Vacation Day #3: Gossamer

Do you make time to think every day?
A time to just let your mind run wild or lie fallow or disconnect from the electronic din of daily life?

Do you let your imagination loose to play on gossamer wings?

Getting ready!

Gossamer

I spent yesterday afternoon in the office, mostly to start adapting to being back at work before Tuesday lands with all four feet.  It was lovely to be back, and a client sent in a manuscript that kept me reading long past when I should have gone home.

Today, I'll be heading back in and making my To Do list first for what needs attention in the next week and then what needs attention in the next two weeks.  I have a feeling we're not all going to be full tilt boogie till next week. This was a LONG luxurious holiday break.

This is the first year in quite some time that January has not been devoted to preparing client 1099s. To say I am looking forward to going back to just agent work this week is a vast understatement.

Speaking of luxurious, here is Gossamer, my beloved furry friend from afar, whom you might recognize as the face of Chum Bucket.

I would love to be able to restart Chum Bucket. It's on my list of goals.

Is there anything you're hoping to start, or resume in 2017?

Week in Review 7/3/16

Welcome to the week that was. This review is a tad terse. I wrote much of it earlier this week, and then managed to lose the document. I think I trashed it thinking it was the review for the previous week.  You do not want to hear what I called myself when I realized what I had done.

In last week's review Dena Pawling and Melissa Alexander asked about cancelled books:

>>A first time novelist with a three book contract has to sell well enough that the publisher wants to publish books 2 and 3. It's not a given they will.

 If it's a three book contract, but books two and/or three end up not published, how does the publisher get out of the contract? Does it buy out the author? Are books two and three optioned only?

If Book #1 tanks, the publisher will often cancel the contract. The author keeps the money they've been paid for it (generally the on-signing portion of the contract) and the rights are returned to the author. There's a clause in the contract that allows publishers to do that.  It's more likely to happen on Book #3 than Book #2. I've seen an uptick in this happening in YA. 

There are contracts for #2 and #3, not options, but a publisher is not obliged to publish if sales don't support it.

Dena Pawling also asked:

>>Librarians take note of circulation. If lots of library users request Donnaeve's novel, and it circulates well, that will help her now, and on Book #2.

How do publishers and other industry folks know about circulation? Do libraries report those numbers anywhere?

No. They just buy additional copies if the demand exceeds the supply.

Lisa Bodenheim asked:

One question though. All of your tasks that you did last week, you mentioned #7 plotted and schemed on submission next step for a book that is getting no love. Is this a book that you and client are seeking a publisher yet?

Yes. After  a couple rounds of submission we need to consider if we're going to go for a digital-only deal, or one of the smaller publishers that requires an exclusive sub, or whether we'll withdraw this one and go again with the Book-Being-Written.

xinraina asked:

Wait, is Gossamer yours too? How many cats do you have, Janet?

Sadly, Gossamer belongs to DLM, not me. I just like to look at him cause he's a fabulously furry fellow.

I actually have ZERO cats. Both the Duchess of Yowl, and Loaner Cat live elsewhere most of the time. They just come visit me when their real moms go on vacation. I run a summer camp for cats!

BunnyBear asked:

Does QueryManager allow you to create a thread for requests, or are you back to using email to keep track of those?

I don't know what a thread for requests means.  Give me a couple more sentences here.

Donnaeve tried to hide her follow-up question in Monday's post, but aha! I spotted it:

One more time on the SASE GREAT IDEA. (no, I don't wish to be zipped off to Carkoon). You argued your logic quite eloquently. I promise after this two tiny comments (think of them like whispers) to NEVER bring it up again. My theory was you wouldn't reply back by snail mail. You'd only receive queries via snail mail but you'd reply back via email. (they'd include their email when they queried.)

So, tell me, what's this email address: DonnaEve101. Is it 101 or lOl?

Hard to tell isn't it:

On Monday we talked about Dana Kaye's upcoming book on branding

Mile O'Neal said what a lot of us are thinking:

I need this now, not in September!

Kdjames asked:

Janet/Dana, do you know whether this will eventually be available as an ebook? I hope so, as I'm a total convert to that format and really want to buy this book. In the meantime, I've added it to my wish list.

I'm sure it will be since the publisher started as a digital only press!

On Tuesday we talked about how to market books withoutannoying your target audience:

Sam Hawke made a good point on the value of word of mouth promotion:

This is such good advice. Aside from books from authors I already know and love, I'd say virtually every book I've read in the last 2 years has been because of a) recommendations from friends (direct or indirect recommendations) or b) looking up someone's novels because I enjoy the person on social media. I buy most of my books on kindle these days, and I find the Amazon store impossible to browse, now. I can't trust their algorithms to not suggest me terrible crap. So I rely on hearing about books by talking to other people about books. That's all I have time for. But it totally works!

Colin Smith was the first of several who did not get joke:

Book marketing calls? I only ever get calls from survey-takers (especially political ones at the moment), and the occasional credit card company. I guess the book marketers have yet to get to me.

And it's hilarious Colin missed the joke since he's got a few good ones up his sleeve:

Of course, she didn't mention my advocacy of a certain Australian author of Ancient Greek mystery stories. It seems I'm not doing my job well enough. Maybe one day Janet will pick up one of his books. Who knows, maybe she'll enjoy it... :D

And I just loved this from E M Goldsmith:

So I went to the beach last week. I open my backpack and find I have forgotten to pack the lovely Gary Corby books. Yes, I picked these up because of word of mouth – specifically Colin’s glowing recommendations. Well, no matter, I decide to head off to the local bookstore, Books-A-Million, a small chain I think, to pick up the book once more. Yes, I am willing to buy a second copy of these books and leave for the beach house’s library. It is a rule when you visit my family’s beach house that you must read- it’s a wonderful thing to do in the sun.

I get to the bookstore and no Gary Corby. I complain to the manager who promises to check into these wonderful books. I hope he orders them. Instead, I peruse the bookshelves. Like a lot of yet to be published authors, I dream about where my books will appear on the shelves. I also notice that there is not a lot of room for new authors. Nearly all the horror section is taken up by Stephen King. There are about five authors in the fantasy section that take up over half of it. I feel a little discouraged for myself and new authors everywhere.

Eventually, I decide on three books, a Lee Child staple, Killing Floor, (there are not enough of these at the beach house and they are terrific beach reads), two best sellers by debut authors, Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard (I have come to think I am just not a YA fan, but it’s not terrible), and The Axeman by Ray Celestin (this is glorious – set in New Orleans about an actual serial murderer with deeply drawn characters and a setting so rich you can feel the heat and wet of NOLA in every page.)

These are the two main ways I find books to read, word of mouth, and bookstore shelves. I hope, when the time comes, I can write something worthy of word of mouth without a mental breakdown. This post is rather comforting in that regard. Also, the reason I want an agent is to improve my chances of getting a place on those bookstore shelves.

Ann Bennett makes a very good point here:

This is great advice. One of the problems of tooting your own book is the same as selling your own home, your emotional investment is too great. I drive by my childhood home and want to pound on the door and tell them they could at least mow the grass.

And Bethany Elizabeth's mom needs to be on my email data base as a targeted helpful reader:

I'm willing to take book recommendations wherever I can get them, but most of the time it's from family or a particular friend whose tastes run similar to mine. That way, good fantasy novels spread through our family like wildfire. You sell a book to my mother, you've really sold 4 copies - one for each branch of the family. Because we will buy it if Momma tells us to.

Donnaeve is discovering the wild world of in-person promotion:

I went to NC State University Theater on Sat. night with four other local authors to talk about our books. (some of you might remember Cat Warren from Bouchercon? She wrote the book, WHAT THE DOG KNOWS) about the cadaver dogs. She was there.

Anyway, folks were attending an Agatha Christie event. I handed a bookmark to a lady who'd asked me a question about my book. She looked at it, asked another question - all very general, what's it about, etc. As she turned to leave, she handed the bookmark back to me.

I said, "You can keep it. I'm handing these out."

She said, "No. Not now."

(???)

I said, "Oh, okay." I took it back. Who's ever heard of handing back a bookmark? Needless to say that little incident was a sour note in an otherwise great experience.

In my misspent youth as  book publicist, my job was often to accompany writers to signings at bookstores. Sometimes the crowd was…thin.  People would pass by, pick up a book, look it over, put it back down and move on. All while the author was sitting right there with me.  Excruciating doesn't begin to describe it.  I think that's where I learned to carry a flask of whisky in my saddlebags.

InkStainedWench (not wretch, no matter how many times I type that!) asked:

Question: I'd like to write more reviews, but many of the books I read aren't new. Either they're years old, from the library, or I bought them and it takes me a while to get to them. Does it still help the author and/or other readers if I review a book that isn't a new release?

Well, Charles Dickens doesn't need much word of mouth boost, so books that old, probably not.

On the other hand it's not uncommon for a book to become a word of mouth success several YEARS after publication. Recently, I saw an author on Twitter  say she'd hit the NYT list three years post-publication. (I forgot to screen shot the tweet, dammit.)

I think any kind of thoughtful well written review is a plus.

On Wednesday we talked about re-using parts of an old novel in a new one, and how to approach agents who'd requested/read the old one.

Julie M. Weathers asked:

I'm wondering if the exception to not mentioning the agent passed is when they passed on Angels in my Rear View Mirror but asked to see future works.

Yes, that's my oversight, sorry. If an agent asks to see future work, you definitely do want to say that at the top of the query.

and further:

Unbelievably, I've been at conferences and heard people start up conversations with agents with, "Hi, my name is Author Joe. You rejected my manuscript, but I still like you." It's so cringe worthy I can't even imagine what the agent is thinking. How are they supposed to respond. "Oh, thanks."

There is nothing worse than having a writer introduce him or herself this way. I'm always at a loss for what to say. "Obviously I was out of my mind" of course is what I usually say, which I hope is funny enough divert the conversation to other things, and signals to the writer that this isn't a place I want to explore further. The other choice is to explain that I don't take on a lot of very good books, but then we get bogged down in details of that particular book.  

This is the kind of thing that leads me to not wear a name tag at author events, and in fact make someone ELSE wear my name tag (yes I've done that)

On Thursday we talked about do-overs, or what to do when yourealize you've REALLY flubbed up a query:

Jennifer R. Donohue said

And no ma'am, I will not tell a bitching agent on Twitter to suck it up. I will, depending, remove them from my list and perhaps unfollow. But if OTHER agents wanted to tell him/her to suck it up.....

Celia Reeves said

I might THINK about telling a whining agent on Twitter to suck it up, and I might even write that tweet, but I'd never send it. Didn't we have a discussion here a while ago about professionalism in public spaces? I'd have to satisfy myself with snickering about the agent to my friends.

On Friday the A lot of Books writing contest went up! I'm cleaning my bookshelves and have quite a few terrific books to give away as a Grand Prize!

 Results should go up on Monday.

Here's a terrific blogpost about y'all!

subheader noms:

In the interest of authors everywhere, you should know that a buttload of wine is officially 126 gallons or two hogsheads.--Julie M. Weathers

Sometimes you just have to be fearless. What's an agent going to do? Hit delete twice?"--Julie M. Weathers

Gossamer!

Gossamer, the editor cat!

It's that time of year again, time for some vacation and blog hiatus.

Send me pictures of your Author Familiars, along with some info about them (how they arrived, what they think of your WIP, etc!) and I'll post them for the duration of the hiatus (which is 8/20-31)

Thanks to the very speedy blog readers, all the hiatus days are filled.
Some VERY fuzzy folk will be posted here in days to come. 

Thanks to everyone who sent me photos. Honestly, looking at these happy faces was almost as therapeutic as vacation!

Week in review 2/15/15

And what  a week it's been, mostly due to the weather. I'm not much on snow and ice and we've had enough of that this week to last the rest of the year. Of course, readers farther north are getting hit much harder, so I should probably remember "it could be worse!"

Last week's WIR found Colin Smith suggesting a dedicated blog for the flash fiction contests.  Flying monkeys descended on Colin's house and he was summarily freeze-fried, then transported to the Great Pit of Carkoon, where if he very lucky, some droids might come along to save him.

A dreadful typo on John "Ol Chumbucket" Baur's name had to be fixed. Baur like Reid, Kristin and Sean has a million spellings but only one is correct for each person. Honest to Godiva (only one spelling) you'd think I of all people would remember that.

Jenz has one of the best lines of the week here, continuing the discussion on suspense and tension: "Ah, the hardships of writing first person. You can't just stick a bomb under the table."

Monday was the flash fiction contest results.  Kitty pointed out that the writer with the "best typo" erased the entry (which is a shame, but it's the writer's choice, can't argue)  The typo itself was tomb for tome.  I loved it.

One of our winners was Amy Schaefer and many of you know Amy does not live in the cold dark north. In fact, the only way to get real books to her involve hand-offs at the airport and secret passwords.  Because the prize (the ARC of SIGNAL by Patrick Lee) would have been both an arm AND a fin in postage, I sent her an electronic copy.

And she replied with this.

Yea, me too.

Tuesday's blog post was a follow up from a reader's question last year. I really love follow-ups in case any of you are wondering about sending them.

Tuesday's comments included this from our own TLC: 

"Lawyers have been known to use their powers for good. I got a guy custody of his son that wasn't his biologically (he'd been in prison when the deed occurred,) but that he accepted and raised as his own. When she started making noises about the whole thing, saying he wasn't the dad, I told him to give her a copy of the divorce and say, "Bitch, I've got a receipt."   

A perfect 72-word almost-story.

Wednesday's post was on exclusives. I debated about posting this question since I've ranted about the evil of exclusives for so long I'm starting to bore even myself. But I thought, this really wasn't about an agent asking for an exclusive, so much as asking about the competition, so I thought it might be useful.

Colin Smith (rescued by droids it appears) asked

 "Is it okay for an agent to ask who else is reading a ms? If I queried you and told you Barbara Poelle, Darley Anderson, and Ellen Geiger were also looking at my ms, how would that matter? That may be an impressive list, but surely what matters most at this stage is that YOU love the query and ms, not which of your colleagues/competitors are looking at it?"

Mostly I want to know how serious the competition is when I ask who else is reading it.  If Barbara Poelle is reading, the competition is pretty stiff. My only advantage here is that I read faster than she does (sometimes) and I can sometimes divert her attention from matters at hand with a case of Polish vodka. 

If a writer tells me it's an agent in Crawdad, North Dakota that I've never heard of and hasn't made any sales, and her website mentions how much she loves writers, well, that's competition of a different sort.

And frankly if it's an agent I have serious reservations about, I've been known to reply that research is the author's friend. Even if they sign with Agent Trouble, I've at least told them how to avoid that. Some people can not be diverted, and I feel bad for them, but that's the state of the world.

Thursday we sauntered over to the prologue aisle and had some fun. Diane (DLM) asked a question that I'm sure many writers wonder: 

"As to formatting ... dropping images into Word is super easy. I may not be understanding whether/why that isn't an option if .doc is preferred?"

For me, images can make a word .doc so big I can't actually open it. AND it screws up spacing  and page count.  This is an ironclad rule of querying: leave OUT images unless the agent has expressly said ok.  In other words, at the query stage, it's text only. No exceptions. At the requested manuscript stage it might change, but don't count on it.

On Friday we were talking about how to interpret requests for "next work" when Diane realized that Gossamer has become the face of the Chum Bucket.

Funny story about how that happened:  Google sent me a notice saying I was running out of space. I futzed around in my Google account and couldn't figure out why there were so many pictures. I looked at a couple of them, and couldn't even remember why I had them.  Soooo… (insert ominous noise here) I deleted them. All of them.  And only later, and very slooowly did I realize I'd erased most of the images from this blog. All of the hilarious pictures…gone. And the Chum Bucket image, gone.  When I realized this, I just used Goss's picture, cause really, Gossamer is the best thing to look at when you're feeling very very stupid.

Saturday's blog post on "unpublishable" topics REALLY hit a nerve. It generated the most comments of any post other than contests in quite some time.

This is the comment, from CarolynnWith2Ns, that tugged my heart:

I thought about this post all day today at work. When I left at four I had NPR on the radio in the car and listened to The Moth, their storytelling show.

Coincidence is a strange beast and it rode with me on the way home.

The first story told was by Paul Knoll a school guidance counselor. (800 Heros)
In a quiet voice he gently told the story of what happened at the school where he worked four years before Columbine. When he started to speak I thought God was playing a cruel joke on me, why this story, why today. God wasn’t joking, he was teaching me, (a person who always has an answer for something), a lesson.

As the story continued I was riveted. I had never heard about this incident and yet it seemed so familiar because of all the other incidents which have ripped at my heart.

It was snowing when I left work so I was driving slowly. As I neared home, and the story came to a close I drove even slower, not wanting to miss the ending, even though I was sure what it would be. It was not.

My comment this morning was a knee-jerk reaction to grief. I’m not apologizing for that. I do stand by my words BUT…to the questioner I say this:

If you can write your book, like Paul Knoll told his story, you will see it published. I’d read it and I never thought I say that…ever.

And this line from Julie Weathers will haunt me forever: "The salesman kept apologizing for not having more caskets, but business was so good they couldn't keep baby caskets in stock."

If the tone of the comments turned a little down, that's  ok with me. I respect that readers are willing to talk about things that aren't puppies and kittens and unicorn rainbows here.  The only comments that get deleted are those that attack other commenters (particularly for grammar or spelling) or are seriously off topic.

While reading your comments keeps me occupied, I have had time recently to finish a couple books. 

I'd been working on Midnight in Europe by Alan Furst for a long time (it was my SudsYerDuds reading for weeks.) I'm a rabid drooling fan of Alan Furst, and writers who are interested in historical fiction would do well to read him closely. He's a master at creating suspense (or tension!) in a world where we know the outcome of large events.  And he evokes time and place better than almost anyone I can think of.

The Wife, the Maid, and the Mistress by Ariel Lawson was on my shelf for a while. I picked it up cause I needed subway reading.  I picked at it for weeks, finally finished it. This is a really good example of three different points of view (all written in third person) to tell one story. The precipitating event is the disappearance of Judge Crater which is an old New York mystery. 

Meet Your Baker by Ellie Alexander is a delightful new cozy set in Ashland Oregon. Well, I'm a sucker for bake shops, and Oregon, and when I got this I dove right in.  Cozies can set my teeth on edge if they're too cute, and too removed from reality, but this one hit all the right notes.  Plus, I was SHOCKED to find out who the culprit was. That does not happen often at all.

On Thursday I was delighted to get an ARC of the new Lyndsay Faye novel, The Fatal Flame.  I wrote about how it arrived here on my Facebook page.  Not much work got done on Saturday cause I was busy reading.  Let's just say if you want a good book, read Lyndsay Faye. The first in the series   [GODS OF GOTHAM] was nominated for an Edgar.  What I admire most is how she's developing her characters in the series.  This is definitely a book I'd recommend to writers. This one, the third, goes on sale May 15.  I think you can count on a flash fiction writing contest.

On Wednesday night I attend an author event for Sandra Newman's THE COUNTRY OF ICE CREAM STAR. The book is written in "future patois." Interestingly Lyndsay Faye's characters also speak a kind of patois called "flash." I thought it was interesting that I ended up with two books using a kind of special language as a device within a few days of each other.

And last of all, I've been reading the first three installments of my client Michael Bassin's trip to the Democratic Republic of Congo.  Harrowing is just about the only word I can think of.

And of course, like everyone who reads crime, I'm watching the new Amazon series BOSCH based on Michael Connelly's novels.  Are you? What do you think?

Flash fiction contest results-FINAL

A very low turn out this week, the heat must be getting to us all!
There was no reduction in quality though; you guyz are bringing your A-game for sure.

Herewith the results

votre*astre

“Phew,” Ella said, a mild sneeze. A few cinders fell down the flue, powdering her nose. She scrubbed at it, smearing darker circles under sleepless eyes.

“Tsk.” The Prince chided, handing over a crisp white handkerchief. He liked her clean. The few times Ella had checked a mirror, she’d seen nothing that could be improved upon with scouring. Obedience came more naturally than obstinance, though, so she swept away the ash but left behind insomnia’s bruises. 

“He already flew away,” she said.

“Check again,” the Prince urged, holding a lump of coal in his hand. “I’m certain this was misdelivered.”

This is so deliciously subtle it makes me wriggle with pleasure.

B.I.Hirsch

Detective Norris fell on the ashen ice.

“Dammit.” She absently pocketed a charred paper scrap pulled from her hand.

“Arson?” Officer Franks helped her.

Norris shrugged. They shuffled to the first untouched home.

“See anything last night?” she asked when old man Forti answered.

“Tipped a few by the fire. Suddenly everything’s ablaze.”

“Here?” She examined the hearth, then tsked.

Norris patted her pockets before finding the scrap. “Phew! The stolen treasury linen with colored threads–useless without a security strip. I’d no leads until your fire. Bits flew up your flue to your neighbor’s roof.”

Always appreciate a shout out to "old man Forti"!

french sojourn

Through an arched window, a warm light invaded the underside of the cold stone stairway. It illuminated a blind old spider’s carcass, tangled in a regale spiderweb. His fool and Kent stood guard over him, from the convenience of a nearby chimney flue.

“Tsk-tsk, don’t laugh again fool, for he was tormented by webs of his own design.”

“His nephew, past curfew, flew to his daughter.”

“He waited for her, out of 800 he had only one true.”

“Surely, he knew she had 200 ravenous babies.”

“I blame his death on them, and Cordelia’s inability to visit on gossamer wing.”

I wanted to love this because it's gorgeous and subtle but I got tripped up by regale.
I looked it up and there are two definitions, the first to entertain, the second a sumptuous feast.
Verb and noun.

It's used here as an adjective so I was perplexed.

Steve Forti

“Let’s keep a level head here. We don’t know for sure if you have it.”

“But what if, Lou? I’m scared. I should’ve stayed in. It’s just… it’s too much.” After her outing, they’d barred the doors, locked the windows. Even closed the flue. You know, in case she concocted some floo powder and escaped that way. “Time is crawling trapped in here. Remember when summers flew by?”

The phone rang. Caller ID sent adrenaline through her achy body. Lou waited as she hung up.

“Phew. It’s just the flu. Few days of rest and plenty of fluids.”

too realistic for me!!
although a concoction of floo powder may be just what I need!

Timothy Lowe

“More timpani! And what’s with the pouting? I need less attitudes, people!”

“Fewer,” said a flueglhorn.

“Precisely!” said the man with the baton, who claimed to be a great-grandnephew of Tchaikosky. “We can’t do the 1812 overture if we’re busy correcting grammar!”

“B-b-but,” stammered a trombone. “We’re the Melbourne Grammar Symphony Orchestra!”

“Irregardless,” shouted the conductor. “Now play!”

Squeaks and squeals. A baton snapped in frustration.

“Jesus, people! We’re falling apart. Altogether, now!”

A shoe flew by his ear.

“Who through that? Nevermind! We’ve got to count skillfully, or --”

BOOM!

The cannoneer shrugged. “At least he didn’t split his infinitive.”

who through that indeed!!!
And more timpani should come with more cowbell, no? 


Colin Smith

We were breaking curfew to meet, but it was worth the risk. I crouched in the shadows of the ruined courthouse while searchlight beams flew overhead. In the distance I heard shots. Karen’s nephew was hit on the way last night. She won’t be out tonight.

I crept to the abandoned shack and slipped through the doorway. The others were already there, huddled close together. Flickering candlelight danced over our excited faces. Lin opened the book and, since only she could translate Chinese fluently, began, her voice quiet but strong:

“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth…”

ooh, this is masterful.
Very very subtle and powerful


Matt Krizan

Sand swirled around Chumly as the airship flew away.

“Whadja do?” A grizzled old man eyed Chumly curiously.

“Disagreed with her.”

“That’d do it.” The old man nodded. “Name’s Requin. I’m the caretaker here. An’ ‘fore you ask… I ain’t got no influence over t’Queen. C’mon…”

Chumly followed him to a shanty town of goatskin huts. “How many others are there?”

“Phew, these days? A hunnerd. Bit less, maybe.”

“Fewer!” a querulous voice cried out from a nearby hut.

“Quiet, Forti!” Requin held open a vacant hut’s flap for Chumly. “Welp, this ‘un here’s yers. Welcome to Carkoon.”

Honestly, I always get a laugh when entries have Mr. Forti and other blog readers on Carkoon. I know it says nothing good about me...but then again there's not much good to be said!


Jennifer Rand

"Phew! Fewer than I expected flew in. I got the flue closed just in time. Any more and we'd be finished!"

"Tsk-tsk. Get a grip, man. The deadly ones are red," he said, eyeing the tiny winged objects landing on his arm. Tears welled in his eyes as it dawned on him. Slowly he lifted his tinted safety glasses.

rose colored glasses by any other name.
This is very subtle.
not quite a story but terrific writing.


Mallory Love

The manor was on the outskirts of town. Everyone was en route. The nephew flew from Austin; the son drove from Boston. Nothing brought affluent families together as much as the last rites of a relative with a few hundred million to spare.

Wellington wasn’t ready to die. But if he must, it’d be like he did everything else: on his own terms.

His family wailed phony sympathy, but their hunger for power was very real as they jostled each other to claim his attention. No one smelled the gas. Wellington drew one last breath before he struck the match.

"a few hundred million to spare" just cracked me up.


C. H. Reaver

"And I'm saying our nephew will be a bad influence on Timothy and John!"

His wife was displeased. "Karl doesn't talk like that out of spite." She turned to her kids. "I know it's...kind of difficult to communicate with your cousin, but I think you should try. Perhaps you could find a way to understand each other."

Tim snorted. "ROFL."
"Ew, no," said John.

"I had much rather bite the dust than speak another word to these fopdoodles," vociferated Karl indignantly.

I'm adopting fopdoodle forthwith.
I love this.
It's not quite a story but I don't care. It's hilarious!


Marie McKay

Her voice was velvet like the night sky. She'd read aloud 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest' each evening. A dark joke. Residents gathered. Few listened.

She had one photo, a nephew's.

Her afternoons were unsettled; fragments of lyrical phrases left behind as she darted around. I wasn't fluent in Italian but understood enough to know how misunderstood she's been; to recognise those deep scars of othering a life of isolation brings.

Today, a surprise for her in the visitors' room:

"Gianno!" He recognised the voice from his childhood, the aunt's he'd only ever heard from a room next door.

I'm confused a little here. A surprise for her in the visitor's room makes me think she is seeing Gianno for the first time in a long time.

But he'd only ever heard from a room next door made me think they were both living in the asylum,
next door, unbeknownst to each other.

This is lovely lyrical writing despite my perplexion.


JanR

Oooh… what *is* this place?

Ssh! It is a library. There are books.

Err… and green lady with wings? And fireplace? With real fire?

Tsk! It is a *badly run* library. They cannot keep books safe when—

Um. You probably shouldn’t have said—

AAAAAGHHH!

Eeeek… help! Miss, my friend, she flew up the flue. I mean… that chimney, she vanished, there were purple sparks…

Heh. It’s just a spell that expels sticklers someplace sticky. She’s in the glue aisle at the hobby store. Unharmed.

Phew… hmmm… so this library is magical?

Ah. With an open mind, they all are.

Expels sticklers to someplace sticky???
Maybe the best line of the year.
Love this.

RosannaM

June 15, 2025

Dear Grandma Jones,

Thank u for my Huhwhyee trip. I flue over Twosday. I will stay fewer than fourteen days. Maybe to weeks. Uncle Jeffs nephew had the flew so he cant come with me. Sux for him. LOL.

I will go to the beech alot and may be learn to serf. OH! I saw see turtles. Their huge, but the natesure peeple wont let you near them. Hoola dancers preformed at a loo-Ow tonight. Cant wate.

Its kinda skary being a grown up now, but Mike Rows skewl looks cool.

Luv,

You’re grandaughter Brittany Ella (Jones)

I have a feeling I'm missing something about this one.

travelkat

The True Story of A Reluctant Chimney Sweep, Who Tumbled Into The Hearth, And Was Subsequently Mistaken For A Raven

There once was a bird from Nantucket,

Who flew down the flue in a bucket.

He said. “Phew, tsk this task,

There are few that dare ask,

Gulls don’t sweep a chimney, we duck it.”

Wonderful use of a title!




For the first time in years (I think) I have the winner right away: Colin Smith.

The subtlety of your entry was brilliant.
There was an entire story there without a word of it on the page.
That's brilliant writing.

Drop me a line and let me know what you'd like to read!


Thanks to all of you who wrote and posted entries.
It was a pleasure to read your work, and it was a welcome break from the tasks of the day.


I should mention that next week's flash fiction contest will use words from this' week's entries.

Of course fopdoodle will be one of them!

flash fiction contest results...well, no, not yet

A picture of one of my favorite cats, Gossamer, to tide you over.   I'm hoping to post results around noon, but you guyz are NOT making this easy on me.

Results are now up.

Contest results-preliminary FINAL

You guyz really come up with some good stuff on short notice.

Here are the ones that made me laugh, or made me go "awwww."

The Seasick Mermaid

He sees you when you're sleeping.
He nuzzles you awake.
He knows if your tuna is bad or good.
Hurry up with the can opener, for goodness' sake!

Brian Schwarz

Ever get that feeling someone is watching you? Can't imagine why...

BJ Muntain

Secret agent cat, secret agent cat.
They've encroached upon your naptime and posted it online.

charlogo

Gossamer's superpower: horizontal surveillance.

Steve Forti

Pssssst. Hey kid. Down here. Wanna buy some catnip?

E.M. Goldsmith

Socks and quarters - that is my mission. No matching socks. Any spare change. If a human looks, disguise myself as the cat. No word will ever be said of the lurking sock demon of the couch.

Beth Carpenter

It's there, isn't it? That rejection, waiting in my special inbox. Well, it will never find me here.

Kathi

Welcome to my new flat. I'd ask you in but...

Lisa Bodenheim

Is it safe? La Slitherina and The Wombat are ok. But Death Kitten? Watch out!

Robert Ceres

I see you.

I have a winner in mind but let me know who you think it should be. Final results around noon (Eastern Shark Time)

FINAL RESULTS

Each of these was worthy of a win, and it was very hard to choose let me tell you.

Although I only posted a snippet of BJ Muntain's entry, there was an entire song offered up. That was effort above and beyond the call of the catnip.

And I'm glad to see that many of you agreed with me. The winner this week is indeed BJ Muntain!

BJ if you'll send me your mailing address and some of the books on your wish list, I'll send you a prize!

Thanks to all of you who took the time to write entries and post them. It was a lovely break in the weekend and a serious mood elevator.  Very much appreciated by all of us who read them.

And now, back to the trenches. BEA is over. BookCon is wrapped up for a year. Time to wade into the work that arrived while I wasn't looking!

Contest results!

At long last, the contest results! These got delayed because I was off tormenting writers in person instead of from the comfort of my sharkly chair at home.

Herewith the results

Not quite a story, but a great scene and unfortunately disqualified because of time (7:56am)

W.R. Gingell 7:56 am

Not quite a story, but incredibly creepy

Timothy Lowe 8:00am

Not quite a story but a great scene!

CynthiaMc 8:24am

Not quite a story but this is so vivid!

Kathryn Clark 2:00pm

Wonderful use of prompt words

LynnRodz 9:52am

"Comon'inDiana"

"BooKnickerbreaker"

"thermastattoo"

"wafflew"

"whoused ta say"

This is so surrealistic that I kinda loved it even though it was…surrealistic

Dionne 10:08am

Tony Clavelli 2:20am

Holy smokes, these are the prompts from this contest AND the last one!

Degree of difficulty: 5.2!

Lance 11:15am

One of the great lines of all time in a contest

Scott Sloan 11:35am

"Hoosier daddy, now?"

Even Gossamer the cat cannot save this entry from my screams of terror!

Lynn Person 11:55am

Not a dry eye in the house on this one

Donnaeve 2:08pm

This isn't quite a story but I love the homage to the Music Man, so artfully done!, that I just want to sing!

kdjames 4:23pm

This isn't quite a story, but it's GREAT writing

Joel Freiburger 5:21pm

Not quite a story but anything that ends is shark tattoo is aces in my book!

Gabby Gilliam 8:57pm

And Matt Adams is going to earn gross out points FOREVER on that one: 9:14pm

I really loved the POV on this one

Just Jan 10:02pm

Not quite a story but so hilariously awfully true!

Megan laughman 12:02am

And here are the finalists:

(1) Colin Smith 10:15am

As was his custom, Sam Jones let his tattoos tell the story:

A book, because Ronald was their bookkeeper.

A waffle, because Ronald talked too much.

A house, like the one where Ronald met with the Feds.

A map of Indiana. Sam smiled as he finished the star marking both Indianapolis and the bullet wound. He liked these cryptic clues to his identity.

He took a step back to admire his handiwork.

"Okay, Mojo, take him away."

Mojo heaved Ronald's limp body off the metal table and carried him out the door while Sam made the call.

"Job done, boss."

You've got to love a story with a minion named Mojo!

(2) Steve Forti 10:53am

Jan1: New year, new love?

Feb14: Heart-shaped waffles! Jason is soooo sweet!

April1: Woke up with “Property of Jason” henna tattoo. Not cool!

June5: Big fight. So confused.

Aug11: I miss my friends.

Sep29: ER docs suspicious. Convinced them I’m clumsy.

Nov2: Still wearing Halloween makeup. Staying in house.

Nov18: No escape. He’ll never let me get away.

How could she do this to me? What went on in Diana’s head? I let the notebook dangle from my fingers, eyeing the last page.

Dec9: Payback, asshole. The poison’s already on your fingers. Buck up, honey. I’ll be seeing you soon.

It's a stunning achievement to have a dual POV in a one-hundred word story. AND a twist at the end. This is just brilliant work.

(3) Peggy Rothschild 11:05am

    My head throbbed. What happened last night?

    Right. I paid my BOOKie, then met Janelle. Like usual, she’d strutted into the bar like she owned the place.

    “What’s up?”

    “Hello to you, too. You left your INDIANA Jones hat at my HOUSE.”

    Smoothing the brim, I stood. “It’s called a fedora.”

    “Whatever. Stay for a drink.” She gave a heart-breaker smile.

    I WAFFLEd, then sat. After that, the night blurred.

    My headache sharpened. I stumbled to the bathroom, leaned against the sink and moaned. The word ‘A**’ was TATTOOed in blue across my forehead.

    Good thing Janelle returned my hat.

I like that quick little sentence at the end that just adds the perfect amount of twist.

(4) Darling Kitty 11:26am

Frances smashed my finger in the waffle maker for covering up Dad’s weekend trysts with Maureen.

Inflammation.

Maureen tattooed “Accomplice” in black marker on my forearm after I used Dad’s Chromebook and “accidentally” deleted his emails to Diana.

Indelible.

Diana threatened to burn down our townhouse unless I revealed the name of Dad’s new ladylove.

Incendiary.

Later she apologized over a bowl of my homemade menudo.

Indigestion.

Cops stopped me just shy of the Illinois border, driving a rented Beemer.

Incognito.

Already dug up Frances, they said. Tell us where you put Maureen.

Inculpated.

Told the truth, as always.

“InDiana.”


This took my breath away. You really have to read this twice to see the beauty of the structure, and that's a real achievement in 100 words. Amazing work.

(5) Maggie Maxwell 11:30am

There's no place I love more than Grandma's house. Every room's tattooed with my childhood. Crayon on the wall where us kids drew our own picture books. Grandma didn't want to paint over original art. Ice cream stains from fumbled waffle cones. Grandma didn't like the carpet color anyway. Dents in doors from recreating Indiana Jones's boulder scene. Grandma didn't care about door dents, just kid dents.

I asked her to leave the house to me, but Grandma didn't change her will.

I light a match.

Grandma didn't understand. No one else can have her house. Just me. Only me.

I love the contrast of the first person narrator who "loves" Grandma's house with those last three sentences. Very deft.

(6) Alan Milner  12:08pm

I looked up from my book when Joe took the Muncie exit.

“Muncie, Indiana? Really? You found a job in Muncie? That’s the big surprise?”

Joe shrugged. “Gotta go where the work is.”

We passed the old Waffle House. “Grew up here. Used to eat there when I was a kid.”

“I know. Wanna stop?”

“Sure.”

Joe pulled off the road to make a U-turn. Stopped.

“What’s up?”

The big Beretta appeared like magic.

“Your number is.”

“Why?”

“The tattoo lady says good-bye.”

“Why Muncie?”

“You came home, despondent. Killed yourself.”

Joe never saw the Baby Browning. I’m that fast.


I would have left off that last sentence, but I still like this.

(7) Steven 3:29pm

Momma always said Indiana would serve as the bookends of my life; I just didn’t think I’d return before Daddy’s last breath.

Her panicked call yesterday, as she waffled between reporting his drunken advances and reminiscing happier times, is the reason for my revoked teenage pledge to steer clear of Jasper.

As I drove, I recalled many horrid nights I’d use his chest wide cobra tattoo as a meditational focal point for escape.

When I entered, Daddy manacled my wrist as Momma, clenching her tattered housecoat, bolted for the door, saying, “Tag, princess. Time for my twenty years of freedom.”

This twist is so terrifying I can barely read it twice!
YIKES! 
Something so evocative in 100 words is a real achievement.

(8) Dena Pawling 3:52pm

Welcome to Indiana!

    I was never so glad in my life to see that sign. Ten long months......

    So tired of flipping through guidebooks, living out of suitcases, eating strange food in even stranger restaurants, pantomiming communications with tattooed strangers.

    No more “Does anyone here speak English?”

    No more “Yes, I speak. Sorry. Please you no stand chair sit? Thank you.”

    No more! I'm home at last. Time for a down-home American breakfast.

    “Velcome to ze house of ze vaffle.”

    “It's waffle.”

    “Zat iss vat I said. Vaffle.”

    Sigh.

    “Does anyone here speak English?”

Ze House of Ze Vaffle may be my new favorite phrase!



The winner this time was a pretty easy choice. It was the entry that took my breath away.  Darling Kitty, if you'll email me with your mailing address and the kinds of books you like to read, we'll get a prize in the mail to you.


Thanks to all of you who entered, and congrats to all the entries that caught my eye.

Youze guyz are a talented lot!

Wait, where did it go?

This is Gossamer, the cat who is looking for that hour we lost this morning. It might be hiding under the fridge.

WE ARE NOT GOOD PEOPLE flash fiction contest results

Clearly there are a lot of you dying to get your mitts on WE ARE NOT GOOD PEOPLE by Jeff Somers (pubbing tomorrow 10/7/14 in fact!)

Here are the results of the contest:

 
-->

Special recognition for a great phrase:

"the smile slips from her face; splattering as it hits the floor."

Jennifer Deane 11:07am

Special recognition for a great line:

Succss smelled of patchouli and incense

D.B. Sundstrom 7:04am

"The Underpants Avenger spoke."

Kim English 2:15pm

"In the morning, he would be just another hangover."

raisedareader 1:49pm

"It’s right here in Diabetic Witch Today."

Karen McCoy 1:39am

Special recognition for entries that weren't quite stories, but if they were

the start of novels, I'd want to read on:

french sojourn 7:07am

boblozzia 11:48am

Jennifer R. Donohue 1:40pm

Jennifer Moorhead 10:37pm

A cameo for Gossamer the cat!

Mark Songer 10:19 am

A cameo for a gun wielding shark!

BonnieShaljean 11:07am

Special recognition for why JedCullan is now dead to me TWICE!

Maligning Reacher! The nerve! Poor Dead Jed.

JedCullan 1:23pm

Every Saturday librarian's secret wish

Christina Seine 4:54pm

Best  non-fiction story

LynnRodz 5:11am

Too horrifying even for me:

"In a bookstore in Tel-Aviv, the saleswoman is clueless about Roxane Gay's "Bad Feminist," and she doesn't know who Patrick Lee is."

Lilac Shoshani 7:00am

And here are the semi-finalists:

D.B. Sundstrom 7:04am

The sign on the door read EDIE'S MAGIC SHOP with no posted hours. She tried the handle anyway. Success smelled of patchouli and incense. She walked toward the psychic's booth in the back, admiring the caricatures of past patrons on the wall, when she spotted her own.

"I've never been here before. Is that, blood?"

The occupants of the past tried to warn her. Their sketched eyes fixed on the door.
But she drew the connection too late.

She found herself looking at the door with the other spirits. One eye drawn slightly larger than the other.

donnaeverhart.com 9:34am

Sunday, under a big tent, Preacher Dan was busy cleansing spirits, urging followers to drink the blood of Christ. His gospel invoked speaking in tongues, a yielding of souls, complete and utter faith.

Doubters whispered, “Its black magic!”

He adjusted his ill-fitting pants, lifted a venomous snake in one hand while waving the other in its face.

It struck!

He stood firm, unwavering, and caterwauled, “A miracle! A message from God himself!"

Believers now, the crowd surged forward, coins raining into his little collection basket.

Only when he headed to the next town, would he remove the prosthetic hand.

Shaunna 9:39am

First time Steve wore the magic pants, it rained cats for a week. No kidding! Fur balls everywhere. And dead birds! He swore he'd put them away, but there's some people...it's in their blood, seems like. Ain't nothing like the spirits of your ancestors in a pair of brown corduroys.

Anyhow, he got antsy and dragged them out again. Couldn't help it, I guess. Folks set out milk and litter boxes. Just to be ready. But they were wrong. Dead wrong. A bit macabre for my taste, but they could have used those cats when the cockroaches showed up.

Kitty 9:41am

How I Became A Man, by Luigi Abbadelli

"Wearing short pants when you're ten is embarrassing. It dispirits the soul," I told Mama.

"Che cosa è dispirits?" asked Nona.

"He wants to wear long pants," Mama said.

"NO!"

Papa was reading the paper. I needed him on my side, so I said, "They're old world."

Mama and Nona gasped because they're still hot-blooded Italians. But Papa was now an American. His framed naturalization certificate was proudly displayed below Pope Pius's picture. "Old world" worked like magic.

Papa stood, straightened his shoulders and categorically declared, "My son will wear long pants!"

Old Fogey 2:21pm

After I finished with April’s cat, Magic, I put the shovel in the shed. I washed blood and mud off my hands and poured some spirits. Knob Creek is my libation of choice. Lately, finances dictated house brands, but tonight my shaking hand found joy.

The only thing magic about that late animal? She’d only peed, pooped, or clawed things belonging to me. That yellow puddle on my novel—stored for safety on a high shelf--had been the last straw.

April entered, yawning. “Blood on your pants,” she said.

A smile.

“And poison in the bourbon.”

Gail 3:26pm

Spirits of dark rum took the blood off those pants like magic. Run away, little hemoglobin molecules, run away! He'll never find out unless he digs up the azalea in the front yard. Ah, I think I hear him now.
"And how's my dollbaby this evening?"
"Sweet and high, my love."
"And where's my little kitty?"
"Out scouting the voles. Back soon."
"What were you gardening, honey, honey, honey?"
"Gardening?" I say. Maybe he knows. Is my face red? I frowned. The shovel! My God, the shovel!
"Meow."
"Oh there you are!"
I stared, slack-jawed. The cat was back.

J.D. Paradise 3:31pm

"Blood Spirits Pants Magic!" Cat chanted, cranked up to 11, laughing in the thrashing crowd. Onstage the Chili Peppers bounced, socks flapping. It was 1996 and I loved a girl who would never love me back.

"Let's run away together," I said later, tangled in dormroom bedding that smelled of Coors and Parliaments. Propped on elbows, inches apart, Cat looking past my shoulder.

Cat, remorseful: "I'll never be that girl."

"I love you anyway." Desperately. "Always."

She tugged the sheet higher. "We shouldn't have done that."

But we had. And just before sunrise, we moved the hitchhiker to the landfill.

Alex King 4:17pm

"Pants? Really?" Ted asked.

The cat looked down at him. "Could be worse."

"Worse how?"

"Could be bloody pants."

"Could be," Ted agreed. "Depends if you're British or not."

The spirits were to blame. He'd distilled them himself, poured some in the cat's bowl for kicks. Now his cat was magic and Ted was a pair of pants.

"Some bad trip," Ted said.

The cat jumped down, onto the floor where Ted lay, limp and hanger-less. "For you, maybe." He unsheathed his claws. They were pale in the moonlight, bleached bone, not keratin. "Abracadabra, now you're a mouse."

Eek!

Just Jan 10:44pm

"Fisher, most likely," Doc said, probing my cat's jugular wounds with a pudgy finger. "She's lucky; a coyote would've killed her."

"Can you work your usual magic?"

"Maybe." He leered at me over the top of his bifocals. "For a price."

"I can pay," I assured him, glancing down at my ratty t-shirt and sweatpants.

He reappeared an hour later, smelling strongly of spirits. "Couldn't save her. Lost too much blood." He lurched toward me. "Time to pay the piper, sweetie."

"It wasn't a fisher," I said, revealing my fangs, "and it isn't me who's going to pay."

And here are the finalists:

Ruthy 9:06am

“Mommy, do cats go to Heaven?”

“God will take good care of Jinxie.”

“Can He do magic and unsquish him?
Maybe he can put some blood back in?”

“Honey, sometimes spirits are better off being free.”

“Is that why Jesus didn’t wear any pants?”

“How about we go to the pet store tomorrow and buy a turtle?”

“Ooh! Okay, Mommy. Don’t worry. I will teach him how to cross the street really fast.”

Michael Seese 9:56am

“Big Brother”
by Michael Seese

"Sorry, cat," I said to the lifeless mass at my feet.

"Mom will be home soon. Get some paper towels."

It was a mess. Lots of blood.

"What are you going to tell her?"

"If we clean up, nothing," David said.

"Can't you tell her the truth? That you heard you could see spirits?"

"Bad idea. You'll understand when you're older."

David was right. There's a lot that's confusing to a six-year-old.

"We're in trouble, aren't we?"

"We'll be fine."

“OK.” Big brothers are magic.

"Hurry. Throw the pants in the fireplace. And her name was Kate, not Cat."

Calorie Bombshell 3:36pm

The vehicle’s occupants didn’t move a muscle as I approached with my flashlight and violation book. Seven years crunching the midnight gravel on Highway 85 and I never clocked a Jaguar doing 140mph before. An $818 magic ticket was one week’s salary, enough to keep my spirits high and mind off the woman who refused to vacate my spare bedroom although I kicked her no good Trickster son out three months ago.

“License and registration, please.”

The antique German Luger leveled at my chest was his, a wedding present from an old college buddy.

The bloodcurdling scream was mine.

Jo-Anne Teal 3:09am

In September, a tenement fence became castle wall to our cat and to my sister’s boyfriend, Geraldo. The cat was best at gaining entry. Neighbors weren’t eager to open the door to human wildlife, particularly someone wearing a blood-stained Nehru and drawstring cotton pants. Too weird even for the East Village.

So while like magic my sister’s stomach expanded, Geraldo waited across the street: sitting cross-legged in front of Renaldo’s grocery, playing broken sitar, drinking spirits from a bottle ineffectively covered by brown paper.

In October, my sister went outside to tell him there was no reason to wait anymore.


And the winner is Ruthy 9:06am!  Ruthy, please email me  your mailing address so we can send you your prize. If you've already read or bought WE ARE NOT GOOD PEOPLE, we'll find you something else that's delicious to read.

Thanks to all the entrants; it was a great round of submissions!  Y'all amaze me every time with your diabolical plotting and clever writing!

8 things I loved in 08

1. My spiffy new Kindle leads the list. Are you sick of reading my gushing posts about the Kindle? I've yapped enough about it here previously that I'll just say this now:

I wouldn't have bought one as soon without Kristin Nelson leading the way. Kristin has been a friend, colleague and sounding board for years. When she bought one, and showed it to me, and told me how much she valued it, I got one for myself. Thanks Kristin!


2. Google reader. I subscribe to 144 blogs. I follow all my clients, and as many of the trade oriented blogs I can find like bookstores, editors, other agents, and interesting observers of the scene. The ONLY way I can do that efficiently is by using Google reader. I know it's helped me help my clients. If you're not on Google reader, I encourage you to do so.



3. Twitter. I use Twitter for a very specific purpose. I stay in touch with my clients by a gossamer thread. It helps me know what's happening in their lives that's important (things like the death of a dog, death of a close friend, two bombs, and a lot of snow!) without them having to email me.

It's also been invaluable for early news. I don't use it to market myself, or do much actual business, but it's been extremely useful for what I want it for.

I started using Twitter because I read a post on DorothyL from someone who was excoriating all the new fangled things they thought were a waste of time. I realized I didn't want to dismiss something as useless unless I'd actually tried it. Twitter turned to be very useful. I tried a couple other things that weren't, but the key was I tried them first. Sort of the like Spinach Principle: how do you know you'll loathe it unless you've tried it.


4. Joanna Stampfel Volpe. She arrived at FinePrint in February as an intern. She soon became an assistant, then an agent. She has an extraordinary editorial eye. I value her opinion very highly and in some categories I value hers more than mine.

I had the great good fortune to have her with me on our foray to Wichita Kansas. We talked the hotel shuttle bus driver into taking us to the liquor store when we arrived on Friday night. Well, Joanna did. I just egged her on. The image of pulling up to the liquor store in a hotel van is either horribly embarrassing or really funny. I'm not sure which but most likely it's both.

Joanna is a class act and a delight. I'm pleased to be her friend and colleague.


5. Bouchercon. Five days in Baltimore with clients, friends, and crime novels. I didn't have a single obligation other than hang out at the bar and listen to a lot of very talented people talk. It was so fun I came home and registered for Bouchercon 2009 in Indianapolis and B/con 2010 in San Francisco.


6. Barbara Poelle and Holly Root. Technically they are two separate people but they've been joined at the hip for years since their desks are about six inches apart. I had the good fortune to meet them at the Thomas Dunne party this year. It was love at first sight and all of 2008 proved that to be true. The fact they are my competitors makes it all the more more fun. I adore them both and plan to drink them under the table for years to come.


7. The Abbeville Manual of Style blog. I just plain love it. The writing is incredible. Read it. Don't argue. Just do it.

Other favorites are Fail and CakeWreck which have nothing to do with publishing but on the eighth rejection of the day, they are invaluable mood brighteners.


8. New York City. It will be on the list of things I love until I die. I love this city with a passion beyond reason. I'm profoundly grateful to have a job I love, in a city I love, working with people I admire and respect. I'm extraordinarily fortunate in this, and I know it.


Unstated, unnumbered but always there: my appreciation for those of you who read this blog, offer comments, insights, and goat tales. The time you spend reading and writing to me is deeply appreciated this year and every year.

Happy New Year!

Week in Review 5/10/2015

 

I'm not sure where this week went. Getting back to a regular schedule after several weeks of events, travel, and a reading retreat has been harder than I thought. WELCOME but harder. Next up is BEA but that's in town (so no travel involved)  and actually does feel a bit more like work than closing down the bar at Malice does!

In the week in review for last week, there was a lot of discussion of fan fiction and copyright.

Megan V had very useful information to add:

Generally, Fan Fiction (particularly fan fiction that is for sale!) IS a copyright violation. It falls under what's known as derivative works. A derivative work is a new work that includes aspects of a preexisting, already copyrighted work.

There are two typical exceptions:
1. Consent
2. Fair use

Fan fiction works that are not for sale might have a good case for fair use. But if fan fiction doesn't fall under these exceptions, then it's probably in violation the original author's copyright.

If you want more details- check out some great scholarly articles on the the topic. I recommend Michelle Chatelain's Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Copyright Law: Fan Fiction, Derivative Works, and
the Fair Use Doctrine, 15 Tul. J. Tech. & Intell. Prop. 199, 202 (2012). (She argues that even Fan-Fiction that is sold falls under fair use -stating that fan-fic is unlikely to commandeer the market of the original)


That said, authors tend to turn a blind eye to fan fiction or even encourage it when the fan-fic author isn't trying to hoodwink the world- hence the muddling. It's just up to the author to enforce the copyright.

Angie Brooksby-Arcangioli asked:

All the comments about Fan Fic and copyright infringement spurred me to wonder how agents and publishers deal with it. What is done to protect the rights? A self-pubbed author should consider this before publishing. They stand alone. But the team who sells a book and represents an author and their own investments (the publishing house), what do they do? What about audiobooks put illegally on Youtube? What happens? Does the author-agent-publisher team hire lawyers and sue, actually receive money?

There's a difference between outright theft (audio books on YouTube) and fan fic.  The publishing contract an author signs spells out what happens if any kind of lawsuit for infringement is contemplated (fan fact is infringement as is outright theft) Generally the infringement has to be something pretty major to warrant a lawsuit. The outright theft stuff is easier: the rights holder files a notice with YouTube that the material hasn't been properly cleared. It's called a Take Down Notice. This kind of theft is so common now that filing these kinds of notices is almost routine.

I must confess my jaw dropped when I first read this from Dena Pawling:

And DLM, happy bday to Gossamer! My youngest is 16 tomorrow and she wanted her ears pierced for her bday, so that's where we went yesterday.

Because I thought it was her cat getting pierced ears. Then I realized that some people have these things called "children" by which I mean not-cats.

AJ Blythe asked:

Question for Janet... I'm writing cozies so when I saw the announcement of Best First Novel (Agatha Awards) I bought it. I figure it must be a good example of where to set the bar for a debut, yes/no? In your exalted position as QOTKU would you recommend this as a strategy? Or is just reading widely in genre enough?

Very much recommend. I think you should read all the finalists (there are usually five) for Best First and Best Novel. You should also keep an eye out for the Macavity Awards which also tend to be cozier than the Edgar list.

On Monday, I posted some suggestions for how to interact with my ilk when you meet us in the wild.

S.D.King has demonstrated her desire to join the exiles on Carkoon:

    If I drank, the plan would be: hang out at writers' conferences, wearing a prominent "Janet Reid" name tag.

    Nobody knows what she looks like, and I could request fulls from everybody. Happy all around. (until Monday morning email at Fine Print.)

The Sleepy One asked:

1. If an agent read a full from an author but rejected it (versus just rejecting a query), is it okay for a writer to mention it? I might be in this exact situation at a writing conference in June. (Note: I've never queried Janet, so she's not the agent in question.) I also don't want to create an awkward situation.

2. Would the advice change if the agent's rejection on a full also said she wanted you to query her with future projects?

Here's where you all need to remember that there's a difference between how you start a conversation, and where a conversation can end up.  If the conversation flows in such a way that mentioning a previous submission fits in, well, have at it.  But STARTING the conversation here is a bad idea.

If you meet an agent, start with something that's about him/her, NOT about you.  And try not to steer the conversation toward your work.  This is easier if there are more than two people in the conversation of course.

On Tuesday we talked about calls to writers that were not offers of representation, i.e. not The Call.

brianrschwarz summed up the situation handily:

It's easy to get caught up in "the way" it happens in the internet age. First you query, then you submit pages, then you get the call, then.... ect. When really, this isn't THE way, it's A way it happens. And everybody has a slightly different way and some strange circumstances that go with it. If by some mastery of luck and fate I end up with an agent, my story would include self publishing a novel by accident when I won a contest and didn't understand what self publishing was, going to BEA without a clue or a finished book, and submitting a manuscript to an agent and later withdrawing it to submit another...

Stephen Kozeniewski's story made us all groan with sympathy:

    I once got a call from an agent. It was 7:00 pm on a Tuesday. My wife was working late so I was alone. It was a little late to get calls, and I don't get many calls in general anyway. I squinted at the phone, not recognizing the number, but, okay, I generally answer even if it's a telemarketer, just to make sure it's not something important.

    "Hello, is this Steve?"

    I was a little bit groggy. It had been a long day.

    "Yes."

    "Hi, this is Agent X."

    I sat bolt upright on the couch.

    "Yes, hello!"

    "Agent X with Agency Y."

    "Yes, yes, I know who you are."

    "Well, you sent me a query a little while ago."

    "Yes, I remember!"

    "Well, I just wanted to call to let you know that you forgot to put your email address on the submission form. So I couldn't e-mail you back. But we're passing."

    "Oh...okay...thanks for calling."

    "Okay, take care, Steve."

On Wednesday we talked about prioritizing agents to query based on where they've sold work previously.

I like what Elissa M said:

Maybe I'm dense, but I don't pay much attention to what publishers an agent makes her sales.

When researching an agent, I make a list of her clients' books. I go to the bookstore and see if the books are on the shelves. I examine the books and buy the ones that look interesting to me. (I can't tell you how many great reads I've found this way.) If I I like the books, that agent goes on my list of agents to query.

It's pretty simple, really. A good agent will have clients whose books are easy to find and purchase. Otherwise, what's the point?

And honest to godiva, some of these posts are just pure prose poems. Like this from Christian Seine:

Sometimes I listen to my kids talk around the dinner table making their plans for the future and think of us woodland creatures ...

Oldest son: Well when I grow up, I'm going to drive a Lamborghini.

Mom: Sure you will, honey.

Youngest son: Well when *I* grow up, I am going to have a limousine, with a driver who knows kung fu and parkour. And it will have an ice cream bar and a button you can push and Nerds (candy) come out. And a thing to rub my feet.

Mom: Ooh, I'll have to drive with you often.

Oldest daughter: Stupids, you'll be lucky to drive a beat up old car like mine.

Mom: (takes a bite of food so no one can hear her laughing)

Other daughter: Not me, because by then Mom will have sold a bunch of books and we'll be bazillionaires. And I'll get my Harley. A red one.

Mom: *chokes on food*

Youngest daughter: Mommy are you okay? Can I do the Heimlich on you? I know it, because one time on Power Puff Girls this guy was choking and ...

Youngest boy: Power Puff Girls are stupid.

Youngest girl: YOU'RE stupid.

Oldest daughter: *snaps photo of choking mom with iPhone and posts it to Instagram.*

The point being, sure I *hope* I get a Lamborghini agent, or even a cool yellow Mustang agent, or especially a Dukes of Hazard car agent. But in reality I'll be beyond thrilled with a slightly dinged-up SUV agent that could use a new radio and a good detailing, because I know they'll get me where I need to go.

The conversation then veered off in to agent who are also writers. I like what bjmuntain said:

Rather than worry about what an agent does in their off time, it's more important to find out what they do in their 'on' time. That's what the research is for. When you get 'the Call' (and you can't copyright titles or phrases :P [though I know of a trademark owner that got out of hand - ask if you want that story]) - as Janet said, that's when you find out if you can trust the agent and what the agent will do for you. You could even ask, "If you ever decide to leave agenting for any reason, what would happen to me?"

Given that I spend considerable time on this blog, and over at QueryShark, I hope no one will fail to query me cause I'm busy writing something other than rejection letters.

And I should also mention that the discipline required to write every day, to be clear about explaining things, and to have to justify or defend a position, well, all those things made me a better writer. And being a better writer, learning how to be a better writer, makes it  easier for me to figure out what does/doesn't work in novels.  And it gives me some sympathy for those of you staring at a blank page thinking "what the hell am I doing here."

And yes, most agents who write for publication have an agent to represent their interests. Often it's an agent not with the same agency.

and to wind up the day perfectly, Her Grace, the Duchess of Kneale asked:

Colin, if you're wearing your underpants on your head, where are you wearing your mismatched socks?

Like the revolution, I hope the answer will NOT be televised.

On Thursday the topic turned to the hybrid author (one who publishes independently, and one who publishes traditionally)

AJ Blythe asked a good question:

What issues are there with having contracts for previous books? Surely the agent only has to worry about the books that come from the first contracted to them?

Sadly, no. The contract with the FIRST publisher often governs what can happen next. There are two contract clauses that can trip up the unwary: the option clause and the competing works clause.  

The option clause gives the FIRST publisher the right to look at "the next book" and often provides a time frame for it.  That can mean the author can't publish anything until the option clause at the first publisher is satisfied. A badly drawn option clause can mean you NEVER get to publish anywhere else again.

The competing works clause says you can't publish anything that diminishes the value of the work being licensed in the contract. Depending on how that clause is worded, and the expectations of the publisher, ANY work can be seen as diminishing the value of the book. 

There's a reason I demand that my clients show me all contracts they sign and you're looking at it.  Even if I'm not the agent of record on a deal, I am my CLIENT'S agent, and my job is to watch out for obstacles in their career path.  If they want to jump over them, great. My job is simply to point out where they are.

Donnaeve said:

Maybe the agent would still want to untangle the mess if sales were stellar.

Chances of that are slim to none. If sales are stellar, a publisher has ZERO motivation to alter or amend the contract. Often too, these contracts are garbage because the publishers don't know what they're doing and resist all efforts by some whippersnapper hot shot agent to "fix" things.

Amanda Capper said:

My agent-less contract with the publisher was for only the one book. Should I mention that in the query? I'm thinking it wouldn't hurt. This publisher would have nothing to do with any further books I produce. I also retained movie rights. Ever the optimistic possum.

Unless an agent can see the contract, it's hard to say. Just mention that your book was published by X Publisher.  We know there's a contract with the deal. If an agent is interested she'll ask.  This of course means you KEEEP a copy of the contract (yes, I've had people tell me they didn't.)

On Friday, we discussed withdrawing a query, and more important, how to evaluate if you're actually ready to query.

I posted a picture of my files that showed one for withdrawn manuscripts. 

AJ Blythe asked:

The fact you keep the withdrawn mss is a little scary. Do you look at them when the resub is done? If not, why keep them?

First, I keep them so I can tally how many ms I requested/rejected/sent back for revision etc. in a given year.  Second, that file is for emails about the manuscript. If someone withdraws their ms, I keep those on file for awhile cause the writer often turns up again, and I can easily see what my comments were (if any).

I don't keep reading the ms, nor do keep it to compare to the new one.  Even if that seemed like a good idea, it's simply not possible to do that because of the time it would take.

Matt Blythe makes a good point, one I should have thought of:

But I do think there's a key point missing from Janet's list, which is that after you've completed the flowchart, you have to be willing to stop. You can make it as good as you can make it, but you'll never make it perfect, so you do have to willing to admit that. Plus, by the time you're through with all that level of editing, you're going to pretty much hate the thing. So tell yourself when you've done all you can do, you're sending it out. That's a key step, too. The willingness to face the rejections.

On Saturday, the topic was what does "send a list of submissions" mean.

Rob Ceres had a line that's going to get a mini-rant here:

I too would be sorely tempted to say none of your business, but isn’t that a bit of biting the hand that feeds you?

Let's just all remember that YOU the WRITER are the hand that FEEDS US, THE AGENTS.  YOUR work is what I sell. YOUR work is what readers buy. YOUR work earns my living.  It's easy to forget that, particularly at the query stage when so much of this is new and strange, but it's really important that you do NOT.

I agree with Rob that asking this, particularly at the query stage puts the writer in a tough position. And that SAYS SOMETHING!!!! about the agent who's asking.

*rant over*

The Sleepy One brought up a good point:

One agent asked if any publishers had seen my manuscript. She didn't request the manuscript before I said no.

That's a question I should ask cause it really does make a difference to me. If a prospective client has already sent this to editors at the major publishers, it's a less enticing project than one with a clean slate.  I always forget to ask, and in fact signed a client only to learn during the submission process that several of my first choice editors had already seen the project. (Not a good day here)

Miscellaneous items from the week:

Susan Bonifant said: 

It's not fun to be fearsome.

Oh yes it is!

bjmuntain's comment on marketing should be required reading for every writer. In fact, you should copy it, paste it to a new document, print it out, post it above your desk and memorize it. Today. Right now. In fact, there might be a test.

There's a huge difference between self-promotion and marketing.

Self-promotion: Telling.

Marketing: Showing.

Self-promotion: Buy my book!!!!!

Marketing:

- blog posts on similar topics
- interviews
- chats with possible readers about topics covered in your novel
- book trailers (but only if they're done so well that people will enjoy them without ever reading your book)
- finding your audience and engaging with them
- finding a need your book fills, then talking about that need
- the big marketing slogan these days is: Engage, engage, engage.

You're right. 'Buy my book spam' sucks. I like how Sam Sykes does his on Twitter. He'll be talking about something totally different, answering other people with made-up conversations, and the conversation will end with 'Buy my book' just thrown in as a sarcastic afterthought. And you won't see it coming, so it's hilarious. He does other types of marketing, of course, but I don't think I've ever seen him use 'Buy my book' seriously. Unless he includes the word 'seriously'. Which is also just funny.

The ones that say, "My book is out! Buy it!" are okay when the book first comes out, sort of as an announcement to your current followers who - you might believe - will also be excited. After the initial excitement, marketing gets more nose-to-the-grindstone, less 'Buy my book!' Or you'll drive off all the folks who have been reading all your posts and are now tired of that message.

Thanks to LynnRodz for a new word: sosie!

And brianrschwarz provided this week's phrase I'd use as my blog subheading, except I don't think Blogger will let me:

I hardly ever swear...

But fuck the odds. ;)

And honestly, the week is just not complete unless Julie Weathers cracks me up:

Even after we finished talking about the book, the conversation continued on about how he done her wrong. I excused myself, saying I had an appointment to get my wrists slashed.

For those of you having a hard time on Mother's Day because your mom is gone, or you don't have children, or both, I posted something on my Facebook page about how I'll be responding to "Happy Mother's Day" greetings.