A Querying I will Go!

IMG_5208It’s been a wild spring with unpredictable weather and plenty of changes to adapt into my life. As a family with young kids, the only thing I can depend on from day to day is unpredictability.  My youngest has developed a fascination with Minecraft and loves to play on the worlds he is creating with someone else. I’ll admit, I think it’s really fun to play with him as well, but every hour spent playing video games is an hour not spent doing anything that will help me reach my goals.

That said, perhaps the biggest news is that I’m starting to query out my epic fantasy novel. I didn’t image there would be this much stress associated with waiting for publishers and agents to give me their approval, or rejection, or no response at all. I’ve been at it since December but have only started sending out multiple queries at a time this last month.

The plan for the next few months is to always have five queries out at a time and to participate in whatever Twitter pitch contests drift my way. While this isn’t super aggressive, it doesn’t take over my life either.

[For those scratching their heads – a query is simply a formal letter sent to publishers and literary agents that tells about the book and about the author. A pitch is a short sentence that sums up the book. Both are mind-numbingly hard to create.]

On the short story front, I have two pieces that have been accepted and are awaiting scheduling with the publisher. I will most definitely be posting as soon as I have more info. One is a retelling of classic Vietnamese folklore, the  Starfruit Tree and is slated for an anthology. The other, The Skull Collector, is best described as a cross between Moana and the Hunger Games and will be in a magazine.

Other news, I was asked to judge a short story contest for the University of Utah Valley’s Warp and Weave speculative fiction literary magazine. While I’ve judged stories before, it’s never been for anything more than my writing group. All the stories were amazing so it was a true challenge to pick those that rose above the rest.

There’s always a ton of fun/agonizing work to do. While waiting for query responses from agents and editors I have a bundle of great ideas I’d like to work up into publishable short stories and a draft of the sequel novel to create. I also have a handful of presentations to prepare for upcoming conferences, for more info click here.

Here’s to a great Spring!

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Writing Update February 2015

51-BE6kx1PLThe last six months have been a strange mix of writing for fun and writing that feels like work.  I sold my first piece of short fiction BREATH, which led to several weeks spent in working with a professional editor.  By the way, if you ever want to know the truth about what your writing weaknesses are, a good editor will have no problem in telling you.

With any publication there comes marketing, which for me included conducting several interviews and also being interviewed.  It also involved creating author accounts on Amazon and Goodreads.  As fun at it is, all these things take up valuable time.

MechanizedMasterpiecesThe success of my first story kicked off a crazy desire to try again, so I spent several weeks writing and polishing a steampunk story to submit. Having never written steampunk before, this was a huge learning experience for me.  I had fun writing it, but in the end it was rejected.  Disheartening?  Yes. Life shaking? No. I know where I went wrong, and now I have a story that with a bit more work, I can brush it and try again.

Fast forward to the last few weeks, I’ve decided to enter the first chapter of my book-in-progress in the LDStorymakers Writing Conference first chapter contest. I swear I’ve rewritten this opening chapter at least five times.  This time, I finally feel like I have the right characterisations and the right tone.  Hopefully the judges will agree.

Next on the docket – a contest entry for one of my writing chapters. I have the choice of short story, flash fiction, first chapter, or poetry.  The due date is next week, so I better get hopping!

Want to read what I’ve been working on? Check out these links:

 

The Man in the Cupboard, pt. 26

Here we have come to the end of our story, Mike has found what he was looking for in the talented and charming Maybelle and now must bring her back to his home.

To read the previous episode, click here!

To start at the beginning, click here!

fiction friday bannerAfter leaving Auntie Marie’s burrow, Mike and Maybelle made their way down the grassy tunnel that bordered the hedgerow. Maybelle walked with a carefree lightness that Mike hadn’t seen during his stay at Willow keep; it made him smile. Any doubts he had about taking her from her home vanished the further they traveled away from that horrid place.

Her happiness took the edge off of Mike’s unease, but he was still wary. Dangers lurked along the way, Tilly had warned him of the snake that hunted along the hedge tunnel, and then there were those horrid cats that prowled the walkways. Even as he thought about it he felt the hair on his neck stand on end. They weren’t alone in the hedge, and he knew it.

Maybelle stopped and breathed in the fresh fall air. “You’ve been rather quiet, is everything alright?”

Mike leaned on his cane and glanced behind them once again, unable to shake the feeling of being watched. “It’s nothing, really. Just eager to get home I suppose.”

“You would tell me if there were something wrong, wouldn’t you?”

“If it were worth mentioning, yes.” He kept his eyes down and drew a lazy circle with his foot over the packed soil, trying his best to look more at ease.

Maybelle set her hands on her hips. “Listen, I know we haven’t known each other very long and I have a lot to learn about you, just as you have much to learn about me. We are both too old to be playing games with each other like this. I need you to be honest with me. I can’t stand it when people try to hide things, I always find out.  Now out with it.” She spoke with sternness, but managed to sound kind as she did.

Mike stammered, his mouth working soundlessly before he could find what he wanted to say. “When I came this way before I was warned of –”

“Wait.” She stopped him with a hand, her head tilted toward the brush to their left. “Do you hear that?”

Mike froze and strained his ears for sounds of danger, specifically of the rustle of scale against dry leaf. He couldn’t make out anything unusual, but considering the possibility made his heart speed up and his mouth dry. “Hear what?”

She stepped toward the brush, her motions silent and concise. “Someone is crying.”

Mike peered into the brush. It was hard to make out anything in the dappled shadows until he caught a hint of red deep inside the hedge. Then he understood. “Tilly? Is that you?”

“Go away,” squeaked the tiny mouse from her hiding place.

“I promised to come back this way, I never forget a promise. I want you to meet Maybelle.” He climbed up closer.

A tiny nose peeked around the branch, followed by two curious eyes. “I don’t want to talk to you Mike Finnigan. You best go on home.” She sniffed again and dabbed at her face with her handkerchief.

“What’s happened, what’s wrong?”

“It’s not important.”

“Of course it’s important, it’s enough to make you sad so it must be.”

Maybelle placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s because of me. I think dear Tilly was hoping that you would return empty handed,” she whispered.

Mike’s eyes widened, the realization dawning on him. He didn’t want to admit Tilly’s fondness for him right away, he had heard saying things like that upset some women. “Why would you assume that?”

“I think I have some understanding of how another woman’s heart works.” She winked and then climbed up into the branches. Within minutes she had coaxed the field mouse down into the opening.

Tilly dabbed at her eyes again and gave Maybelle a nod before turning toward Mike. “She’s right, I was upset that you found someone. I know that’s silly but it’s true.”

Mike shuffled his feet, unsure if it would be appropriate to pull her into a hug.  She looked as if she needed one, but in light of the situation he thought better of it and rested his hands over the top of his cane instead. “No, love is never silly. The heart sometimes makes choices that the mind cannot unmake.  It must learn the hard way. I’m sorry that I caused you pain. You will always be a dear friend.”

Without warning, Tilly turned and wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his chest. Mike pulled his arms free, letting his cane fall to the ground, and returned the embrace. When she had her fill she stepped back and straightened her scarf. “I’m glad to have known you Mike, be sure to come visit if you ever come this way again.”

“I promise, and you know I will keep it,” Mike said as he leaned over and retrieved his cane.

“You best be going, I’m sure you are anxious to get home.”

After Mike and Maybelle bid Tilly their farewells they continued on their journey through the grass-lined tunnel. They walked in an uncomfortable silence for quite some time. Mike felt like he needed to apologize, but wasn’t sure what for and didn’t want to appear foolish. In the end it was Maybelle who spoke first.

“Will we be meeting any more of your friends on the way?” she asked with a bemused smirk.

“No, no, I assure you. That’s it.”

Maybelle laughed out loud, a musical wonderful sound, and Mike knew all was right between them again. They left the park and climbed the hill to the yellow house with blush colored roses out front.

“This is home” Mike announced with a smile and his arms open wide. “Do you like it?”

Maybelle’s hands went to her mouth. “Oh, Mike – it’s beautiful!” She walked to a low hanging rose blossom and inhaled deeply before turning to him once more. “Haven’t you forgotten something?”

Mike racked his brain. What could he have forgotten? He had gotten them safely back to his home. What could he have missed? Maybelle twiddled her fingers, and made an act of being coy. He had to figure it out. Then, as if struck by lightning, he knew.

He knelt down on one knee before her. “Maybelle, will you marry me?”

She giggled and held out her hand, which he covered with kisses. “Of course.”

***

That’s the end of Mike Finnegan and his adventure.  Thanks for reading! I realize that this story is super flawed and I apologize that the beginning and the ending don’t match at all.  I think Mike lost his accent about 5 episodes in, whoops.  As my first serial piece I learned a ton about what it takes to write serial fiction and just how many wrong turns I made. This is all in the name of learning something new, so even it it didn’t turn out as well as I would have liked it was worth the time to at least try.

Feel free to give me a thorough verbal thrashing in the comments!

 

 

 

 

The Man in the Cupboard, pt. 24

We last left Mike and Maybelle trapped in the engineering workshop with the enraged Queen Caliee at the doors. The queen is determined to not let Maybelle leave the keep and will stop at nothing to reach her goals.

To read the previous episode, click here!

To start at the beginning of the story, click here!

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Maybelle grabbed Mike by the hand and pulled him toward the back of the workshop which was lined from the floor to the ceiling with shelves filled with thousands of odds and ends.

“It will take her a while to breach the door, even with the key you must know how to align the three levers before the gears will spin.  I showed her how ages ago, with luck she won’t remember right away.” She lifted a thimble and frowned.

“Why would show her that?”

“She is the queen Mike. You don’t say no when your queen asks you for anything.”

“Well, I suppose that’s fair.”

Maybelle ducked under one of the lower shelves and shifted several of the items there. “There’s a hidden lever here somewhere, but it’s tricky to find.” She ducked into the next shelf and pointed Mike toward another. “Try in there, you’ll know it when you see it.”

Mike leaned into the shelf and instantly sneezed at the thick layer of dust sending a cloud into the air around his head.  The pounding at the door had quieted and was replaced with the sounds of metal on wood.  Mike could only assume that the queen had already found the key and had moved to figuring out the combination lock.

“Hurry Mike, if I know her at all its to know that she’s quick.  If she sees the tunnel, our escape will be useless.”

Mike nodded and searched faster.  He shifted a pile of bottle caps and looked behind a snail shell but found nothing. At the door the gears engaged and begin to turn. There were only seconds left before the queen and her guards burst through.

“Got it!” Maybelle gave a quiet cheer as she darted inside.

Mike dove into the inky blackness of the tunnel behind her and tugged the secret door shut just as the workshop door flew open. Shouts erupted along with the crash of chairs being toppled. Someone screamed.

Maybelle pushed at Mike in the narrow passage. He was reluctant to leave anyone to be hurt. “What about them? Will they be alright?

“My friends are strong, they can take care of themselves.  Caliee might be tough at times but she’s no monster. They’ll be alright.”

Mike allowed Maybelle to guide him along the dark narrow tunnel. He couldn’t help but worry what was happening beyond the secret tunnel entrance. Only being able to hear the shouts and crashes made it worse. His imagination kept running to the worst possible outcome. In a way he was glad for the darkness, it made him seem braver for Maybelle’s sake than he was.

The tunnel seemed to stretch on forever.  Darkness robbed Mike of any sense of time and Maybelle stayed quiet as they hurried along. The sounds of struggle grew quieter as they continued to move further away from the workshop and quite possible from the great tree itself.

At last ahead there was a shaft of bright light piercing the darkness. Maybelle turned back to Mike, lines of worry etched her face. “We’ve made it to the end.  Let’s pray that there aren’t any other obstacles.  The sooner we get away from here the better.”

In the dim light of the tunnel Mike stopped Maybelle. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s not too late to turn back.”

She placed her hands in his. “Listen. I made my decision back when we spent the night talking up on the balcony.  I’ve felt something with you that I thought was impossible for my heart to feel again.  I can’t live in that place anymore and now I have defied the queen.  She won’t forgive me for that, even if it is for a good cause.  She won’t understand. I don’t think she can.”

She was so lovely, even with streaks of dirt across her face. Hearing her determination to be with him sparked within him a desperate need to kiss her. She felt it as well, her eyes closed halfway and she leaned forward.

Before their lips could touch there was a shout from the outside of the tunnel.

“How did she find us? I thought no one knew of this place.”

“It’s not her.” Maybelle’s face lightened into a smile and she scrambled up the steep dirt passage and out into the light. Mike followed close behind, squinting in the harsh sunlight.

Outside in a small clearing in the brush Maybelle was hugging one of the women he recognized from the workshop. They separated when Mike cleared his throat.

“Mike, this is Rachelle, she’s my second in command. She’s aided us in our escape.”

The other woman nodded before turning back to Maybelle.

“The other engineers are leading her to one dead-end after another. They sent me to tell you to stay here.  Ben the bluejay will come soon and take you away from here. She won’t be able to follow you, even if she finds the passage or gets her hands on Ben you’ll be safe. The poor bird can’t remember one day to the next.” She glanced around nervously. “I must go before I am missed.”

The two women hugged again as the sound of flapping filled the clearing. Rachelle ran back into the cover of the brush as the bluebird landed.

The bird gave a happy chirp when he spotted Mike. “Why hello talking candy!  Do you have a treat for me today?”

“I sure do Ben, but you’ll need to take me somewhere to get it.”

Without another word Ben grasped them both and took off into the air.  Mike’s stomach lurched and twisted to be up high again but to his surprise he wasn’t half as scared as he’d been before.  In Ben’s other claw Maybelle spread her arms wide like she was a bird herself.  She smiled and laughed as Ben climbed higher into the sky.

To be continued…

***

Deadlines…

One of the attractive perks of being a writer is that for the most part you get to set your own hours and create your own working environment.  When you are not under contract you also decide when your deadlines are.  The only deadlines I have are the ones that I have imposed upon myself and missing them usually only means a loss of productivity.

Currently I have a deadline to submit a fiction piece to an anthology.  They close the submission window at the end of the month and will accept nothing outside of that window. The piece I’m working on is a thirty page fantasy that I’ve submitted before without success.   When I reread the story for this anthology I realized that it had several fundamental weaknesses that had to be fixed.

The problem is, when I revise something and am not careful I will end up rewriting the whole thing.  This not only takes huge amounts of time but it also requires more editing passes to correct any new passages that I end up writing.  I had hoped to have the revisions done by today so that I could have a friend give it a test read, but I still have 18 pages to go.

This might have been easier had I not gone on a family camping trip this weekend. I had envisioned sitting back with my tablet as the kids played around the campsite whittling away at this story and having plenty of time to get it finished, but that wasn’t the case. Every time I sat down a family member would come join me that wanted to talk. In the spirit of niceness I obliged.

Now I’m starting to sweat a little.  I’d love to have this piece published and to have some real writing credentials under my belt, but I can’t submit something that’s not ready either.

With luck I’ll find a few large chunks of extra time today to finish it!

photo credit: Stuck in Customs via photopin cc

photo credit: Stuck in Customs via photopin cc

The Man in the Cupboard, pt. 20

In the last episode, Mike managed to spend a few minutes with Maybelle the head of the engineering department at Willow keep, and was bold enough to tell her how he felt about her.  The meeting ended with Mike hoping for more but unsure about if Maybelle was interested or was only being kind. He is pulled away to have personal visits with the other women he had chosen from the earlier interviews.

To read the previous episode, click here!

To start from the beginning, click here!

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High up in the willow tree the she tinkers had built a sturdy platform amid the swaying branches.  From that height Mike could see clear across the park and in the distance make out the top edge of the crabapple tree. He shifted his chair closer to the center of the platform, the thought of being that high again made him feel decidedly ill.  He hadn’t quite recovered from his experience with Ben the crazy blue jay.  The current she tinker, Melissa, leaned against the rail that circled the platform.  Her earthy brown hair twisted in the breeze behind her and the subdued green dress hugged her legs.

He had chosen her because she hadn’t tried to impress him with her looks, or wow him with her skills.  She had simply come to the meeting and seemed more interested in learning about him beyond the trivial questions that the other she tinkers had asked.  Now, alone, that shyness that he imagined before had disappeared.

In the beginning of their meeting she had sat close to him.  Her sea blue eyes twinkled with curiosity as they spoke.  She had drifted further and further away as the meeting continued.

“You mean to say there aren’t any other tinkers where you live?  Don’t you get bored?” She traced a finger along the top of the rail and watched the swaying leaves.

Mike couldn’t blame her for losing interest. His own thoughts kept returning to Maybelle and what he would need to do to capture her interest. He wanted to impress her, wanted to make himself worthy of her attentions.

Melissa turned back to face him when he didn’t answer her question right away. He shifted in the chair and tugged at the cuff of his shirt sleeve. “It’s never boring, there are always plenty of things to do in that old house. There’s a terrific garden that could use the care of a she tinker.” He tugged at the other cuff. “I didn’t leave because I was bored, I left because I wanted to find someone to share my life with.”

“I don’t think you realize how much you are asking. Here at the keep I have friends that I can talk to.  I have a job that I like doing.  I’m fed, protected, and cared for.  I don’t know if I’m ready to leave all that and go out into the world alone.”

Mike couldn’t help but wonder if Maybelle would feel the same.  It was true that he couldn’t offer her what she had here at the keep, but he could offer her the one thing that she didn’t have, love and a family.

He stood and reached a hand toward Melissa. “You’re right, I can’t offer you those things, and they are important to you.” He took her hand and held it between his. “I think we both know that you’d be happier if you stayed here.  Thank you for your time.”

Melissa smiled and Mike tried not to read too much into the relief that he saw in her face. He couldn’t help but wonder if there were other things about him that turned her away as well.  He could feed, care, and protect her at the yellow house, and she would have plenty of work to keep her busy.  He couldn’t change the way he looked or how he spoke.

The meetings continued for several more hours and after each one Mike found himself growing more and more depressed.  He couldn’t find that connection he sought with any of the women.  Most were young and too naïve to understand what he was asking of them. They would eagerly agree with everything he said with wide eyes and simpering smiles. It would be wrong to choose any of them unless he knew with certainty that they had thought through what leaving the keep meant.

As he waited for yet another woman to climb the stairs he admired the handiwork of the woven willow railing.  Larger boughs intertwined with smaller switches giving it the look of an elaborate wicker basket. It made him think of Maybelle once again and her exquisite hands, her delicate features.  He imagined her finding happiness within the walls of the yellow house and bringing her beauty and talent to his life.  For a moment a burst of joy filled him, like sun through clouds.

That joy fled at the sound of footsteps.  He dreaded spending another moment with yet another woman.  They would find something wrong with him or he them and he couldn’t take one more rejection.  He was about to tell them that he had had enough for one day when Maybelle appeared at the top of the stairs.

He stood and straightened his shirt again. The sight of her twisted his tongue into a knot. “I thought you were busy,” he stammered.

“I needed a break.” She crossed the platform and rested her arms on the railing. “Have you found true love yet?”

“Hardly. These women are all lovely and talented, but they all lack one thing.” He joined her at the railing, even though the height made his heart leap into his throat. “None of them are you.”

She studied her hands. “You realize I know nothing about you, nor you I.”

“Perhaps it’s time to remedy that.”

“Perhaps…”

***

To be continued…

To read the next episode, click here.

The Man in the Cupboard, pt. 18

In the previous episode it was decided that all women of Willow keep must have a chance to meet Mike so that everyone would have a fair chance. Now he is stuck playing the Tinker version of “The Bachelor” and Mike doesn’t like it one bit.

To read the previous episode, click here!

To start from the beginning, click here!

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The meetings ran through the morning, ten eligible women would be led into the room and he would have ten minutes to talk to them.  They looked as if they had spent hours perfecting their hair in elaborate braids and curls. The effect made Mike think of ropes and gears.  One woman even went as far to fashion her hair until it resembled a strange tree growing from the top of her head.

None of it impressed him, however.  In fact, it seemed that the women who tried the hardest to look their best, had the most elaborate clothing and hair, where the ones who annoyed him the most. If anything they made him think that they were trying to hide things from him.

After a dutiful knock on the door, the current gathering of women stood and left while yet another bustled in. Mike folded a yawn into his elbow, being careful not to offend this new batch of hopefuls. Only three of them placed plates of food before him this time, to his relief. He had sampled so much food over the course of the morning; tarts, breads, nut candies, and more, that he couldn’t bear the thought of eating another bite. He did anyway.

“Please Mike, we want to know more about you, tell us about yourself,” said a younger she tinker who was sitting so far on the edge of her seat that Mike imagined her slipping off. The thought made him smile. She wore her white blond hair in a wave over one shoulder woven with hundreds of tiny glittery beads.

A chorus of agreement spouted from the other women, each trying desperately to seem the perfect and ideal match. He recited the same information that he had shared seventeen times already, embellishing the details a touch here and there to keep things interesting. They all responded with eager nods and demure giggles, and although they were all interesting they were not her.

He had hoped that he would find Mistress Maybelle among all the different faces, after spending so long admiring her intricate craftsmanship he felt he knew her already.  They shared the same intense fascination with creating and crafting ingenious devices. And yet group after group came and went and she did not come.

After the last group came and went Mike’s head was a sea of faces and names. Only a handful interested him enough to learn more about. He jotted those names on a list, not trusting himself to remember. As he stood to leave Queen Caliee entered, shutting the door behind her.

“Well, Mike Finnegan, what have you to say for yourself?” she asked as she settled into one of the seats facing his.

Mike bowed and then sat back down. “You are blessed with an amazing amount of talent here, I’m flattered that these impressive women would want anything to do with me.”

“Enough with the humility Mike, tell me the truth. What do you think?”

“It’s hard to get an honest impression of anyone when they are trying so hard to stand out. I had no idea that hair could do all that.”

Queen Caliee smiled and adjusted her dress. “There has to be one or two that caught your interest.”

Mike handed her his list.

“Only eight out of everyone, interesting.” After glancing over the names with a nod she folded the paper and slipped it into a hidden pocket. “I will personally tell these women of your interest and arrange more personal meetings for you. Until then you are free to explore. Is there anything else you need?”

This was Mikes chance, and he wasn’t going to waste it. “Yes, I’ve wanted to talk to someone in engineering, I have some questions that I hope they can answer.”

“Of course, Sali here will lead you there.” She motioned to one of the women standing outside the door who blushed and curtsied. He recognized her from one of the earlier groups even though she had changed back into uniform and wore a simple braid down her back.

She led the way without speaking, although she kept sneaking sidelong glances that made him think she wanted to ask how the morning went and more specifically, if he had chosen her. The silence hung heavy between them although wherever they went a trail of whispers followed from those they passed along the way.

The door leading to the engineering shop rose higher than the other doors and was a complex array of gears and wheels more complicated and beautiful than the others, had Mike been on his own he would have stopped to admire it. Sali turned the central knob and gave the door a gentle push. The gears spun to life and the door swung forward opening into a room that Mike could only dream of.   Mistress Maybelle perched on a tall stool in front of a workbench with a magnifying glass in hand.

Mike cleared his throat.

Maybelle didn’t look up. “I thought I made it clear that there are to be no visitors here, only my staff.”

“Even if it’s a special visitor?” Mike asked, fumbling for the right words.

She looked up and studied him as she would an interesting cog or spring before turning back to the table. “Weren’t the other hundreds of women enough for you?”

“It’s not that.” He shuffled his feet, unsure how to continue. “I am impressed by your work, I was hoping to talk to you about it.”

“Is that so? Well then, you’d better have a seat and promise not to touch anything.  I’ll be with you in a moment. Sali, you may go now.”

 

The other woman muttered a thank you and left, leaving the two of them alone.

“This is a remarkable place you have here.”

“Don’t talk to me, I’m busy.” She said without turning her head.

“Sorry.” Mike whispered. He had hoped to have a much more welcoming reception, but as it is with anything he was willing to do whatever was needed to get to know Maybelle better.

To be continued…

***

To read the next episode, click here!