Pitch Contest

My pitch was selected by WriteonCon as part of their Luck o’ the Irish Pitch Fest. I’m thrilled and scared to be judged, but you can make it better. The more feedback I get the better my chances of winning several cool writerly prizes. Please, please. please, stop by my link- read my pitch ENJOY IT! and leave feedback (of course I prefer positive, but whatever). The winner will be decided by the number of comments linked to their pitch.

Writers participating are not able to reply or comment, but I will be reading everything I get. Your input is vital. I need some positive energy assistance with WHAT DEATH HAS TOUCHED. Click on the link and take a look around- read other pitches- get excited about al the potential books. Thanks for the support!!!http://writeoncon.com/forum/showthread.php?11233-Glick-4-WHAT-DEATH-HAS-TOUCHED

Hysteria

Monday, I got to chat a bit with Megan Miranda at a Women’s National Book Association meet the author event. I invited Megan to the event, I know I’m lucky like that, because ever since our brief meeting at SCBWI Carolina’s conference I knew I liked her and after reading her book Fracture,  I knew I loved her writing. And last night I stayed up way past my bedtime to finish reading Hysteria. 
Then I felt guilty this morning.

I thoroughly enjoyed the book, I loved the plot, writing, and the suspense….what I felt guilty about is reading the book in three days. I’ve talked with Megan about her writing journey, and the revisions and rewrites it took to get Hysteria and Fracture complete. And I thought I ought to savor the words it took so long to write instead of devour them. I think about the effort I’m exerting now in this latest revision to my book, trying to take it from good to professional, and how I had to turn the inner editor on and let her go hog-wild telling me to change-up the pattern of my natural writing voice, where to add the emotion that is bottled up inside me about each character and place it on the page so readers can love them as much as I do.

I judge myself for the length of time it takes me to do this. Yesterday I revised seven pages, it took all day to do it and I’m about to reread them to see if I like any of what I did or not. Writing is serious work. And that’s why I felt so guilty about reading Megan’s work so quickly, but when it’s that entertaining and suspenseful, there is no putting a good book down. Hope you stop by a local bookstore or click to buy and enjoy them too. You won’t be sorry!

Go here find out more about Megan Miranda 

Waiting

I vaguely remember dating and the anxiety over waiting for a phone call after the first date. If the date was good, I’d fixate on how the first kiss was. I’d remember all the sensory sensations of being near him, how his clothes fit his body, his smell, the taste of his mouth, how swollen my lips were after kissing him, how my skin was electrified by a new touch, and then I would wonder, was it the same for him?

Would he call in 3 days or one week? I dated in LA so all bets were off regarding dating callback etiquette. Beautiful girls were everywhere models and actresses literally lined the streets, I was neither. I wasn’t so much into playing games. If I liked someone I liked them a bit too much at first. I was the nicest version of myself. I could take nearly three months for the real me, the moody, ever so slightly bitchy girl to emerge. The one who didn’t want to pamper the new guy. The one who was like, seriously you’re boring me- let’s do something fun. I feel the same anxiety now, as I impatiently wait to hear back from a literary agent.

I’m here now, at my desk thinking of all the busy work I can do to keep my mind off an agent calling, emailing, texting, twittering, anything asking me for more pages, and wanting to represent me. I’m not good at this part. I should keep writing and revising. I should dig in to book 2. Instead, I think about how:

1. I need to sort out my taxes.
2. I need to go food shopping.
3. I need to get my hair colored.
4. I’d love a mani.
5. I need to clear the clutter off my desk.
6. It’s nearly my birthday and I am freaked out about turning 44.
7. Gray it is outside.

All these things are weak distractions. I’ve got to refocus.  Insert sound of my nails strumming the wood on my desk and the image of me biting the inside of my right lower lip.  I can do this. It will happen. Yes I can.

feathers

Black feathers play a huge role in my young adult novel Life-Like. They are a reader’s tip-off that the person in front of Liv is an angel. Too bad for Liv, she can’t see they are angels/guides and ignores their attempts to help free her from limbo. One of my favorite moments is when Liv notices Mary’s tattoo.

excerpt: ”I noticed a tattoo on the inside of her wrist. It was a small, black feather. Her vein was the quill.”

I think I want this tattoo for myself. The feather represents many things for me:

1. My book

2. My miscarriages

3. My belief in a higher power

I’ve been drawing feathers on my body this week in pen, trying to see if I can find the right place for it. I really want a vein to be the quill, it is such a cool idea. The only other place I have prominent veins is on my shoulder and the inside of my elbow. And I’m not tattooing there, too visible. I toyed with the idea of placing it inside my pelvic bone, so it would arc over it, but that tattoo would be too big. I’m also going to sketch it above my girly bit on a smooth patch of skin, as an homage to the babies I’ve lost to miscarriage. But I don’t think that’s where the feather wants to go.

Now, I’d like to quote my mother when I say, “Can’t you just draw a picture of it and hang it on the wall?” I’m sure my dad feels the same way too. The simple answer is I could, but it wouldn’t be the same. I want a scar to show my pain, my attempts at healing, and I want it as a symbol of my work.

In my mind the feather tattoo is black and gray on Mary. The line work is fine and the feather looks as if a breeze is blowing through it making the downy bottom part of the feather fan. On me there has to be some color, a hint of blue.  I wish I could sketch, I ‘d draw what I see. I’ve looked on-line and seen some cool tatts, a feather with birds emerging from the top, which totally fits in with Life-Like, but does not suit me.

I found these, they’re not quite it, but you get the idea. I don’t know why I’m on this kick. Maybe it is because I am in limbo, searching for an agent and unable to move ahead until I find my match.

Rookie error

I think I may have made a fatal rookie error in my query.

In my query, I quote an agent who read the first twenty pages of my book (an older draft, including pages I have rewritten, updated and made better)and liked the mother daughter relationship and thought my book was marketable. I use that quote in my query. The agent feedback was part of a Society of Children’s Writers and Illustrators, SCBWI, critique I paid for. The agent did not ask to read the rest of my book.

By including this quote am I shooting myself in the foot? Am I announcing to perspective agents, hey this person liked the relationship but not enough to keep the book away from you. You should pass on it too or you look like a loser who is taking on second best! 

Or am I over reacting? Please advise.

bad dreams and querying

My young adult novel, Life-Like has a life of its own in the world now. It sits patiently waiting in query mailboxes across the country and across the pond. All my years of writing, all my dreams, are in the hands of strangers waiting to be judged. I wrote the best book I could. Some agents will pass, okay, most may, but I am in search of my agent. The one who gets and loves the story. In the meantime, the next story I want to write is growing in my mind, which is a good thing. But I’m having terrible nightmares too.

As some of my followers know I suffer from secondary infertility. We struggled for three years to have a second child. We stopped trying a little over one year ago. Some days I’m better about that loss than others. But what I’m not okay with is having baby dreams. I used to dream about the same baby all the time. In most of the dreams, he is a toe headed little boy, that runs around, playing with the three of us completing our family.

Another vivid dream I had,  was me sitting in my bed, cradling a newborn, feeding him a bottle when my mom walks in and smiles. I turn to her and say, “And I was worried.” As if all the years of stress over having a second child were ridiculous. In that dream, I believe my failure to keep a pregnancy should never have haunted me, made me feel less than, broken, hollow, or defeated. Of course I had my son. It was always meant to be.

I can tell you dreams like that crush me. And it’s been a long while since that little boy has appeared to me. But he’s back. If I had any ability to sketch, I’d show you his cherub face and full pouty baby lips.  And if I could share how sweet he is, how loving his soul feels I would do that too. In the past two weeks I’ve dreamed about babies at least three times. Twice I saw that little boy. It was a bittersweet reunion.

The third dream was more like a nightmare. I was in labor (‘nough said) and I gave birth to a healthy baby – and then more labor came and I gave birth to a second baby. The second was much bigger than the first, and more robust. I held both and marveled at the differences. Then my mom came in and looked at me and the babies and told me I had to give one up. I was devastated.

Next thing I knew, my 4-year-old little girl was tapping my shoulder and woke me up. It was a shocking transition from dream world to reality and the horror of the choice I had to make clung to me all day. clearly it still affects me.  Now I hate it when people tell me my book is my baby. The only thing my infertility and writing have in common is the anxiety they both can cause.

So, what’s a girl to do? I have no idea. I do know I’ll keep writing and I will most likely keep dreaming of babies. But I think I’ll go to bed and pray for sweet dreams and good news. Fingers crossed for both.

One week ago tomorrow, I sent my first query and submission to an agent.  Want to know what I’ve been doing since then? Recuperating. Seriously, I have. Once I committed to releasing LIFE-LIKE into the inbox narcolepsy took control. I could barely keep my eyes open an hour after.

I have similar fits of sleepiness when I write scenes that challenge me. I almost always lay down in bed, the Sand Man busy dumping bushels of narcoleptic toxins over me. I always lay down with a pen and notebook by my side, knowing my subconscious will do wonders and help me. I nearly always have a breakthrough as sleep attempts to overtake me. I scribble notes across the blank sketchbook page and trust there will be something to work with when I wake up later.

But this is different. This is me with no control. It’s back to that taste and timing thing I mentioned a few weeks ago. Man, was that easier to say when years of work were still safe and sound, in my computer and under my control.

I know I should get cracking on the next book. I know what I’m going to write about. I even have a bit of an outline. But I can’t do it. I don’t know if I’m waiting for my first no to kick-start me. I hope not. I pray for a yes, but understand the statistical rarity. How many writers are repped by the first agent they query? Anyone want to chime in there?

I’ve built a spreadsheet. I pulled out my film producer hat and created order for my querying process. The header includes: date submitted, agent name, email, agent preferences, authors the agent reps, submission guidelines, and the name of a person I know who knows them (if they gave me approval to use their name). I see if they represent something a little too close to mine, and make sure I don’t query those who wouldn’t like my style or high concept.

I try to remember, during the SCBWI Carolina’s conference September 28-30 2012, Susan Chung,  editor at Tor Books, would have kept reading my book after hearing the 200 words read aloud. And agent Anna Olswanger, Liza Dawson Associates said, “The  writing flows and the dialogue is snappy. the high school setting is believable, as are the characters, and I ike Liv’s moment of vulnerability when Billy says, “I’m not with her”…” Ms. Olswanger went on to say,” I think this will be marketable. It has a believable teen setting with ghost story and romance, and it shows a girl and her mother who love each other, which is refreshing in YA literature.” That feedback is valuable.

I dont’ think it’s right to tell you who I submitted to. I will once the three week exclusive they requested is over. I respect them and honestly don’t want to risk upsetting them or muck up my chances with them. My hands and armpits start to sweat when I think about them reading or not reading my work. I will have to turn my focus toward Halloween. I love Halloween. Then I’ll start the first draft of my next book, title TBD.

Please, cross your fingers and say a little prayer for -LIFE-LIKE finding an agent and publisher soon. Thanks!

 

Week 18: The Next Big Thing Blog Hop

I’m excited to be part of the Next Big Thing blog hop. I was tagged by a wonderful writer, Lisa Koosis, Who answered the same ten questions on her own blog, writingonthinice.blogspot.com, last Wednesday.

What is the working title of your book? LIFE-LIKE
Where did the idea come from for the book? The story originated from an essay about loss. I had a miscarriage and couldn’t deal with writing about real life so my mentor at the time Rachel Resnick suggested I write fiction. The original first draft was a short story was about a dimension jumping dragon who haunts a little girl and ultimately falls in love with her and tries to be born as her baby but dies.  After a year of working on the story , and many changes, there is no dragon,and the story became about Liv.
What genre does your book fall under? Young Adult, high concept the rest is up for grabs. Spritiual, paranormal, or magical realism.
Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition? This is easy, I’ve been thinking about this for a while:

Liv: Olivia Thirlby

Maude: Rachel Weisz

Robert: Ian Somerhalder

Mary: Blake Lively

English: Blake Lively at the 2011 Time 100 gala. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Charlie: Emile Hirsch

Emile Hirsch at the premiere of Speed Racer at the 2008 Tribeca Film Festival. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book? This is where I fall apart- sorry. Here are a few short sentences: Liv is dead.  She just doesn’t know it.  And she will have to relive the eighteenth of December again and again to figure it out.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency? I’m querying agents now.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript? Once I figured out the story it took one year to have a complete first draft.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre? BEFORE I FALL by Lauren Oliver and ELSEWHERE by Gabrielle Zevin.
Who or What inspired you to write this book? The compulsion is all mine.
What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest? That’s a loaded question. I hope readers identify with Liv and like the writing. If you want to know more- here you go:

Liv wakes up Tuesday, December eighteenth believing the worst part of her day will be midterms. She has no idea in a few short hours she and her mother will be obliterated by an oncoming car in front of her high school. Liv mistakenly turns away from heaven’s light and lands in a self-constructed limbo where she is forced to relive the last day or her life and death over and over again.

Liv’s mother, Maude, a flighty artist in life, regrets her selfish parenting style and enters Liv’s limbo hoping save her. Unfortunately, Maude begins decomposing.

As Liv seeks a solution to her outrageous dilemma, she encounters a dead girl with a distinct drinking problem, a Goth tarot reader who reads Liv’s future with uncanny accuracy, a stalker who turns out to be the instrument of Liv’s death, a conspiracy of ravens who are actually angels, and a dead man who has come for her mother.

Liv’s attempts to change events of the day don’t save anyone, and Liv must move on or risk suffering a horrible eternal afterlife.

Tagged for next week – you’re it!

Kimberely Griffiths Little www.kimberleygriffithslittle.com

Amy E. Robertson www.amyiswriting.com

Ann Eisentein http://www.anneisenstein.com

Revisions, rewriting and doubting my own work

I’ve hit that point in the process of writing my first YA book where I’ve fallen out of love. Like any long term relationships it has ups and downs. This is normal. I checked in with Samantha Dunn to make sure. I didn’t trust myself. I would have asked Kimberely Griffiths Little to hold my hand through my neurotic moment, but she is very busy with her own revisions to her books that I didn’t want to bog her down with my shit.

I’ve had a disappointing week. I didn’t win the Pen Parentis Fellowship. I haven’t heard back from two different magazines about essays I submitted, I sent a short story out to Cricket and I check my mailbox every day for my SASE, and I ventured into WriteOncon and my stuff didn’t get the attention of any ninja agents, or much feedback in general and my ego is screaming HEY YOU! PAY ATTENTION TO ME! WHY AREN’T YOU NOTICING ME? PLEASE LOVE ME, I NEED YOU TO FALL IN LOVE WITH LIFE-LIKE!

Instead of accolades I’ve had to deal with the reality that writing is brutally hard often isolating work. This stack of paper represents the last four months of work. The pile depicts two binders containing drafts of LIFE-LIKE.As you can see, it’s four inches thick. And that doesn’t include all the paper I’ve recycled. At first this amount of writing felt like an accomplishment, however after putting my manuscript down for two weeks and letting an editor correct my grammatical errors I picked it up and read it through, as a book on the printed page, and the feelings of achievement were replaced with doubts. I looked at all those pages and the years of work they represent and thought, this stinks.

All I saw was a flaw. I always felt a lull in the writing at a certain point, I felt myself run out of steam, and as a reader with fresh eyes the lull screams at me, “Hey Holly, this sentence isn’t as good as the rest. It has to be. Get back to it.” Or in the ever brilliant words of Tod Goldberg, “This part of your story doesn’t suck. You must write it all on that level.” (he said that to me way back when in 2004 when I was working on a short story) I think it’s good that I can recognize weakness in my work but now I had to figure out how to make it better.

I paced, watched sad movies, then I watched action movies, did errands and even folded the laundry but nothing came to me. I read and reread the offending chapters. And I pinpointed where the changes would have to come in the book. I understood I must up the ante, increase tension and drama and that is difficult to write. I do know enough about my process to accept that I layer one thing(character development, plot, setting) in at a time per draft. I was happy to see the changes I made previously are consistent throughout the book. But they are too consistent. Who wants to read that?

My self-pity and the realization of how much work I have to do led me to self loathing.

And then I figured out one idea that can be turned into a scene that will change everything. Now I have to write it. And I have to write at least three to five chapters that carry that momentum forward before the emotional end. And I’m begging my imagination and my guides and God to help me do it now. I want all the ideas to flood in and I want my fingers to have difficulty keeping up with the story, but that isn’t happening.

That’s when doubt came along and sat next to my computer screen and stared at me. See him? He’s a crabby little bugger. Doubt is trying to convince me I can’t do it. I can’t fix the story or sell it. I think I’m going to have to show that crafty bugger he’s wrong. I’ve got to go. LIFE-LIKE is calling to me. We have unfinished business.

Sneak Peek

Hi there. Guess what? I’m working through copy edits on my book and trying to write an interesting synopsis to help sell it. I’ve been dreading the synopsis since I realized I was writing a book. How would I boil hundreds of pages down to so few? I put off worrying about the synopsis until it was time to do the deed.

I never thought I had a book in me. Surprise, surprise, I did. And since I don’t do anything half-way and because I like my story and love the characters I created, I want to try to sell it. I’m going through the traditional publishing process of submitting to agents and finding a publisher one day soon (soon in publishing means years. It isn’t that quick but you get the idea) I sincerely hope you too may enjoy LIFE-LIKE by Holly Raychelle Hughes before 2015. And I could not have even started the process if it wasn’t for Kimberly Griffiths Little. She is my guardian angel guiding my way.

In the meantime, here is my synopsis for your reading enjoyment. I don’t think I’m done working on it, so your feedback is appreciated. Please let me know if anything is too vague or confusing. Remember this is a YA novel. My synopsis is meant to tickle an agent’s curiosity bone and make them ask to read my manuscript. It is not a beat outline and it does not reveal the end of my book.

Thanks for your help!

Synopsis of LIFE-LIKE

By Holly Raychelle Hughes

Most people assume that when they die they’ll see their life flash before their eyes prior to arriving at heaven’s pearly gates where their loved ones will greet them. But when Liv dies, she doesn’t go anywhere. Not heaven, not hell. At first, Liv doesn’t even know she’s dead.

On Tuesday, December eighteenth, Liv’s mother Maude is killed in a car accident. Maude tells her daughter this grim fact while ignoring the gaping hole in her head and complaining about the sensation of cold stainless steel against her bare ass at the morgue.

Despite her initial shock and denial, Liv is determined to save her mother from deteriorating into a maternal apparition that will haunt her forever. No flying, ethereal angels lounging on white puffy clouds come to assist Liv. But angels do appear. Unfortunately Liv can’t recognize them or their attempts to help her. To Liv they materialize as bothersome ravens, a girl with a drinking problem, a Goth, a stalker, and an undead man trying to take her mother away from her forever.

Liv remains oblivious to her circumstances. Not only is she dead, she’s trapped in limbo. Liv must wake up to the opportunity fate has given or risk dying with regret suffering a horrible eternal afterlife. She takes the risks to design the life before her eyes.  First she manipulates the day in an attempt to save her mother. Changing events doesn’t save anyone but it does reveal her true feelings toward her best friend. Liv is beyond irritated. How can her life be over now that she’s fallen in love? Liv’s journey is an emotional ride through the perilous waters of love, shame and ultimately forgiveness.