See the comments.

Posted by: Attila at 11:21 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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I'm just working on this book query thingie, so I'll be in fiction-land most of the day today.

See you tonight/tomorrow!

Posted by: Attila at 01:40 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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1 That's OK. You right-wing nutjobs are in fiction-land all the time as far as the rest of the country is concerned!

Posted by: Prof. Purkinje at August 17, 2005 10:33 AM (imA2j)

2 I'm assuming "the rest of the country" means LA, SF, NYC, and academic circles . . . You're back in the country! Yay! How's it feel?

Posted by: Attila Girl at August 17, 2005 10:37 AM (Ud5Hh)

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Does this sound stupid, incredibly stupid, or outrageously stupid?

Joy McCann

Snail-mail address

August 15, 2005

Ms. Publishing Contact
Boutique New York-Based Publishing House
Los Angeles Outpost

Dear Talent Scout Lady:

You may recall that I met you a few months ago at a publishing industry meeting, wherein you were the featured speaker. I appreciate very much your stopping by to talk to us.

As I mentioned when we all made our initial introductions, IÂ’m working on a mystery novel. Because IÂ’m expecting to finish the first draft in January, IÂ’m sending around a few initial inquiries to a couple of contacts in the book publishing industry. Enclosed are the outline and a few sample chapters. My goal is to combine a murder mystery with a true novel in the tradition of Dorothy L. Sayers: in the process of solving the puzzle, the heroine comes to terms with who she is, and gains some direction in life.

The story takes place in the world of magazine publishing, where IÂ’ve worked since the late 80s. ItÂ’s set primarily in Santa Monica, the town I lived in from the age of 12 to 18.

I’ve had a handful of articles published—mostly in consumer magazines—as well as one poem. I also maintain a weblog, and contribute to one of the most highly ranked blogs, Dean’s World (edited by Dean Esmay).

Sincerely,

Joy McCann

P.S. Kill me. Kill me!

I promised someone that I'd get it onto his desk for review on the 16th, so the real letter will go out within, say, a week after that. Unless I'm lucky and get finished off in a terrorist attack. Or the package gets lost in the mail. Or I vanish in the Bermuda Triangle.

Posted by: Attila at 01:16 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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I'm at my writer's group, feeling rather shamefaced because I didn't write anything on either the Icky Yucko Autobiographical Series or the murder mystery. I instead started a short story about a relationship.

"Well," my writing teacher, Bea, remarks, "the dialogue was really good, as usual."

"Yes," chimes in the art-school grad. "You're so good at that."

"But you need to balance it with description," continues Bea. "Right now it's a little unbalanced."

"Maybe it's because you're so good with dialogue," chimes in the education professional. "You could be staying in your comfort zone."

"I'm not so sure," I reply. "I'm not so confident about my dialogue: I suspect everyone sounds like me."

"Oh, no."

So I got that going for me.

* * *

"But what is the relationship with Annie?" our teacher continues.

"She's the sister," reply, sipping on a sparkling lemonade. "Isn't that kind of obvious?"

"I'm not sure how we're supposed to know that, really." Bea is looking at me quizzically, and the room is getting smaller as all eyes turn to me.

"Um. He calls her 'Kiddo.' That's, you know. That's what my brother calls me."

"Well, none of my brothers have ever called me 'Kiddo.'"

"I guess I could, you know. I could clarify that a little bit."

* * *

I'm at home, relatiing my evening to my husband: the agony of being an unbalanced writer of fiction. The ecstasy of being told I write great dialogue. The feedback from the group, who just did not get that the main characters were male lovers, until one of them called the other "Honey." The oddity that one woman actually insisted, even after the word "Honey," that she still thought the guys were straight. After all, she argues, a guy might say that to another guy in an ironic way.

"Well, Forrest wasn't there tonight; he's on vacation." I twist the top off my bottled water and take a swig. "And I think I could have used his help; they wanted me to make the main relationship more obvious."

"In that piece I printed out for you earlier?" Attila the Hub puts a placemark in the book he was trying to read until I came in and strong-armed him into talking about my day.

"Yup. That's the one."

"You know, I saw a little of that story," he remarks.

"You read it?" I don't feel betrayed. On the contrary, I'm delighted.

"The first half or so, as it was coming out of the printer."

"And?" I'm leaning forward, waiting for the verdict.

"I could tell it was a gay relationship on the first page. I mean, what straight guys talk like that about having a good time?"

"Exactly! You're right. None. Um, except my father, of course. He talks like that. But, you know: no other straight guy does."

Posted by: Attila at 03:03 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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. . . as I'm trying to get my "pages" ready for writers' group tomorrow night, and as usual Ye Olde Fiction Project is giving me trouble.

My husband has his group in the morning, and mine is in the evening. So his pages are done.

Somehow I'd like it to be his fault that I'm still working on mine this close to the deadline, but that taxes my creativity almost as badly as the pages themselves do.

Posted by: Attila at 07:37 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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I'm trying not to get any new ideas for fiction until I finish the story I've had on the backburner the longest. OTOH, it never hurts to jot the new notions down, and maybe even outline them a little--as long as I eventually focus on something long enough to get it done.

Tonight I was in a good mood, primarily because I was horribly depressed most of the day and still did the things that needed to be done. I slew the dragons, and that means even more on a day I wanted to crawl back into bed and hide under the covers.

Tonight's idea, born of a sudden feeling of virtue on a bad day: to use the subculture of Beatles tribute bands as a setting for a story. My understanding is that each band has at its disposal a "roster" of people they can call in the area, should an emergency occur: there are Johns, and Pauls, and Georges, and Ringos on the list. That way, if your own Ringo gets sick, you can call another band's Ringo to sit in. In my story, I plan to take it one step further, and imagine my characters actually interacting--partying together. Crashing at each other's homes. Borrowing money. Sleeping with the same women. Three or four tribute bands--all L.A.-based--chockablock full of Johns, Pauls, Georges, and Ringos. All sporting Sgt. Pepper hair.

Naturally, chaos can ensue--if I do this right.

Posted by: Attila at 06:34 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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