Tell the story....

Okay, so it's been months, not a year, so we're making progress. I wish I could say that my increased ability to focus was in direct proportion to the state of the world, but....

Dear reader, things have gotten progressively worse, but we have no choice but to keep going, right? 

In more direct terms, the horrors persist, nevertheless, so do I.

I'm still querying my first book and preparing to start querying my second. I'm trying to stay optimistic despite the reality of how difficult it was to break into publishing before (gestures wildly around me), all of this began. Add the issue of rising costs on everything, library funding being cut, and the increasing attack of book bans, and one might (should) ask why I would want to do this. Why would I want to persist? Because in times like these, art is one of the few ways we have to truly express how we are feeling. We use our talents to connect with others who are feeling the same way we do. If I had any talent with a paintbrush, I would be Van Goghing the hell out of a canvas right now. If I were an actor, I would be searching for roles that involve leading a rebellion. If I were Taylor Swift, I would be writing the next Who's Afraid of Little Old Me. 

I have a computer and a small ability to tell a story, and up until now, they've been quiet ones. My first is about a ghost whisperer who desperately wants to be a normal teenager. My second one involves undiagnosed anxiety, reincarnation, and redemption. I love my characters and the soft stories they have to tell. But this past year, an idea came to me that was outside my comfort zone. It links back to the first time I heard Taylor Swift's Who's Afraid of Little Old Me. I remember having a visceral reaction to the anger of the song. I wondered what would happen if the good person was pushed too far, and would the consequences really be their fault? So, last summer, I wrote a basic outline and a couple of chapters that explored supernatural abilities and bullying. I set it aside after that, planning to return when my second book was finished, but I have to admit that part of me worried. This isn't what I write. Thrillers, even borderline horror, are not something I thought I identified with. I can read those stories, but I didn't feel like I had it in me to write anything close...but ideas have been coming to me. I don't want to give anything away, but my outline expanded to include women's health, false Christianity, and feminine rage. 

Maybe, because of the current world, I do have it in me. I hope one day my story will connect with someone else....

In the meantime, I'm still absorbing as much art as I can.

Books I read:

Wilder Girls - Rory Power - An all-girls school under quarantine after a virus outbreak that alters them physically. I was looking for some inspiration for my female rage story, and this certainly gave some insight. 

Dinner for Vampires: Life on a Cult TV Show - Bethany Joy Lenz - Wow! An absorbing study of how someone can get pulled into a cult, as well as an examination of how someone's spiritual beliefs can be used to control them.

Books I'm reading:

When the World Tips Over - Jandy Nelson - Jandy's books are set in reality but infused with such magic. So jealous of her storytelling.

Our Infinite Fates - Laura Stevens - I've been patiently waiting for this book, especially since it was compared to my favorite, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue. It also contains a reincarnation plot like my second story. Two souls who are destined to love and kill each other in a thousand lifetimes - what?? 

What I'm listening to: 

Cacophony - Paris Paloma - Pretty sure there's a reason her song Labour is receiving so much attention right now.

Mayhem - Lady Gaga - She's always reinventing herself, and I appreciate that her song How Bad Do U Want Me, is filling my Taylor Swift void for new music :) :)

What I'm watching:

Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Hear me out. I remember watching this in the 90s, but I had forgotten so much of it. For some reason, watching demons getting taken out in every episode is oddly comforting. 

The Handmaid's Tale - I'm not technically watching, as the final season doesn't start for another 4 days, but I am psyching myself up for it. I read the book in college and found it to be such a chilling and yet far-off story. The series debuted in 2017, which seems like 10 lifetimes ago. Unfortunately, the story no longer seems far-fetched. As the saying goes, objects in the rearview mirror may appear closer than they are....

I would love to hear how you're using your talents and gifts to connect with others, and as always, what are you reading?! :)

~Adrienne

The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion....Albert Camus

In times of universal deceit, telling the truth will be a revolutionary act....George Orwell

I know, I know how long it’s been. I don’t need the lecture. In all fairness, I have been writing, editing, and querying. So yes, I have been doing all the writing.

Just not here.

But let’s just move on, shall we?

So, like I said, I have been doing all of the things related to writing and books…except for reading. I don’t know about anyone else, but for the last two months of 2024, my brain went into some kind of shutdown mode when it came to reading. Up until then, I had been rolling happily along, reading daily before it came to a screeching halt. I couldn’t pinpoint anything specific. It seemed to be gradual; one day, I would read a few paragraphs before realizing I couldn’t recall anything that I had read. Other times, I would feel physically exhausted the minute I started reading. It didn’t matter if I was in bed at 10 pm or in a chair at 4 pm. Everything would shut down. The last straw was heightened anxiety that made it impossible to focus on anything (except for doom scrolling). So I stopped, fully gave up, and didn’t pick up a book for the rest of the year. It was so bad that I didn’t make my reading goal for the year. Up to that point, I’d been on track to exceed my goal. I had only ever not met it during Covid.

I started thinking back on that time and realized the cause was extreme anxiety over not knowing what was coming. At that time, it was so bad that I also couldn’t write. However, something did change after a few months, and the desire to read came back in full force, followed by the writing. I can’t pinpoint exactly what changed back then, but I think it had to do with realizing the world wasn’t going to fix itself miraculously and I wouldn’t have to worry anymore. If anything, it would most likely remain a dumpster fire. Books were one of the few things that could bring me true happiness, even if for only a few hours.

I think I also let the holidays be an excuse. There’s so much to do during that time, so many distractions, things to take us away from the news of the day. When the holidays ended, there were no more distractions, just a startling sense of reality and how soon things would be changing again. Around that time, I noticed a lot of artists online talking about using art (music, painting, crocheting, and obviously writing) as a form of rebellion, even protest, against the darkness of the world. It wasn’t an immediate ah-ha moment, but more of a “yeah, why the F&$!#% am I letting them take joy away from me along with everything else?”  

I wish I could tell you that I don’t doom scroll anymore or worry about every little thing. But I stopped watching or listening to the news and tried to watch more videos about art, music, books, etc. I walk a fine line between needing to stay informed and not losing my mind. Some days, I do better than others. More than anything, I’ve made it a point to do something creative and absorb something creative. I’m proud to report that I have read four books since the first of the year. My hope this year is not that I’ll meet my reading goal but that there will be more minutes spent reading than doom scrolling. I hope the same for you, my friends.

If you need any inspiration, here’s what I’ve been reading:

·       The Small and the Mighty: Twelve Unsung Americans Who Changed the Course of History from the Founding to the Civil Rights Movement – Sharon McMahon – Boy, if you need some inspiration during these times, this is the book for you. Especially if you feel like only powerful people can change things.

·       How it Feels to Float – Helena Fox – I’ve been looking for stories to use as a comp for the book I’m currently editing (YA/Anxiety/Reincarnation), and this story felt right: grief, severe anxiety, and just being a teenager in today’s world.

·       The House in the Cerulean Sea – T.J. Klune – This book has been on my list for months, and my hold finally came in a week ago. After I finished it, I wrote an Instagram post for a particular quote and how this was the book I needed during this time. I don’t even know how to describe it other than - cozy fantasy, found family and the antichrist thrown in. Just read it…..

·       The Magician’s Assistant – Ann Patchett – I am a HUGE Ann Patchett fan, but there are a few of her older books that I somehow missed, and this was one. I have to be honest – some of her books I don’t know that I would have ever read based just on the description…Thankfully, I learned to ignore the blurbs years ago and have never looked back. I’m telling you right now - I will read the phone book if she ever comes out with a new version of it. No one writes about relationships and everyday lives like she does. I didn’t expect to be invested in a former magician’s assistant living in LA who found out that her late husband had a family she never knew about. Nor did I expect to care about that family living in the middle of Nebraska. I suspect I wouldn’t have either if it was anyone but Ann telling the story.  

Please let me know what you’ve been reading! We need to share all the stories…

“You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.” – Ray Bradbury.

“Literature is the most agreeable way of ignoring life.” - Fernando Pessoa

“Maybe this is why we read, and why in moments of darkness we return to books: to find words for what we already know.” - Alberto Manguel

 

Be well….

~Adrienne

Rollercoasters....

Where are my querying writers at? We need to talk. Are you okay?
If you are not a querying writer but know someone who is, maybe you should check on them.

Querying... it's so... hard. I've done this off and on a couple of times over the years until life, you know, got in the way. And I have friends who have braved all of this ahead of me. I follow tons of authors, agents, and other querying authors online, so I know how it all works. I'm not shocked by rejections or no response at all. It doesn't bother me to see other authors posting online about signing with their dream agent, signing a three-book deal, or the popular posting about something "vague." If anything, it's encouraging to see that it's still happening and that more books will be out in the world. It gives me hope that there will still be room for me.

But....

It is a roller coaster, my friends.... if you know me, you know I HATE rollercoasters. I've been querying for about a month now, and I've noticed some things.

·       You are anxiety-ridden every time you send out a query because you need to make sure you are explicitly following the instructions for every agent. (See examples of requirements below.)

o   Query letter and first five pages

o   Query letter and synopsis

o   Query letter, synopsis, pitch, and mood board

o   Query letter, synopsis, pitch, link to playlist if you have one (agents – please ask for more of these!)

o   Email query

o   Only use the Query Manager form

o   Query only one agent at the agency at a time (only query another agent after the first one passes)

o   We take 8-10 weeks to respond (if we respond)

o   A no from one agent is a no from all

o   Please submit a blood sample…okay, that last one is made up, but who knows, it may be out there somewhere.)

·       As soon as you hit send, you get a new idea for how you could have made the query better, or you find something specific to that agent that you could have pointed out in the letter.

·       An agent will post online that they are looking for something that matches EXACTLY what your book is about. You submit it, and within an hour, they reject it, saying it’s not exactly what they were looking for.

·       You get a rejection that sounds like it might be personalized, and you take their kindness to heart. Then you go on Query Tracker and see multiple comments from people who also queried the agent, and they get the same response word for word.

·       You get a query response, and for a moment, you are at the top of the rollercoaster – I loved your story concept; it’s clear you have talent, your voice is perfect, and the story is on trend…. And then you are in a free fall – I just didn’t connect 100%. I didn’t fall in love with it the way I needed to fully take this on.

·       You’ll see a random post from another author about the book they’re querying or the story they’re working on, and your heart will stop because something about it sounds so similar to yours… but it starts beating again when you realize no one can write the story the way that you can.

And maybe that is the point – millions of people (yes, millions) are out there writing a book, but only they can tell the actual story. And that is true for all of us. We can only tell our story and know that somewhere out there is the right person to help find its way into the world.

 

If you’re querying, please take this as your sign to keep going… and come say hello!

 

~Adrienne

 

New Version

In 27 days, it will be one year since my mom passed away. 

One year since anything in my life felt the slightest bit normal. 

Since 2015, the early months of each year have started with an extreme medical diagnosis for someone close to me or a death. This year was no different...the only difference is in how I am trying to deal with it.

Writing has always been an escape for me, but when the days become incredibly heavy, my mind typically stops me where I am. Journaling, blog posts, and any actual writing stop altogether. The time when I most need words and the act of writing is when the ability leaves me. Maybe I can't stand seeing the reality of what has happened laid out in words. So, all those years have resulted in a series of stops and starts.

Sometime after my mom passed away, I found my way back to a story that I had stopped working on months before. I wish I could tell you the exact moment, what it was that helped me sit down and start. I don't know what, if anything, was different about this story. Why was I able to sit in front of it and add words, sentences, and paragraphs that I couldn't before? But I did. In between paperwork, phone calls to vendors, and emails to lawyers and realtors, I managed to put together sentences. One after another. In November, I signed up for NaNoWriMo (National Writing Month) to push myself toward the finish line of a first draft. While I didn't complete it, that finish line is actually in sight. 

During that time, I received critique notes on an earlier book that had been left waiting patiently for me to come back to it. Those notes and a fresh look at the story pushed me to keep going and finalize it. Last week, I started the official querying process for it. 

I still don't know what's changed things. It could be the realization that every year brings terrible along with good and that I'm not the only one it happens to. I can't keep waiting for things to be easier because they never are. Maybe it's that I needed something that was just mine, something good that was moving the time forward, something that would give me distance from the pain. 

Time is short - it's such a cliche, but it's true. 

All I know is that the more I wrote, the more I wanted to write. I started journaling again. Some days, I can only manage to write notes: three things I'm grateful for or what would have made a day better. Sometimes, it's full pages of whatever is crowding my mind. But either way, it is moving me forward. I can't believe it's almost a year since one of the worst things happened. It still feels like yesterday. It feels like someone flipped a bunch of pages on the calendar by mistake. I can't slow it down any more than I can stop it.

I can only write one word after the other... for today, that is enough.

~Adrienne

Why Would Anyone Ever Do This???

Hi kids!

I'm back and it hasn't even been a year. Woo hoo! I know it's been a month, but I wanted to let you know that I survived that 3 day weekend of self imposed editing. AND true to form, life reared it's ugly head in the middle of it. BUT, I managed to push through. I typed with one hand and faced the issue with the other. Almost 10,000 words later, I had an updated and (I hope) improved manuscript. It has been submitted to both agents and that's all I can tell you for now.

I received a ton of messages and good wishes throughout this process, which was so very motivating. Mainly because this whole thing is exactly that. A process-a very lengthy, drawn out, crazy, lonely, process. And it made me realize how little people outside of this world know of the process, how incredibly surprised they are by how hard it is, and how long it takes to get a book published. I won't bore anyone with the tedious details, but we're talking years.

• You write the story, but then edit, correct, change, and edit some more, until you finally have something you love. And if you're doing it while working a full time job, raising kids, taking care of pets, family, and trying to maintain friendships....well, let's just say it tends to lengthen the process.
• You submit the manuscript to a ton of agents, hoping just one will be able to see the potential under the possible mess you've presented to them. 
• They offer to represent you, and then you really get to work. You'll edit again and again, until they are certain you have the best product possible. 
• The agent then submits it to publishers. If you are lucky enough that one likes it, a new process begins, whereby they need to present it to a number of people at the publishing house before a decision can be made.
• And after all that, if you are lucky enough to actually have all those stars align... it can take almost another year or two for the book to actually make it to store shelves. 

This list is as simplified as I can make it, but everyone of these steps has about a hundred steps, (and possible years) to go along with it. And since I haven't actually experienced all of them myself, I'm pretty sure I missed a couple. My apologies to all those who have come before me and succeeded in this insanity.

Now, this list just pertains to traditional publishing. These days there are a number of options available for working with smaller publishers, or actually choosing to self publish. But, I know people who have chosen both of those options, and they work just as hard (if not harder), to reach the same goal.

So, I love when someone asks me when they can buy my book. I am humbled by their faith in my ability, but I also feel despair at the possibility that my answer may have to be never.

Why? Why would anyone ever put themselves through that? That's a question I have heard a number of times, by writers and non-writers alike.

The answer for me personally, is that the stories push to be told. The idea that it may never be a fully, bound book on store shelves means nothing to the story. The characters don't know that they aren't real. They'll keep talking until someone listens. I personally will have no rest if that happens (again, Patrick Swayze). All they care is that the story gets told. I get to go into their world and help create their story. And if I get it right, I can make you laugh and cry. So the answer is, why wouldn't I?

Writers - what's your reason for doing it?
Non-writers - Do you have a passion you feel this strongly about?

Adrienne ~

Curses, Snacks, and Lots of Words......

I think I curse myself inadvertently. Every time I say "Pheww, I'm glad we got through that. Now I can get back to work," the universe literally laughs itself silly. It's been another year. How is that even possible? It's because I keep telling myself, I'll write a new post as soon as X, Y, and Z are over. The problem is that A, B, and C always follow.

I need to stop waiting for things to calm down, get easier, be normal, etc. This is the normal and I just have to figure out how to keep writing in the middle of the storm.

I'm still writing. I have been all along. Book number one has been completed for what seems like forever now. I queried a few people, entered some contests, made some changes here and there, but let's be honest, I stalled. Why? Who knows. Maybe deep down I know that if I don't actually send anything out, then I can't really be rejected. It makes complete sense when I step back and analyze it, but it's still a little bit insane. I'm doing my best to push through this.

In the meantime, I have been working on my next WIP (the idea that created itself a couple of years ago while on vacation. (See Patrick Swayze). It's a YA, completely different than my first book, other than the ghost idea. Yeah, I never actually told you about book number one, did I? Well, of course not. I'm hoping/wishing/praying, that someday you'll be able to find it on a store shelf somewhere.
In the meantime, I've been rolling right along with book two. I love the characters, and the story makes me smile to myself just thinking about it. It also breaks my heart just a little....and I hope it will break yours someday, in the best possible way.

So, as I said it has been a year. You know what that means - Pennwriter's annual conference. The time when I'm surrounded by people who get me, who motivate me, and who remind me of why I love writing. Sure enough, the magic happened again and I came back twice as motivated.

And, good news -I pitched to two agents, who BOTH requested to see part of my story!
Bad news - one of them has asked that I try to lower the word count before sending it.
Good news - I have a three day weekend ahead of me, and a house all to myself. The plan is to stock up on essentials (Food, coffee, snacks, vodka(?)) and barricade myself at my desk until Tuesday morning. I'm a little overwhelmed, a lot nervous, and a whole lot of looking forward to the challenge. Wish me luck.....

If I don't answer your call/text/email, you'll know why.

~ Adrienne

PS - Writer friends - what do you have to have in order to be productive? Specific snacks, fancy pens, particular music, lucky socks.....?

Unfolding - One Page At A Time

Time does not change us. It just unfolds us.
~ Max Frisch

How did it get so late so soon? It’s night before it’s afternoon. December is here before it’s June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?
~ Dr. Seuss

Time. 

I don’t know where the past five months have gone. They disappeared like someone turning a page in a book. One day it was damp, dreary March and we were dealing with death and illness, no idea what to do next. But, the next day happened whether we were ready or not. Now it’s the sweltering end of July, and we find ourselves blinking against the sunlight, dazed from all that has happened. 

Both of the above quotes apply aptly to my life right now. It is getting late, more so every day. And time has definitely unfolded me this year. It has pushed and pulled, stretching me to my limits. It’s forced me to be vulnerable and open up to people. It has made me do things I didn’t believe I was capable of doing, handling things I never could have imagined. 

In terms of my writing it has pushed me outside of an imaginary safety net I had created for myself. I finished my book, pitched to two agents at the annual writing conference, came in 2^nd place in a writing contest at said conference, entered an online pitch contest, and am currently preparing to take part in PitchWars. You may or may not be aware of this, but the introvert in me would not have been able to handle this many things so close together prior to this year. You would think the fear of time running out is what propelled me forward. But that’s not the case. If anything, it actually made me less afraid of things. The thought of speaking with an agent about my book became less scary after some of the things I faced this year. It made me become more focused on what is truly important to me. At the conference I received requests from those two agents to send some of my work to them. That gave me the confidence to send out a couple more queries to other agents. I made a joke on social media at the time, asking the Universe to be kind. I had been so fearful of taking that first step, showing my work to someone other than supportive friends and family. My true fear was someone telling me I had no business thinking I could be a writer. So far someone in the Universe is listening. I’ve only had a couple of responses, and even though they were No’s, they were incredibly kind and supportive. They reinforced my love for what I am doing; that whether I ever publish a single written word, just the act of writing is enough to make me happy. 

Time to unfold…… 

~Adrienne

One Day at a Time.....

Yes, it’s been that long. 

It’s been that long since I’ve written anything, let alone a blog post. That saying, “life can change in an instant?” It happened for me the first week of the New Year. It began with both of my parent’s in the same week, being diagnosed with cancer. My mother’s was caught early, my father’s too late.

The following week I turned 43. Notice I didn’t say celebrate. I couldn’t find a single thing to celebrate this year. From that point on everything narrowed itself down to the smallest fragments; going to work, and emailing/texting/calling family. It moved from there to hospitals and oncology consultations, followed by social workers and hospice. There was nothing else. No socializing, no exercising, no reading, and not a single word written, other than the aforementioned emails and texts. The only television I could manage was binge watching Stranger Things. Bizarre I know, but nothing else could hold my attention, or in the very least, not cause me to start crying.|

45 days

45 days from the initial tumor being found, my father passed away. It was peaceful, at home, with family and friends. And it was shocking. I’m still not quite sure how these last few months took place. I have no idea how we all kept on moving, eating, talking, and breathing, while simultaneously being in shock. But we did. We did it because life keeps moving and happening, whether you’re participating or not. My mom and I adopted a motto that first week. “One day at a time.” We tried to keep focus on that. Sometimes it changed to one minute at a time, but it helped keep us from spiraling somewhere into darkness. We’re still in that one day at a time mode, but sometimes we let ourselves look a little ahead. We hope for summer, we talk of vacations, a new home for my mom, and the routine of daily life.

My mom is stage one, and we’re hopeful the cancer will remain at bay for many years. But, the last few months have taught us that time is so ridiculously short, and 45 days can pass in the blink of an eye. Our goal is to find some happiness now in that day to day life. I wish that for all of us; that we can stay in the present and find the good in our days.

Part of my happiness is to find a way back to my writing, and my book. 

Posting this will be step one. One day at a time, one minute at a time.

Here we go…..

~ Adrienne