Sign Of The Times

This afternoon I was talking on the phone to a friend and fellow author when she pulled up something on the internet I'd never seen before. Even though she read it off the screen to me, I had to go take a look for myself. It was submission guidelines for emailing a query, synopsis, and complete manuscript to one of the mass market print pubs. Yes, you read that correctly. Dorchester is now taking unsolicited submissions of entire manuscripts via email.

I realize this isn't exactly earth shattering news, but I'm amazed and a little bit dumbfounded.

Back during the Stone Age, when I first ventured into the romance writing community--before YahooGroups even--every bit of contact with editors and agents was done via snail mail. It was a slow, torturous process. In fact, it took forever. I remember the turnaround time on the very first partial I submitted was one year. An entire year. For a partial. Can you imagine?

Anyway, it wasn't long before the internet got its hooks into everyone. YahooGroups came into existence, and all the loops and groups shortly followed. I remember when agents first started taking email queries. It was only a handful at first, then more and more. Now, it's unusual to run across an agent who doesn't take an email query. And it's great. Sometimes, you get a reply with a request or a "no, thank you" within an hour or two instead of a week or two.

During the anthrax scare right after 9/11, Avon went to email queries only. Now, other NY pubs have joined in and put their addresses online and invited queries, too. But today was the first time I've ever seen one of the major romance print publishers invite submissions of entire manuscripts via email attachment. And unsolicited, for Pete's sake! How great would it be if all publishers did this? (Yes, I know. Harlequin allows unsolicited email subs for their shorts that are aimed for digital publishing. This is a whole nother ballgame.) Just think of the postage that would be saved, not to mention not having to stand in line at the post office to mail those bulky Priority envelopes.

Anyway, I'm tempted to email something to Dorchester just to mark the occasion. I wonder if they send out that same crappy, faded, Xeroxed form rejection for email submissions. If I find out, I'll let you know. That thing is the pits. ;o)

Devon

Opening Lines

"It was a dark and stormy night..."

Everyone's familiar with that infamous first line penned by Bulwer-Lytton. But do you know why it's so famous? Here's the explanation from Wikipedia: "It was a dark and stormy night" is a phrase penned by Victorian novelist Edward Bulwer-Lytton, 1st Baron Lytton at the beginning of his 1830 novel Paul Clifford.[1] The phrase itself is now understood as a signifier of a certain broad style of writing, characterized by a self-serious attempt at dramatic flair, the imitation of formulaic styles, an extravagantly florid style, redundancies, confusing syntax, and sentences—sometimes incorrectly dubbed run-on sentences—that are exceedingly lengthy. Bulwer-Lytton's original opening sentence serves as an example:

It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.

Good grief. No wonder the line has gone down in history as an example of bad writing. Bulwer-Lytton should have quit while he was ahead and put a period after that first clause.

Opening or first lines are one of my pet peeves. The first line of the first paragraph on the first page of any manuscript is a matter of great concern. It has to sound right. It has to set the tone. If it does neither, nothing that follows seems to flow or fall into place. Not to me, anyway. I've completely rewritten pages so that I could work in a particular opening line that I thought sounded just right.

I also pay attention to opening lines written by other authors. Some are pure dynamite. Most seem just bleh. And some come close to rivaling Lord Lytton's infamous line in an attempt to pack a single sentence as full of information and description as possible. One particular best-selling author who's always guilty of this comes to mind.

Since I write historicals, an opening line in an omniscient point of view sometimes works very well to set the tone and achieve a catchy opener. Many authors use this little trick, even though you might never find another omniscient line in the entire book. It works, so why not.

Do you obsess over opening lines, or even first paragraphs? During the writing process, do you go back to the beginning time and again to tweak until you feel it's near perfection? What's the one opening line from any book that's stuck with you through the years? Mine is from K.M. Moning's The Dark Highlander, and it goes like this: "Dageus McKeltar walked like a man and talked like a man, but in bed he was pure animal." Don't ask me why that's stuck with me since 2002, it just has. Other than my own, it's the only opening line I can instantly recall word for word.

Devon

Friday Munchies

It's been one of those days. We got unexpected company just about the time I was ready to head out to the grocery store. So, it was much, much later before I was able to go and I made the mistake of going hungry. I only went after a few necessities, like milk, cereal, and soft drinks, but I ended up loading up on junk. An entire pudding cake, chocolate frosted donuts, peanut butter cookies, potato chips, an assortment of candy (all chocolate), pudding cups (triple chocolate and tapioca), and two kinds of ice cream (Edy's French Silk and a big box of chocolate covered vanilla bars). Ai-yi-yi... The worst part is, hubby's diabetic.

Speaking of food, I'm very put out with Little Man (the cat). For a while now he's been losing weight and I couldn't figure out why. I feed him very well, and when I check back, the food's all gone. Well, as it turns out, HE'S not the one eating the food. A strange cat has been lurking around and going into the garage and eating his food. I've caught him at it twice in as many days. When the cat comes into the garage, Little Man simply steps aside and lets the other cat have his food. I've tried to run the cat off, but he doesn't act a bit frightened by all my yelling. And he's no stray. He, evidently belongs somewhere in the neighborhood because he looks very well fed and cared for. It's just so strange that Little Man won't defend his territory and allows this cat to eat his food. And he keeps getting thinner. To add to the aggravation, he's gone on a killing binge lately. We've been finding ground squirrels (chipmunks) lying all around the outside of the house. I'm thinking he's hunting because he's hungry. The little idiot. I've thought about closing up the access to the garage so the big yellow strange cat can't get in, but then Little Man would be locked out, too.

Well, enough of this meaningless ramble. I hope everyone has a terrific weekend.

Devon

Soon To Be Almost Empty Nest

Dear Glynis and Jennifer, my apologies for the disappearing posts. Professionally and personally, I've been a wreck the past several days. Having a meltdown in a public place is the last thing I should be doing. My only excuse is that my emotions have been very close to the surface. Mags, if you're out there, please come back. I promise to behave myself.

The last thing I'm going to say about the RWA vs. the digital age issue is that I'm not offering any more opinions on the matter because my viewpoint changes depending on my mood. So that's that.

Taking a breath now and getting to the title topic of this post.

Yesterday was a huge turning point in my personal life, as well as my son's, who is pictured here. He finally got his driver's license. He's owned a car for nearly a year, paid for with his own money he earned from working, but he's never been able to get out on his own and drive it. Until yesterday. He took the test early yesterday morning and finally got his license. Immediately after, we went to the insurance company to get him on our policy, then came home. Within the hour of our arrival, he took off in his car and drove to Richmond to stay with friends until the weekend.

Eeeeek!!! That's me screaming at the top of my lungs. I've never really decided how one should spell a scream, but that's what the eek is supposed to be.

My baby boy pulled out of the driveway and left. On his own. For the first time ever, he was on the highway--the freeway, even--without me sitting in the passenger seat guiding his every move. Needless to say, I spent an evening I never want to repeat--I actually got physically ill and was up until 4:00 this morning, even though he called as soon as he got to Richmond and told me he'd made it okay. I know this scenario is going to be repeated over and over until I get past the fear of him killing himself on the highway.

Even though I'm scared to death, I'm really happy for him. Not having a license had put his life in a holding pattern. He couldn't come and go as he pleased and he even had to quit his job--at my request--because I was running back and forth to town twice a day to take him to work and then pick him up again, most of the time with my handicapped daughter in tow. So something had to give and, unfortunately, that something was his job.

Okay, so he's on the road. Now the next big thing is him moving out. I know it's coming. He's been talking about it and making plans for months. The friends he's visiting have an apartment and they're anxious to make him a roomie and split even more expenses. Even though I'll be heartbroken when it happens, I know this too must come to pass. He's 20 years old. It's time he experienced the world outside the sheltering wings of me and his father. I have a feeling this may happen when he returns from his little trip up north.

I know that many of you have already dealt with a child leaving home and striking out on his or her own. But this is all new to me and I'm a total mess.

Devon

T.G.I.M.

After spending a very unsettled weekend (I'm not even a member of RWA anymore and all the e-pub brewhaha still had me upset), I've gone back to my happy place. And none too soon. Sorry for the disappearing posts but I have some serious unresolved issues, and as much as I'd like to spill my guts, this isn't the place to do it. Anyway, I sent my son outside with his camera earlier today and he took a shot of the Christmas cactus. I wish he'd gotten a close-up of one of the blooms, but this will have to do. Here's hoping the week is better than the weekend.

Devon