Yup, it's Like That

Being a writer is like this:



I laughed at this scene because I live it so many times a day. As a writer, most days you think you're a full on manic-depressive--bouncing off the walls one minute, crawling the floor in agony the next.

Minute #1: "Look, an agent wants my manuscript! Yay!" *happy dance* *high fiving the cat* *doing cartwheels* *making macho faces at the microwave* "Who's the awesomest writer? Oh yeah. You're looking at her!"

Minute #2: *staring at document in terror* "I-I can't send this. No." *clutching literary baby to chest* "I won't let them hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you." *holding book away* "But if I really love you, I have to let you go." *trembling* "He/she's going to hate you. I know it. We can't bear another rejection. Why? WHY, CRUEL WORLD?!"

We all have our confidence battles, right? But ultimately Rapunzel was right to get out of her tower and discover the world. I guess it's a universal truth, and who couldn't use a little "Rapunzel" optimism every now and again?

And because of that, I've decided that instead of sitting back and observing (like I've done for the last couple years,) I'm going to hop on board the Blogging from A to Z challenge in April. *deep breath* Will I see you there?

What are you struggling with right now? And are you listening to Rapunzel or Flynn?

Bing, Bang, Boom

And no, I'm not just practicing onamonapia.

The fingers drum anxiously across the desk. Waiting. Waiting. Not waiting well.

In three days the results will be announced for Brenda Drake's Pitch Wars. The amazing Sharon Johnston and I are teamed up against a slew of others to see who can bring a panel of literary agents to their knees--with requests, that is. This is round two, the final sha-bang, and I can't decide if I want to hide my head in the sand or click the refresh button every two seconds.

How do you deal with the waiting? Me, I turn to distraction. So here are my distractions today.

I'm joining Sheri Larsen--an amazing blogger/writing friend with her New Year's Writer's Creed. Everyone needs to redefine their plan on occasion. 

(See, it's even on my side bar!) 

Finally, the BOOM! The free copy of Deadly Kisses by Kerri Cuevas goes to... 

DRUM ROLL...

Lucille Lheureux

What has you anxious at the moment, and what are you doing to relieve it?

Pitch Wars, Writers, and WINNERS... Oh my!

You know when you do something spur of the moment that ends with you pulling your hair and laughing manically? Yup. 

On November 26th Brenda Drake posted a contest called Pitch Wars. It's all about creating the ultimate hook, or pitch for a book. Thirty-seven coaches (agented/published writers/editor/industry pros) put themselves out there and asked for unagented/unpublished writers to pitch their completed manuscripts to them. 591 writers answered the call. Each writer could select 3 coaches to pitch. Each coach selected 3 manuscripts to champion--one pick, and two alternates (in case their first choice falls through). These coaches will work with their writers to strengthen their pitches for a final round (January 23-24), when all the teams will pitch their manuscripts to a panel of 16 judges/literary agents. The winner will be the person who receives the most requests for their book. 

I saw the contest and thought, "Hey, I have all the requirements and I've been querying. Why not?" So I vetted out the coaches, picked the three most stellar ones (for my genre), and tossed a few pages at them. 

Response #1: "I really enjoyed reading the material you sent me for DARK MOON. ... you have a really great story here ..." But ultimately, she went with other manuscripts.

Response #2: "You made it into my top ten (out of a LOT of submissions) ... For what you are writing, you do it very, very well. ... I am assuming this will be snapped up quickly..." But again, she passed, offering to help if I don't find this baby a home immediately.

Response #3: "I can't gush enough about your pitch. ...we can wipe the floor with everyone at Pitch Wars then celebrate with Cheese!" 

I GOT PICKED!! 

Was I surprised? Um, more like dumb-struck. So here's my wonderful teammate who is currently bulldozing through DARK MOON so we can pitch it, and wipe the floor with our competition. (Which we will.) 

Meet Sharon: a writer of YA and NA weird fiction and contemporary fiction, a blogger at YAtopia, Writing Teen Novels, Down Under Wonderings, a regular speaker at The Whitsunday Voices Youth Literature Festival, and a NA/YA intern for Entangled. She has a habit of posting weird profile pics and has been stalked by women because of her great taste in shoes.

Together we are the Grimm Writers, and although I never could have anticipated being picked, I couldn't have a better partner. Sharon is AWESOME! 

So I guess the moral of the story is, you can't be a winner without trying. Take a chance. Do crazy things. Jump before you look. You never know what will happen. 

2nd Annual Flash Fiction Contest

Flash Fiction RULES!!! And right now Cherie Reich is hosting this fabulous contest. Check it out, enjoy a few quick, fun reads--but be sure to leave comments and let the writers know you love them *ahem* us.

Mwah-ha-ha

Lightning flashed. Power surged into the tower laboratory, heating organic power cells, emitting a green glow. Sporadic white tentacles swirled about the human-sized tubes, plasma humming.  

An old man wearing black goggles ducked into the room. He pulled on elbow length gloves with a smack and smoothed back his erratic white hair. “Igor, prepare the switch!”

A hunchback hobbled in behind him, shuffling toward the lever.

The scientist drew a hand over an inanimate lump at the center of the chamber. “Your time has come, my beautiful creation.”

“Ready, Master,” the hunchback slurred.

“Pull the switch!” The command echoed off brick walls, switch, switch, switch.

Igor gripped the handle and jerked downward. It didn’t budge.

He gasped and tugged again. It wouldn’t move! He wrapped his arms around it and hung on the beam. It remained still. Perspiration dripping down his forehead, he climbed onto a nearby platform and leapt at the lever. It crashed down under his weight.

Silvery electric threads shot out of each tube. They jolted into the lifeless creation. The mass vibrated.

“Mwah-ha-ha-ha-ha!” The scientist raised both arms to the sky.

Lights flickered in and out. The room shuddered. All went dark.

“Arise, my creation!” the old man commanded.

The circular hulk shifted.

Igor ducked behind the lever, trembling.

It twisted. It sat upright, its round frame catching the starlight like a miniature moon.

“I’ve done it!” The old man collapsed to his knees before the cot.

“Oh, it’s so beautiful!” Igor hissed, still hiding.

“Where am I? Who am I?” The lump shook. “What am I?”

The old man snatched a crumb off the thing and threw it into his mouth. “The first ever living cheese wheel. Delicious!”

A WINNER! And a Bout of Flash Fiction...

One HUGE

 

to everyone who submitted ideas for the Music Video contest. There were so many awesome ideas that we had a difficult time choosing. It came down to a team vote, and our winner is... (*drum roll*)

Kay Em Evans! 

For the picture frame idea. 

And now for the second Crusader Writing Challenge: parameters, 100 words (not including title). 

That Kind of Day 

The goldfish bowl teetered and crashed to the linoleum. Water coursed around my sneakers, orange bodies flopping helplessly through deadly shards.

A gun cocked.

“You can’t kill me.” I stepped around floundering bodies toward the wide-eyed man, hoping he wouldn’t try.

He looked down the barrel of his revolver. “Oh yeah?”

The gun fired.

A bullet smacked me between the eyes. Ouch.

“You can however seriously piss me off.” I speared him through with my scythe and lifted his squirming soul away. “Now I’m going to have to dig that thing out...! Say hello to your fishes, in Hell.”  

(From my short stories collection: Death Goes to Hell. Read more here: http://angiesdiary.com/stories/shortstory/death-goes-to-hell/ )

SHORT: Contest Challenge

S uccinct 

H ook

O f

R apid

T hought

Ideal panel look-alikes

We see it in film all the time, a brief snippet encompassing a complete story. We also see it in poetry. Within a newer art, we find it in flash fiction, and the even more condensed "drabbles". As a slow creature to modern crazes, I've decided to finally try my hand at 100 word perfection. (--In a conglomeration of  poetic drabble-dom.) Join me. Create your own. Add a comment with a link back to your blog, then post your literary masterpiece in your own space. (Or add it as a comment here if you don't have a blog.) A unique panel of 5 judges will pick the best of the best and award (drum-roll) the Drabble Poet badge (for your blog/webpage etc) AND a whopping $5 gift card to Amazon! I know, you can't believe it, right? Five Dollars!! Contest ends September 1st.


Let the Drabble-Poets commence!

Dizzily dancing, she twirled the stage. 
One pirouette, two pirouette, finish with a bow.
Then up she came for the crowd's laud
Greeted by streetlight and graffiti-ed walls. 

Stood lone ballerina, all conundrum and dread
Studio behind, home of the arts, an infamous wreck.

Out stepped a stranger with ominous look.
"I've longed to see thee, lady fair of the stage."
"I've longed to see what I can't, for my age."
 He offered a hand, strange contraption therein.

"This be the means of thy travel. I fear 
Ye never shall return to the then from the here.

You are mine."