Alas, so I'm still laptopless (that's sounds dirty) and am typing off my phone. Yay fun times.
Saturday, as I trolled around Twitter following agents and the new Twitter followers I amassed of the last week (New friends yahoo!) I came across #pitchmadness. Holy cow! 20 min. before the deadline I stumbled onto a crazy world that I am going to forever be grateful for. I sent in my pitch with 5 min. to spare (since it had to be written on my phone, fingers crossed laptop is back this week). I thought that would be the end of it. Boy was I wrong.
First, let me start off by saying this: those of you who know me know I don't have much support in my writing at home. Hubs listens to the first 5 seconds before tuning me out. My brother bought me a novel writing for dummies book with the words "you're failing, thought this would help." Any beta readers, as awesome as they have been, have offered no real critiques. For the last few years I've felt completely alone in writing. Alone and failing miserably.
Maybe not totally alone.
I called up an editor one day and asked some questions. She and I had formed a bit of a relationship. I emailed her, she'd give me answers and ask questions in return. I sent her a couple of queries. The first she was extremely kind. The second made me question my decisions to write. It had nothing to do with my writing at all, she told me to continue perusing an agent, but her email left me feeling empty and confused.
I stopped writing.
Grandma called me earlier this week. If you don't know already, Grandma is living vicariously through me as I seek to get published. She called and asked how the agent search was going. In my head I thought "Grandma I quit. I'm a horrible writer and I'll never get published." Instead I found myself saying, "Grandma I got rejected, but there are tons of editors and agents out there." Say what?
So Saturday night, after my conversation with Grandma, I thought why. Why did I say that? I'd clearly told myself I was done though I have another YA paranormal about people who crush bones to keep demons from bodies and a NA modern retelling of swan lake floating around in my head. She wouldn't have thought less of me if I quit. She did. So why did I tell her I would keep going? I began searching Twitter and the web for answers and came across pitch madness.
What is pitch madness you ask? Whoa ho it's a jolly good time where you pitch your ms in 35 words and send in 250 of the first words of your ms. It goes through a couple rounds of slush readers (why are they called slush readers? It makes me want to go down to circle k and buy a slushie) who constantly leave vague comments on Twitter about the submissions and 60 go on to an agent round where magical things could happen.
I sent In my pitch. I've followed #pitchmadness and even commented. A few of the slush readers comments even sounded like mine (fingers crossed), but something else happened. I started talking to other authors. I'm not alone in this whole writing thing. Agents aren't just rejecting me. I'm not the only one searching fruitlessly for a CP.
And I found one. A fellow author who was looking for a CP as well. We clicked, almost typing along the same lines. We're having the same agent/beta issues. I'm not the only one in the world! I've found someone to talk to.
If nothing comes out of pitch madness this first time for me, it's ok. I've made new friends who think the way I do. I've discovered writing contests that I wouldn't have otherwise found in Small Town, USA. I even found an opportunity to query Suzie Townsend and get an actual critique from her regardless of whether she likes the ms or not. The Pitch Madness party is Sept 14 as well, so I have a few more options than I began with when I told Grandma my white lie. I will continue on learning and growing.
And I'll be trolling #pitchmadness driving myself crazy while finishing my new ms and for the first time in months I'm not nervous about my writing. I'm just going to get better.