Starting this Thursday, I'm attending the NYC Pitch & Shop Conference. So, I've been putting my pitch together, think about my hook, and simultaneously working on a synopsis that was requested by an agent. All this requires big-picture thinking, and as someone who is prone to getting bogged down in the details, it was quite a stretch for me.
It ended up being a good thing. I'm now thinking about my novel in a more precise way, and when people ask me what I'm writing about, I can tell them without too many "uhhs" or "umms." I have a background in marketing, so one would think a plan for selling would come easily, but it's tough when it's your own work and you've been obsessing over every little detail for the past year or more.
The first day of the conference is devoted to perfecting your pitch and making sure your novel has all the elements for commercial fiction. I've heard that the workshops can be tough and blunt, but that approach works for me. The 3 days that follow are devoted to pitching your story to editors. I'm slightly nervous there, but I think it will be fine.
I'll be sure to blog and tell you how it went!
Monday, September 22, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Nothing But Drama
I hate to be blogging about the financial markets again, but it seems to be all anyone is talking about in my neighborhood. The moms (and dads) at pickup. My hairdresser. The taxi driver. My kid's piano teacher. Things are fearful on the Upper East Side.
And with good reason. A good 70% of the parents in my kids' classes are related, somehow, to the financial markets. New York City is not a one-industry town by any means, especially compared to where we last lived (Los Angeles), where all anyone could talk about was movies, movies, movies. I worked in advertising back then, and I always got the distinct impression that many of my colleagues would rather work for the film industry. But still, Wall Street is HUGE here, and it impacts lots of other kinds of jobs.
Like, oh, trying to raise money for non-profits, which is what I do when I'm not writing. I'm expecting fundraising to be slim this year. That's just my opinion and I hope not, because it *directly* relates to the programs we can run for disadvantaged kids.
Also, overheard on Madison Ave: a woman haggling with a pedicab driver. "15 bucks to go 12 blocks?! Have you SEEN the stock market today?" Anyway, I noticed the Dow was up today. Let's hope it holds.
On a lighter note, my dog has an enormous wart on his face and it's growing exponentially every day. It's bigger than a marble! I'm taking him to the vet tomorrow to see if we can cut that sucker off.
So while you are worried of the potential collapse of the economy, keep poor Truman in your thoughts as well.
And with good reason. A good 70% of the parents in my kids' classes are related, somehow, to the financial markets. New York City is not a one-industry town by any means, especially compared to where we last lived (Los Angeles), where all anyone could talk about was movies, movies, movies. I worked in advertising back then, and I always got the distinct impression that many of my colleagues would rather work for the film industry. But still, Wall Street is HUGE here, and it impacts lots of other kinds of jobs.
Like, oh, trying to raise money for non-profits, which is what I do when I'm not writing. I'm expecting fundraising to be slim this year. That's just my opinion and I hope not, because it *directly* relates to the programs we can run for disadvantaged kids.
Also, overheard on Madison Ave: a woman haggling with a pedicab driver. "15 bucks to go 12 blocks?! Have you SEEN the stock market today?" Anyway, I noticed the Dow was up today. Let's hope it holds.
On a lighter note, my dog has an enormous wart on his face and it's growing exponentially every day. It's bigger than a marble! I'm taking him to the vet tomorrow to see if we can cut that sucker off.
So while you are worried of the potential collapse of the economy, keep poor Truman in your thoughts as well.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
"Writes in Peoria" just doesn't have the same ring...
As some of you may know, my husband is in the finance business here in NYC. It's been a crazy couple of days here. And although I know lots of people at Lehman, my husband is not one of them. Still, scary times for the investment world. My husband has lived through a meltdown before, back when he was a young, bright-eyed analyst at Drexel Burnham Lambert. So showing up for work one day to find your stuff in a box is always been something that he's entertained as a possibility.
This crisis did prompt a discussion about the priorities in our lives. Number one by a wide margin: family. As much as we love living in Manhattan, we could be happy most anywhere, doing most anything. Just saying that out loud made me feel better--much more secure. Everything else can fall into place after that.
This crisis did prompt a discussion about the priorities in our lives. Number one by a wide margin: family. As much as we love living in Manhattan, we could be happy most anywhere, doing most anything. Just saying that out loud made me feel better--much more secure. Everything else can fall into place after that.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
I Love the 70s
What is it with me and the 1970s? Clearly it wasn't the most fashionable and pleasant decade in our history, so it's a bit of a mystery why I'm so obsessed with it in my writing. Over 1/3 of the novel I've just finished takes place in 1975 suburban Chicago. A short story I'm working on now is about a woman who was a Bunny in the Hollywood Playboy Club in the late 70s. And last night I was plotting out my new novel about a young girl with a neglectful mother. I'm thinking of setting it in...wait for it...St. Louis in 1978.
Some of my favorite movies are One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, The Godfather, Taxi Driver, and Annie Hall. if I told you I liked The Clockwork Orange as a teenager, you'd think I was some sort of violent weirdo, so I'll leave that out.
In the late 1970s, I was busy peddling my bike round and round our cul-de-sac while my mom baked casseroles inside or ranch-style house. Pretty boring upbringing. So what's up with my fixation on the grit and sexuality of the 70s? Hmmm...best not to think about that too long.
What were you doing in the 70s? Were you even born? Or were you, as my mom would say "in the milk river?"
Some of my favorite movies are One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, The Godfather, Taxi Driver, and Annie Hall. if I told you I liked The Clockwork Orange as a teenager, you'd think I was some sort of violent weirdo, so I'll leave that out.
In the late 1970s, I was busy peddling my bike round and round our cul-de-sac while my mom baked casseroles inside or ranch-style house. Pretty boring upbringing. So what's up with my fixation on the grit and sexuality of the 70s? Hmmm...best not to think about that too long.
What were you doing in the 70s? Were you even born? Or were you, as my mom would say "in the milk river?"
Monday, September 8, 2008
Spammers: *raises middle finger*
Seriously, ugh. I hate spammers. I'm not sure "spammers" is even the right term, but apparently some p*rn people linked some of my work to their pervy little fetish site. (I'm not using the "o" because I don't want strange visitors, not because I'm such a delicate flower I can't type "p*rn.") I know this because I received a Google alert about someone using my name, and when I clicked on it---yowzas. No thank you.
So now when someone googles my name, someone like, oh, A POTENTIAL AGENT, that's one of the hits. Big ladies doing naughty things. Please, please, please, don't think that's me, agent person.
I've already had that experience before. When I was in college, one of my dorm-mates had a dirty magazine and one of the featured women looked EXACTLY like me. (Well, not exactly, she was a bit more...bodacious. But exactly like me in the face.) So what does he do? Why, he makes copies and plasters them all over the hall, that's what.
How nice of him. Thanks, guy!
And, to be clear. That is NOT how I paid tuition.
So now when someone googles my name, someone like, oh, A POTENTIAL AGENT, that's one of the hits. Big ladies doing naughty things. Please, please, please, don't think that's me, agent person.
I've already had that experience before. When I was in college, one of my dorm-mates had a dirty magazine and one of the featured women looked EXACTLY like me. (Well, not exactly, she was a bit more...bodacious. But exactly like me in the face.) So what does he do? Why, he makes copies and plasters them all over the hall, that's what.
How nice of him. Thanks, guy!
And, to be clear. That is NOT how I paid tuition.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Maybe *you* can be my inspiration
I'm sure different writers have different sources for inspiration. Some people are more plot-oriented ("Hey, what would happen if a sailor discovered the ship he was on was full of ghosts?") and some, like me, much more character-driven.
New York may be a lot of things, but there is NO shortage of people around who are just a little "off." Or a lot "off." And I am drawn to people like that. Many of them are characters in my stories. Like there is this old woman who sits in a lawn chair on the toniest part of Madison Avenue, watching the people go by. She sits right on the sidewalk, pretty much in everyone's way, directly in front of the Carolina Herrera store. And she's all dolled up--dress, jewelry, makeup. She's there every day. I say "hi" to her, and I wonder What's her story?
She's next on the list.
Or there's the homeless dude who plays the harmonica around the corner from my building. He plays loudly. Badly. Apparently, that's his angle. But, he's a super nice guy. And he's made it into my novel. I'm considering giving him a copy once it's published (confidence! make it so!), but I'm afraid I'll hurt his feelings about the bad harmonica playing. Is it possible he thinks he's good?
Or, really, I can just take my notebook and sit outside if I am lacking ideas.
What inspires you?
New York may be a lot of things, but there is NO shortage of people around who are just a little "off." Or a lot "off." And I am drawn to people like that. Many of them are characters in my stories. Like there is this old woman who sits in a lawn chair on the toniest part of Madison Avenue, watching the people go by. She sits right on the sidewalk, pretty much in everyone's way, directly in front of the Carolina Herrera store. And she's all dolled up--dress, jewelry, makeup. She's there every day. I say "hi" to her, and I wonder What's her story?
She's next on the list.
Or there's the homeless dude who plays the harmonica around the corner from my building. He plays loudly. Badly. Apparently, that's his angle. But, he's a super nice guy. And he's made it into my novel. I'm considering giving him a copy once it's published (confidence! make it so!), but I'm afraid I'll hurt his feelings about the bad harmonica playing. Is it possible he thinks he's good?
Or, really, I can just take my notebook and sit outside if I am lacking ideas.
What inspires you?
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Home Again Home Again, Jiggety Jig
Ah, New York. How I have missed you. Despite the fact that you are crowded, and noisy, and sometime just a huge PITA, you are still all right with me.
If anyone would like to point and laugh at my feeble attempt at query writing, I've posted it for all to mock here on SYW. There's a reason they call it Query Hell, but hopefully a pretty polished query will rise up from the ashes.
Happy Tuesday, everyone.
If anyone would like to point and laugh at my feeble attempt at query writing, I've posted it for all to mock here on SYW. There's a reason they call it Query Hell, but hopefully a pretty polished query will rise up from the ashes.
Happy Tuesday, everyone.
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