I know, it's tempting to think this blog is real. But it's not. At the moment it's a trial spot. So nothing's actually active. It's here as a sample for a presentation I am giving on authorial websites and promotion.
April 15, 2009
On Finished Projects
(cross-posted at Women of Mystery, since this site is still not really active!)
A few months ago, one of my fellow Women of Mystery (hi, Nan!) asked me how many projects I'd finished. After much discussion of what constituted "finishing" a fiction project, we agreed that she meant getting a first draft done, with all the holes filled but unpolished. As we sat waiting for our Sisters in Crime meeting to commence, I tried to come up with a list. But I think I left out a couple. The other day, I "finished" my current WIP, at least by that definition, and I recalled her question.
The
first book I ever wrote was a picture book. I wrote it in first grade,
and it was called The Speshel Dog. You can see it here, reproduced in
its entirety. I didn't have much idea of story arc, but I had a fine
sense of audience and included both a dedication--to my mother, because
she always wanted a book--and a dog. (I won't subject you to the sequel
about the little girl who wanted a dog and the dog who wanted a family.
I think that was written in third grade; better penmanship and an
actual plot, but no colorful pictures of dogs milking cows.)
Despite the enormous success of my first two books, it was many years before I wrote another. I wrote short stories here and there, but never really did anything with them. Eventually, I decided I wanted to write a novel. But I knew myself. I'm dreadfully ADD, and I had no idea whether I could finish such a thing. So I set out to write a category romance. Not because I thought it would be easier than anything else, but because it was the shortest form of novel around.
It took me ages to complete, and once it was done it seemed a shame to let it molder, so I shipped it off to Harlequin. It was rejected ten months later with the comment that my characters had too much baggage. That seemed a bit much to me, since this was the eighties and everyone had baggage, but by then I was on my way to writing my next book.
Luckily, I'd switched genres and lightened the characters' luggage. That project was a 119,000 word epic fantasy. And yes, I wrote it all by hand. I still really like that story and I periodically think about resurrecting it. It would need a lot of editing. Like every other manuscript from under the bed, there are reasons it never found a home with a publisher. (Reasons beyond the fact that I submitted it only to one publisher, and the rejection--though it was personalized and really helpful--was too hard for me.)
After that, there was a YA book that I never submitted anywhere. It was a story I just needed to write. I finished it and filed it. Thought about writing another, but both of them were too dark and depressing. Of course, that was in the early 90's. Things have changed a lot since then.
Then I took a break. I was working, writing curriculum, then going to grad school and too busy writing academic work to write fiction.
My academic career came to an abrupt end when my epilepsy meds went on the fritz, but when they stabilized the drugs after a couple years, I suddenly wrote the first draft of my first mystery. It took six weeks start to finish. All I can say is it must have been percolating all the time I wasn't writing, because I am by no means a fast writer.
That was the point at which I got serious about getting published. I joined organizations, researched editors and agents, polished the manuscript way beyond what I had done to previous ones. In the process I realized that the Internet had changed everything about the process. Instead of going out and buying a Writers Market, picking through the entries for someone who seemed right to me and knowing, even while I did, that the entry was probably long out of date, I could go online and find up-to-the-minute data.
Of course, so could everyone else.
Still, there was something energizing about being able to do that kind of research when I didn't feel like writing. So while I was out trying to sell that first mystery, I wrote the next one in the series. Of course, then the rejections started coming in and they all said the same thing:
Academic mysteries don't sell.
So, really, why was I considering the third book when the whole "hook" of the series was going to be a turn off to agents and editors. (I'm not touching the question of whether or not it would intrigue readers--it had to get past the first hurdles first because that's the route I've chosen to publication.) Instead, I discussed another possible hook for a mystery with an agent at Sleuthfest a couple of years ago, and she said "finish it and send it to me."
So that was mystery number three, the beadmaking mystery. It got me an agent (woohoo!!) but she couldn't sell it. I don't know who was more surprised or frustrated by that--her or me. But she said that the traditional mystery market was a tough one, and I said "well, as it turns out, I've been thinking about this romantic suspense project." And it was off to the races.
Friday, I filled in the last missing scene of that manuscript. Now I have to edit it, but I do a lot of that as I go along, so it shouldn't be too much work. I'm nervous about this because I've never tried to write anything remotely like it before, but when I look back at this post I realize I've done a lot of genre-switching over the years. So maybe it will be okay. And luckily, my agent recently wrote a post about how she's willing to work to improve her clients' work rather than kicking them out on their keisters.
So wish me luck in this, the ninth attempt. (Yes, I am counting the first one, spelling errors and all.)
