What are you going to be for Hallowe’en? (If you’re going to dress up.)
(EDIT: I think I’m going to stick with the aging-hippie look, although I did get a neat-looking iridescent cape that’s probably so not fire-retardant that it would probably LOOK at a flame and turn to dust . . . so I could be a vampire hippie.)
What are you giving out? I’ll be answering the door with Tootsie Roll Pops and glow-in-the-dark packets of M&Ms.
Didn’t get to plug in my orange lightshow tonight, though, because. . . .
Our electricity was off ALL DAY today. They came to restore power at 10:02 PM after I called with my Sad Tale of Woe for the third time. It was MY fault. Hubby was quite pissed. I don’t know if I’m going to tell y’all about it. Finally, I called (for the fourth time) the outage number and told the person who answered that I had an elderly person who sleeps under oxygen in the house and that I really needed to know if they really were going to come sometime before midnight to fix things so that I could take her to a motel if not . . . somehow, I got a person who was easily guilted and/or was actually human, and he radioed the truck to come over and fix things. It took them only a second. There was a misunderstanding on my part and a dropped ball involved (not literally). *sigh* Everything I do is wrong.
Hurry: while the entry I’m talking about is still on the “top,” go read literary agent Jeff Kleinman’s “Reasons I Reject.”
He writes, in part:
[D]on’t come across as belligerent, or clueless, or desperate. Sound confident and comfortable – quickly and succinctly tell me about you and your work, and when you’ve done that, stop.
That was me. Desperate. A know-too-much who had too much to say about the various books and where they’d already traveled. Not submissive and potentialy too demanding. I think that’s how I blew it with the Big-Time Agent for _Camille’s Travels_ on the phone.
Genre unclear. […] Go back to your bookstore and make sure there’s a clear, identifiable place on the shelf for your book, and be sure, in the cover letter, to tell me what it is. […] [T]he book needs to be true to what it is; but whether what it is is saleable is an entirely different matter.
Most of my other books have THIS problem. “I don’t know how I’d pitch it.”
So that’s why I wrote in the comment section of ‘s last entry that I wished I could believe what she’d typed–that if your book is good, it WILL be picked up by New York if you are persistent–and that I used to believe that, but I don’t any more. I had to grow up. I couldn’t remain the idealist and live in the real world.
(EDIT: ALthough the original post was regarding a guy who put forth the argument that he couldn’t get pubbed because publishing has a bias against men and towards women and he is getting blackballed ’cause he’s a guy–which doesn’t make any sense, really–Scalzi at WHATEVER adds this TNH quotation to my ammo. “All things being equal, it’s probably likely that what [the reject is] writing isn’t up to snuff, but even if it is, sometimes even that’s not enough; as Teresa Nielsen Hayden notes in her justifiably famous “Slushkiller” essay, sometimes a writer can do everything right and still not get their work taken.”)
Books and old movies are more real to me than reality. –apologies to , who said that about an acquaintance of hers, but it applies more to ME, I swear.