Aug 20 2009
Important Decisions . . . Eek
There’s nothing like importance to bring on total professional paralysis.
The Advent, let there be rejoicing, is shaping up really well in outline form just now; I think it’s finally done bursting out in useless fits and starts and is shaping into a story. But part of its difficulty getting to this point is that it feels important: it’s the end of a series, it deals with heavy issues, I want it to be really good.
All this week I’ve been struggling with paralysis in another area.
I’m going to a Writers Digest Conference in September, and all attendees get to submit something ahead of time for use in a 15-minute critique with an editor. Ten attendees will be chosen to meet with an agent as well, on the strength of their submission. We have a few options, and two are relevant to me.
1. A query letter for a finished novel.
2. A self-published book.
I have both — a query for Angel in the Woods, and of course Worlds Unseen and Burning Light in book form. The conference is unusual in that it addresses marketing and other concerns for both self- and traditionally published authors, and a few of the sessions will address transitioning from one to the other.
What would YOU have submitted?
I mulled this choice for days and finally decided to send a query for Angel. The biggest factor in that decision? IF something crazily wonderful was to happen and the materials I submit were to catch the attention of an agent or editor and actually lead to publication (a big, REALLY BIG “if,” I know), I’ll be happiest if The Advent can keep on its current trajectory without interruption.
Anyway, I sent the query about an hour ago. The paralysis of importance is over; now is the hour of the potential agony of regret :). Who knew freelancing was such emotionally fraught work?
Determined to find out what has happened, Chris and his team borrow a couple of offroad vehicles and hit the freeways of the southern U.S., dodging pile-ups of empty cars as they journey toward Houston — source of a brilliant beam of light, and, they hope, of the answers they need. On the way they rescue a homeless girl (“Who do you think I am?” she asks; “You’re the fly in the ointment,” Owen answers”), battle a ferocious storm, discover the enemy, and come to terms with secrets of their own.









