Assembly required

Regular blog readers will remember that I am not handy with tools or instructions.

A friend took note of that today by sending me this:

Besties winner tells all!

The winner of the "Besties" writing contest has a blog post about flash fiction that I think is pretty useful.
Here's the link.

">>>>" is code for sloppy.

Working through the queries today brought yet another example of a query writer copying the contents of an email into a new email and hitting "send."

How can I tell?

>>> These little arrows
>>>appear in front of every
>>>new line. And yes
>>>it makes your query
>>> hard to read.


I've said it before, I guess I need to say it again:  The harder it is to read your query the more likely I am to stop reading and say no.

There are ways to copy email contents without getting those arrows in the body of the email. Figure out how your mail management program does it.

If you need help on this, you should be over at AbsoluteWrite talking to other writers.  AbsoluteWrite is a wonderful resource for questions large and small.

One of my clients has a psychotic break with reality

Why you get form or "no response means no" rejections in 3 easy steps

1. Query is an unholy mess from the subject line ("Query. I think")  to the closing:

>>
>> Any suggests or advice would be appreciated. Thanks for your time.

2. My reply:


> www.queryshark.blogspot.com
>
> It's a blog about how to revise your query so it's effective.
>


3. His reply

I didn't ask for ideas about queries. I asked about how to go about getting an agent. I thought you would be kind and just look over what I had sent. It's called being decent to a fellow human being. It would not have taken any skin off of your nose just to look.

Okedokey! Back to form rejections.

And the next person who asks why I don't personalize things or offer help will get a link to this post.

"Besties" writing contest results**

** how surprised are you to see how quick I was with the results?  (yea, me too!)


You were a bloodthirsty bunch this weekend! I had to find a copy of Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm to cleanse my eyeballs after reading your entries! Yowza!

Herewith the results:


Special recognition for dire threats about the judging!
"On a side note, if Matthew Masucci does not win with his entry, then I will assume all contests rigged and include a bribe with my next entry."
Cole Howard 4:45pm





Oblique in a tantalizing way!
Shtrum 9:24am



Special recognition for entries that were just utterly delightful.

Papillon Crew 9:25am
Sheila JG 9:34am






Special recognition for an entry that evokes New York perfectly!
Heroin Jones 10:06am


Yow! Special recognition for making me hide under my desk.
Matthew Masucci 1:03pm



Special recognition for making me say "awwwww"
Just Jan 12:46am



Special recognition for a neat turn of phrase:
"A lamb is bent and red beside the wolf, who lies—sought, caught, shot"
Annie 1:40pm



"A whole chaos of fuzzy red squirrels."
NotWarriorPrincess 6:01pm




Special recognition for my favorite literary goat: Bill E.
Sha'el, Princess of Pixies 11:14am



These entries just cracked me up!

Charley 10:42am

Schalfin 11:10am (the shortcut to Betelgeuse leading to the L-train!)

Tara Tyler 12:43pm

M.R. Jordan 12:26am

Kristopher 4:45pm







This isn't quite a story but holy moly it's good writing:
Rea 2:59pm 

The manager of the Paradise
Motel drives a new car and compulsively
sweeps the parking lot each night. Bill roams the hallways;
a skinny man, walking fast, herky-jerky. Scrounging
for cigarette butts. Vince stands
in his doorway, a chasm, and
says, “These drugs are killing me.”
I patrol the Paradise Motel with blinders on;
a bent harness pinches my ribcage.
A pale-faced young woman’s
asleep, sitting upright, in a Naugahyde
chair in the chaos of the parking lot.

They’re completely conspicuous,
as unobtrusive as the blood-red
neon sign that shouts vacancyvacancyvacancy;
these questions of sanity that trouble
an indifferent world.




Here are the six finalists:





Terri Coop 12:18pm


The ambulance left the police station. No sirens. Twenty years on the job and murder is still nothing but heartache and paperwork.

Unfolding a blank report, I bent over my old typewriter.

The punks were at the west desk. The old biddy at the east. Both were filing complaints.

She crowed about foiling a car theft.

Across the chasm, the hoods had red-ass about someone pulling a gun and chasing them away from their car.

Hesitation.

Recognition.

Silence.

Chaos.

I hit the “return” key. One section to go.

Conclusions: The old lady was a faster draw and a better shot.
-----------------------------





SiSi 12:22pm

I stare at the folding chair with the bent legs and traces of duct tape, pretending to worry. Detective Grady watches me with narrowed eyes. God knows what Kyle’s doing.

“You know what happened here,” Grady says. Not a question, so I don’t answer.

“Where’s Red?”

That is a question, so I respond. I shrug.

Technically my shrug’s the truth. I don’t know where Red is, just that he’s gone. Gone like the chaos and destruction that followed him here and engulfed us both, pushing me into a chasm of bitter darkness.

I hope Kyle hides the body well.


-------------------
Alaskan Ninja 1:23pm


Chaos. Everyone was screaming except me. I stood silent, white knuckles still fixed on Peter's camera.

“Take my picture,” he'd said, and headed toward the bent little cedar which clung defiantly to the outcrop. He ducked the safety rail, didn't think twice. Through the pinhole aperture I watched him stumble, saw his leg fold beneath him. The flat sole of his shoe lost purchase on the crumbling red shale.

I didn't even cry out as he slipped backward into the chasm. He tumbled end over end and I just stood there, rooted and silent as the cedar.

-----------------




Colin Smith 1:29pm

I pushed open the familiar red door of the betting shop.

"The last time," I told myself as I stood in line. I re-read my tip. Ten-to-one odds. I pulled out my bill fold—the last remains of the empty chasm that is my bank account.

"You're bent on self-destruction," my wife had told me when she walked out. Ten-to-one odds on fixing the chaos of my life.

"The last time," I muttered, approaching the counter.

"Which horse, Steve?" said the bookie.

"The two-thirty," I said pushing the last of my savings toward him. "All that on The Last Time."

--------------




Unknown 4:26pm

As Juliana slipped under the blanket’s red fold, her phone buzzed. Eric. With a sigh, she picked up.

“Sorry about dinner,” he said. “I’m working late.”

“Again?” In the heavy silence that followed, she could feel his disapproval. She was too clingy. Insecure. She should get a life.

“I can’t leave. Work’s crazy right now. Total chaos.”

Uh huh. The lies cut a deep chasm between them. Like the Grand Canyon, she thought. Uncrossable. Unforgiveable.

Juliana hung up. She bent over the toilet, stomach heaving. Nine weeks along—and it wasn’t his.

She had to tell him. But when?

------------




Elaine AM Smith 5:16pm

CC crying behind the gym, during Winter Formal, was a shock. A door slammed. I stashed my bottle, stowed it behind a bin and looked for an exit.
Drama! CC found her Brad deep in anyone’s Ginny. It was all chaos and replaced clothes. In her character assassination, CC blasted them with two-barrel insults. After that, I didn’t expect her sobs.
My intentions were good-enough when I put my hand on her red, satin-covered shoulder.
CC screamed.
There was a chasm between my act and her interpretation. “Sorry, CC. It’s Reid.”
Precision-perfect, CC kicked me. I folded bent and double.




And the winner is Terri Coop 12:18pm.  

Congratulations Terri! Send me your mailing address and we'll get a copy of PURGATORY CHASM and THE WHOLE LIE off to you.

Thanks to everyone who entered!

Besties Writing Contest!

Let's celebrate ALL the Edgar nominees for Best First Novel!  Yes, that's my client Steve Ulfelder on the list. Yes, that sound you hear is me screeching with delight!

And what better way to celebrate than with a writing contest!!

Contest opens on Saturday (1/21) at 9:00am. Closes Sunday (1/22) at 6:00pm. All times are Eastern Shark Time.

Usual rules:

Write a story in 100 words or fewer. Post the story in the comments column of this blog post. One entry per person. If you need a mulligan, delete your entry and post again.

Use the following words in your story:

Red
Fold
Chaos
Bent
Chasm


The prize is a GREAT one: a copy of PURGATORY CHASM (of course!) AND a copy of THE WHOLE LIE the next Conway Sax book. You want to win this, yes you do!

If you have questions, tweet to me @janet_reid


Ready?
Set?
WAIT! (Contest not open yet!)

WRITE!


Contest now closed!

We're going to the Edgars!

Congratulations to Steve Ulfelder for his nomination for Best First Novel!  Dear readers, I wept with joy.

Here's the complete list of nominees!

PS I'm a mammal!

Why query letter writers waste precious space, particularly the first few lines, with information I already know or don't need perplexes me.

Here are some examples from recent queries:

1. Query writer's address.  
When you query electronically, you put your contact information UNDER YOUR NAME. At the bottom, not the top.  This is not how they taught you to write a business letter at Katherine Gibbs, I know. It's a new century. Get with it.

2. MY address.
I know where I work. Honest. I may not know what year it is day to day, but I know my address.


3. The querier's name: "Hi my name is Felix Buttonweazer and I wrote a novel." 
You sign the letter at the bottom with your name. That's the ONLY place your name goes.

4.  "I found you at Publishers Marketplace" and the link to my page there.  
I know I have a page there. I know what it says. I wrote it. And updated it. Saturday.  If you found me there, ok, but for goodness sakes leave out the hyperlink!

5. "I found your page at the FPLM site" and the link to my page there.
Again, I know I have a page there. I know what it says. I wrote it.


In other words do not waste precious space and time with obvious stuff. Start with what I don't know: what your book is about.  Or "Dear Snookums" if you insist on a salutation.

Anything else is just useless drivel.  And if you write useless drivel in your query, the chances you write it in  your novel are higher than what I like to take chances reading.

PS You also don't need to mention you're a writer, human, a mammal or you breathe air.   I assume you are not an alien life form contacting Earth for the first time.  I know how that will happen.

Going dark in protest

 The SOPA/PIPA legislation is like wearing your cat for a hat. You may need a warm head but your cat is the wrong kind of fur. Here's more on this from the LA Times and from Money Magazine

There's a really good bit about SOPA here at Unshelved too.

Yea, so I didn't much like 11/22/63

And I'm sure Stephen King is crushed to hear it.
(insert sound of snortling laughter all the way from Maine.)

I'm a devoted fan of Stephen King's book ON WRITING which I think every writer should own, read and re-read.

I'd never read anything else of his cause I'm a wuss when it comes to horror and supernatural stuff. I saw that movie about the car that comes alive and it terrified me.

So, when Stephen King turned his hand to the JFK assassination, I figured it was  time to dive in.  850 pages of depth, but I was ready. I read it last weekend.  In about 36 hours. There was some sleeping and some eating, but not much else.

I was right there with him for the first 150 pages.  Stephen King can REALLY write, but you don't need me to tell you that. Many of you not only already know, you've got favorites among his many MANY novels.

Then as the novel moved forward it lost momentum.  The plot just fell in on itself and flailed.

And worse, he didn't do anything new or interesting with time travel.  Think about it: Stephen King has imagined stuff that has haunted our dreams for years. New and interesting ways to do all sorts of blood curdling stuff.  But this time travel was essentially ho-hum. I'd seen it all before cause I've seen all three Back to the Future movies. (yea, more than once, I admit it.)

I expected more. Not fairly perhaps, given "more" implies he being held to higher standard than other writers. But honestly, he's Stephen King. I expect him to knock my sox off, and when he didn't it feels like a disappointment.

But, I'd have been disappointed if someone other than Stephen King had turned this in. Of course, with anyone else, it would have been chopped down to 400 pages first thing. And I'm not sure it would have gotten published. It's not terrible (despite what the Pittsburgh critic said) but it's not a book I put down and wanted to start talking to people about.  Well, ok that's not true. I did. But what I wanted to say was "You LIKED this?"


And just in case Stephen King is reading this (cue those snortles again) here's a link to a post about how to deal with soul-crushing bad reviews.