My (Little) Taste of the Big-Time

Only one more left!
Only one more left!

On Friday night, C, K, and I went to a movie. It being C’s birthday, and because this was a girly-friend custom, C picked the movie (a creepy one, also a custom), which we ambled toward after happy-hour drinks and a little shopping.

It just so happened that we passed a Barnes & Noble on our way to the theatre. C and K were too cute, wanting to check out the anthology I’ve mentioned many times already (can’t get enough of it!) in its natural habitat.

I need to practice my signature -- this is the wobbly version
I need to practice my signature -- this is the wobbly version

Admittedly, I hadn’t thought to do this yet, so their enthusiasm grabbed me up too. We perused the “New Mystery” section, but, alas, we saw no sign of the anthology. We asked the information-desk lady, and she comfirmed that they had one copy left.

But where was this lone copy of TWO OF THE DEADLIEST? Answer: Up front on the “New Fiction” table! Too cool! I probably wouldn’t have said anything because of my horrifyingly dismal shameless-self-promotion skills, but K mentioned that I was a contributor.

And here’s where the little taste of the big-time comes in: Information-desk lady let me sign that lone book, and afterwards she slapped an “Autographed Copy” sticker on it!

Is that shameless enough?
Is that shameless enough?

I felt like a teeny, tiny star on the fiction horizon as C and K pulled out their cell phones to snap pictures of me and the book. We giggled like fiends, and the security guard watched us with a knowing smile. He’d lent me the pen I used to sign my story. I’m sure he’s seen local authors before, but this was a first for me!

Later, in the theatre’s bathroom, I called over the stalls to C and K: “If that isn’t enough to inspire me to get on with the next project, I don’t know what is.”

Maybe, just maybe, stuff’s starting to percolate again. Maybe, just maybe.

Hey, There’s My Name on the Back Cover!

The cover art is actually classy white.
The cover art is actually classy white.

I’ve had a few short stories published, and I’ve received author’s copies in the mail. But today I received a whopper of an author’s copy. A luscious, 460-page hardcover anthology that’s so fresh, it squeaks. And, ah, that new-book smell, my nose up against the spine from the inside, no doubt killing brain cells sniffing the spine glue…

Finally! Two of the Deadliest, edited by Elizabeth George, has arrived. I mentioned this book in this post. And now I’ll quote Elizabeth George, from her Introduction:

“Included in this volume is something a bit different. In the second portion of the book, you will find “Introducing…,” a section devoted to a group of writers who are either largely unknown or who have not been published before. These women come from various backgrounds — they are journalists, educators, and techies — and they have all been students of mine at one time or another, in one venue or another. I have asked them to participate in order to bring them to the readers’ attention and, perhaps, to the attention of editors and publishers. It’s a rough publishing world these days, and people of note are often disregarded.”

Kudos to Ms. George for inviting us newbies to participate. She could have offered the page-space to well-known novelists instead — thus attracting their readers. Thank you, EG!

A Little Sanity

Weekend writing spot: Laptop, dog, beans and rice, what could be better?
Weekend writing spot: Laptop, dog, beans and rice, what could be better?

I think, but I’m not sure, that I started off this week a million times more sane than last week. Don’t get me wrong, at various points over the weekend stress nipped at me, reminding me of its existence while I went about my business trying to have a weekend away from the work.

That was my main goal for weekend — SAY “NO” TO WORK — because I needed, wanted, had to work on short story edits. This story will be published in an anthology, and I’ve been sitting on the editor’s notes for weeks, closer to two months. I’ve longed for the brainspace to sit down with the story and clean it up. But until this past weekend, I was out of my mind.

This weekend I was only a little out of my mind. In fact, I’d say SAYING “NO” TO WORK and forcing myself to ignore the stressed heart-thumps and chest pressures did me a world of good. I feel better for having time with my fiction.

(Unfortunately, I did work over the weekend, but just a little on Saturday morning and last night. Mostly, I had my weekend.)

In fact, the anthology’s editor called me Saturday morning. I rushed to assure her that the short story was open on the monitor. Apparently, she wasn’t concerned about the edits though. She was concerned that given my fragile state of late, I’d take this blog post the wrong way.

I had to laugh when I read the post, and I’m looking forward to hearing her rude-writer tales. You’ll also see my comment. Rest assured, I’m not one of the unprofessional writers she was talking about. Why? Because I communicated with her along the way — and I know how to format a bloody manuscript! (Aspiring writers: heed her post.)

She’s smart. She suggested that I might feel better if I left my apartment for a real lunch hour. That seems obvious (so why hadn’t I thought of it?). I didn’t try this today; instead, I clowned around outside with plants, a neighbor, and my dog. That counts for a lunch hour though.

And it helped!

You know what else helped? Instead of stumbling straight from bed to drowning in work-muck without coffee (much less breakfast) until hours later, I took thirty minutes to shower, say a quality “hello” to the animals, fix coffee, dress in real clothes, and step out onto the deck for a few quality inhalations.

I can’t remember the last time I showered in the morning. Usually, I get it in whenever, which is often right before bed. Amazing what a difference that makes…sigh…

“Outstanding Women of Mystery”

After so long, it’s great to see signs that Two of the Deadliest is sliding into the home stretch toward publication. It might be coming out in the U.K. first for all I know, because the U.K. edition’s cover art is available online. Good looking cover, isn’t it?

Check out that subtitle!
Check out that subtitle!

Many of the writers that Elizabeth George invited to participate aren’t mystery writers, per se. But that’s marketing for you, eh?

I’m smiling because I can’t believe how excited I am to see this baby in print! I wrote my story way back in August/September 2007. The original pub date was set for April, 2008. Then, we were looking at April, 2009. Next month! But, alas, no…July? This is what the HarperCollins site states, but I heard it might not see life until the fall — in hopes that the economy stabilizes, maybe even improves some?

Story Got Accepted!

Remember the funny post I wrote about developing a story in four days to meet a deadline? (This post.) I started with less than nothing. Truly. My brain was so empty of ideas that it was vacuum. No way, I thought, can I come up with a plausible idea by deadline much less write it up.

Of course, thinking this, I had to give it a try.

Well, the story got accepted into the anthology to be published by TripleTree Publishing! And I didn’t know this, but I’ll be paid a little bit of money, too. That’s always a bonus.

What’s amazing is that the story is barely a second draft. Yiiikers. I expect to work through a few heavy rounds with the anthology’s editor. But that’s okay. I’ll bet I learn something.

What I Will NOT Do in the Next Few Days

Here’s what I will not do over the next few days, or even weeks:

I will most emphatically and deliberately and stubbornly not read over the short story I wrote for a 9/30 postmarked deadline. No way. Because when I read it — which I will, but just not in the next few days or weeks — I will find typos and I will find horrendous prose and awkward transitions and plot flaws plus faulty character motivation ambiguous turns of phrase murky backstory…

The thing’s barely a second draft, but I submitted it anyhow. How’s that for silly?

Here’s how it went down:

Friday night, 9/26: Re-met various workshopping friends, one of whom recently acquired a small press. Said small press periodically publishes themed anthologies. The current theme: addiction.  I hear: Lisa, surely you have something sitting around that you can submit. Lisa, anything can be an addiction.

I dismiss the thought because I have nothing addiction-related sitting around.

Saturday, 9/27: Yet, I can’t help myself: I ponder…addiction, addiction. Perhaps retool that cool novel scene, the one between mom and daughter in a hair salon? You could say the daughter is addicted to her misery…nah, stupid idea.

That night, I feel a glimmer of something. A brand-spanking-new idea. Something a little twisted…

Sunday, 9/28: Glimmer is now a spark. Could be, could be. Sit at a picnic table with my trusty index cards and brainstorm until I have a semi-solid grasp of the story — at least I know the ending. That’s always a good sign. If I’m going to write this thing — feeling the pressure now because all of sudden I must make deadline — I must forgo further canoodling.

Write the first five pages that day. Don’t sleep well that night. The story needs at least another ten pages. Yikes!

Monday, 9/29: Hammer out the rest of the story in 11 pages. I’m a mad fiend at the computer. Don’t eat all day. Worrying that the story is over-the-top and unrealistic in a bad way because that’s what happens when the verbal does its vomiting. And what is it with my protagonist who turned into a Romanian immigrant? I let the worries go because, well, I’m just about out of time.

Stay up too late in bed with a printed copy and jot initial revisions.

Tuesday, 9/30: Deadline day! I must be nuts. I work through my revision notes which compel other revisions all the while eyeing the clock and ignoring the dog scooching her butt across the carpet. Don’t eat all day again. Doing my best here with cuts (not enough I’m sure) and rearrangements…And then I force myself to stop with that and read the story aloud because that’s what really helps. I leave time to read the story aloud a second time because that really helps. Feeling the stress now, the second read-through is too fast, know I’m missing things — and typos — yeesh, typos! — but I have to quit now.

Arrive at the post office with 30 minutes to spare (darn, did have time to slow down over the last scene after all) and want to melt I’m so relieved.

Aaaaaaah. Did it! And the challenge was good for me. Just what I needed, get the blood boiling, shake myself up…aaaaaaah.

Afterwards? Wine and bubble bath? Beer and friends? Wish I could say so. Instead, off to the vet to get the dog’s anal glands expressed. Ah well, perhaps a fitting end to a day in which I’d attempted to grow a story out of a “shitty first draft” (to quote Anne Lamott).

Practicing my Shameless Self-Promotional Skills

Earlier this week I Google-searched the title of the anthology that will contain one of my short stories. It’s called Two of the Deadliest, and I hoped to discover its publication date, originally set for 2008. You’ll see I’ve updated my sidebar: April, 2009. Sigh.

Besides the pub date, my search also returned results for many well-known novelists who have mentioned their short stories on their websites, only they do a better job of promoting themselves and the anthology than I do. They actually mention the titles of their stories, for one thing, and maybe a sentence or two about their stories. This got me thinking…

Self-promotion: A skill that doesn’t come naturally to me.

End result, I need to exhibit a little shamelessness. It’s not like I have oodles of fiction credits under my belt yet. I mean, really, the following tidbit is big news for a newbie like me:

Elizabeth George, New York Times bestselling novelist, sent me an email asking me if I’d like to write a short story for her anthology, edited by her. I’ll be one of a few newbies included in a section entitled “Introducing….”

Very cool, yes? I ought to fling the news about for the whole world to view. Look at me! Look at me! Which is what this blog post is all about (all the while feeling uncomfortable even though I can be as full of myself as I wanna be on my blog!).

Self-promotion: Not for the faint of heart.

The funny thing is that for the seasoned novelists, the anthology is probably not a huge deal. I imagine most of them pumped out their short stories in under a week while I worked my fanny off over quite a few months to get mine right. Once again, sigh.

Here’s the scoop on Two of the Deadliest: It will be an all-female collection of mystery and crime stories centered around the themes of lust and greed — “two of the deadliest” sins. My story is called “Paddy O’Grady’s Thigh” and features an inexperienced journalist, two Irish Travellers, and one dug-up corpse.

There.

Self-promotion: Not so bad when I cringe and do it anyhow.