Wednesday, June 30, 2010

ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO




I’m used to my computer acting crazy…
And playing tricks on me.
But not my printer.
I was printing my query letter to send to an agent when–
Jammmmmmm!
Now what?
I looked on the digital message. What the–
I’m sick of printing this same letter!
Huh?
It’s me you idiot—your printer sending this message.
I blinked hard. Must still have plica semilunaris (a.k.a. "sleep")  in my eyes.
Your eyes are fine. It’s your brain that’s needs help.
I kept blinking. What else can one do when their printer is sending strange messages?
Do you know how many times you’ve printed this same letter?
Well, HP, you’re not so bright after all. It’s the latest version.
Version smersion. The last three dozen copies, you’ve only changed a “this” or a “that.”
But you don’t understand, it has to be perfect.
YOU don’t understand. I’m sick of printing in black only.
But query letters have to be black ink only.
Says who?
All the agents. No fancy paper. No colored ink. No perfume. No glitter. And definitely no blood, fake or otherwise.
Then how about some colored business cards? You’re going to need them for RWA Nationals.
You know about RWA Nationals?
Hello? I sit here next to you all day. I hear you talk on the phone.
Well, actually I do need business cards, but I was–
What? Going to have them professionally printed? Why?
Because they have to look professional. No jagged edges. Even margins.
Well that’s the paper stock’s fault. I just print. What about a colored photo or two?
Well, I guess I could. But they never come out looking clear.
Because you let the color cartridge go dry. It’s your fault.
Fine then. After you print my query letters today, I’ll find something in color to print, OK?
I’d love that.
I need to ask you a question.
Shoot.
Why do you always jam or misprint when I need an envelope?
I’m old, I don’t like change. I–
Yes, you are old. Maybe I need to upgrade to a new–
NO! I promise I won’t jam anymore. I’ll be good.
Fine. And I promise to print something in color.
By the way, did I tell you your query letter is great?
How would you possibly know? You’re only a printer.
You underestimate my capabilities. I’m connected to your laptop.
So?
And your laptop is connected to the Internet.
And?
When you're gone I surf the net.
Really?
And I’ve compared yours to others.
And?
While your earlier versions were stinkers, this version is great.
Why, thank you…
By the way. I’m sick of you using Arial font. Why don’t you try mine?
Which is?
CUCKOO!

Always, Em-Musing

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

TROPIC OF PANTSER

Clarity!
Oh, sweet clarity!
It came to me yesterday, late morning…
I was sitting in my office fretting…
(ha! this is the first time I’ve used the word fret )
My mind felt like a wet dish rag…
Saturated with murky, good-for-nothing thoughts.
Just when I was going to throw myself on the bed and…
Have a good pity party…
Take a nap…
Or just chill for a bit…
Out of my mind popped a clear thought.
Turn on the air conditioning!
It’s 98 friggin’ degrees in this office!
You’re sweating like a pig!
I can’t function with all this heat and humidity!
You may like to feel like you’re in the tropics…
But I don’t!
And so I went downstairs and turned on the air.
Within 20 minutes…
The bloating subsided in my swollen fingers…
The sweat dried up…
And my mind got clear.
I then came up with several pitches for RWA Nationals and…
The final version of my query and…
A “to do” list…
And did them all!
I also made a "Note to Self”…
Heat and humidity in the jungle—good…
Heat and humidity in office—not good.
Just then my mind popped out another thought…
This writer's retreat
That you're going to build In the jungle in Akumal
You are planning to have air conditioning, aren't you?
NOTE TO WRITERS:  Yes, there will be air conditioning.

Always, Em-Musing
NOTE TO NON-WRITERS: Pantser is a writer who writes the story as it unfolds before them, with no real plan or direction.

Monday, June 28, 2010

PITCH FORTH

I’m stuck!
Nothing in my head will move.
Well, that’s not true…
Thoughts and ideas are moving…
But in a never-ending loop…
Round and round they go…
Whizzing and flying…
Till I’m dizzy…
(Dear God I hope it’s not an impending tumor)
And not accomplishing anything.
I cannot focus!
RWA nationals is coming up next month…
I should have my pitch down pat…
I should have researched all the agents and editors…
Why can’t I settle on a version?
Why can’t I …
See?
I can’t even finish this thought!
I just know next month…
There’ll be a warning going around the RWA conference…
“Beware of a menopausal woman…
Wandering around…
With a dazed (or crazed) look on her face
Babbling to anyone who comes within two feet of her."
Or else I'll be holed up in the hotel room
With my poor roommate pulling and yanking me
"You paid all this money! Now get out there! Mingle! Network! Quit being such a wuss! And no, I will not bring food to you anymore! Now go!"


Always, Em-Musing

Friday, June 25, 2010

BACK TO REALITY

Today…
I want to get back to my writing…
I want to continue querying agents…
I want to research Mayan culture…
But can not…
I have to babysit my grandkids.
There will be no laptop time…
Only time on grandma’s lap.
But early this morning I did squeeze in some research…
About the year 2012.
For years now, all I've been hearing
Is that according to the Mayan calendar
The world is going to come to an end…
On 12-21-2012.
Not so!
Not according to this:
"Amazingly, there is a cultural/prophetic context for the arising of this Feminine-based planetary transformation that is underway. The Mayan 2012 prophecies foretold of this shift of planetary stewardship into the hands of the Feminine. In a personal communication with this author, Nicaraguan Mayan Grandmother Flordemayo, of the International Council of 13 Indigenous Grandmothers, explained that the final glyph (pictogram) from the “Mayan Story of Creation” (the Dresden Codex) shows the Reawakening of the Feminine." — Vikki Hanchin
This really appeals to me.
Here I was afraid that I’d no sooner get my writer/spiritual retreat up and running…
Then the world would come to an end…
On 12-21-2012   the winter solstice.
Talk about bad timing to open a business!
But according to 13 Indigenous Maya  “grandmothers”…
(love grandma wisdom)
The world will not end
But will transition or reawaken…
Into a new phase.
I like this…
Because I feel I am transitioning into a new phase of my life.
I am going to do everything in my power…
To have this retreat up and running…
On 12-21-2012.
Wow!
What a party that’ll be!
Wanna join me?
But today…
It’s back to reality…
Because before this party begins…
I have to actually close the deal on the property.

Always, Em-Musing

Thursday, June 24, 2010

SHH and TELL

I'm back
From paradise…
And of course as luck would have it…
The hotel I stayed in…
Was iffy…
If I could get on the Internet.
But in a day or two…
I’ll post some pics of the area where I’m going to build…
My writer/spiritual retreat.
(Shh! Don’t tell my daughters)
It’s in St. Martin Mexico
On the Riviera Maya…
In a palm tree jungle…
Between Play del Carmen…
And Tulum.
And just 1.8 miles from Akumal
That is famous for diving and snorkeling in its cenotes.
If you've ever been to this area
Then you know how spiritual it feels…
And how drawn you are…
(or maybe it’s humidity in the brain)
To something.
And whatever that something is
It’s the first time I can see my future…
And know I won’t be a bit character…
In someone else’s life…
But the lead in my own.
I’ve never felt so sure about anything…
And based on the other property owners already there…
Who run…
An organic yoga retreat, a B&B, a Reiki center…
I should do well with keeping my retreat booked.
I just have to design a great website
Market it to the right audience
And shhh!
Contain my excitement around my daughters…
Until the retreat is up and running
So they don’t have to worry
That mom has gone off the deep end of
A midlife crisis.

Always, Em-musing

Friday, June 18, 2010

MY OWN DREAM

I’m surprised my daughters…
Don’t wonder why they didn’t grow up…
Without scissors stuck in each of their eyes…
Based on how they perceive me as a not-so-bright mom.
You know that concept out there that says…
Roles reverse in life…
First you change your kids diapers…
Then one day (God forbid)…
Your kids will have to change yours?
Well, trust me…
That process starts happening years earlier.
It seems the more mature they get…
The more immature they think I get.
Take this weekend for instance…
I’m leaving to seek out a dream idea…
One that’s been evolving in my mind…
For a year now–
A writer/spiritual retreat…
Down in Mexico
South of the Riviera Maya…
Not too far from Tulum…
And the ancient Mayan ruins.
The rain forest will be the backdrop…
For the house that sits a couple of hundred feet…
In front of the turquoise waters of the Mexican Caribbean.
“Mom! Are you nuts?”
“I’m just looking. I’m not buying anything.”
“That government can seize your property anytime they want.”
“Not true, but trust me, I’m just looking now.”
“You’ll wind up in jail or something.”
“Why? What do you think I’m going to do down there?”
“I don’t know, but something bad will happen.”
“Looking isn’t illegal.”
“But you’re easily swayed. You buy impulsively.”
“Only souvenirs from the women who sell those little plastic bobble-head turtles.”
“How will this retreat work?”
“I haven’t worked out all the details yet. I’m just fact-finding now.”
“Mom, this is crazy! Is this a midlife crisis you’re going through?”
 “No, I’m planning my future.”
“Planning your future is checking out your Medicare health benefits and–“
“Enough! I am the mom here. You don’t have to worry. I know what I’m doing. And when I don’t, I’ll figure it out.”
Well, that was enough to stop their questions…
But not my brain.
There is a lot to consider.
Thankfully the realtor that I’m hooking up with is Canadian…
And has lived in this area for over 20 years.
And has started a wellness community in this area.
So
I guess I know what my idea of  a writer/spiritual retreat is…
But what would you, the readers of my blog want?
(May I assume you’d want to come?)
Would you want just a place to write/meditate in a beautiful setting?
Yoga available?
A full library of both books on writing like Donald Maas' books?
And spirituality books like Don Miguel Ruiz’s books?
Massages available?
Tours?
A free Panama hat, ball cap, or floppy beach hat?
Well…
You tell me…
PLEASE!
And of course there’ll be delicious food available at all times.
If my brain hasn’t been kidnapped while I’m down there…
And I can get o the Internet…
I hope to post some pics.
Adios for now amigos and vaya con Dios.

Always, Em-Musing

Thursday, June 17, 2010

DOC'N AROUND

The last thing I want to do…
In the middle of my day is…
Drop everything I’m doing…
Just to drop my draws at the OB/GYN…
Perch on a table with white paper beneath…
A big sheet of pink paper on top…
And wait…
And wait…
And wait.
Now, I don’t mind waiting…
Ten…
Fifteen…
Twenty minutes…
But my spine starts caving at the thirty minute mark.
And you’d think being my doc is a woman…
She’d understand.
(I wonder how long she has to perch at her doctor’s?)
So there I was—perched and waiting…
Not only sans clothes…
But sans a pad and pen.
All I could do was think…
And that's when I came up with a great idea.
I think doctors who make their patients wait so long…
Should provide some kind of compensation…
In the form of a service …
Like a manicure.
Who wouldn’t be thrilled to have a free manicure?
Or how about a massage?
We’re already naked on a table…
All we’d have to do is flip.
Or how about a fortune teller?
Who wouldn’t want to know their future?
I’d of course ask…
Is my current query letter OK?
Or is it a real stinker?
Will I ever find a literary agent?
And when I do…
Will I still have all my teeth?
What about that three book deal I keep dreaming about?
Yada, yada, yada.
Then…
After all of my literary questions were answered…
I’d ask the most pressing question of all…
No, not how much longer before I see the doc
But how do I get to the bathroom down the hall
Dressed like a roll of paper towels?

Always Em-Musing

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

I WANNA BE

Oh no…
Something’s brewing…
(not coffee)
In my gut
(not vomit)
It’s a familiar sensation…
That starts like a dull gnaw…
Then slithers through my psyche…
Growing and festering…
Until a full blown case of…
DOUBT!
Settles in.
I hate it!
I don’t always know why it starts…
I’m an upbeat person most of the time…
I always see the brighter side of life…
I laugh a lot with friends…
I’m always looking for a comedy on TV…
But I got another rejection letter…
Actually three this last week.
Seems like everyone in my wiriter group is moving ahead…
But me.
I have a recurring daymare that one day…
My neighbors will find me…
On the floor by my laptop…
I’ll be withered and worn…
My cup of coffee green with fuzz…
My nightgown yellow with sweat and tears…
Around me will be stacks of papers.
“What’s this?” someone will ask.
“Why, they’re all letters,” another one will say.
“Rejection letters,” a paramedic will add. “Seen it before.”
‘Really?  What’s happened to her?”
“She got a bad case of delusion. Happens all the time.”
“Really?”
“Yes, to all wannabe writers”
The neighbors will make that “tsch, tsch,” sound with their tongue.
“Could it have been prevented?” another neighbor will ask.
“Absolutely,” the paramedic will say. “Someone should have told this woman years ago…
“Yes? Yes?” the neighbors will all chime together.
“That her writing stinks.”
NO!
I will not give in to these sad thoughts!
I will not give up on my dream!
I will not drink a shot of tequila till tonight…
I will send another query out today!
(Or, God forbid,  revise it again)
I will call my friend and tell her to make me laugh…
I will have hope.
Because RWA Nationals is coming…
And I've got to muster up all the self confidence I can 
In hopes of pitching.

Always Em-Musing

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

KIDDING AROUND

Kids are great!
They see life very differently.
Obviously their frame of reference is–
Well, they don’t have a frame of reference yet.
This is where parents and grandparents teach them.
However…
There are some places…
You should never take inquisitive children…
With loud mouths…
To.
"Why is everyone so old here, grandma?"
"It's a nursing home. And not everyone is old."
"Are all these people nurses?"
"No, honey. That's just what they call this place."
“What’s that smell, grandma?”
“Shh! Don’t talk so loud.”
“Why are all those people sleeping?”
“I guess they’re tired. Shh!”
“Grandma, Why is that man staring at me?”
“Maybe ‘cause you’re a pretty little girl. Honey, please don’t talk so loud.”
“Grandma, that man is–“
I know! SHHHHHHH!!!!
"Grandma, that lady is talking to herself."
"I know, honey."
'Why?"
"I'm not sure. Honey, please keep your voice down."
“Grandma, are those bibs on those people?”
“Yes, honey,”
“Why?”
“To keep they’re clothes clean. Now, shhh, please!”
“Grandma?
“Yes, honey?”
“Are those big diapers the nurse is holding?
“I think so.”
“Why are they so big?”
“I don’t know honey. And please don’t talk so loud.”
“Are they for fat people? Do fat people wear diapers?”
“No! Now SHUSH!”
“Grandma? I’m confused. Who wears those big diapers?”
An hour later…
And twenty more questions…
We finally left.
I was exhausted!
On the drive home it occurred to me…
I’ve been in that nursing home dozens of times…
Have been around and seen everything my granddaughters saw…
But…
Never saw all the details quite like they did.
Hmm?
Maybe…
When I’m writing scenes in my chapters…
My five senses need to be…
On kid alert.

Always, Em-Musing



Monday, June 14, 2010

CHEMICALLY INDUCED STUPIDITY

Warning to writers!
Do not write with chemicals…
Either in your head…
Or on your head!
Because…
You will turn into…
An idiot…
Like me…
I have an appointment later today…
And after getting startled by a skunk this morning…
(me in the mirror with an inch wide stripe of gray hair down my scalp)
I figured I’d better take the time to dye my hair.
So as not to look unprofessional.
(or like an idiot)
So, there I was…
Putting the last drop of dye on my hair…
When an idea for a chapter in my newest novel…
Popped into my mind.
Quickly, I washed my hands and ran to my laptop.
And oh, the words flowed…
My fingers flew over the keyboard…
I felt like a maestro…
Composing the most creative piece of work when…
Huh?
Why does my head feel hot?
The dye!
I looked at the clock.
OMG!
The dye had been processing on my head…
For an hour!
I sprinted to the bathroom…
Jumped in the shower…
I rinsed, I shampooed. I rinsed, I shampooed.
For ten minutes.
Then I slapped a handful of conditioner…
On my still warm head.
Tentatively, I stepped out of the shower.
Nervously I looked in the mirro–
AHHGG!
Pink hair!
And pink scalp!
Now what?
What do I say at this meeting this morning?
“Hi, please excuse my pink hair. I over processed it.”
And then smile like an idiot?
Or do I just shake their hands…
Say nothing…
And let them think what they want?
Hmm? Pink Hair? Pink scalp? She must be an idiot!
So to all writers…
I caution you…
So as not to look like an idiot 
Focus…
While under the influence…
Of chemicals.

Always, Em-Musing

Friday, June 11, 2010

IN TURN

My muse and I have been arguing this morning
I'm trying to warn her!
About sticking my toe in…
Don’t do it!
The controversial waters of…
No!
The publishing industry.
I'm begging you!
Because I’m confused…
Better to stay confused than be a pariah!
And I need ask a few questions.
You’ve been warned!
Recently in The Huffington Post
Any potential agent out thereplease disregard her!
An agent wrote an article…
OK! She’s on her own! I’m outta here!
On rejection letters…
And how awful it feels…
Sending them out…
To the thousands of writers submitting to him each year…
And why in the future, he may not send them out.
So here’s my question/suggestion…
What about hiring an intern to send out these rejections?
I believe interns are free because they earn credit hours.
I’d bet there’d be a line out the door and down the street…
Of students eager to work in an agent’s office.
And their job could be as simple as…
Taking the stack of query “rejects” …
And sending the form rejection letter in the SASE.
(because very few agents give a personal reply)
Or the intern can hit an auto “rejection” reply…
To respond to the email queries.
Badda boom, badda bing!
See? I think this is a great solution.
Especially since I’ve heard agents don’t even read the queries…
That an assistant reads them first.
So, dear kind, considerate agent, think of it like this…
You have a lump (God forbid!)…
You go to the doctor…
A biopsy is done…
And now you’re waiting for the results.
And you wait…
And you wait…
And you wait!
You're going out of your mind to know!
Trust me
It's far better to know if the lump is benign or malignant…
Rather than to hear nothing at all?
So dear, gentle agent
While sending rejections is difficult
We writers are far better off knowing
Rather than hearing nothing nothing at all.
Think of it this way
Rejecting someone's query
Isn't as bad as
Telling someone they're
Well, you get the picture.
So, am I bad for making this point
And speaking for the thousands of writers
Who wait?

Always, Em-Musing
P.S. And if I am? Mea culpa!