November 2023
Busy studying literary agents as I prepare to query for my full-lenght memoir about surviving not only the carcinogenishpere that is modern America, but the profit machine that is modern American medicine.
COMING SOON!
What Lasts, a Narrative Reliquary will be released by Wrong Publishing in December 2023. Watch here for more news.
Still seeking
Over the past months, I’ve received numerous comments from agents:
“Thanks so much for sending this. This promises to be a heartrending and powerful book, but I'm afraid I might not have it in me to work closely on this project -- I have a young child and I don't know that I have the emotional distance to be a good editor to you. But I do hope you find the right partner for this important book.”
“While there’s much to be admired about your writing, this one isn’t quite right for me. That said, please know that publishing is a VERY subjective business, and that other agents may feel differently. And remember — it only takes one “YES” and I wish you the best of luck with this.
“I loved the premise of the material, and I discovered that you are a solid writer but I’m afraid it just isn’t for me.
“You have an interesting story to tell and there's a lot to like about your approach. But in the end I'm afraid I didn't come away quite fully convinced this was something I think I'd be able to represent successfully. “
“I kept picking this up and putting it down. I was drawn in by the great writing, and the story, but as you’ve already noted I don’t seem to be fully the engaged in the way that you’d want for representation. I’m sure you’ve gone ahead with queries to other agents, so I just wanted to say how much I appreciate the chance to consider.”
“You’re a lovely writer, but I’m afraid I’m going to step aside – I’m just not good with narratives involving dying kids. This is so well-done that I’m sure agents will be beating down your door to get it – very very best of luck with it!
Still seeking that perfect match, that partner in bringing this book to life.
COMMING SOON
What Lasts, a Narrative Reliquary, will be released in December of 2023, by Wrong Publishing.
Keep Climbing
About a year ago, my cousin posted a photo of himself and his daughter at the top of the Manitou Incline trail in Colorado. Only 1 mile long. 2,744 steps. 2,000 foot elevation gain. The average grade for the trail is 45%, in some places, it's as steep as 68%. The base of the incline sits at 6,600 feet above sea level and finishes at 8,600 feet. Athletes come from all over the world to make the climb.
I'm the kind of person who sees those photos and thinks - I could do that, I'd like to do that. But let's face it, that one mile climb is not for the unprepared or the faint of heart. It takes 3 -4 hours for emergency personnel to reach a hiker who needs help on the trail. It takes workouts and workouts and workouts to get ready. Those of us living at or near sea level need to acclimate to the altitude to make the climb.
Here's the thing. I am doing that climb in the book world. Revising, tweaking, and tightening lines and chapters. Writing query letters and sending off sample pages. The oxygen is thinner up here. Sometimes, it's really, really quiet. I have to breathe deeply to steady myself and keep going. I'm only at the outset, there's still a lot of altitude to conquer. There are going to be some screaming muscles. But, whatever, I'm alive and doing it. And when I remember to pick my head up and look around, the view is fine.
Rock Climbing
The above photo is of me (tucked behind the word News) circa 1980's, climbing a cliff face in the Rocky Mountains. In the cold. And rain. Sleek and slippery rock. The folks up top offer words of support, as well as a rope belay to catch me if I fall. I don't have to die. But the climb? I'm on my own.
No one pulls the climber to the top. Steady, clear-headed footsteps on tiny rock ledges and long reaches with arms that search for nooks and crannies big enough for fingertips propel her upward. The climber has to trust her quivering leg muscles, her choice of handholds. She's got to believe she can do it.
The above photo could be of me, circa the 20-teens, writing and working to publish a book. Writing a book about learning to love a troubled son to and through his death by suicide - or writing any book - is a slippery and sometimes dangerous climb. Finding a publisher? Even more so. I sent out my first query letter at the end of April. So far ... the sound of raindrops on the cliff face. But I trust my quivering legs and my choice of handholds. It may be a cold and tedious climb, but I plan on reaching the top.