My Unworkshop Weekend

I haven’t been incredibly active on my blog as of late, mostly because I’ve been busy. Busy with mom-ing, acting, and costuming at times. Also, I’ve been diving into my editing business, which, I have to say, I love. I love dissecting query letters and manuscripts and seeing what makes them tick.

But! I knew I had to write at least one blog about my time here at the Highlights Foundation Conference Center for an Unworkshop.

To start at the beginning, in March, some of my writer friends were planning a writing retreat for October. The very idea of a writing retreat- a chance to get away from momhood and housework and costumes and vacuuming- was mouthwatering. The problem was, since Baby #2 is due in October (yay!), I knew there was no way I could go with them.

So I began searching. I knew exactly what I wanted: A post-published writers’ conference or retreat, preferably for kidlit writers, that wasn’t about marketing. I needed time to do a drastic revision on my current novel, meet some friendly writers to talk with/commiserate with, and maybe talk a little craft. The problem was: This conference didn’t exist. This is when I found the Unworkshop at the Highlights Foundation Conference Center in the Pocono mountains.

Fast-forward to my time here: First of all, for a city girl who grew up in a small, rural town, coming here was like coming home.

I arrived on a Friday evening, about an hour after dinner was served and found my cabin- Cabin 11- all ready with my name on the door and my heavy-duty tote bag, containing a name tag, instructions, and meal times, on the cozy twin bed. The room has its own coffee pot, complete with coffee and many types of tea. There’s a mini-fridge already stocked with a few cans of soda, an air conditioning unit in the window, and baseboard heating to keep the place warm and snug. It has its own bathroom, with a full tub and shower, and a bookshelf full of Picture, Middle Grade, and Young Adult books. There are sheets and towels, and the beds were already made up with homemade quilts donated by a Highlights Alumnus. As well as a ceiling fan, screened windows, and an overhead light, there are little lamps by each bed, and one perched over a writing chair. This truly is a family place, designed by writers, specifically to accommodate writers!

Hesitantly, I made my way to “The Barn,” where a large, friendly group of writers- all here for an intensive workshop week with a mentor author/editor- encouraged me to step into the kitchen and ask if there was anything to be heated up. I did. The chef soon brought out a plate just heaping with delicious, farm-to-table, local food. He even brought a bowl of cut strawberries and fruit at the end for dessert.

I settled into my cabin, set up my work station, and watched the sunset before planning out my schedule for the next day, as there was no set schedule for me to follow, except for meal times.

In the morning, I had a bright and early delicious breakfast- pancakes, eggs, sausage, local breads and jellies, and homemade granola were among the offerings. The writing group who was here for an “official” workshop welcomed me with open arms, and the CEO of the Highlights Foundation even joined us for a cup of coffee, telling stories and treating us like family. I then went back to my cozy cabin and proceeded to write. I made a calendar of events for my new book- something I’d never attempted at home- and began the tedious work of inserting a new ending into a solid draft. Lunch was homemade soup and Monte Cristo sandwiches with local bread and salad. I then went for a short walk, down by the creek and around the farmhouse. And then came more editing… and a nap. A much longer nap than anticipated. But with a cute bed like this, how could I resist?

Before dinner was a half hour of h’ourderves, complete with red or white wine, local cheese, homemade spreads, veggies, and crackers. The conferencing group once again welcomed me into their group, as well as the other woman who was here on her own for an Unworkshop. I got just the right amount of writer chit-chat: hearing about their projects, processes, and progress, and telling a little of my own.

The Barn is a lovely space- a huge open area for large meetings or meals, a living room-style sitting room with a coffee table for small groups, a kidlit library/dining room for groups under twelve, and a big loft for morning yoga, as well as any writers who want to write in a more public space, or mid-sized group meetings. There is always a table with coffee and tea, little bagged snacks, and even a freezer with ice cream! The patios outside are meant for congregating, with large, round tables and an outdoor refrigerator with drinks.

That evening, I called my son and husband and attempted to dive back into the manuscript, but realized that it needed just a little bit more plotting to figure out every little kink. I sat on my bed with the lamp on and fixed those last few plot points, after making a huge leap and transferring 10,000 words into the cut file.

In the morning was another lovely breakfast- steel cut oats with assorted fruit toppings, eggs, and bacon- and the writing group’s mentor graciously invited me to stay for their week’s wrap-up. I sat quietly as their mentor dispensed wisdom like it was candy, and the writers recapped what they’d learned from their week of one-on-one meetings with her and each other. It was definitely a blessing of an extra experience that I neither anticipated nor dreamed of.

They must have seen my pregnant, strawberry-loving self coming!

Misty morning

 

After that, the majority of the writing group left, while a couple people stayed on to do an Unworkshop of their own. I spent all morning writing about 3,000 words of the new ending, and came to lunch ready to chat. Once again, the CEO of Highlights came for coffee, and this time we visited about Westfield (the small town in SONG OF SUMMER, where he happens to have roots!). Then back to my cabin for a (shorter) nap, and to work through the new climax of the book.

The climax of the book was done just in time for dinner, where I got to eat with two ladies who were also Unworkshopping (one from the day before’s group, and one who had just arrived), as well as meet the new conference group, here to learn about writing Jewish children’s books.

After my last delicious dinner (roasted vegetables, chicken, homemade bread, with local maple walnut ice cream for dessert- for anyone who’s interested), I returned to my cabin and yawned my way until 10 p.m. to finish the brand new ending.

And here I am this morning! Reading about other people’s experience here at the Highlights Foundation Conference Center Unworkshop got me through some really stressful times, so I hope to pass the gift on to others! The staff is accommodating (even taking people to and from the airport), the facilities are gorgeous (many individual cabins as well as an eight-room lodge, complete with a meeting room), the food is truly to die for (obviously- half this blog was about the food!), the location is breath-taking and creativity-inspiring, and I can’t wait to come back! In two years. When the new baby’s old enough to be left. *sigh* Ah well, I’ll be counting the days.

Deleted Scene from Song of Summer

Hello friends of Song of Summer!

Thank you so much for your help in reaching 51 reviews on Amazon! As promised, here’s a never-before-seen deleted scene straight from an early draft of the book. I hope you like it!

SONG OF SUMMER

Prologue: Carter

I tear a chunk of funnel cake from the greasy paper plate and fold it into my mouth. Savoring the spongy sweetness while attempting to brush away the stray powdered sugar that fell onto my t-shirt. This succeeds in smearing more across my chest, and the casual brushing turns into concentrated scrubbing before someone tugs on my arm. I glance down. The lights from the food booths and portable spinning teacups cast a carnival glow on my little sister’s face, exaggerating her pout even more.

“Carter! No fair!” Trina signs.

I lower the plate to her level and she rips off a giant piece, shoving the funnel cake into her mouth, powdered sugar already coating her cheeks. A drunken bee hovers near her face and I brush it away with the back of my hand before she sees it and freaks out. I’ve just waved it off when a couple of girls walk by, their mouths going, “Awww!” in unison as they press their hands against their hearts. Short shorts bare their legs all the way down to flip-flops and dusty feet with matching, perfectly pink toenails. I look back up to their faces and give them a half smile. Trina tugs on my arm again.

“Carter!” she signs. “We’re going to miss the fireworks!”

I give her the plate to keep her hands busy. “It will be impossible to miss the fireworks, Trina,” I sign back. “Giant balls of fire in the sky? Hard to miss.”

She rolls her eyes at me and turns on her heel, heading back to the field where thousands of people sit on hundreds of blankets and lawn chairs. I lunge forward and tap her shoulder. “You know where Mom and Dad are?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes again. Must be a very popular dismissal with nine year olds nowadays. Whatever happened to sticking out her tongue? “Yes,” she signs with her free hand.

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

“Tell them I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay.” She turns on her heel and swishes through the crowd, the flounces on her hot pink skirt bouncing. I turn back to the improvised midway. Every year, it’s an inauguration into this strange part of the state from my native New York City. We always leave the city in time for the Fourth of July celebration on Chautauqua Lake. The smells of fried food and people sweat are familiar, as are the game booths, food booths, mini carnival rides, and crowds of people who all seem to know each other.

I walk the dusty paths and people watch: tired parents with sticky-faced children, the occasional elderly couple who decided to brave the traffic for some real cotton candy, and preteens in giggly, lip-glossed groups. Also, of course, my agemates—teenagers in pairs with interlocked fingers, or mini-mobs of girls and guys eying each other up, deciding who they’ll kiss when the sky turns pink.

A group of teenagers blobs up the path toward me, weaving in and out of each other, ebbing and flowing like a giant single-celled organism. A dark blond guy with a five o’clock shadow pegs popcorn at a couple of girls near the front of the group. The tall, leggy redhead ducks and turns to yell at him, gesturing wildly, but when she faces front again, there’s a smile behind her eyes. The five o’clock shadow guy laughs at the back of her head and throws a piece of popcorn to one of his friends, who catches it in his mouth. Then he flicks another piece of popcorn at the leggy redhead’s friend, a short girl with her dark hair in a long ponytail. The dark haired girl removes the popcorn from her hair, holds it up in the air with a flourish, and sticks it straight in her mouth, brushing her fingers to dust them off pretentiously. Although she never turns to face him, the whole thing is clearly visible to the five o’clock shadow guy behind her.

“Thanks,” her mouth says around the popcorn.

I find a small smile on my face.

The leggy redhead grimaces, pointing at the dark haired girl as she chews the piece of popcorn that was once in her hair. “Eeewwww!” her face says, and the dark haired girl grins, shrugging. She swallows.

“What?” the dark haired girl’s mouth says, like it’s no big deal. She grins and looks away from the amorphous teen blob, catching me staring at her. I quickly start inspecting the brightly colored plastic flags strung across the top of the candied apple booth across the aisle.

After a few seconds—during which I gather that the flags are green, yellow, blue, and red, and not in as good of shape as they presumably once were—I glance back to the dark haired girl. Her back is to me, turned to talk to her friends again. Her hands move, not with any real communicative purpose, but the movement takes my mind to my friends back home. Tonight, they’re probably on the roof of Daniel’s building on Riverside Drive, watching fireworks explode over the Hudson. But what’s the big deal? This podunk Independence Day is the only one I’ve ever known. And at least this summer, I have my Ducati and a measure of freedom.

My daydreaming has caught up to me and the teen blob has passed, on their way to a blanket on the grass somewhere, I’m sure. I wander the mini fair for another few minutes, until the last bit of the sun goes down and a practice firework shoots across the sky. Then I, along with everybody else still left in the park, head to the field of blankets and lawn chairs.

It’s tough to tell who’s who in the semi-dark, but with the help of my cell phone, I barely make out Trina’s little hand waving in the air. I give her a nod and turn the phone off, sliding it into my pocket before picking my way across the field.

Then someone knocks me off balance.

I put my hands out to steady myself, but I’m never in any real danger of falling. She is, though—she’s holding a funnel cake and giant soft drink, and a family is sitting right at our feet, about to get drenched—so I reach out to her elbow and back, steadying her while she regains her balance. She takes a second, eyes gaping at the drink in her hand before turning them up to smile her thanks at me. My half smile returns unbidden. It’s the dark haired girl from before. The one who ate the popcorn out of her hair.

These are the moments I wish I could talk. I would say, “Oh! You! I saw you earlier, with the popcorn! That was awesome.” Then she would say something funny, and I would tell her I’m staying in Chautauqua for the summer if she ever wants to hang out. And I would text her my number. But I can’t just text her my number now with no small talk. So I shrug and let go of her elbow.

Still looking up at me, she covers her mouth with the hand holding the cup, her eyes squinting with laughter. Thankfully, she takes the hand away from her lips after a second.

“I’m so sorry!” her mouth says, the lights from the carnival turning her lips dark and her eyes bright.

I shrug, a smile on my face, and wave away the apology. Any time that girl needs catching, I’ll be happy to do it again.

She turns her head abruptly, and I follow her gaze. Her redheaded friend is waving her down, yelling something, but it’s too dark to see what.

The dark haired girl looks up at me again. “Gotta go,” her mouth says, and she grins.

I nod and, as I continue my trek to my family’s blanket, I watch her pick her way across the blankets to her friends, soft drink in one hand, funnel cake in the other. When she reaches the blanket, she settles down next to the popcorn-throwing guy for a couple of seconds. He casually throws an arm around her.

I sigh. Of course. Of course she has a boyfriend. What was I thinking? Then the redhead grabs the dark haired girl’s arm and makes a show of moving her to the front of the blanket, out of the popcorn thrower’s reach. I grin to myself as the dark haired girl goes with her friend. When she stands up, she glances back, searching the area where I caught her. I should have never left it.

A little hand taps my leg.

“Sit down, Carter!” signs Trina. “You’re blocking everyone’s view!”

The minute I sit down, fire streaks across the sky, exploding purple in the air and rumbling low in my chest.

Happy Independence Day.

 

I hope you like the extra sneak peak into Carter’s world! Personally, I loved writing a scene where we get to observe Jenni, Robin, and Trent “in the wild,” so to speak, from Carter’s point of view.

In my mind, this scene still exists in the world of the book, and you’ll notice that the first chapter of Song of Summer mentions that Violet’s “long, plastic fingernails shine red, white, and blue, the commemorative paint chipping from last week’s holiday.” In the world of the book, Carter and Robin did actually meet before that fateful day at the diner!

If you want to read the rest of the book, you can find it:

Here from Amazon (Kindle)

Here from Kobo

Here from ibooks

Thanks to CarrieAnn DiRisio for some incredibly helpful line edits, as well as Ashley Turcotte from Brown Owl Editing for copy editing this chapter to a beautiful shine! Thanks also to my awesome editor at Bloomsbury Spark, Meredith Rich for encouraging me to post this. As always, thank you to my most excellent agent, Uwe Stender at Triada US. And, of course, thank you to every single person that read and reviewed Song of Summer – without you, this chapter would have never seen the light of day!

We Did It!!!

Dear friends of SONG OF SUMMER,

Thank you so much for all of your sharing, encouragement, and especially your REVIEWS! In less than a week, we went from 47 to 52 reviews on Amazon!

 

As promised, a deleted scene will be coming your way very soon! It’s at the copy editor now for a final polish, but it will be posted right here on this blog at 9:00 AM EST on Friday, March 11th. Only three days away!

If you loved the book, tell your friends! If you didn’t, tell your enemies! 😉

Thank you so much!

If you’ve forgotten what it’s all about, or want to buy a copy for a friend, it’s available:

Here from Amazon (Kindle)

Here from Barnes and Noble (Nook)

Here from Kobo

Here from ibooks

5 Small Ways to Help a New Author

I had a lot of wonderful people help me out when Song of Summer was released. If you want to know how to support the debut author in your life, here’s how to help both before the book is released, and after!

BEFORE THE BOOK IS RELEASED:

1) PREORDER: Did you know that the pre-order numbers are all lumped into the first week of sales? They also help put the book on the charts before it’s even released, making it jump in search engine recognition!

2) SHARE EVERYTHING: If your author friend makes any kind of announcement, it’s probably a big one! This includes, but is not limited to: Cover reveal, Amazon sale, blog posts, pre-order promotions (like all of the lovely people who shared my Best of Westfield raffle basket!), launch party announcement, and especially the day of the big event– the book release! If you’re on Twitter, retweet like it’s your job! Tag some groups that you know that the author might not know- try to introduce the book to people in your circle of friends who are outside of your author friend’s circle.

3) PARTICIPATE: Goodreads is one of the best ways to participate in the book’s release before the book is available to the public. Add it to your to-read shelf. Ask the author a question- all of these things make them look legitimate and popular (which helps to sell books). Someone I graduated with asked me a Goodreads question and it made my day! Add the book to a couple of Goodreads lists. Is there a giveaway? Enter!
Other ways to participate: Leave a blog comment, send a Facebook congrats, attend the release party, join in a pre-order promotion, retweet a link with your own comment- these are all ways that I felt INCREDIBLY BLESSED by my loving, supportive community!

AFTER THE BOOK IS RELEASED:
All of the above, plus…

4) LEAVE AN HONEST REVIEW ON AMAZON (or Nook or Kobo or ibook): The average reader chooses a book based on how many stars it has and how many reviews it has on Amazon. ALSO! The more reviews a book has, the better search optimization it gets! I can’t tell you how happy I am to have 20 reviews only 20 days after the book was released. Even if it’s only a sentence or two, even if it’s not a 4 or 5-star review, an honest Amazon review is worth way more than its weight in gold.

5) MAKE CONNECTIONS: Are you in a book club? Do you know the local librarian? Do you have any kind of blog or vlog? Are you a high school English teacher or are you related to one? I have never known an author to turn down a chance to connect with readers, whether it’s three readers or three hundred. Reach out!

I was a diner waitress and barista for a long time. If there’s anything I know, it’s that a dollar may not seem like much to you, but it can make or break a waitress’s night. That’s how I think about book promotion: One tweet, one Goodreads question, one Facebook post, one two-sentence review may take only five minutes of your time, but it means the world to a brand new author.

Thanks again to my wonderful support network, and I hope this is helpful to those of you looking to support the debut author in your life!

To find out more about Song of Summer, click here

Song of Summer is here!!!

Today is the release date for Song of Summer!For all of you lovely people who pre-ordered, the book is on your e-reader at this very moment! For all of you lovely people who didn’t, here are links to order it!
Click here to order on Kindle from Amazon.
Click here to order on Nook from Barnes and Noble.
Click here to order from Kobo.
Click here to order from ibooks.

Now that THAT’S out of the way, here’s what reviewers are saying about Song of Summer! (WARNING: Some of these reviews are pretty spoiler-y, so if you want to keep the plot a surprise, read the reviews AFTER reading the book!)

“Okay, so… I LOVED this book. LOVED IT. It’s past 4am right now as I’m typing this – that’s how much I loved it.” – Thu from Transitive Verve (click here for full review)

“This book is the perfect summer read. I mean it, it’s kind of like summer exhaled and this book came about.” -Laura from Ink Stains and Books (click here for full review)

“While the romance aspect makes brings a lighter aspect to the story, it also offers a thought-provoking look into the life of someone who is hearing impaired, and the difficulties they experience in attempting to navigate a world that caters to those who can hear.” -Katie from Shelfishly Addicted (click here for full review)

“Now this is romance! Meet my newest book boyfriend, Carter, and, yes, I’m willing to share him with you.” -Nicole from Handheld Dream (click here for full review)

“The diversity in this family was such an amazing aspect to this story.” -Rosie from Rosie Reads (click here for full review)

And now for some pictures!

Carter:                                                                Robin:

 

His ride:                                                                              Her ride:

 

For more pictures, go here!

And what about music? Let’s just say I listened to a LOT of folk while writing this book, but this song holds a special place in my heart (and this book):

For the rest of my Spotify playlist, click here!

And finally, thank you to everyone. I mean it. I wish I had more words to say but it’s almost midnight and I guess my brain is turning into a pumpkin.

And finally, to borrow from The Abridged Shakespeare Company: If you like it, tell your friends! If not, tell your enemies.

See you Westfielders tonight at the launch party! And I’ll see everybody else out in cyber-space!

Thanks again.

CP Bloghop Pt 3: How to Give Good Feedback

Hi and welcome to the last installment of my three-part series on Critique Partners! Good feedback is the most crucial part of being a good critique partner. Lucky for you, I’ve had years of training on how to give feedback from my job as a Standardized Patient for UPMC. So let’s do this!

1) Be honest AND kind: It’s possible! The difference between being rude and being kind is often the difference between making a judgment about the piece (“This is a bad analogy”) and stating your reaction to the piece (“This analogy makes a strange picture in my head”). The first says that there is something WRONG. The second says that the analogy may not convey the message the author wants it to convey. It states specifically what’s wrong with the analogy, instead of just calling it “bad,” which isn’t fixable.

2) Don’t assume: Never assume that you know what the author wants to convey! This goes for sentence-level editing as well as character choices and big-picture themes. Stating your reaction to an action/word choice/etc leaves the ball in the author’s court: “Xavier seems like he’s over-reacting and I don’t like his character as much because of it,” is so much better than, “Xavier would never do that! He’s too nice!” Maybe the author wants to show a breakdown in Xavier’s character, or his weak spot. Saying that something “seems” a certain way leaves room for interpretation, rather than declaring that something “is” a certain way. You are not the God of this world- the author is.

3) Know your limits: So you offer to critique a book and find yourself reading about your own problems. This is a sign that you are too close to the material. Stop. Put the book down. Write your CP a nice email about how sorry you are, but you can’t read about anorexia/fatherlessness/racism/whatever is pushing your personal buttons right now. You are not in a place to be objective. Your content editing will not be helpful because your own (very raw) biases will get in the way.

4) Don’t try to be funny: “Does anyone smell like anything other than shampoo in this book?!” is a fine note to leave… for YOURSELF. “Xavier smells like shampoo. In the last chapter, Thelma smelled like shampoo. Just a heads-up,” is a fine substitute. It’s specific, doesn’t imply that anything is wrong with the book (maybe this is a world where everyone smells like shampoo!) and it leaves the ball in the author’s court. Being funny can often seem mean to the author. Imagine that someone makes a joke about your kid, or your dog, or your mom. Yeah- maybe your kid is small, but nobody’s allowed to call him shrimpy. That hurts. Books are our children. Respect that relationship and don’t insult them, even if you’re just trying to be funny.

5) Say positive things: I did a whole blog on The Power of Positive Feedback, and it’s one of my most popular blogs for a good reason: People need an honest, objective person to tell them what they’re good at. We all know that we can get a million good reviews and one bad one, but that bad one will stick in our minds. Those million good reviews are still necessary- imagine if they weren’t there and all we saw was the bad one! Mark the places that make you laugh or cry. Mark the places that make you cheer for the hero or boo the villain. Look at over-arching strengths: plotting, pacing, humor, memorable characters, swoony/edge-of-your-seat/bone-chilling descriptions. Everyone has something good about their writing. Find it.

Thanks for travelling along on my little CP blog tour! My sincere thanks and apologies go out to the CPs who taught me these lessons, whether directly or indirectly: You have made me a better editor and friend.

If you want to check out the product of countless CP hours, my debut YA Contemporary novel, SONG OF SUMMER is being published tomorrow! And if you want me to critique your first page, all you have to do it pre-order it and send the receipt or screenshot to lauralee.edits @ gmail.com.

Click here to pre-order on Kindle
Click here to pre-order on Nook
Click here to pre-order on Kobo
Click here to pre-order on ibook

If you missed the other installments of this blog hop, here they are!

CP Bloghop 1: Four Ways to Find a Good Critique Partner -See Laura Write, Laura Heffernan
CP Bloghop 2: Five Ways to Be a Good Critique Partner- This Literary Life, Nicole Tone

 

How to Wait Efficiently

Anyone who’s been writing for any length of time will tell you that it’s a marathon, not a sprint. Also, it’s a lot of hurry up and wait. Here’s a waiting plan for various stages of the waiting game:

Waiting for Betas/Critique Partners to get your book back to you:
CONSUME MEDIA- books, movies, TV, magazines, internet articles, blogs… that have NOTHING to do with your book! If you’re anything like me, you write in sprints and consume next to no media during that time. Now’s your chance to refill so you can pour it all back on the page! Grab a latte or a glass of wine and relax a little before your revising begins.

Waiting after your first batch of queries:
START SOMETHING NEW- Now is the time to have a lot of fun coming up with new and exciting projects to get your mind off of submission. Brainstorm new books, sketch brief outlines. That way when the agent comes knocking, you’ll be able to give them a couple of your new ideas.
INCREASE YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA PRESENCE- Have a social media account that’s pretty much defunct? Ever want to try out blogging or Twitter or Pinterest? Do it! It will increase your platform, get your mind off submission, and keep you close to your email inbox!
HELP YOUR FRIENDS- Remember those great CPs and Betas who helped you polish your  novel and/or query letter? Now it’s your turn to repay the favor.

Waiting after your second, third, or fourth batch of queries:
DON’T GIVE UP- That’s the important thing.
REVISE YOUR QUERY- If your first 15-20 queries don’t result in any partial requests, it may not be a story problem, it’s probably a query problem.
DIVE INTO SOMETHING NEW- Beyond just brainstorming and fun, get down to some serious outlining (if you’re a plotter) or scene-dreaming and inspiration free-writing (if you’re a pantser like me).
READ CRAFT BOOKS/TAKE A CLASS- Is there a common thread in your rejections? Look it up and fix it! What doesn’t kill you makes your stronger. With a little work, your weaknesses can become your strengths.

-If your queries don’t work, you don’t get an agent after a year and a couple of revisions, either take the plunge and self-publish or do what I did: Write a new book!-

Waiting while your agent is submitting your book to editors (aka: “on submission”):
COMPLETELY IMMERSE YOURSELF IN YOUR NEW BOOK- Do NaNoWriMo. Do writing sprints. Write that first draft like crazy. That way, if an editor calls, you’ll have enough distance from your first book to be willing to accept new revisions. If the editor call never comes (which happens!) you’ll be ready to give your agent the new book.

Waiting for your first book to come out:
SOCIAL MEDIA AGAIN! Remember back when you were waiting on your first batch of queries and you re-invigorated your social media presence? Do it again!
WRITE ARTICLES AND GUEST BLOGS- Expand your audience by posting on others’ blogs! (That being said, if anybody wants me to guest blog, I’d love to! Drop me a line! lauralee.edits @ gmail.com)
POLISH YOUR SECOND BOOK- Time to revise and revise and revise again.

Now you’ve come full circle- back to waiting on CPs.

(If, while you’re waiting, you want me to critique your novel’s first page, just pre-order my book, Song of Summer! Go here to learn more!)

What are some of your waiting tactics?

Six Steps to Dealing With Rejection

I’m a professional actor and I’ve learned a thing or two about rejection- from my first stage kiss when the guy ran off stage yelling, “I hate myself I hate myself!” (no it was not in the script) to finding out I lost a role while I was working- I served dinner to a familiar-looking guy who turned to his wife and said, “This girl just auditioned for me. And you know what? She almost got the part.”

So when you’re rejected by the latest agent/editor/whoever, here are some ways to cope:

1) Drink a latte and call your mom. She thinks you’re great. She’ll be happy for the call even if she’s sad to hear the news. And sometimes making other people happy will help you feel happy too.

2) Think this happy little thought: Everybody fails. Every. Single. Person. You are not alone, even if all your Twitter buddies are getting million-dollar advances or whatever. They have all been in your shoes. And you know what? You will fail WAY more than you succeed! Why? Because it only takes one success and then you stop trying, right? It takes a bajillion failures to get that one success- that agent, that contract, that whatever (and then you start trying for something else). Although it’s sad, failure is a perfectly normal place to be!

3) Think this vengeful little thought: They might regret this. It might make you feel a little better. And who knows? Maybe they will! I can think of two specific instances when I was called back for a role and they gave it to someone else who was TERRIBLE. “Ha!” I thought to myself when I read the reviews/heard the horror stories. “Bet they’re wishing they’d picked me now!”

4) Consider this: You may have missed it by only two inches. I once lost a role to a girl because she was two inches taller than me. I’m not joking. The director had praised my audition to the heavens saying (and this is a direct quote), “That’s perfect! That’s exactly what I want!” and he gave it to this other girl. It was college and he said we could ask him about his casting decisions, so I did. It was because she was two inches taller. Two. Inches. Taller. I can’t tell you how many writing rejections I’ve gotten that said something along the lines of, “I loved it but the team didn’t,” or, “It’s just too quiet to break out in this market.” (I have a pretty good list of direct quotes from editors here) Two inches. That’s it. Yeah, it’s sucky, but you were close. And you know what? Maybe next time you’ll get the role because you’re two inches shorter.

5) Now: Change your way of thinking. They are not rejecting YOU. They are not even rejecting your book baby. They are simply looking for something specific and your book wasn’t it. Which is okay. Here’s the thing: I will never play Cinderella in Into the Woods. Ever. Because they would have to find a Little Red that’s shorter than me and, well, good luck with that. Here are more roles I will never play: Marius in Les Mis (he’s a boy), Adelaide in Guys and Dolls (she’s a dancer), Sarah in Ragtime (she’s black)… the list goes on. And you know what? That’s OKAY! There are plenty of roles I can play that those people can’t! Little Red Riding Hood, Peter Pan, Lydia Bennett, Amy March, Hermia… the list goes on! Even against people of my own type, a director might cast someone else because he or she envisions the character a little heavier, a little scrawnier, with blonde ringlets, with a snubby nose, with no freckles, a higher voice, etc, etc. Your book is great! They are not rejecting your book! It is simply not what they’re looking for. And guess what? Someone else may be looking for your book.

6) Finally, be a little sad, but try again. Yes, there is a time to give up and you’ll feel it if it comes. But don’t make any hasty decisions. Give it another shot. As Amy March said, “You only need one. If he’s the right one.”

PS- At least writers actually receive rejections! Actors usually hear from the company only when we get the part- not when we don’t. It’s just an indeterminate wait until you hear that one of your friends was cast or rehearsals start and you aren’t invited. It was sweet, sweet relief when a rejection email first landed in my inbox.

How do you deal with rejection?

 

 

I Don’t Write Every Day. And I Call Myself a Writer…

Here’s a question I hate: “Do you write every day?” No, in fact. No I don’t write every day.

Sorry to all of the writing books/blogs/cartoons/tweets/famous people out there that say you can only be a writer if you write every day. I don’t. And I’m a writer. I have a mug to prove it.

Now here’s a question I can get behind: “Do you do something writerly every day?” Yes! Yes I absolutely do!

Who cares that this particular question involves a made up word? Guess what? That’s part of being a writer! (Just ask Shakespeare. He made up tons of words)

Here is a list of things that count as “writerly.”
*Writing, in all its many forms (journaling, blogging, tweeting, poeming, etc)
*Editing/revising
*Reading. Anything.
*Talking to other writers about the craft of writing
*Noticing interesting things about life and thinking, “That could work in a story.”
*Thinking about the plot of your current work
*Thinking about the plots of your past work
*Making up words (see *writerly and *poeming)
*Saying a pun and noticing it’s a pun
*Internally correcting your co-workers’ grammar
*Contrasting the “voice” of a truck commercial with that of a cereal commercial
*Buying a book
*Going to the library

Yes, at some point you actually do have to write your novel. But not every day.

Certainly not on days that you wake up before the sun to a babbling toddler and run out to get a hair cut before hubby goes to work then think about a new musical for your book then meet a writer friend for coffee (which you actually take back to your HOUSE since your toddler won’t do coffee shops and the library is closed) and shuttle car-less people to and from places which ends up to be a fiasco and try for an afternoon nap which DOESN’T WORK so you watch Daniel Tiger and fall asleep before a big meeting during which said toddler pukes on the nursery worker.

Not on days like that. On days like that, you get to look at your day and say, “Look at all the writerly things I did! I thought about a new musical for my book! And met a writer friend for coffee! And perhaps there will be a shuttling fiasco in a book some day! I even tried to go to the library! My day was jam-packed with writerly things. My mind is at ease. I am still a writer.”

Moral of the story: Don’t beat yourself up if you miss a day (or a few!) of writing. Just don’t.

What things are on your writerly list?

How I Got My Agent

It’s been way over a year since I’ve signed the contract with my agent, but I haven’t written the obligatory “how I got my agent” post yet because, I guess, to me this is still kind of hallowed ground. As though if I say it out loud, it might all go away. But that’s silly! He sold my book for goodness sake! It’s not going away! I guess for some reason (maybe I’m afraid he’ll find out my deepest secrets) I haven’t told the blogosphere how I came to be represented by the most excellent Uwe Stender of TriadaUS.

Well, secrets or no, here we go:

To make a long story short, my first book was a book I loved that never attracted an agent’s attention. It was a YA medical sci-fi about a girl who bleeds acid (and it still kind of rocks my socks off). I pitched it for almost a year and accumulated 2 requests for fulls and about 40 or 45 rejections.

So I wrote another book.

My second book (the book that became Yellow Bike) was a YA contemporary romance about folk music and deaf culture, set in my tiny hometown. About as different from acid blood as you can get.

After having attended a pretty awesome conference in NYC for my first book (RIP Backspace Conference), I was thrilled to find a writers’ conference here in Pittsburgh! The Pennwriters conference gave me a LOT of bang for my buck. A lot of the “extras” at the NYC conference were included in the cost of Pennwriters… including a pitch session with an agent. So although my YA contemporary wasn’t in perfect shape (great draft but only half-polished), I decided, “What the heck? What are the chances the agent will want it right away? If he wants it, I can take a couple of weeks to polish it.”

I researched all of the agents that would be in attendance and chose Uwe because of his success with Elizabeth Laban’s The Tragedy Paper, which I loved. Also, his office was located approximately 25 minutes from my house. Very nice, as I was five months pregnant with my first kid and didn’t see myself visiting NYC in the near future.

How shocked was I when I saw that my pitch session was Uwe’s VERY FIRST pitch session on the VERY FIRST day? Very shocked. I had time to attend about twenty minutes of the first seminar, “How to pitch your book in person,” which I realized I’d never actually thought about. Not joking. I guess I thought it was the same as querying, which, by the way, it’s not. During the twenty minutes I was there, I scribbled down a few one-sentence pitches then headed out the door.

After arriving RIDICULOUSLY EARLY for my pitch session (like, helping set up rooms and tables early), I stepped into the room to meet with Uwe. He smiled and shook my hand and was generally quite friendly as we sat across the table from each other and made small talk.

Finally (pleasantries can be hard for me to navigate so it seemed a lot longer than it was), he said, “So what is your book about?”

“It’s about a girl who wants a boyfriend that loves music as much as she does, but the boy she falls in love with is deaf!” I blurted out.

He smiled and said, “That’s perfect. I want to read it right now,” (or something like that).

I was not prepared for this response. In any sense of the word. “Um, it’s also about… it’s set in my hometown and she’s a diner waitress and he’s a big city rich kid and it’s told in alternating first person present.”

He smiled again. “That is perfect. I want to read it right now.”

“Um… I… I don’t have it printed out or anything.” I held up my flash drive meagerly, sweating and praying to God that he didn’t have a computer so I wouldn’t have to tell him it wasn’t perfect. NEVER PITCH UNLESS IT’S PERFECT reverberated through my skull.

His face fell. “My laptop is in my room.”

“Oh!” I was so happy, I didn’t think at all about the next words that came out of my mouth. “I can email it to you tonight if you want.” What?! Tonight?! That only gave me a few hours to fix half the novel’s spelling, punctuation, sentence structure, etc, etc….

“That’d be great,” he said. “So tell me more.”

I told him all about the story and he was so excited. He kept saying, “I hope you can write. I just hope you can write. This is a great story. I just hope you can write.”

And after a while I found myself thinking, “I hope I can write too! Oh gosh, what if I can’t write?!”

I blew off the afternoon and early evening seminars to finish polishing my book in a Panera down the road. I emailed it to him before the last event of the day.

A few weeks later, I got a text from him: “Hi Laura. I’d like to talk to you about your book. You want to meet at Starbucks?”

“Oh no, I can’t write,” I thought. But I went to meet him at Starbucks anyway.

He was great. He told me he really liked the book but he didn’t love it and he gave me specific reasons why. He said that, the way it was, I could probably find another agent if I wanted to. But if I decided to do a small rewrite with his feedback in mind, he’d like to have the first crack at it.

I liked his feedback and I agreed that it made my book stronger, so over the next few months (as I got closer and closer to having the baby), I revised the book. I did want him to have the first shot at it- I’d been really impressed with our interactions up to that point- so I sent it about a month before my due date.

Exactly one week after I had my baby, I was a physical and emotional wreck. I was lying in bed trying to sleep, per the doctor’s instructions. My phone beeped. It was a text from Uwe: “I love your book. It is sooooo romantic. I would love to represent you. Give me a call.”

I stood at the top of my stairs (stairs were a big no-no) with tears streaming down my face. “I have an agent!” I yelled down to my husband and mother and brand new baby. “An agent and a baby all in one week!”

###

(Blah blah blah that’s where the story should end, we all know it. But if you must know, I called him and asked him all the questions I was supposed to ask. Specifically, I’m glad I asked, “What will you do if the book doesn’t sell?” because it looked like that might be the case for a little while. I liked his answers and signed on the dotted line a week later. And boy I’m glad I did. Some day I need to write a post on how awesome he is.)

PS- If you want to buy the book he thought was sooooo romantic, go here!