Persistence or Pestiness?

You may recall back in April I wrote a SQUEE post about a request for partial I received. Now it's been two months without a word and I'm wondering if this agent even received the email I sent her.

Oh, I know some agents take months on partials, and I'm willing to wait if I have to. But see, here's the thing... On a popular writerly forum, several people talk about her quick lead times. It seems that usually this particular person usually responds to a partial in 4-6 weeks. And I'm at 2 months.

Last year... or was it the year before?... I got a request for partial on Caldera from an agent with a stated 4 month lead time. I was patient. I waited. The four months went by with no word and I began to wonder if my partial disappeared into whatever black hole the USPS uses to lighten their bags. (Ever watch Seinfeld? Newman stowed mail in a storage garage so he wouldn't have to carry it.) After five months, I sent said agent a polite nudge via email and within a week, my SASE came back with a rejection in it.

My first thought was that somehow my submission materials got lost in a stack somewhere, and the nudge prompted her to dig out my SASE for the rejection that was waiting all along. My second thought was that my nudge pissed her off. That somehow she was sitting on the fence about my manuscript and my email pushed her over to the rejection side. (I mean, who wants to work with a pest?)

This morning I sent a polite nudge to the agent who requested a partial on RTL. We'll see what happens from this one.

The question in my mind, even as I was hitting the SEND button, is when does persistence cross the line into pestiness? If an agent has a stated lead time of 4 months, is it appropriate to send a nudge after 5 months? If an agent has no stated lead time, but other writers are saying she's gotten back to them in 4-6 weeks, is sending a note after 2 months being pesty?

Pardon me while I slip into the paranoia phase of my writing life. Yes, I know I should just chill out, but the thought of my stuff being lost somewhere in cyberspace makes it hard to relax.

PS. If you haven't seen it yet, Jessica Faust wrote a blog post about this very thing on Friday: The Art of Persistence. Scoot on over and check it out.

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Favorite Writing Related Blogs

I know I used to have a list over there on the right, but I decided to nix in it in favor of this post. You'll now notice a link to this post under 'Important Stuff'. Be warned: This sucker is long.

So, here they are...

Manuscript Maven related:
The Manuscript Mavens
Erica Writes
Lacey Kaye
Jackie Does Dish
Carrie's Procrastinatory Outlet
Romantic Inks
The Spiced Tea Party

Agent or Agent Related:
Agent Obvious
all that's new(s) from A to Z
BookCannibal
BookEnds
Caren Johnson
The Swivet
Dystel & Goderich
Et in arcaedia, ego.
Janet Reid
Query Shark
Lyons Literary
Nathan Bransford
PubRants
The Knight Agency Blog
Agent in the Middle
Rachelle Gardner
The Rejector
Tina Wexler
Writing and Rambling
Wylie-Merrick
Literary Agent News

Other Daily Reads:
JenWriter
The Novel Racers
Karin Tabke
Murder She Writes
Diana Peterfreund
The Good Girls Kill for Money Club
Wendy Roberts
Paperback Writer
Kristen Painter
The Fictionistas
Work in Progress
Just Keep Writing and Other Thoughts
Dishing with the Divas
WriteMinded
One Word, One Rung, One Day
Jeaniene Frost

Other Frequented Blogs:
Edie Ramer
Maya Reynolds
Magical Musings
Romancing the Blog
Writer Beware Blogs!
Sean Ashby
Kristophrenia
Jill Monroe's Blog - Off the Keyboard
Quest to Write

Blogs I Wish I Had Time to Read (more than a couple times a year) but Don't:
Sisters in Crime
Author MBA
The Writer's Group
Smart Bitches, Trashy Books
The Outfit
Author! Author!
Writer Unboxed
Hey, There's a Dead Guy in the Living Room
The Goddess Blogs
PASIC - Published Authors' Special Interest Chapter
First Offenders
gamboling
Killer Hobbies
A Writer's Journey
Word Wenches
Start Writing Now
Avon Romance Blog
Dear Author
Wordgirl's Work In Progress: Brit Chick Lit Diary
Teri Brown Writes!
Simply Wait
SpyScribbler
Hackman Adams
Romance Divas Divine Blog
Argh Ink
Flogging the Quill
Tess Gerritsen
Unstrung
Murderati
Samhain Weblog

Blogs I've added on since the initial post:
Much Cheaper Than Therapy
A Writer's Vanity (Blog of Apex Publications)
Romance Divas Divine Blog
Fangs, Fur & Fey
Mysterious Matters
Making It Up
Running With Quills

I know I'm missing a lot of awesome writing blogs out there. If you have any suggestions, leave them in the comments. If I like them, I'll add them to the list. (I just can't guarantee I'll read all the blogs... If I read all of these all the time, I'd never get anything else done.)

PS. I lost a couple links along the way, so if I used to come to your blog but you don't see it on the list, let me know.

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Spring Ducklings

Sorry about the grumpiness of the past couple of days. Life works that way sometimes. Anyway, here's a little something to lift your spirits - I know these babies lift mine.




This Mallard mama was very protective of her babies, but we stood still enough that she let them swim near us. One of them had me rolling with laughter as he chased a tiny blue dragonfly. He looked like a fluffy motorboat. ;o)

Don't you just love Spring?

Update: At last report, the ducklings and their mother haven't been seen since before the storm. =o(

Want Any Cheese?

Yesterday was a bitch. There's no nicer way to put it. I'm figuring we got about 2.5 inches of hail. I could still see some of it underneath the (now) raggedy lilac bushes. Yuck. My car is now nicely textured, too. Fun fun fun. For various reasons, I ended up with 5 hours of sleep, and the only thing keeping me upright at the moment is Mountain Dew. (Someday I shall build a shrine to that beverage, I swear. I made it through my first two years of college because of that stuff.)

Yeah, yeah... I know, I know... "Want any cheese with that whine?"

Anyhoo, you didn't come here to read my gripings, so what shall we talk about today?

I didn't get any writing done yesterday, and tonight ain't looking too good either. I got a really nice rejection letter today... Ummm... Yeah.

So what does a writer do when life intrudes? Any regular joe would take a personal day. Take one and not feel guilty about it, in fact. Why then, do I feel so friggin' guilty about taking yesterday and today off?

I guess it could be because I'm my own boss, and I know if I admit it to myself, I really don't have a great excuse for slacking off. Sure, yesterday was hell, and we had three waves of storms go through, but it was over by the time I would've started writing anyway. (btw, Boss me is pretty friggin' grumpy about the whole unexcused absence thing right about now.) I was bone tired, but I couldn't sleep anyway, so why was I on the couch watching TV instead of working on my book?

Exactly. Slacker.

When I worked outside the home, they practically had to pry me away from my desk to get me to take a sick day. Unless I was running a major temperature, I was at work. I didn't allow excuses then; I can't imagine why I'm allowing them now.

Tired? Tough schnitzkes. Sick? Shake it off, soldier. Achy? Too bad. There's work to do. We're burning daylight. (This is me talking to myself, btw, so don't take it personally. Unless, of course, you need a good kick in the pants, then I'm happy to help.)

I'm still taking tonight off. It's too late to get anything accomplished - except for words I know I'll just end up deleting. Tomorrow, however, is another story. If I don't get some work done tomorrow, I'm going to take myself out and kick my own ass. I will have deserved it.

Now, drop and give me twenty.

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Auntie Em, Auntie Em

Okay, so it wasn't a twister this time. Just a boatload of hail and some eerie green clouds. They were swirling in a big lazy circle (by big, I mean town-sized). Needless to say, I'm pooped just from running around the house making sure we weren't pulling a Wizard of Oz remake while my husband was at work and my daughter was safely ensconced in the bathtub with one irritated kitty. Fun for the whole fan damily.

Add tornados to the list of things that freak me out.

Why Subject Yourself to the Cruelties of Publishing?

Yesterday came and went without a blog post. Sorry about that. I had a really great idea for a topic, but when I went to write the post, I couldn't remember what the topic was. C'est la vie.

This morning, I read a really great post over at BookEnds about why a writer would seek publication. I loved this line the best: "Why do you feel the need to continue to subject yourself to the cruelties of publishing?"

I commented, of course, but I wanted to expand on the idea here.

Why does a writer go through all the trauma and drama of getting published? Think about it for a second. Personally, I never really thought about NOT publishing my work. When I was fourteen and co-writing a book with my best friend, I know we had many discussion about what it would be like AFTER we got the book published. There was never a question of writing it just for us and our friends. We were going to see the book in print. Of course, we never finished it, so it sits in my storage bins, but that's not the point I'm trying to make. We were writing with the goal of publication.

Thinking about it now, I still don't know the exact answer. I know I want to have my work published. I want to hold my books in my hands--to smell them, to feel their weight, and to see the pretty covers. But that in itself is not a good reason for putting up with everything we writers do. If that was all I wanted, I could self-publish and be done with it. I even looked into getting my first book done over at Lulu (which seems like the best there is in self-publishing, btw). But it wasn't enough.

I want to see my books on the shelves at Barnes and Noble. I want to go into any given library and see my books there, too. I want mountains of my books on the tables at every bookseller. It sounds like an ego-trip, I know, but follow me here.

If my books are everywhere, it means everyone has the chance to read them. If everyone has the opportunity to read my books, I have the opportunity to touch the minds of people, to maybe make a little bit of a difference in someone else's life through my writing. Ideally, I'd like to touch a few minds, change a few of them, and make the world a better place. If that doesn't happen, I'd like to at least provide people a good entertaining read--something they might like to share with their friends and family, something they might want to read again and again. Hopefully, other people will think my writing is good enough to do both.

Yesterday, while I was researching agents for query purposes, one of them said they were looking for books that teach something new without being preachy. Aha! That's what I've been trying to do--albeit in a small way--for years. (Needless to say, I queried said agent last night.)

On the other hand, a while back my own darling daughter gave me the following piece of teenage wisdom: "Mom, you're never going to get your books published... They make people think, and people don't want to think." (Don't be all shocked about her bluntness. It's how we are together. She did go on to say how great my books were, but it wasn't the point she was trying to make.) I don't agree with her statement, but it's an interesting thing to think about.

I think people want to think, and I want to be the one to start the ember burning. I think my work does that. I also think people want to be entertained, and I think my work does that, too. Nothing preachy, nothing hammered at you from all sides, but just an underlying thought woven into the story. (Sneaky, I know, but most writers do it even if it isn't a conscious thing. Pick up a book sometimes and look for the author's philosophy behind the words. It's in there somewhere, trust me.)

So, now that I've rambled and gotten off on a couple tangents, it's back to the real question here. Why are we subjecting ourselves to all this work just to get published--especially in a world where posting our work on the internet would achieve a similar goal? I think everyone has a different answer, but I think the underlying cause is the same for all of us. We want to share something of ourselves with the rest of the world, and publication is the only way for that to happen in any meaningful way.

And, of course, there's the money. (What? You mean writers aren't all living like Bill Gates? *sigh*)

What say you? Why are you doing what you do?

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What Freaks You Out?

Over the weekend, I sent the premise of Nano to my CP, and she said that once again I've hit on something that freaks her out. So, I thought I'd take a moment to talk about what freaks me out and what might freak the rest of you out.

First off, the thought of losing my mental faculties totally freaks me out. I don't mean going insane--although that's scary enough in its own right--but losing my ability to think. This one has its roots in the time after my car accident when I actually did come close to losing that ability. Being unable to remember huge chunks of your past, and losing some basic skills (like how to multiply) can be freaky. My mother's best friend has Alzheimer's, and we talk about her slow deterioration into a completely different person. The thought of that scares the crap out of me.

Another thing that freaks me out is the thought of losing my personal liberties. Of course, being locked up would kill me. (I don't like small spaces.) But beyond that, the thought of the government taking away my individual rights, and me not having any ability to stop them, scares the bejeezus out of me. (This fear is what lays behind RTL, btw.)

I used to be freaked out by moths (long story), but after some intensive personal work, I got over most of that. Grasshoppers are another issue. Those things are just creepy. I can stand to be around them, until they touch me (or look like they're about to touch me). Then all bets are off. I blame this horror flick I watched when I was a kid about mutant grasshoppers from outer space. Can't recall the title or even the plot, but the image of millions of giant grasshoppers eating their way across the landscape still haunts me. (I won't even go into the trauma of watching the old version of The Fly, and the months... years... my siblings spent tormenting me with the high-pitched shriek of "Help me! Help me!" :shudder:)

Of the above, only the first two could work into storylines for me. Oh, I suppose I could write a creepy insect book, but that's not my style. I'm more into the psychological and philosophical freak-outs.

Tell me, what freaks you out? And if you write, do you use your fears to drive your books?

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Nerts

I sat down to work. Really, I did. I opened Manhunter to get some editing done. But I couldn't wrap my brain around it. I opened Nano to get some writing done instead, but the few words I wrote came out lame. Nerts.

Instead I'm thinking about other things. The end of the schoolyear is this week. Summer officially begins. My winter weight needs to come off, and my exercise tapes are calling me. (Despite the fact that I had my daughter make Chocolate Ecstasy Brownies today and those are calling me, too.) I'm thinking about poker. I'm thinking about the birds outside my window, and the book I'm partway through sitting on my living room table. (The new Jordan Dane, btw.)

Distractions. Nothing but distractions... At least right at the moment. I can't worry about school right now. Exercising at night is pointless. (Fat burns more efficiently in the morning, from what I've heard.) I've been playing poker all day, and I should just call it a day. The book is holding about the same appeal as writing, unfortunately. (Not the book's fault, mind you. This is all me.)

I don't need distractions. I need to work. I need to write and edit, so I can get published. Damn it. Nerts on distractions.

I need a smoke, but it's highly unlikely that will get the creative juices flowing. Oh sure, it helps keep them flowing, but I need a Diehard to jump start this tonight.

:bangs head on desk: Work, damn you. Work!

Anyhoo, this has been a totally pointless post. Unless, of course, you have been in the same position and find a bit of comfort in knowing you're not alone. If that's the case, I'm happy to help.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go slap my muse around. She'll work tonight if it kills us both.

So there. =op

Update: Never mind. I kicked the chick into gear, and got back on track. Still no editing, but the new words are finally coming.