Poetry, PoETry, PoeTry
If you write poetry, wish you did, or just like it--don’t miss the 22nd annual Austin International Poetry Festival on April (poetry month) 3-6, 2014.From Thursday through Sunday there will be open mics, workshops, special readings, and a continuous stream of all things poetry. All registrants are given a ten minute time slot to read their own work. (Go to the slam if at all possible!) Fellow attendees, numbering in the hundreds, are from both coasts and across the pond. The cost is $45 or, for students and retirees, $30.
Register before Jan. 15th to submit up to three poems for consideration for the formal anthology, di*verse*city. If one is selected, it will be considered for possible prizes as well. Watch the website- www.aipf.org -for more information.
[Underage? Check the "youth" tab on the site. Poetry doesn’t discriminate.]
Email DFWWW lifetime member Del Cain at del.cain(at)sbcglobal.net with any questions. If you ask them nicely, he might even answer you in a haiku.
Redlights and Rejections
My husband hates red lights. He will take a longer route through lesser-used roads to avoid a traffic signal. Red lights don’t bother me. They only last for thirty seconds, or maybe a minute at busier intersections. Sometimes, they even give me time to check the map, freshen my lipstick, or make a phone call before the light changes.
We need to view rejections like red lights—a temporary stop on our journey to publishing a book. Sometimes, we need to find another way to continue our journey.
When I’ve really got my hopes up, rejection hurts. The DFW Writers’ Workshop claps for rejections because they know that writer has finished a manuscript and had the courage to send it out. And sometimes I celebrate rejections with my favorite dessert, a hot fudge sundae, before I get back to writing the best book I can.
Recently, I just got stopped by the biggest deterrent of all. My publishing company--which had sent me a contract, edited my manuscript, and sent me a copy of my cover—went out of business. Now that’s red light with a capital R. (I had an extra large hot fudge sundae, by the way.)
Did I decide I wasn’t fated to be published? Did I quit writing? No. The next day I examined my options and sent a query letter to the best one.
But I haven’t pinned all my hopes on that one book. As a productive writer, I have several manuscripts that have made the rounds and I’m working on others. In response to a positive rejection by a Harlequin editor who suggested I submit to a different Harlequin line, I’m polishing a trilogy I’ve been working on. I will submit it with a copy of the editors’ positive comments.
And the sequel to my ill-fated novel is about to be critiqued by a published author (a nice benefit offered by the local chapter of my romance writer’s organization). I’ll use that author’s comments to revise my sequel before entering the prestigious Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart Contest. Since I’m not published, I am now eligible for the contest. How’s that for a silver lining?
As I’ve written several novels (that have garnered several rejections), I am also exploring self-publishing, where being able to put out my collection of books in a short time is a decided advantage. Of course, if I go that route, I will hire an editor to help me fine-tune the story and a cover artist to make it look as professional as possible. A good package is very important to help sell a book.
In the end, though, what can rejections teach you? You can get praise for your writing that uplifts your spirits, even though the editor is ultimately rejecting you. Sometimes you receive good feedback about what editors don’t like and then know not to send that type of story to them. If you get a scathing rejection, you may realize how your story needs revising so it will get better results next time.
What else can you gain from rejection? A fighting spirit. Don’t get even, get mad. Show the editors of the publishing world that you can do better, that you are a force to be reckoned with, and that you have what it takes to entertain a reader. So forge ahead and let red light rejections be damned. Nothing can stop a hardworking, determined writer who keeps at it from achieving that dream.
--Carolyn Williamson, DFWWW Member since 1977
photo credit: Thomas Hawk via photopin cc
We need to view rejections like red lights—a temporary stop on our journey to publishing a book. Sometimes, we need to find another way to continue our journey.
When I’ve really got my hopes up, rejection hurts. The DFW Writers’ Workshop claps for rejections because they know that writer has finished a manuscript and had the courage to send it out. And sometimes I celebrate rejections with my favorite dessert, a hot fudge sundae, before I get back to writing the best book I can.
Recently, I just got stopped by the biggest deterrent of all. My publishing company--which had sent me a contract, edited my manuscript, and sent me a copy of my cover—went out of business. Now that’s red light with a capital R. (I had an extra large hot fudge sundae, by the way.)
Did I decide I wasn’t fated to be published? Did I quit writing? No. The next day I examined my options and sent a query letter to the best one.
But I haven’t pinned all my hopes on that one book. As a productive writer, I have several manuscripts that have made the rounds and I’m working on others. In response to a positive rejection by a Harlequin editor who suggested I submit to a different Harlequin line, I’m polishing a trilogy I’ve been working on. I will submit it with a copy of the editors’ positive comments.
And the sequel to my ill-fated novel is about to be critiqued by a published author (a nice benefit offered by the local chapter of my romance writer’s organization). I’ll use that author’s comments to revise my sequel before entering the prestigious Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart Contest. Since I’m not published, I am now eligible for the contest. How’s that for a silver lining?
As I’ve written several novels (that have garnered several rejections), I am also exploring self-publishing, where being able to put out my collection of books in a short time is a decided advantage. Of course, if I go that route, I will hire an editor to help me fine-tune the story and a cover artist to make it look as professional as possible. A good package is very important to help sell a book.
In the end, though, what can rejections teach you? You can get praise for your writing that uplifts your spirits, even though the editor is ultimately rejecting you. Sometimes you receive good feedback about what editors don’t like and then know not to send that type of story to them. If you get a scathing rejection, you may realize how your story needs revising so it will get better results next time.
What else can you gain from rejection? A fighting spirit. Don’t get even, get mad. Show the editors of the publishing world that you can do better, that you are a force to be reckoned with, and that you have what it takes to entertain a reader. So forge ahead and let red light rejections be damned. Nothing can stop a hardworking, determined writer who keeps at it from achieving that dream.
--Carolyn Williamson, DFWWW Member since 1977
photo credit: Thomas Hawk via photopin cc
Lamott in the House
Most writers know Anne Lamott because she wrote one of our most sacred documents, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life
. If you haven’t gotten around to reading it, do. Just perusing a few quotes from the book will convince you that she has something to offer you as a writer, we promise.At any rate, Anne is coming to town to promote her new book, Stitches: A Handbook on Meaning, Hope and Repair
. And though this is not necessarily a writing event, we’re dropping a line about it here because it’s probably (definitely) worth it to go hear her talk and let her sign your old (or new) Bird by Bird copy. All for free.Details below. See you there.
“Popular author Anne Lamott will be speaking at Fort Worth’s Arborlawn United Methodist Church on Thursday, November 14 at 7:00 p.m. The author will be talking about her new book, Stitches. Anne will sign books during a reception following her talk. The event is free and open to the public.” For the flyer, click here.
The Writer's Watchword: Patience
Shortly after graduating from Goucher College’s MFA program in 2010, I was contacted by an agent interested in reading my thesis. This filled me with equal amounts of panic and joy, as I still didn’t feel like a real writer. A few months later he wrote that he loved my voice, but felt that I needed to take the story in a different direction—something that was less about me and more about the people I met. (Yes, this stung. Imagine if you will, dear writers of fiction, what it would be like to hear “we want you to change the main character” and the MC is you!) The insecure part of me wanted to do whatever it took to gain his approval and representation, but the realist in me said “no.”
I am not a journalist. I am a personal storyteller. It’s what I do and I knew in my heart that if I wrote his version, I would fail. I thanked him for the time he’d already invested and told him that I wasn’t the right kind of writer to deliver a journalistic exploration of death. He appreciated my honesty.
Fast forward three years. I turned my thesis into a memoir, Death Becomes Us, and entered it into the Mayborn’s writing competition. Not that I expected it, but I figured if I didn’t win first place with publication from UNT, my plan was to self publish.
On award’s night, it was announced that I’d won second place. When I returned to my table, David Patterson of Foundry Media asked if I would send him my proposal. The following Monday, I did. Thursday, I received a wonderfully flattering email from David that I now have taped to my desk. He got it/me. He understood what I was trying to do and, by golly, he liked it! I felt like Bridget Jones when Mark Darcy says, “I like you just the way you are.”
Isn’t that what we all want both personally and professionally?
So what’s the moral of this story? First, be true to yourself. Realize what your strengths are as a writer and let your anxiety-filled freak flag fly. (Okay, that’s just me.)
Second is patience. Yes, yes, I know. We all want things to happen as quickly as a Twitter post, but sometimes it’s better if we wait and work on our craft.
That’s the third lesson. Even with the proper MFA document in my hand, I probably learned more in my weekly critiques at the DFW Writers’ Workshop. I remember one session quite vividly as it changed my manuscript for the better. A. Lee Martinez said, “You need to decide who this story is about because it’s not working as it is.” Yep, it stung. But he was right.
So, has my world changed now that I have an agent? No, not really. I still can’t eat crayons and write rainbows, but now my morning writing sessions are a little sweeter. When I’m feeling stuck, I look at that email and think, someone got me.
And I have to admit, that’s a pretty cool feeling.
--Pam Skjolsvik, DFWWW Members since 2010
photo credit: WasabiDoobie via photopin cc
Gut it Like a Fish
So, I just ripped the guts out of my first fifty pages. It needed to be done. I'd written them over two years ago and they were nowhere close to the lean, mean, fighting machine they should be. They didn’t really represent what I now have to offer as a writer.
Did it hurt? Sort of. I wasn't as attached to some of it as I once was since I'd put distance and time between the story and me. Honestly, a lot of what I removed was just, "Look, I don't know how to start this, so here is everything you will ever need to know about the main character and six other people whom you will have a whole book to get to know."
And to think, I queried those pages for months before I came to the realization at the DFW Writers' Conference that I wasn’t doing myself any favors by sending out the weakest part of my book.
So I did something that I had never considered before: I redrafted. Blank page, baby. My first fifty pages became twenty-seven. I got the same stuff done, but way less boring.
I'm not a plotter, I'm a pantser. I only knew the end of my novel once I finished it, and that allowed me to ‘fix’ the beginning. I figured out what I needed and what I didn't. (Oh hey, a three paragraph tangent about a college the reader will never see? Yoink!)
I certainly don't think everyone should pick at, revise, and prod their manuscripts over and over again. No, no. Onward and upward. Working on another book and taking the lessons from the previous one is what enabled me to 'fix' my last one.
Sure, I still have to get it to my beta readers. There is also the not-so-small matter of then sending it out to the nice agents who asked for it at the conference. But in the mean time, I'll keep writing my new novel. And then one after that. Who knows? In two years I may look back on my super tight first fifty pages and say, "Eh…it's not that great."
But that's the thing about writing, it evolves with the writer.
--Sally Hamilton, DFWWW member since 2009
Did it hurt? Sort of. I wasn't as attached to some of it as I once was since I'd put distance and time between the story and me. Honestly, a lot of what I removed was just, "Look, I don't know how to start this, so here is everything you will ever need to know about the main character and six other people whom you will have a whole book to get to know."
And to think, I queried those pages for months before I came to the realization at the DFW Writers' Conference that I wasn’t doing myself any favors by sending out the weakest part of my book.
So I did something that I had never considered before: I redrafted. Blank page, baby. My first fifty pages became twenty-seven. I got the same stuff done, but way less boring.
I'm not a plotter, I'm a pantser. I only knew the end of my novel once I finished it, and that allowed me to ‘fix’ the beginning. I figured out what I needed and what I didn't. (Oh hey, a three paragraph tangent about a college the reader will never see? Yoink!)
I certainly don't think everyone should pick at, revise, and prod their manuscripts over and over again. No, no. Onward and upward. Working on another book and taking the lessons from the previous one is what enabled me to 'fix' my last one.
Sure, I still have to get it to my beta readers. There is also the not-so-small matter of then sending it out to the nice agents who asked for it at the conference. But in the mean time, I'll keep writing my new novel. And then one after that. Who knows? In two years I may look back on my super tight first fifty pages and say, "Eh…it's not that great."
But that's the thing about writing, it evolves with the writer.
--Sally Hamilton, DFWWW member since 2009