Weeks 27 & 28 - Vindication

 

Update – First of all, I want to thank however many of you—yes, even the bots, and especially you, Switzerland—are actually reading this thing. I’m sorry I’ve let you down. This was supposed to be a blog about me trying to write a book a month over the course of a year. Mostly it’s been one long whinefest of me making excuses and the various creative ways I’ve discovered how to procrastinate. Every now and then I do actually write something, and I did sub the book I’m STILL working on, so it hasn’t been a total loss.

But there’s not much of an update to give because over the last two weeks I haven’t done all that much. June pretty much got eaten up by a mass of overlapping paid assignments—which, to date, I haven’t been paid for. The publishing house is HQ’d in Texas, which has been having problems lately, with hurricanes, flooding, power outages and heat waves. For all I know, the owner is one of the millions of Texans currently without power. Or maybe the bank they use to transfer my money has fallen off the grid, or been washed away. Meanwhile, my ten-year-old furnace has picked right now to have an expensive breakdown, so I could really use that paycheck. Those of you with jobs, start saving NOW. You’re going to need that money down the road, because Social Security won’t pay enough to live on. Assuming it even still exists by the time you turn 65.

I have been going through my old notebooks, and I have uncovered a couple of ideas I want to explore and maybe even turn into quickie books for much-needed cash. But first I have to write them, which for me is clearly the tricky part. I want to say I’ll get my butt in gear and do better, but I can’t give any guarantees. Remember, I’m a writer. We make things up for a living.

$$$$

While screwing off watching YouTube one day—one of the reasons I haven’t written anything but flash in the last two weeks—I came across this video, “My Ex Literary Agent Told the Truth” by a writer going by BBG. The words “literary agent” grabbed my attention so I tuned in. I’ve forgotten how to make links and don’t want to bother with experimenting, so just go to YouTube, type in the title in Search and it’ll pop up. That does work.

Briefly, here’s his tale of woe: his agent invited him out to lunch (her treat, even) and told him she might be able to sell his fantasy book to a subsidiary line of a major Big 5 publisher. However, he would have to make certain changes: 1) change the B-plot romance to a gay relationship and make it more important to the story; 2) de-age the adult protagonists to better fit a Young Adult/New Adult audience; and 3) emphasize the writer’s own sexuality (which he didn’t go into, but let’s assume it’s not straight) when marketing the book. Nothing was said about racial diversity, but that’s okay. If there aren’t any main characters of color, they’ll just put something symbolic on the cover. Worked for Twilight.

In short, the publishers weren’t looking for well-written books, they were looking to check trendy boxes. As the agent told the writer flat out: “They have a quota.”

At which point I nodded my head at the screen and uttered a sigh of relief that I’d missed out on the Berkley open call. I wasn’t being paranoid or defeatist. My adult-themed fantasy with the straight, white male protagonist and his romance with an equally straight white woman is probably unsellable in today’s market, at least if I try to go through traditional publishing. It probably wouldn’t even make it past the query stage. Maybe not even past the agent stage. Not without serious rewrites. I do have a tough prominent female character who, if you squint hard enough, might pass for a lesbian, but since the only other woman in the book is technically her sister there’s no chance for romance there. The new lead would have to be the black kid, the nephew of the writer who created the only black character in the story. Nope, hold on a sec. He’s straight and male. Better gender-swap him. Now the black writer’s niece and the blonde white lesbian can have a steamy romance while solving the mystery. Hell, we don’t even need my original straight male lead.

Yeah, that’s not happening. If you want to read that other book, somebody else will have to write it. I’m sticking to my story as originally conceived. My book would not have been chosen as is, not by a major publisher. And it wouldn’t be my fault. I have been vindicated.

Not that any of this makes me feel any better.

As for the writer in the video, he couldn’t make the changes either. The required changes would have gutted it and destroyed his whole intent. It would have been an entirely different book. It wouldn’t have been his anymore. In the end, he walked away, and so did his agent. At the end of the video we’re told the agent left the industry. She couldn’t sell books any more. Not original books by original writers. Not unless the writers were good at churning out generic box-checking diversity books because that’s all publishers want right now. I’m not sure if it’s what the readers want. If I knew what the readers wanted, I’d be writing that.

Because that’s the only way this climate is going to change. Somebody’s going to publish something that’ll become the Next Big Thing, and all the other publishers will scramble to become the first to be second. The books they’re publishing today will be sitting on Barnes and Noble’s discount shelves, or languishing, barely touched, at library used-book sales.

I hope that writer in the video writes that book. I’d rather it be me, but—well, go back and read the update. Or maybe I can fix that. Who knows? I’ve got the rest of the year to get my act together. See y’all next week.

 

 

Week 26 - (no subject)

 

Update – Not really much to talk about this go-round, either here or in the actual blog portion. I’m all caught up on the paid work and have off until Monday (July 8). I fell off on the actual writing again while I dealt with the paid stuff but will get back to typing tomorrow. I took Sunday off and spent the afternoon at my local comic book store, hanging out and keeping the clerk company (he’s an old acquaintance). We had a blast chatting with the customers about upcoming movies and classic trivia. For the record, my favorite Batman is Kevin Conroy, who provided the Caped Crusader’s voice on Batman: The Animated Series, which I mentioned last week. After Conroy passed, Mark Hamill announced he was retiring as the voice of the Joker because it wouldn’t be the same without his longtime castmate. So ends an era. My favorite Bruce Wayne—not Batman—is Ben Affleck. He’s got those classic chiseled features artists have been using for Wayne for decades. I mean, c’mon—did anybody really accept Michael Keaton as millionaire playboy Bruce Wayne? But once he put the costume on—dayum. Keaton was the best part of the recent Flash movie. I’m still imprinted on Christopher Reeve as Clark Kent/Superman, but I accept Gal Gadot as Wonder Woman. She looks like a woman who could beat the snot out of Supes. Female actors weren’t really allowed to be buff back when Lynda Carter had the role.

I made up a list of possible projects I can work on while I type/rewrite the detective story. So of course one not on the list is what decided to nudge me. I’ve found my loose scenes and I’m going to read over them and see if anything sparks. If not, I’ve got plenty of others to fiddle around with. Somehow, someway, something is going to get written by the end of July.

$$$$

I haven’t been reading much lately. Frankly, not for months. My paid job makes it harder, since all I do for that is read. Then I get to the end of the day and the last thing I want to do is stare at even more words. Add in depression and the game addiction and reading for fun kind of fell by the wayside. No wonder I haven’t been able to write. One of the best motivators/idea generators a writer can have is to read a truly horrendous, boring, badly-written book, the type that begs you to throw it across the room. (I recommend you only do this with printed books. Kindles cost money.) Now that I’m working on staying positive and rediscovering my joy in writing—and especially now that I have some time off between paid assignments—I’m going to find a good book and get back into the reading at bedtime habit. This should also help me sleep better at night. That and not eating sugary foods after 6 pm.

What to read? I’m currently reading a magazine interview with Neil Gaiman, which reminded me I’ve never read any of his Sandman work. Some comics fan I am. My local library has a massive graphic novel collection, so I should be able to rectify that easily. If not, I’ll see if any of  Robert Galbraith’s (J. K. Rowling’s pseudonym) Cormoran Strike books are available. I’ve read a couple of those and enjoyed them. Can’t solve the mystery, but I’ve gotten caught up in the not-quite-romance between Strike and his female partner. Or I can catch up on Stephen King’s books. I haven’t read any of his new ones since Covid closed down the library’s used bookstore. That, and King’s gotten boring since he sobered up. The  trouble with library books is that the trend these days is for longer works, 300-500 pages or more, and I’ve only got two weeks. If I decide to switch genres again and need to read current YA books, I’m going to be in deep guano.

If I do get writing something new—and I’d better, that credit card ain’t gonna pay off itself—I’m going to make a semi-change to the schedule and write the new book first thing in the morning, in longhand. That eliminates internet distractions, plus I’m more likely to get up from a notebook to eat than I am from the laptop. My ideal schedule would be to write my stuff in the morning, work on paid stuff in the afternoon, then wind down in the evening and watch TV. Or, better yet, read. Somehow yard work fell off the map. Yeah well. Do that on weekends.

I haven’t had a road trip in a while either. I’ve been too busy and it’s been too damn hot. I’m going to hold off on long trips until later this month, after the car’s inspected and gets a scheduled oil change. Less chance it’ll leave me stranded somewhere miles from home. I may need to wait for September for research trips to Philly. Not as much daylight, but much less humidity. I’m not worried about researching Strasburg, my book’s secondary setting. Strasburg’s about a twenty-minute drive from where I live. I can cruise around there on a Sunday afternoon and get all the info I need.

That’s about all I’ve got in the tank for this week. Enjoy your Fourth of July holiday, try not to blow off any fingers or toes with those illegal fireworks, and I’ll see y’all next week.

Week 25 - Ode to Joy

 

Update – Made it through last week in far better shape than I did the week before. I still had to spend the weekend working in order to make deadline, but I took it easy, paced myself and made it through without stress or screwing off. This whole month has been a series of overlapping assignments with short deadlines. So of course for the last of the batch I get the shortest one with the longest lead time and (so far) nothing upcoming. Monday starts a new month, but that could change. Won’t matter, because I’ll probably have this one done by Monday. I may even get some time off next week. And a nice fat paycheck in July. I’m having pizza and Chinese takeout. Finally, I get to live big!

I was supposed to write a book this month. Due to a lot of paid work (which I really shouldn’t be complaining about) and a slipup into the game playing ( which I was able to get a handle on), the writing didn’t happen. I’m still making progress on the second draft of the detective book, but I really need to get my ass in gear.

So, try, try again. I will attempt to write an entire draft of a book in July. For sure this time. Unless I get a lot of work again. And if I can decide on a genre. Maybe I’d have better luck writing YA romantacy. I hear that’s hot right now. Best excuse ever to put off writing: reading other people’s books instead. My subconscious continues to trip me up in truly insidious ways.

My readership has taken a nosedive since I posted my “diversity” rants. Even the bots don’t like politics. Yeah well. Some of the books I’m planning will be coming out under pen names so nobody’s going to know it’s me anyway.  As for YA romantacy, there’s no point in writing to trends because by the time you ID them and try to hop on the bandwagon the trend is already passé. I’ll just write whatever I want to and see if I can start a trend. Who knows, I could get lucky.

$$$$

Sometimes life is not fair. I felt that way when I learned that Mark Hamill never got an Emmy for his work as the Joker in Batman: The Animated Series. I have no idea how this travesty happened. His voice acting on there was legendary. To a lot of fans (including this one) Hamill is the definitive Joker, even beating out Heath Ledger. If you’ve seen the show, if you’ve heard Hamill’s performance, you know why. Hamill was a comic book fan, and Joker is an icon, the role of a lifetime. He threw himself into that part 210 percent; you can hear his enthusiasm coming out of your TV’s speakers. I was thrilled to learn, through an interview with Kevin Conroy (he voiced Batman), that Hamill was just as animated as his character during recording sessions. While everyone else just sat on the stools in the booth and recorded their parts, Hamill was up on his feet, physically acting out the part, providing the manic energy he felt the Joker would display. It didn’t win him an Emmy, but it earned him the respect and admiration of the fans, and a load of personal satisfaction. He was having a blast, and it showed.

A voice-acting Emmy was awarded to Eartha Kitt for her role as Yzma in The Emperor’s New School Disney TV show, a spinoff from The Emperor’s New Groove. The shows ran in different decades so they were never in competition, which is just as well. Kitt was a pro who gave her all and then some to the role, and clearly enjoyed the hell out of it. Like the Joker, Yzma was an over-the-top character she could just go wild with, and she rose to the challenge with gusto. Come to think of it, she brought that same energy to her role of Catwoman on the old Adam West Batman TV show. Eartha Kitt was a force of nature, a legend and deservedly so. Watch the show, or the movie, listen to how she delivers her dialogue, and you can tell she’s having a grand old time.

When you love what you’re doing, it shows in the finished product. On a TV show or movie, you can hear it. In a book, it comes through on the page. I’ve read otherwise well-written books that bored the hell out of me. They probably bored the writer too. Some books read like the author was cranking them out for the bucks, or contractual obligation. I think that’s what happened to Frank Herbert. Go check out Dune and its immediate sequel, Dune Messiah. Dune is an unquestioned classic of science fiction that draws you into its world and its characters and holds you spellbound for (in my edition) almost 500 pages and brings the story to a satisfying conclusion. Dune Messiah is…a sequel. It’s a competently-told story and all, but that’s it. That magic something that permeates the first book is absent from the second. I suspect Herbert was driven to write Dune due to some inner compulsion and poured his heart and all his skill as a writer into it. The drive to write Dune Messiah probably came from either publisher insistence, clamoring fans or the chance for another huge paycheck, something no writer with a functioning brain will ever turn down. You can’t blame writers for revisiting a well that’s flowing so freely. But after that first satisfying drink, the water doesn’t taste quite the same. The joy of discovery, of creating something new and exciting, simply isn’t there.

When it is present, though, you can tell. Those are the books you can’t put down. Those are the books that grab you by the throat and drag you into their world and won’t let you go until you reach the last page. For me, that was Lonesome Dove. That book ran over 1000 pages and kept me enthralled for every one of them. My only complaint was that it ended. Even after 1000 pages I still wanted more.

Or—and I’m being totally serious here—Twilight. It wasn’t my cup of hot chocolate, but I could understand why its target audience—and others—not only loved it but were rabid about it. Stephenie Meyer knew what she was doing when she created Bella and her dead boyfriend. She tapped a vein, so to speak, and the readers responded. The writing may not have been stellar, but the magic was there. It’s the magic, the writer’s joy in writing, that makes the difference.

Maybe that’s why I’m stuck and unable to work on my romance series. I did write one of them, but it was Book 3. I wanted to start with Book 1, like a normal person, but Book 3 called out to me. The characters demanded I tell their story first. So I did, and I had a blast. There were no real blocks while writing that book. I churned out pages like nobody’s business and got it done in record time. The detective book was the same way. I couldn’t wait to get up in the morning, grab my pen and notebook and go to town, even when I had no clear idea of what was coming next. Figuring that out was half the fun.

Series Book 1, on the other hand, just sat there. I had all the events in order, but the prose was flat. Devoid of magic. Even I couldn’t get myself interested in these people. If I can’t drum up interest in my own story, why should anyone else give a rat’s patoot?

This is why my career as a romance writer petered out. I can’t crank out a book a month, which is pretty much a requirement in epublishing. Not unless I’m feeling it. Sure, I could write something and call it a book. It might even be readable. People might like it and it might even sell. But I wouldn’t be happy. I want the books I write to have that magic in them. I want to feel joy in the story I’m writing, so I can share it with the readers. You guys will, hopefully, be forking over hard-earned cash for this. You deserve the best I can give you.

For July…let’s see what happens. One of my other romance series has started to nudge me again. Or maybe I need to switch genres, which is how the detective story happened. I’ll look through some notes, read through some pages, and see where the magic is hiding. If and when I find it, that’s the book that will get written. Though I may have to crank out the series on the side, because I’ve got bills to pay. That had magic in it at one time; it may stir once again. I’ll never know unless I explore. I’m off to hunt for happiness! See y’all next week.

 

  

Week 24 - Coping

 

Update – Last week got a little hectic. My day job has been sending me overlapping assignments this  month, which means either focus on one and shortchange the other due to lack of lead time, or try to do two at once. I responded by withdrawing and blowing off my work time on computer games instead. This resulted in an all-day marathon, starting at 5 a.m., the day before deadline. And I got the sucker done. The solution to the game problem was simple: unplug the WiFi. Why didn’t I think of that sooner?

I still made time to work on my own writing, at least up until the weekend. The slow pace is actually working out to my advantage. I finally caught up to a scene that’s been sitting for so long I was able to objectively see just how totally out of character my one cast member was behaving. To be fair, I didn’t know her that well when I wrote the first draft. I’ve had more time to think things over and to get to know her better, and crafted a whole new version that imparts the same info and keeps the plot moving while staying true to who she is. It also nets her the machete, which she’ll put to good use in the climactic fight scene. As an added bonus, it solved a problem I didn’t even realize existed: in that same battle, another character steals the PI’s gun and shoots somebody. Nothing in the first draft even hinted she knew how to handle firearms, in either her world or ours. So this time around I had her hand off the machete with the explanation, “I’m not much of a fighter. I can shoot a gun and that’s it.” Now I can go ahead and have her blast away with a clear conscience because I’ve set it up. This is why it’s a good idea to let time pass between drafts: the distance makes the bloopers stand out more. You plotters have it so much better; you work out all this shit beforehand.  We pantsers, who write on the fly, have to sweat through multiple drafts. On the other hand, we provide work for editors. Maybe that’s our true place in the publishing food chain.

$$$$

I’ll admit, I was in a pretty bad place emotionally last week. I think I’ve got a handle on it now. I’d better; I don’t have a support system, and I can’t afford therapy. I’m utilizing the Poor Person’s Approach to Combatting Depression: working at getting sufficient sleep, eating more fresh fruits and veggies, cutting back on sugar, taking stabs at exercise and getting out of the house more, and flat out unplugging and walking away from the internet. Looking back, last week’s anxiety and personal loathing was entirely self-generated. I let events overwhelm me and chose to shut down rather than take a step back and give myself a chance to regroup. Removing the source of temptation by pulling the Wifi plug did the trick. I got the work done with time to spare and felt much better afterwards.

I wasn’t quite over the hump, though. I jumped right into the next assignment, now with a shortened lead time because I had to wrap up the first one, but caught myself playing more games than doing actual work. I shut everything down and had a long talk with myself over what’s important. The next morning I got up and plugged in the WiFi, but this time with the resolution to take care of business first. And work got done, with the WiFi intact but without any swerves into games, and only brief forays onto YouTube. (Hint: you can tie up the net by running background music and enjoy yourself while still working.) I seem to be okay now, but I’ve walked this path before. I’m always fine after I give up the games…right up until the next time. The “next times” seem to be coming more frequently. I should be addressing the underlying problem, but the budget’s strained to the breaking point right now. Until I can earn enough money to afford a shrink, the coping mechanisms will just have to suffice.

I did learn some positive lessons from the experience. I’m capable of accomplishing more in a day than I thought I was. There’s a difference between taking a legitimate, needed break and totally screwing off. Schedules work. In this particular case, I’m the weak link in the chain.

It all comes down to time and the choices you make in how you spend it. Budget wisely and you can indeed have it all. Make a wrong, impulsive choice and you’ll be left scrambling. That may not often lead to true disaster, but it sure as hell feels like it in the moment. It can spike anxiety and a crash into hopelessness, or force you to assess and acknowledge what really matters. Do I really need to watch Thor: Ragnarok again? Deadline’s two days away. On the other hand, I can’t concentrate on the work right now and the longer I sit there, the more I feel compelled to play Spider Solitaire, which can and has stretched from “just one game” into a five- to seven-hour tournament. Or longer. Without pee breaks. That’s edging into self-destructive territory and is definitely not a good thing.

When I find myself hitting this particular wall, the best thing I can do is just get up and get outside. Or take a nap. Not play games or watch Ragnarok, because that just makes me feel guilty afterwards. Just change the venue for an hour or so. Drink water, take deep breaths. Then, once the panic passes, go back in and do what needs doing, like a real grownup. I could probably save even more time if I just breathed into a bag. I may try that sometime.

There is hope. I’m writing again because I made the choice to make time for it. I give myself an hour in the morning before I start paid work or mow the lawn or do anything else. That gets my daily writing obligation out of the way first thing. If I have the time and inclination at the end of the day after the paid work’s done, that’s gravy. On a good day, I can write, mow or pull weeds, make a sizeable chunk of progress on a paid assignment and be able to quit and watch Jeopardy or read a book at the end of the day with no guilt whatsoever. Those are the days I sleep well, too. I haven’t vacuumed or dusted in months. I can live with that but probably shouldn’t be content with it. Maybe I’ll start adding that in next week. Too much loaded on my plate makes me panic and spiral again.

Because it’s just me here. I don’t have backup. I’m my only source of income. I’m the one in charge, and sometimes that’s scary as hell. All I can do is keep on keeping on, and make better choices regarding my time than I have in the past. Like posting this blog. I used my morning writing time to get this done. Well, I can scribble flash tonight, or rewrite longhand and type it up later. And I’ll bet I just saved myself a ton of cash by dumping all this out on the Da Web instead of paying some douche with a degree to sit there and ask me, “How does that make you feel?” Thanks for handing me roughly fifteen minutes of your own precious time. I hope there was something worthwhile in here for you. See y’all next week.

 

Weeks 22 & 23 - What Grinds My Gears

 

Update(s) – Things went better last week, the week I’m writing about, than this week, the week I’ll be writing about next week. These updates would go better if I wrote them on Sundays, which was my original intention. Last week (May 26-June 1) I got stuff done, including paid work and writing. This week (May 2-May 7, the day I’m typing this) I finally started cleaning the weeds out of the yard and wrestled with a bad bout of constipation, culminating in a two-day descent into computer game hell once again. However, I got back to the writing this morning and I’m confident I can get the paid work done before deadline, so it’s all good. Next week I’ll see about getting myself back onto a less confusing schedule.

$$$$

As I feared, my last posted topic may have had internet repercussions. Over the last week my readership dropped alarmingly. Even the Hong Kong bots deserted me. Traffic’s slowly picking up again, though, so maybe it was just a glitch. And Switzerland’s still there. (waves) Maybe I’m just being paranoid.

To summarize, with clarifications: I am not against racial and sexual diversity in my reading and viewing material. I’ve included diverse characters in my own works, but only if it enhances the plot. I wasn’t planning on adding other races to the cast of my current book, but the Token Black Mercenary character started developing a personality, which led me to the conclusion his writer must have been a black man. This gave my main bad guy, the greedy, self-absorbed editor, the excuse to fire him for the crime of Writing for a White Audience While Black. The editor does a lot of reprehensible things, but that one should guarantee his infamy. It also made a crucial info source black as well, because he was the fired writer’s nephew and had actually met the two other writers the detective’s looking for. Plus it solved a background issue of my story being set in Philadelphia. Philly, like most major cities, is a melting pot of what Star Trek used to refer to as “infinite diversity in infinite combinations.” If I hadn’t included at least one Person of Color in the cast, it really would have been a fantasy.

What I do object to is having diversity forcibly crammed down my throat, in the form of a constant stream of feisty Girl Bosses who can do no wrong (think Mary Sue, but as a lesbian POC), or race- and/or gender-swapping established characters in the name of “equality” (Doctor Who; Thor: Love and Thunder). I tune in to see Superman stopping bad guys, not Superman’s young-adult bisexual son sexting with his gay boyfriend. Yes, that scene appeared in a comic book.  There are exceptions: My Adventures with Superman, the Adult Swim cartoon, is a true delight, even though Lois Lane is now biracial (she’s half Korean, according to the producers), and Jimmy Olsen appears to be permanently black, continuing the race swap initiated by the CW’s Supergirl show. That’s because everyone, regardless of skin tone, still remains true to their original characterizations. The writers clearly respect the characters and their history. That isn’t always the case. When the writers start using someone else’s characters to pound their pet agendas into our heads, it’s time to close the book or turn off the TV. Or get the hell off the internet.

But what really ticks me off is what may be the true motivation behind the surge of inclusivity, at least for the corporations that own the IP rights to all these characters getting largely-inappropriate makeovers. As with everything in a capitalist society, it all comes down to money.

$$$$

Three real-life stories, two of which happened to me personally, two of which deal with diversity…at least on the surface. Story 1: Back around 2008 I lost what turned out to be my last full-time job when the company, a printing firm, sent its work to India. This was also around the time the economy tanked, and finding jobs was a chore. I got lucky and signed on for the US Census, essentially a two-year temp job with no benefits but great pay. When that ended I still had unemployment to tide me over while I started a new job hunt in the slowly-recovering economy. I found two possibilities on the internet: a newspaper editorial position that, from the location and description, sounded like my old newspaper job, just under new management. The other was a writing job I’d applied to years ago but didn’t get; I think I may have botched the interview. Both were the types of jobs I’d been doing for years, had an interest in and experience with. Both ads contained the lines Recent graduates encouraged to apply. Experience is fine, but not required.

In short, they’re not looking for pros. They’re looking for young and cheap. Preferably women, because women traditionally get paid less. That’s how I got to be an editor in the first place. I wasn’t young, but I had no experience and would accept pittance wages to get it. The other woman, who had experience, wanted more money. Guess who got the job. Now I had experience and needed full-time work. Good luck with that.

I clicked on the Apply Now tab for the newspaper job, only to learn it was already filled, probably internally. I sent a resume to the other one. Never heard back. They probably saw the writing-related experience I had and decided I was too rich for their blood. I eventually got my work-from-home job, so things worked out, more or less.

Story 2:  It’s a few years later. Harlequin, the romance publisher, was looking for editors for Carina Press, which I think is an e-book line. They had a list of qualifications that my work-from-home job had given me some experience in. The pay sounded a lot better than what I was getting. They also used the “recent grads” line, along with a new one encouraging interest from members of “traditionally marginalized groups.” Again, experience was welcome but its lack was not a deal breaker, and diversity was a plus. I sent in my resume, answering all the questions. And got a reply: “We’re not going to interview you.” It’s the only line I remember from their response. Not even: “We had 1000 applicants who live across the street from our offices” or even “We’ve decided to hire last year’s interns.” My application itself got shot down in flames. I wish they hadn’t responded at all. Nothing like asking about a job and getting a smack in the face for it.

Months later, I checked out their “meet our new members!” page to see who’d won the lottery. It looked like they did hire a lot of interns, or people who actually knew their way around a publishing house. Can’t fault ’em for that. Some of their hires had pronouns, like “they/them”. Hey, if you’re qualified, fine. What you do on your own time shouldn’t matter anyway. But my favorite part of this story is what happened some weeks afterwards. Both the editor and the assistant editor (I think, but can’t recall for sure, if she was the one who responded to my application) were abruptly fired. The editor was on vacation at the time. She’d been there for years and had built that line from the ground up. She was also probably pulling in a higher salary than the new kids would be getting. Last I heard, she was marketing herself as a “freelance editor” and offering paid tutorials in editing. She’s not young and cheap any more, and probably not diverse either. Such is karma.

Story 3: One of the writers at DC Comics—Zack Snyder, I think, I don’t feel like double-checking—[Correction: I ended up looking it up; Scott Snyder is the comic book writer. Zack (no relation) is a director who has done DC-related movies] had been running a workshop in comic book writing for several years before I learned about it. I applied for what turned out to be the last one. Only a set number, maybe ten, would be invited, but some of those lucky few would get jobs writing for DC. I was always more of a Marvel fan, but what the hell. I always wanted to write for comics. This could be my last shot.

Well, it missed. I didn’t get picked. I did not get to take part in the workshop. In the end, Snyder picked a trans woman. Most of his previous picks were people of color, trans, black, and any and all combinations thereof. Word is that Snyder, himself a straight white man, was deliberately seeking diversity hires to broadcast his “wokeness” and secure his own job. Hell, if I’d known that was a requirement, I could have faked being a lesbian. I even supported the Harley Quinn/Poison Ivy ship before it became canon. But there y’go. Now DC Comics is in the dumpster and the writers are begging their fans for money to pay their bills because wages are even lower than they were back in the 1990s, when comics were popular. And good. And yet these people are still getting assignments, although the work’s drying up as the backlash sets in. I probably get more from Social Security than they do writing for comics. I think I may have dodged a bullet here.

$$$$

All this is why I’m glad now I missed out on the Berkley open call. That “fresh, new voices” bit was the warning shot: published writers, fogies over 40 and white folks stay away. We’re not looking for good books; we’re looking to check boxes. Quality is an afterthought. My guess is, advances are going to be a lot smaller than they were ten to twenty years ago. Assuming they even pay advances. If it’s e-books, they offer a percentage of net sales. Either way, the publisher’s going to make money; you can bank on that. The writer? Maybe not so much. But with very few exceptions, that’s always been the case.

And yet I persist. There’s nothing much else I can do. I’m no longer young and cheap, and I’ve always been boringly white and straight. I have become unhireable. Might as well go out doing something I enjoy. And no, I don’t mean playing computer games. See y’all next week.  

 

Week 21 - Diverse Thoughts

 

Update – Finally, something succeeded. I did, for starters. I began making a short daily schedule with time earmarked for writing, dealing with the paid work, and doing mundane chores. And it flippin’ worked. I started writing again. I got the paid assignment done ahead of schedule. I took time out at the end of the day to wind down and slept a whole lot better. Then I took the weekend off for Memorial Day and fell right back into my unproductive habits. I’m going to call that my vacation. I get another assignment tomorrow so I’ll be going back to the now-proven plan. I’m going to get another sub out in the mail by the end of June. This I swear!

I continue to be popular with Hong Kong bots, and my US numbers are starting to jump from single to double digits (10 counts as a double digit, remember). My reader from Switzerland still shows up occasionally, and there’s a new one from Singapore. I can’t believe I don’t have more traffic from Russia; I thought they had bots that hit blogs for a living. What’s the holdup, comrade?

$$$$

I could have had a second sub this month, but didn’t find out about the opportunity until the deadline had passed. Maybe that was a good thing. I’ll let you folks be the judge. The publisher was Berkley Books, a division of Penguin Random House so it’s legit. They had a three-day open window, same deal as the one I entered: synopsis, set number of opening pages. More genres, though. Mine’s a mix of a couple but still would have fit. Except for…

After the fact I went on the site and checked their specs. It was pretty much the same as the one I entered, with one additional paragraph that included the words “diversity” and “fresh new voices.” That right there told me all I needed to know, and what my chances would have been. They want publishable (and hopefully sellable) books, but that’s secondary. Their primary goal is to show how progressive they are by checking as many diversity boxes as possible.

I am a woman. Once upon a time that by itself would have made me a diversity hire. However, just being a woman isn’t good enough any more. Gay is the in thing now. Or being trans. Or being a person of color, as long as it’s other than white. If you’re a black trans lesbian with no previous experience, you can write your own ticket. Don’t believe me? Check out who’s been writing Marvel and DC comics for the last five years. In addition to being female, I’m white, straight, and over the age of 50. Strikes one, two and three right there. My book’s protagonist is a straight white male doing traditional straight white male things (he’s a private detective). Forget about getting a turn at bat; I’m not even going to make it to the plate. Not at any publisher that openly states they’re looking to include inclusivity.

What I’m about to say is going to be offensive to a lot of people. Fortunately, most of those people are on Twitter/X, which I’m not. I doubt if any of them are reading this blog. I should be safe enough to speak my mind.

Here’s the deal: I’m a white woman. I grew up in the ‘60s in white suburban neighborhoods in a lower middle class white family. This continued into adulthood, by chance more than choice: I moved to Amish country to be close to a job and just stayed there. Not much racial or gender diversity on display here. That’s my background, that’s my comfort zone. It’s what I know. Writers are always told to “write what you know.” When I write, all my characters start out white and straight. Except when I’m writing M/M romance; then they’re white and gay. Or nonhuman. But that’s a whole other topic. The point is, white and straight is my default mode, and that’s not in fashion right now. What, and who, I choose to write about may cost me sales, or even publishing contracts.

But here’s the thing. I’m not against diversity. I grew up reading science fiction, where all the nerds and misfits hung out. All the ideas conservative mainstream publishers wouldn’t touch were crammed into one little genre. So were all manner of writers, of varying skin tones and sexual persuasions. Nobody really gave a damn, as long as they told a good story. Yeah, women still had a better chance if they used initials or unisex pen names, but that was fading out by the ’70s. Mostly. J. K. Rowling’s publisher advised her to use initials because they were afraid boys wouldn’t read a book written by a woman. Again, I digress.

My characters start out white and straight. That doesn’t mean they have to stay that way. I’ve already had characters swap race and gender while I was writing. My M/M romance Belonging was conceived with a traditional straight man and woman couple until I discovered Supernatual. Then it became secret Wincest fanfic. It was my best seller to date, by the way. I “cast” Sam and Dean in another book. Dean made it through intact, but Sam turned into a brownskinned man. His character just worked out better that way. I’ve got another book, already written, in that stalled series of mine, where a character who was meant as a walk-on tribute to Buffy the Vampire Slayer morphed into a bisexual Pacific Islander/Hawaiian woman and became vital to the plot. I was really proud of myself for that one. I was checking diversity boxes that didn’t even exist. That was a couple years back, though. Pacific Islanders have their own tribute month now, shared with Asians.

Maybe I could have sent that one to Berkley’s open call. I don’t think it would have helped. Because, in spite of her inclusion, the lead is still a straight white male, in love with a straight white woman. (Who shapechanges into a rattlesnake. Where’s the reptilian shapeshifter representation? Huh?) I’ve already got plans to give Hawaiian Girl her own story, but that won’t happen until after the series is over, and the series heroes are all straight white males. With guns. From Texas. I think that project may be doomed.

Too bad. That’s how I conceived that series, and that’s what I’m sticking with. Same for the detective story. It was supposed to be an all-white cast, but the mercenary characters’ series had been created in the late 1970s, so their number had to include a token Black member. He ended up adding to the story, and necessitated a race change for another character. None of that changed my lead, who will remain straight and white. Nor would it have swayed the editors, whose quest for good books is just a smokescreen for an opportunity to virtue signal.

Books aren’t supposed to be about representation. They’re supposed to be about the story. If a trans black lesbian writes a compelling, superior book, by all means snatch it up and get it into bookstores. That’s what you should have been doing all along. Quality books by any writer deserve to get a shot. Those books enrich us all. But if you’re going to pass over good books in favor of box-checking, or force changes to a story in the name of “representation,” that’s not diversity. That’s tokenism, and that doesn’t help anybody. Least of all the writers and the markets you ignored for decades and are now trying to court because it’s trendy. And now that I’ve successfully shot my budding career in both feet, I’ll shut up, like a good little straight white woman writer. See y’all next week.

 

Week 20 - Do You Feel Lucky?

 

Update – Pretty much more of the same. I worked on a paid assignment, wrote daily flash while letting the books languish, and far too often ended up wasting time playing computer games. But there’s been a change. The writer’s block may be over. Yesterday I went back to the detective novel and it’s flowing again. Once I get through the current scene, it should be smooth sailing—or, in my case, typing. I may actually have a finished, polished novel ready when/if I hear back from the open call. And I’m doing it all while tackling yardwork and putting out a blog on a weekly basis. Yay, multitasking!

$$$$

That’s the good news. But there’s a lot more to it if your goal is to sell the book you’ve written. There’s rewriting, polishing, editing, and getting the word out/promotion so people are clamoring to buy the thing when you’re finally ready to publish. And one other thing that’s just as vital as any of those and maybe more important than even the writing itself, and that’s luck. You can write a brilliant book, but if you can’t get it in front of an editor who agrees with you, it’ll end up back in the drawer. Or you can write a crappy book but it hits a chord with the reading audience and word of mouth does your PR for you. Or you can write a so-so book that has so-so sales but at least you made it onto bookstore shelves, but only because it landed on the right desk in front of the right person at the right time. Countless stories told by countless successful, unsuccessful and semi-successful writers down through the decades have led me to the conclusion that talent, hard work and persistence in submitting don’t mean diddly without a nudge from that fickle bitch, Dame Fortune. Like it or not, more often than not it’s all pretty much just a crapshoot.

Which really scares the crap out of me, because my luck has never been the best.

Here’s the most recent example: Saturday. The Preakness. I hadn’t been planning to watch, but I was between putting off writing and putting off yardwork so I decided to tune in. The horses were just heading into the gate. I picked one at random, the aptly-named-for-writers Imagination. Didn’t know a thing about him. He had good odds, and the announcers said he’d never placed lower than second in any of his previous runs.

The race begins. My horse and another horse shoot out of the gate and surge to the front of the pack. There they stayed, right up until they hit the top of the stretch. The one who’d been in the lead the whole race stayed there and ended up winning. My horse did a fade and ended up finishing seventh in a field of eight. Wouldn’t be the first time Imagination wound up letting me down.

Nor was this whole scenario anything new. Back in ancient times, when I was a kid, the fam used to tune in for the Kentucky Derby and sometimes the Preakness and the Belmont. We’d pony up (yes, that’s a pun) a quarter apiece; the money would go to whoever’s pick did best. Picks were made at random so no one could claim the favorite. I never won. Ever. Each time my chosen horse would make a great showing and then run out of gas at the stretch, coming in behind everyone else’s. Such is luck.

One time, by chance, I did pick the favorite. Finally, the money would be mine! Guess again. At the finish line my pick was nowhere in sight. During the run the favorite pulled up and never finished the race. We got a post-race shot of him being led back to the stables. I think that was the last time I ever bet on a horse race. Experience taught me when it comes to money I do have luck, and it’s bad.

Imagine how I feel about getting my work before a name publisher, let alone scoring decent sales.

And yet…hope springs eternal. I keep writing, and I keep sending things off to market. Because you never know. Things could turn around. Because as bad as it can be, it’s not going to get any better if I stop sending stuff out.

That’s the secret to success. You write and write and work your ass off to improve. Make that sucker the best sparking manuscript it can be. Luck’s good and all, but it never hurts to give your work a fighting chance. Sooner or later it’s going to land on the right desk at the right time, and you’ll be on your way.

Stellar luck to everyone, and may the odds be ever in your favor. See y’all next week.