Books: week three

This was the week that I started reading too many books at once and am still only half-way through some of them. (I'm hoping I'm not the only reader who does this!)

I did manage to finish a couple of books:

Jennifer Weiner, Then Came You. (I keep reading Weiner's books because she has such smart, fascinating protagonists. I really liked the idea of a community of women that came out of this book--I'm less fond of Weiner's habit of inserting some fairly explicit scenes in her novels. I get that people sleep together--I just don't need to know the details!)
Alexander McCall Smith, The Saturday Big Tent Wedding (I love Precious Ramotswe. His No. 1 Ladies detective agency books continue to be interesting--even into the, what is this, the 12th book in the series?)

Books I started but didn't finish:
Maggie Stiefvater, The Scorpio Races (a beautifully written book--the only reason this keeps getting pushed back on my list is because I own it--all the others are library books, and new releases at that, so I can't keep them long).

Rae Carson, Girl of Fire and Thorn

Hopefully by next week I'll actually manage to finish these!

2012 reading list: week 2

I thought I was fairly busy last week (I had a horrible head cold and a big freelance project), but apparently I wasn't too busy to read.

Amy Chua, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother (for book club)
Georgette Heyer, Bath Tangle (re-read; Heyer is one of my go-to comfort author when I'm sick)
Jay Asher and Carolyn Mackler, The Future of Us (as someone who went to HS in the mid 1990s, it was fascinating to remember how different technology was then. The premise here was really interesting, but I never felt really connected to the characters)

On Being Ordinary

I'm over at Segullah again, talking about some of the challenges of an upcoming birthday.

Something Stale this way comes

Namely, the state of this blog! In my defense, I've been posting more frequently with a blog I started with my awesome critique group partners: thinkingthroughourfingers.blogspot.com. Okay, so "frequently" really is only about twice a month, but that's an improvement here.

I'm thinking, though, that this would be a great place to record the books I've read this year. I tend to read a lot--more especially now that I'm trying to take myself seriously as a writer--but I also tend to forget a lot of the books I've read. I don't have a particular goal for this year, but I'd like to see where I end up at year's end.

So far, I'm off to a good start (having a vacation from school helps!). Here are the books I've read so far for 2012:

Julia Golding, Dragonfly (Interesting, but I probably read it too fast as I discovered it was due back to the library that day and someone had placed a hold on it so I couldn't renew it!)
Matthew Kirby, Icefall (loved this! You can read my review here)
Kirsten White, Supernaturally
And I'm two-thirds of the way through Laini Taylor's Lips Touch Three Times. Taylor has a lush, gorgeous prose style, so I've enjoyed the stories, even though I don't always like my fantasy quite so dark. (I did love her Silksinger series, and I'm looking forward to her Daughter of Smoke and Bone)

Liebster Award

So, my friend Tasha generously gave me this web award. I say generously both because it was thoughtful of her and also because I haven't, um, exactly posted here frequently of late!

Here's how this works: 

 

Copy this award onto your blog.

Thank and link to the person that gave it to you.

Forward it to 5 bloggers that have less than 200 followers.

Comment on those 5 peoples blogs, to share the good news.

Here are the five people who I am sharing this award with:

 

Emily M., one of the smartest women I know, at Hearing Voices

Jenilyn Tolley, who I think has had this reward before, but she's one of my favorite people, so . . .

Erin Shakespear, who introduced me to Mette Harrison, at Shakespear's Stage

Rebecca Birkin, who's a fabulous writer

And Catherine P, at Bluestocking Mama, who's inspired me in many ways.

Updates

Querying is grueling--even more than I expected. In my head, I thought I could make it fun by having  a personal contest with myself as to how many rejections I rack up. Turns out, not even that can make it fun. A rejection is still a rejection.

Here's where I'm at: 19 query letters (including two I sent this summer, which was, in retrospect, WAY too early). Two requests for full. (I can't help wondering: Are they just being nice?) Five definite NOs. (All but one were form rejections). Two probable nos (given that their posted response time has come and gone). A bunch of who-knows? Any more, given the ease of electronic submissions, many agents are so deluged by queries that they simply don't respond if they're not interested.

I've also decided to stop querying, for now. I got some good feedback from a writer friend that I need to think about and figure out how to implement to make the story better. Once I've finished that, I might consider querying again.

However, today has been one of those mornings. Even though my friend's feedback was overall positive on the concept and writing, her suggestions for the characters have temporarily floored me. I'm not sure how to increase the voice in my story. I thought I was already doing that.

Sometimes it's daunting to me to see the gap between where I want to be and where I'm at. When I used to have artistic pretentions, it was easy for me to look at my picture and see the gap between what was in my head and what was on paper. It's much harder for me to "see" that gap with writing--it's more of an intuitive thing. And it's a bit galling (and frightening) to figure out that after all these years of playing with words, I *still* don't know what I'm doing.

On the other hand, I can only get better with practice. Right? Right? (Sometimes I wonder).

In any case, I'm not quite ready to give up. But I am starting to feel that vast wasteland of writer's despair that only chocolate can assuage . . . Good thing DH bought those chocolate pretzels this weekend.

The query game

People told me querying was hard. I guess I just didn't get how hard it can be.

To put it in context, it feels a little bit like dating in high school (if you were like me, and didn't date much). You liked a guy, you hoped really hard he might like you, but most of the time all you got were some kind words and nothing else.

I kind of expected that in high school.

This kind of rejection, even though it's much less personal (after all, I don't have to see the agents who reject me), is in some ways harder. I always prided myself on being smart--and on being a good writer. After all, I make a living teaching writing, and it's the essays I wrote to get into college that helped me win the scholarships I had.

In other words, my identity is more vested in the idea of being good at writing than it was in being pretty. So to be rejected because my writing isn't quite right . . . it hurts.

The good thing is, this book won't be my only shot. I hope that there will be others. And the advice my mother gave me when I worried about being an old maid applies here too: "It only takes one."

In the meantime, I'm going to take solace in Kiersten White's stages of query grief.