, and I’m scared to death that this just won’t happen.  The problem is that it takes so very long to build up, months to years, and then, in one swift email, it’s all over and I’m out of luck.

Could it happen again?  Could both of these agents pass?  Yes.  Absolutely.

The real rub is that there aren’t many other agents on my list.  And beyond that, one of the agents that has it is one that I REALLY want to represent it.  One that I’ve been submitting to for a WHILE.  I guess it’s just that with every rejection, the field of possibilities narrows a little, the stakes get a little higher, and it’s been a long time now.

We’ll just set that aside, though.  When we were down in Philadelphia I wrote another song, and I think I really like this one; of course, the trouble with songwriting is that to get a decent emotion/imagery/theme down, I’m having a hard time faking it.  The most personal thing in this novel might just been the song lyrics of the fake band.

But, that’s writing for you.

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Why Virgil Was Wrong

By AC

Aug

12

Audaces Fortuna Iuvat.

Fortune favors the bold.

Virgil was totally and completely wrong.  Fortune doesn’t just favor the bold, fortune, and the writing business, favors the unbelievably persistent.

The agent that I was dealing with for the past six months passed on my manuscript today, after revisions, after a lot of back and forth, and after holding exclusivity for the entire six month period.  Here’s what I know about this now:

1.  Don’t give exclusivity.  Almost immediately after agreeing to the exclusivity, several other agents expressed interest, and I felt like I was only hurting my chances at getting published, and had the agent not passed I would have felt very wonky about signing with her having not given the other interested agents at least a fair shake.

2.  I think it really is important to get an agent that gets your work.  This agent was awesome–we worked very productively together, a chemistry I would like to find again with another agent, but within my novel is a careful balance between a glitzy, glamorous world of fashion and brand names and the dark, upsetting element of sexual abuse.  She didn’t believe that balance could coexist, which is what the novel is predicated on, so we weren’t going to get much further in any event.

3.  I still have other agents that are hopefully still interested in looking at the novel, despite the intervening time, and I’ll send it to both of them at the same time and hopefully one of them will be interested in committing to it.

4.  Naturally my fear is that the floor will fall out and not one of these agents will be interested, and sadly, that really may happen.  I’ve known for a long time that it will be a hellishly long road to get published, but it seems that the whole deal is not about how bold I am, but about how persistent I will be.

And I will be persistent.  Hear that, world?  You’re not done with me yet.  All in all, it takes me about as long to shop a novel around the industry and virtually exhaust my options as it does to write a novel, so if, God forbid, Tarian skids into deadsville, then by that time I’ll be ready to try another go-round with Arianna.  I’m not giving up.

I’m over getting old
Maybe it’s not my weekend but it’s gonna be my year
And I’m so sick of watching while the minutes pass as I go nowhere
And this is my reaction to everything I fear
‘Cause I’ve been going crazy
I don’t want to waste another minute here



So take that, Virgil.

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