A Well Deserved Thank You

I would like to start out this post by giving a heart-felt thank you to all the American soldiers, past and present, on this Memorial Day. Whether it is peace or wartime, to wear the uniform means a willingness to separate yourself from friends and loved ones, and despite the agenda, to simply go where needed, and sacrifice all that we might continue to be free. Freedom is, and never will be, free. Thank you for paying the price for me.

In writing news, I have had another agent request a partial of my novel. Not a large partial, mind you, but that does mean she at least liked my query letter. Today won't be very productive as far as writing goes. I have the day off, but my wife still has to work. So, I'm spending the day chasing diaper-dwarves, and later I have to go to a birthday party. I HAVE to go because it's my party. I'm 32 today, and everyone will be upset if they can't tell me how OLD I'm getting.

I just love that part.

Happy Memorial Day.

An Invitation to the Dance

I received a nice little email this afternoon.

The lovely Jennifer Brozek (the new submissions editor at Apex and chief editor of The Edge of Propinquity) sent me an invitation to submit a story for the upcoming anthology CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE URBAN KIND.

Maybe this happens all the time to other writers, and maybe this same invitation was sent out to 100,000 other writers, but it's a first for me, so don't spoil it. Also, don't think me foolish. I understand that an invite isn't a guaranteed acceptance.

The Day Job has been a bog of depression. I'm getting a rush training for my new position, and I'm not all that thrilled (but as they say these days "at least I HAVE a job"), so this invitation was a bright beam of sunlight through a thick canopy of black clouds.

As any writer knows, it's lonely out there. So when someone reaches out and actually ASKS you to write something . . . I mean, wow! Give me a computer; a crayon and some paper; a chunk of stone and a chisel; something quick!

I have until September 1st to turn something in, but I'm already sifting through ideas. As soon as I'm done with the current WIP, I'll be on it like gnats on a dog's . . . sorry, bad Indiana analogy.

Agent update:

It's going on six weeks that my full manuscript has been in the hands of a certain agent. The suspense is killing me, but to be honest, I'm a little afraid to get a response. Right now I'm holding onto the old adage "no news is good news", and I'm praying that things will go my way.

Big Changes

I really wanted to have a good April Fool's joke for all of you, but I'm sorry to say, I'm drawing a blank.

As you all can see I've given the ol' blog a much needed overhaul. There will be some more changes on the way, but right now I'm too tired to do much more.

Let me know what you all think.

Will Write For Food

So, I've become a statistic.

I'll give you a minute to ponder that. Go ahead, I'll wait. There, are you done? What did you come up with? No, no, nothing so sorted.

I was talking about my job. You should really watch where your mind wanders.

Yes, alas, it's true. The Krakens of Corporate Sheol have decided to "dissolve" my position with the company. Now, before you get all weepy for me, I still have a job. They are stuffing me into another department. It's not terrible, but it's not good, either. I feel a bit like Milton from the movie Office Space.

One, I don't handle change very well. Two, my work hours will be going from good to bad, so I'm not yet sure how this will affect my writing. I'll still write, it's just going to be a bit more difficult for me.

Unless I land that six figure book deal that I've been dreaming about. That really does happen to writers, right? Most of the time, no, you say. Crap!

Maybe I can go stand by the freeway with a sign that reads, "Will Write For Food."

That's a First!

So, there I was at work (trying to look like I was working) when I noticed an email pop up. I glanced at the description balloon and saw that it was a response to one of my agent queries.

No big deal. I'd received one just a few hours earlier . . . a rejection, mind you. Again, no big deal. But something caught my eye. A strange phrase that I had yet to see in an agent's response. I couldn't be sure, but I could have sworn that I saw the word "interested".

Trying my best -- and failing -- not to get my hopes up, I opened the email. And there it was. Something that turned my good day into great day.

I have received my first official manuscript request by a literary agent.

Now, I know that this means nothing. It could still end in a rejection if my writing doesn't register with him. But it still feels good to know I'm doing something right for a change.

Now I'm off to put the boy to bed and then it'll be a late night of submitting my manuscript and synopsis.

I'll let you know how it turns out.