I went and I learned and its do now or die.

There you have it, not exactly panic on the doorstep of success—more like I need to take the next step already. I’m tired of endless rounds of critiques and editing.  Taking even more poetic license—this is it—time to submit. My blogs have been sparse because I’ve been busy writing, snatching every second I can between family time, the usual business and unusual business, dealing with disasters.

I’ve revised my query about a hundred times.  My synopsis is so sync-copied I can’t see straight.  I worked two classes of 7th graders’ fingers to the bone to polish my book. Okay, that’s an exaggeration because I brought treats, gave prizes for the most helpful suggestions, and we had fun. But school ended and I finished entering the students’ suggestions within a month. Then I made another round of adult critiques, and another few rounds of my own. Since I’m my own worst critic, I put a time limit on that or I’d never submit anything. The time limit was SCBWI’s Orlando workshop.

I went to the middle-grade track and enjoyed the success stories and especially the humor, but I went for the lessons. I got those in enough detail to push me forward, through that last leg of synopsis and query editing. So between family business and church stuff, getting choir ready for another performance, I’m going to set out Query Shark bait. That’s how open to criticism I am. Chew me up and spit me out, just leave a few pieces, please.

I’m also taking a few days to regain my calm and feed my spirit with a relative visit.  Even a working vacation does wonders when it's to see loved ones. Back home I’ll start researching my first round of 10 agents to query.

I might have to delay another week while I deal with backed up laundry and finances—I can’t stand dirty laundry piled up or receipts not entered in Quicken either. But I hope to have the dirty business under control soon, along with the long awaited launching of one of my children from the nest.

Fly! I won’t cry—much. Maybe I’ll even take over the space for an office.

Afterwards, all other business must take a number and stand in line, because I'll be researching agents and reading their submission guidelines. Last but not least, I’ll send, send, send, because I hear there’s no end to rejections.

    Blog June7, 2011

Before that, the question for me was to do or not to do. To make things clear, there’s really no question of me not doing. The only way I could fail as a writer is to quit. I’m never done writing even when I just finished editing the last chapter of my book. So I must do—but not in the manner of much ado about nothing.

I have committed substantial effort to my book. This last revision was inspired by a class of 7th graders I worked with once a week this year. Now I need a few adults to volunteer as reviewers. These reviewers must not quit, at least not before the 4th chapter. More important, there’s a one week deadline to review three chapters.

I don’t expect a full line edit like a professional editor might provide, but I do need to know if the story is easy to read, whether it flows and makes sense to an adult—you know, those “old” people who buy the books for their young teenagers.

The 7th graders gave me suggestions and inspiration that generated a ton of changes. Think I’m kidding? Try lifting the stack of review papers I went through first as a group and then individually to make sure I addressed every question and concern.

The most important lessons I learned from them are less talk and more action. The average twelve-year-old these days doesn’t understand puns without explanation. Same with words like entity and rift. There’s a huge mental leap that happens somewhere around age 13. I hope that’s my lucky number, even if I don’t believe in luck except as a reward for hard work.

Now I have until the 24th of June to have adults read my book, or at least the first three chapters, and offer up opinions, good or bad. That date is when I’ll attend the SCBWI (Society of Children’s Bookwriters and Illustrators) midyear workshop in Orlando to try and sell it. I could use a few more volunteer reviewers, but only if you’re a fast reader and only if you’re not afraid to tell me the worst. I wouldn’t ask for criticism if I couldn’t take it.

I have one volunteer who left on vacation and might not be able to finish the first three chapters in time. Make no mistake, timing is critical because I need a week to make any changes necessitated by the reviews. For locals, I can print and deliver the manuscript if you prefer. For everyone else, the reviews must be online because there’s not enough time for snail mail.

I will return the favor of course. If you’re not a writer, I can help hone presentations or lessons for work, school, or church. So now the question is to review or not to review. I leave it up to you.

Make it or break it. Succeed or fail. Either way, there’s something to learn, even if failure and bad breaks teach unpleasant lessons. Unless the bad break comes solely from someone else’s decision or a natural disaster, most times changing a decision will change the outcome—next time. I would like to turn my bad breaks into good ones. Who wouldn’t?

Of course, sometimes bad breaks pile up so fast it’s hard to find the good breaks—not so much “can’t see the forest for the trees” as “can’t see the end of the tunnel because it’s filled with wrecked cars”. Today I can’t see to the end of my kitchen because I have two fridges in it and I can’t see my laundry room floor because it’s piled with dirty laundry. No complaints about the fridge, which broke after many years of good service. The second fridge, a temporary I bought while I fixed the first, is about to be donated. My old fridge is working like a charm again.

Not so, the fairly new washing machine. It never cleaned clothes well. It broke the first time at less than one year, then again at three, and at four and a half. This time the balance system went wonky, or should I say walky? Now the machine thumps halfway across the room rather than spin circles.  Spinning in circles isn’t good for people, but it is for washers. Someone please tell the designers. I’m too busy researching what not to buy this time. Never mind Consumer Reports. Now I’m reading epinions.com, pissedconsumer.com, etc.

My washer’s poor design was out of my control. The reviews that labeled it the top performing top-load washer were out of my control. The price of the broken part is out of my control, $90 for a “rotor position sensor”, Greek for “I’ll jump up and down because that’s my senseless disposition”. The break’s timing, right after the fridge, was out of my control.

Whether I throw good money after bad to fix a clothes eating monster, a Kenmore Oasis, is in my control. I won’t buy the Whirlpool Cabrio either. It’s the same thing under original manufacturer’s name. Consumers of the internet have spoken. Both tangle, wrinkle, and eat clothes. Both allow small things to escape the washer and ruin the pump. Both have bad control boards and end up with broken balance systems.

Too bad I love the dryer, doomed for a dumping by association. I’m color blind for people, but appliances are different. Can’t have a blue dryer with a white washer, right?

So, why am I complaining about appliances breaking in a writer’s blog? It’s all about pieces that unbalance peace as a whole. My book’s current 5th chapter was the first I wrote, dumping my protagonist into a hostile dessert, not desert, territory. My supposed high efficiency washer was my first bought since we moved to Florida, hostile laundry territory due to desserts like blueberry and mud pie, plus muddy bayous, sandy beaches, camping and hurricanes. Neither my book’s first chapter nor my washer could cut the mustard, let alone the blueberry stains.

A few years ago, I found out Emerald Coast Writers' critique group could help me fix my book without stealing my story ideas. I ended up writing a new first chapter, setting up the later chapters. By the time I realized neither new beginning nor new washer were problem free, it was too late to go back. I’d sold my old washer and learned too much about writing to revert to the original first chapter. It was necessary, like my washer, but unlike my washer, not the place to begin.

I tried to work around both problems—both bucked and stomped around. I can’t begin to tell how many times I rearranged clothes in the washer and scenes in my book to get a perfect balance, until I realized I was using the wrong repairman. A book meant for young teens to read needed middle grade reviewers, not adults. At last I got them, a whole class of 7th graders. So unlike the never-ending wash cycle, my book is now finished, balanced. Old and new scenes blended into a climax the whole class loved. How do I know? The teacher said so.

Beep-beep, all done—the school year is over. I think I made that break, but not without a lot of help. Now it’s time to shop for a washer. Any ideas? If not, I’m all washed up. No, this time I’m going to clean up.

Emerald Coast Writers put on their 2011 conference last weekend, a chance for writers to clean up our acts—and facts. Writing is all about cleaning. We clean up our mistakes, grammar and punctuation. We clean up our style to make it interesting and easy to understand. We clean up our schedules to make time to write. We clean up our facts so we won’t get sued. Vincent O’Neal even taught us to clean up our acting—using acting techniques to make our writing on the page reach out and grab the reader like actors do. There’s almost no end of cleaning before we can sell and publish our work. And then, of course, we hope to really clean up by publishing a best seller.

I loved conference, even if a few things didn’t go as planned—minor glitches due to unforeseen circumstances. For example, only one of the 7th graders I’m working with at a local middle school turned in an entry for the student writing contest. The students didn't have time to write in class because of FCAT studies. But no problem at conference got so messy as to make me regret paying to attend. Quite the opposite. The organizers responded with nimble reflexes and quick thinking to straighten things out. Lee Thomas and Joyce Holland put their hearts and souls into conference, along with many other volunteers. Kudos! As a result of their hard work, I am so excited I can hardly contain myself—even though I made a mess of my own plans.

I clean forgot to ask Betsy Mitchell, Editor-in-Chief of Del Rey, to read a page or two of my work to give her more incentive to refer me to the middle-grade editor in another department within Random House, a huge publishing house. I did remember to ask Michelle Richter of St. Martin’s Press, and she said, “This looks pretty good.” She asked me to email her, which I will in a few days. I want to give her time to breathe after she gets back to New York. I had given Dianne Hamilton of OnStage Publishing my first chapter before my appointment. But I was so engrossed in suggestions she made, I forgot to ask if she would be interested in seeing more. There’s another mess I have to clean up later.

The chance to have other writers—great writers—critique my work was the best thing about conference. I had just written a new opening for my book, one meant to hook reluctant readers better than the original, because one seventh grader, a female, mentioned my book’s opening didn’t hook her in as well as it could have. She suggested a back-flash. I didn’t do that before because of word count limitations, but after dividing my book last summer, I had room. So I wrote the new opening scene and brought it to conference for expert critiques. Am I glad I did? YES! Oops, we’re not supposed to yell.

Kathy Carmichael helped me get into a closer point of view and wanted the emotional hook right at the beginning. I knew from previous tries that most men prefer action over emotion, so I asked Vincent O’Neal and Victor DiGenti their opinions too. I got Vinnie’s that afternoon, went home Friday evening and rewrote my first section, marrying the male and female suggestions. A good marriage is all about compromise. The result was much more compelling than either male or female version alone.

Saturday morning, I got Victor’s, Dianne Hamilton’s, and Benjamin LeRoy’s critiques and blended those in. Benjamin seem surprised I actually liked getting criticism. But how else am I going to perfect my work?Dianne is such a great editor; she set my brain on fire. She caught inconsistencies with teenage behavior I had passed right over. I’ve only been working with seventh graders since January, not long enough to catch every nuance. I memorized a few of her suggestions so fast I included them in an afternoon reading of my first page in Joyce Holland’s workshop. The workshop attendees really liked that opening and Joyce said my writing has improved a lot in the three years since she last read it. Then I really messed up by failing to mention that although a seventh grader inspired me to write that new opening, it was Kathy, Dianne, Benjamin, Vincent and Victor who helped me clean it up. So I am now giving credit where credit is overdue.

Please forgive me for being so excited about the seventh grader who inspired that section that I forgot to mention the adults who did the final polishing. I hope I can return the favor someday. But if not, I will continue helping the students get story ideas, develop them, write them, and then clean up their own work. Emerald Coast Writers agreed to sponsor a student writing contest for these seventh grade students. Although it is delayed because of FCAT preparation, the wonderful reading teacher said she’ll give the students time to write during class afterward. I would mention her name if not for privacy concerns. Without written consent, the students have to remain anonymous, but the winning entries will be announced before school ends. I hope they clean up!

My to do list gets longer every holiday season. It's a wonder I made it anywhere near the computer this month, let alone my blog. The time passed fast, yet the most enjoyable hours I spent all month were two I spent visiting a class at a local middle-school. I have Mary Brown, our ECW critique group chairperson, to thank for coordinating with a teacher friend to get another teacher's reading class to review my first three chapters. I don't want to put names in my blog without permission, but I was overjoyed when Mary's friend called to say the reviews were finished and to ask if I could visit. Yes! I wanted to jump through the phone.

During my visit I talked about reading, writing, how I get my ideas, and all sorts of things, including the difficulty of making a living as a book author vs. a technical writer or reporter, for instance. I asked the students questions and they asked me questions. I hope they enjoyed it as much as I did. When they voted to let me come back for another visit the next week I was ecstatic, to say the least. I felt like I carried home a bucket of gold in the form of reviews of my manuscript, chapters 1 through 3, which they had been reading since near the beginning of school.

By the time I read through all the stack at home, I was surprised the class didn't give me the boot. The opening of chapter 1 confused everybody, as did much of the rest of the chapter, but the majority of students wanted to read more. Chapter 2 had the worst problems, so much that only half wanted to read more. Hence, the blog title -- 2 was too much. Thank goodness, Chapter 3 turned the tide, with a cliffhanger ending. It was really muddy,  a mystery that made all but a few students want to read more. Whew. I was very glad I didn't visit until after they read chapter 3.

Wouldn't you know my mad science puns confused almost all the students. That was just the beginning, so I got busy and rewrote, and rewrote again and again. Two wasn't enough, and even twenty wasn't too much. At the next visit, the day before Christmas vacation, I read some of the revised parts as the class ate muffins, my bribe to keep them happy. They seemed to like those parts better, but the real test will be their written anonymous reviews. I read aloud bits of my favorite reviews from the first batch, one of which was a well-done negative review with helpful specific suggestions. Even so, anonymity will encourage honesty. I left chapters 1-6 for the class to read over Christmas break. And woo-hoo! I get to visit again once they finish, so I guess two wasn't too much for the class, either. 

One of my biggest hopes is that more of the students will try writing stories themselves. Two already said they did and I'm anxious to read their stories. I promised if the students would help me with my story, I would help them too. In this case, two is definitely not too much. Bring 'em on!

I also explained to the class why I decided to split my own book in two, catering to publishing industry rules for word count of middle-grade vs. YA. One was too much, but two won't be, in terms of book length. Since then, I have managed to write some of my new ending. I'm maybe halfway through the plan, which changes every time I touch a keyboard. I have another think or two coming before the next class visit. I try inventing new ideas when I take a walk, but that doesn't work.  So I let my fingers do the walking. They connect better to my unconscious than my conscious mind does, and they're not telling -- until I type.  For those type digits, two is nowhere near too much. I need all ten.