2010: A Writing Year in Reflection

I've been thinking a lot lately about my writing journey.

First, there's how grateful I am to be a part of this writing/blogging community. There's how grateful I am for a husband who encourages my writing, and for the best writing group ever. And I'm also enormously thankful for my agent, Holly Root.

Like Elana Johnson, I've been shocked when a writing partner or Holly has suggested a tough change that I was somehow able to pull off.

Once in a while, things have moved fast. More often, though, it's been slow. I'm learning to be patient.

Here's how it all went: In October 2009, I queried Holly at the Waxman Agency. A week later, I was thrilled when she requested the first three chapters! But, while I sent them within seconds and checked my email every five minutes, it was February before I'd heard back from busy Holly, who'd requested the full.

Another agency was talking to me about revision and representation, and another was expressing interest, but I was hoping, hoping for Holly, whose Twitters are witty but clean, whose client list is chock full of talented writers who adore her, who is kind and bright and professional.

After two straight months of revising per Holly's brilliant suggestions and polishing every Wednesday night at writing group, I got an exciting email: Holly loved the changes; she wanted to call me, and at 6:12 the next morning, she did--with the loveliest, most cheerful voice--offering representation!

Long story short, I queried in October, signed in June.

And since then, I've completely revised the story again, which I've recently sent back. And every time, the story gets stronger and richer and deeper. I want to listen to what Holly tells me. I want to apply her wisdom, her creativity. To not let her down. To learn.

It's winter again--all white today in Ashland. And this is the time of year when I usually start writing something new. So while Holly reads my latest draft, while I send her thoughts of gratitude and hope from triangle pose in yoga, I might whip up some nice Ghiradelli hot chocolate for myself and plunk away at the keyboard about this wild new idea I have...

I hope this inspires you. To keep writing, to keep querying. To join a writing group. To know the process is long and hard but really rewarding.

Let There Be Light!

There's this lamp on my mind--a little lamp with a little beaded shade you might've found on a cabaret table in Berlin in the '20s--that caught my eye my first year at San Francisco State. I was riding the bus home, and there it was on Mission Street, right in the window: the light of my life.

I must've passed that thing a hundred times before I finally went into the shop one day and asked about it.

"It's a Tiffany Lamp," the woman told me sternly. "It's $300."

I wanted that lamp so badly. But of course I didn't have the three bills to flip for it.

Twenty-one years later, I still remember what that lamp looked like. And even more, I remember how bad I wanted it.

I wanted it more than I had wanted anything so impossible.

Until now.

Now, I'm wanting something terribly badly and terribly impossibly.

And if it happens to happen, the first thing I'll do is order that little red Tiffany Lamp I've already found online.

At Maximum Capacity, With Room For Some Good News

It's the end of the term, of winter term. There's a stack of 30 analysis papers in my living room. And a pile of 10 billion Legoes on the floor.

Conferences are coming up. For my students. For my kids. Grades are due. Bills are due.

I didn't even realize yesterday (the FOURTH) was March, and forgot to pay the piano teacher.

I left my grading sheet (!) at school.

I left my phone at my friend Wendi's house. So I missed my first ever call FROM AN AGENT!

But!

Things are really really good right now.

My marriage is strong, and will be even better when Dave gets off shift today.

My kids are healthy.

There's enough fruit to throw in the blender for a smoothie.

"Brookyn's Finest" opens tonight, and I'm a sucker for a good bad-cop movie.

We get to go to "Grease." For free.

The daffodils are right outside my door, if I'm in doubt that spring will ever come.

It's my friend Leslie's birthday and she's having a Circus Party.

Christy sold book rights to Russia!

AAAAAnnnnnddddd....

An agent I enormously admire has completely renewed my faith in YA writing. I absolutely LOVED my conversation with her yesterday, and am hoping whole-heartedly.