Went to book club last night, such a great bunch of gals. We talked about Prodigal Summer, by Barbara Kingsolver. Not much to talk about it, seems no one really enjoyed it. It's funny several of us read it a few years back and actually remember liking it. Now trying to reread, couldn't remember why.
Anyway, I took the query and first two chapters of my book. It was great to be able to read it out loud, it sounds different that way, and I caught some word changes while doing it. Everyone was also really good at giving criticism. They caught a problem with the dad's booze, that I completely missed. These people are poor, dad wouldn't be drinking Chivas on the rocks, we decided Johhny Walker was more likely. There were also other tips, wording issues and overall suggestions that I really appreciate. I love to be critiqued.
I was telling them, yesterday, I posted my logline for the SP on the website Absolutewrite.com. It's a chat forum, where other writers will critique, you can ask questions, it really seems like a gem of a site. So the logline started...
When a twelve-year-old girl is forced into a bet with a school bully, to secretly give away all of her family's Christmas gifts to needy families, she quickly gets in over her head, and not only risks ruining Christmas for her family, but for an entire town.
I thought that was great. Really set my story up well. I was surprised to find out they hated it!! "huh?" one guy wrote, "I don't think your logline is supposed to make someone go, huh?" Overall, everyone was pretty confused by it, they didn't understand how you could ruin Christmas by giving away gifts to needy people. Hmm... good point.
So, after chewing on my ego for a while, I decided to just keep playing. I responded back with another try...
When a 12-year-old girl’s inspired to give away her Christmas gifts to an underprivileged school, she is unwittingly forced into a bet with a school bully to secretly give away her entire family’s Christmas gifts, and not only risks ruining Christmas for her family, but for an entire town.
(the buzzer sounds... ewwww.. can you smell that?)
okay, how about this...
When a 12-year-old girl from a wealthy, all American, over indulgent family, recognizes an imbalance after visiting a lower class, neighboring school, she decides to help; only after being provoked by the school bully, she ends up making a bet to secretly give away ALL of her family’s Christmas presents, and not only risks ruining Christmas for her family, but for the entire town that’s counting on her.
(the buzzer sounds again... nope! People shake their heads, embarrassed for me.)
So after taking a shot at my critiquer (not sure if that's really a word), I called him a 12-year-old girl and since one of his posts said he's been in the business 20 years, I'm pretty sure, he's not a 12-year-old girl, I tried again...
A precocious 12-year-old girl from a wealthy family tries to teach a town about the importance of giving, but her crusade is jeopardized when everyone, including herself, focuses on the gifts, instead of the giving.
(Crowd goes wild, erupting into a standing ovation. People cry tears of joy, I am relieved... I have succeeded. )
They liked that one, and you know what? I do too. Taking criticism is hard sometimes, but I know from experience that if I go with it, everything will come out better in the end.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Query
Okay, two of my friends have commented that they need more information. This really isnt the way you pick a book. You get the jacket flap too. So here it is... This is the query that the agents get as well- without all the "thanks for your time and consideration stuff." Feel free to pick at it.
There is a moment in every woman’s life when she realizes she’s changed. The person she used to be vanished, and what’s left is strangely unfamiliar. Frannie Murdock used to be happy. She used to be fun to be around. Now she’s lost her damn mind.
A master at changing her thoughts at a moment’s notice, Frannie finds denial, and huge amounts of alcohol, to be her best option for coping with the loss of her twin brother to Leukemia. But when she snaps mentally, and is faced with the same health concerns as her brother, Frannie sinks to her breaking point. With a sloppy, stray dog to the rescue, and her Native American therapist’s spiritual perspectives, Frannie might be able to find solid ground. Confronting her past, and her estranged relationship with her mother, may finally allow her to love a man who is consistent and dependable. While the only connection that ever mattered to Frannie, is the bond between her and her twin brother, the question becomes: is that bond strong enough to exist beyond his death, and can she still recognize it?
This book is Women’s Fiction. While it has paranormal elements, the story is more about a women’s ability to heal her spirit. My book has been called a tear jerker and a page turner, although I think it’s also sarcastic and funny. At the center, it is a search for spirit and an inquiry into how much a soul can endure.
There is a moment in every woman’s life when she realizes she’s changed. The person she used to be vanished, and what’s left is strangely unfamiliar. Frannie Murdock used to be happy. She used to be fun to be around. Now she’s lost her damn mind.
A master at changing her thoughts at a moment’s notice, Frannie finds denial, and huge amounts of alcohol, to be her best option for coping with the loss of her twin brother to Leukemia. But when she snaps mentally, and is faced with the same health concerns as her brother, Frannie sinks to her breaking point. With a sloppy, stray dog to the rescue, and her Native American therapist’s spiritual perspectives, Frannie might be able to find solid ground. Confronting her past, and her estranged relationship with her mother, may finally allow her to love a man who is consistent and dependable. While the only connection that ever mattered to Frannie, is the bond between her and her twin brother, the question becomes: is that bond strong enough to exist beyond his death, and can she still recognize it?
This book is Women’s Fiction. While it has paranormal elements, the story is more about a women’s ability to heal her spirit. My book has been called a tear jerker and a page turner, although I think it’s also sarcastic and funny. At the center, it is a search for spirit and an inquiry into how much a soul can endure.
My book- Chapter One
I decided to post the first chapter of my book. I know there are a few of you out there reading my posts and I would really appreciate an opinion. I don't want you to pat my ego... my kids do that for me, I want good criticism. This is the first chapter. This is what I send to agents. If they like it, then they'll ask for more. Would you ask for more? No? Why not? Please!! Comment.
Chapter One
A group of us, completely comfortable in each other's presence, sit out on the deck of a restaurant drinking beer. Our laughter spills over, infectious to everyone within listening distance. The afternoon sun warms us, reminding all, that summer is right around the corner.
Everyone’s drawn into the story he’s telling. Sitting on the edge of their seats, waiting for the next word. I know the punch line. I know every chapter, in every story. I touch his arm, at the exact moment everyone gets the joke, laughter erupting. He looks at me, eye's sparkling, alive, and completely happy. I remember thinking in that moment, how perfect.
That's how we used to be. The memories of myself this way, days like this, are frighteningly unclear. Something I thought I would never have to remember. Who looks at themselves at any point in their lives and thinks, I better commit this to memory because it is destined to change? I am destined to change. No one does, but it happens just the same, completely out of our control.
So, who am I now? I am crazy.
I know I'm crazy. He’s standing in front of me. Leaning towards me, completely relaxed, as if he’d just awoken from a wonderful dream. What the hell? He smiles at me in his usual arrogant way, but he doesn't say a word. I rub my eyes and wonder if it's because I am so tired. I haven't slept in days. I'm actually delirious without sleep. How else could this be happening? I sit perfectly still not daring to breath, trying not to look up, but I know he's still there. My heart beats faster and my stomach tightens. I feel the tension through my entire body, as I break into a piercing cold sweat. Shit, Shit, Shit. I clench my eyes shut. Finally, as if coming to the surface after nearly drowning, I take a slow, deep, excruciating breath, and open my eyes. He is gone.
It hasn't been very long. A few horribly painful weeks since I found myself alone for the first time in my life. Now my mind's playing tricks on me. It only takes a moment for me to convince myself, I just made it up in my head. A blink of an eye, probably less, to second guess myself. There's no way that just happened.
Suddenly, I have an incredible headache. My eyes feel like they’re burning through the sockets. I close them gently, and lay my head back. I won't think of it again. I rest for a few minutes, and then get up to take some aspirin. I force myself to choke them down with a warm beer that’s been sitting on my counter for hours now. On with my day, swallowing my anxiety
from the past few minutes, with the familiar taste of the booze.
But was it anxiety I was feeling, or was it hope.
Chapter One
A group of us, completely comfortable in each other's presence, sit out on the deck of a restaurant drinking beer. Our laughter spills over, infectious to everyone within listening distance. The afternoon sun warms us, reminding all, that summer is right around the corner.
Everyone’s drawn into the story he’s telling. Sitting on the edge of their seats, waiting for the next word. I know the punch line. I know every chapter, in every story. I touch his arm, at the exact moment everyone gets the joke, laughter erupting. He looks at me, eye's sparkling, alive, and completely happy. I remember thinking in that moment, how perfect.
That's how we used to be. The memories of myself this way, days like this, are frighteningly unclear. Something I thought I would never have to remember. Who looks at themselves at any point in their lives and thinks, I better commit this to memory because it is destined to change? I am destined to change. No one does, but it happens just the same, completely out of our control.
So, who am I now? I am crazy.
I know I'm crazy. He’s standing in front of me. Leaning towards me, completely relaxed, as if he’d just awoken from a wonderful dream. What the hell? He smiles at me in his usual arrogant way, but he doesn't say a word. I rub my eyes and wonder if it's because I am so tired. I haven't slept in days. I'm actually delirious without sleep. How else could this be happening? I sit perfectly still not daring to breath, trying not to look up, but I know he's still there. My heart beats faster and my stomach tightens. I feel the tension through my entire body, as I break into a piercing cold sweat. Shit, Shit, Shit. I clench my eyes shut. Finally, as if coming to the surface after nearly drowning, I take a slow, deep, excruciating breath, and open my eyes. He is gone.
It hasn't been very long. A few horribly painful weeks since I found myself alone for the first time in my life. Now my mind's playing tricks on me. It only takes a moment for me to convince myself, I just made it up in my head. A blink of an eye, probably less, to second guess myself. There's no way that just happened.
Suddenly, I have an incredible headache. My eyes feel like they’re burning through the sockets. I close them gently, and lay my head back. I won't think of it again. I rest for a few minutes, and then get up to take some aspirin. I force myself to choke them down with a warm beer that’s been sitting on my counter for hours now. On with my day, swallowing my anxiety
from the past few minutes, with the familiar taste of the booze.
But was it anxiety I was feeling, or was it hope.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Cold Calling Crazy Bitch
Have you ever cold called an actual movie star’s agent? I have.
I was thinking the other day, about my SP. I have the entire movie playing out in my claustrophobic closet of a head, over and over and over. I could make the BEST MOVIE, if I was in charge of everything. I can pick the actors, the directors, the costume designers (okay, my aunt is a costume designer), my manager (Uncle Dan are you listening?), everybody. But… alas, I’m not in charge of everything.
So, next best thing… start moving the Universe in my direction. Hey! Why NOT!? I cold called this certain 12-year-old actresses agent. Conversation went something like this…
“Hi, I’m Susanne Sanstra and I’m new to Screenwriting. I just finished my first movie and your client would be PERFECT for the lead role.”
“Samantha, did you say?”
“Susanne.”
“Lady, this isn’t the way things are done.”
Laughing, “I’m sure of that. Look, I just wanted to tell you, that it’s posted on Inktip.com”
“Do you have financing for this movie?”
“No.”
“Well that’s what you need first.”
“I just thought you could look at the logline, if you’re interested, the script is posted there too.”
“Its against the law for us to accept unsolicited manuscripts.”
"I KNOW!” laughing again… “that’s why I posted it to Inktip. Have you ever heard of Inktip?”
“No, me personally, no.”
“Well, it’s a place for new writers, like myself, to post our work. Then you can look at it without any liability.”
"You signed a waiver?”
"YES!”
“Okay, well like I said, we really don’t get involved until you at least have financing.”
“Right, so you can’t look at the logline at least?”
“No. Sorry.”
Too cheerfully, “Okay, well thanks so much for your time.”
Hang up the phone… “WELL SHIT!”
That didn’t work out so well. So the next time, I decided to send a very well worded email to the next agent, asking them to check out Inktip. They responded in a couple of minutes…
“Thanks, we’ll take a look and let you know.”
That may have been the easiest way to blow me off by Blackberry, but hey, it’s better than just, NO!
I will not surrender!! Look the only one that's going to make something happen, is me. So the agents, producers and managers may laugh over the “crazy drunk mom” that cold called them, but I don’t care. All I need is one.
I was thinking the other day, about my SP. I have the entire movie playing out in my claustrophobic closet of a head, over and over and over. I could make the BEST MOVIE, if I was in charge of everything. I can pick the actors, the directors, the costume designers (okay, my aunt is a costume designer), my manager (Uncle Dan are you listening?), everybody. But… alas, I’m not in charge of everything.
So, next best thing… start moving the Universe in my direction. Hey! Why NOT!? I cold called this certain 12-year-old actresses agent. Conversation went something like this…
“Hi, I’m Susanne Sanstra and I’m new to Screenwriting. I just finished my first movie and your client would be PERFECT for the lead role.”
“Samantha, did you say?”
“Susanne.”
“Lady, this isn’t the way things are done.”
Laughing, “I’m sure of that. Look, I just wanted to tell you, that it’s posted on Inktip.com”
“Do you have financing for this movie?”
“No.”
“Well that’s what you need first.”
“I just thought you could look at the logline, if you’re interested, the script is posted there too.”
“Its against the law for us to accept unsolicited manuscripts.”
"I KNOW!” laughing again… “that’s why I posted it to Inktip. Have you ever heard of Inktip?”
“No, me personally, no.”
“Well, it’s a place for new writers, like myself, to post our work. Then you can look at it without any liability.”
"You signed a waiver?”
"YES!”
“Okay, well like I said, we really don’t get involved until you at least have financing.”
“Right, so you can’t look at the logline at least?”
“No. Sorry.”
Too cheerfully, “Okay, well thanks so much for your time.”
Hang up the phone… “WELL SHIT!”
That didn’t work out so well. So the next time, I decided to send a very well worded email to the next agent, asking them to check out Inktip. They responded in a couple of minutes…
“Thanks, we’ll take a look and let you know.”
That may have been the easiest way to blow me off by Blackberry, but hey, it’s better than just, NO!
I will not surrender!! Look the only one that's going to make something happen, is me. So the agents, producers and managers may laugh over the “crazy drunk mom” that cold called them, but I don’t care. All I need is one.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Book Work
Been working like a dog, (I though the analogy was cute, considering) on my novel. Have a publisher, who wants to read it. I am excited, not sure what will come of it all, but just having a reader is good news. I spent Memorial weekend typing, editing and improving. I think it's better, for the time I spent. I hope so, because I neglected my family the whole weekend.
I am also, on a diet. I have no idea why?? I'm not a weight watcher, I don't even have a scale that works properly. But I've been going to a trainer, and she sold me on the idea. It's five days of shakes, fruit, vegetables and energy bars. Day one, yesterday, we went to the horse races. I decided a Boody Mary could serve as my one serving of vegetables. Other than that, I was true to the plan. Day two, today, I feel like crap!
I don't enjoy being hungry. My head is fuzzy and I'm feeling cranky. Maybe another Bloody Mary would help... if I last the entire five days, it will be a miracle.
I am also, on a diet. I have no idea why?? I'm not a weight watcher, I don't even have a scale that works properly. But I've been going to a trainer, and she sold me on the idea. It's five days of shakes, fruit, vegetables and energy bars. Day one, yesterday, we went to the horse races. I decided a Boody Mary could serve as my one serving of vegetables. Other than that, I was true to the plan. Day two, today, I feel like crap!
I don't enjoy being hungry. My head is fuzzy and I'm feeling cranky. Maybe another Bloody Mary would help... if I last the entire five days, it will be a miracle.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Face the facts, you're OCD
I have said before, I am a believer in the Universe talking to you... well not actually speaking, not really a voice, but smacking you in the face over and over again until you get the point. So the point right now seems to be OCD and patience.
My dog's shoulder problem was called an OCD. Which at the time I thought was funny. Even though the shoulders medical problem is not at all similar to the OCD we are accustomed to, it seems the dog is developing some typical traits of the mental, actual OCD. He will not leave the damn injury alone. He is obsessively licking and scratching his incisions. In a constant battle of wills, I now have the dog wearing not only a t-shirt to cover said area, but also a sock, taped on the foot he uses to scratch. Before long the little darling will be dressed from head to toe. I know this is surprising, but I do not have the patience for this... why can't he just leave the damn thing alone?
This obvious push from the Universe was not enough to get me to pay attention. I posted my screenplay on Inktip.com today. Fabulous site, I wrote a log line and synopsis and attached a PDF file with the actual SP. Within 30 minutes I had a couple of hits. You can actually view, who looks at your logline, synopsis and screenplay. Now, what do you know, I am obsessed! Every five minutes I have to look. I need to know, who's looking. I NEED TO KNOW!! I want to know who the companies are, so I have to google them. I want to know why they are not viewing the synopsis. I want to know why two of the companies came back twice.
In my head of happy places, I think within a couple more minutes, two or three of these companies are going to call. They are going to start a bidding war and within a day or two, Wade can quit his job and I will be an official writer of movies. I will buy a new Mercedes convertible and we will live the happy life writing away contentedly on my little lap top. I love my happy place.
I can't see why the Universe keeps giving me reasons to explore my OCD and the lack of patience that is abundant in my being, I think it's just mean spirited.
I would really like to tell you more, but I can't wait anymore, I need to go check the website...
My dog's shoulder problem was called an OCD. Which at the time I thought was funny. Even though the shoulders medical problem is not at all similar to the OCD we are accustomed to, it seems the dog is developing some typical traits of the mental, actual OCD. He will not leave the damn injury alone. He is obsessively licking and scratching his incisions. In a constant battle of wills, I now have the dog wearing not only a t-shirt to cover said area, but also a sock, taped on the foot he uses to scratch. Before long the little darling will be dressed from head to toe. I know this is surprising, but I do not have the patience for this... why can't he just leave the damn thing alone?
This obvious push from the Universe was not enough to get me to pay attention. I posted my screenplay on Inktip.com today. Fabulous site, I wrote a log line and synopsis and attached a PDF file with the actual SP. Within 30 minutes I had a couple of hits. You can actually view, who looks at your logline, synopsis and screenplay. Now, what do you know, I am obsessed! Every five minutes I have to look. I need to know, who's looking. I NEED TO KNOW!! I want to know who the companies are, so I have to google them. I want to know why they are not viewing the synopsis. I want to know why two of the companies came back twice.
In my head of happy places, I think within a couple more minutes, two or three of these companies are going to call. They are going to start a bidding war and within a day or two, Wade can quit his job and I will be an official writer of movies. I will buy a new Mercedes convertible and we will live the happy life writing away contentedly on my little lap top. I love my happy place.
I can't see why the Universe keeps giving me reasons to explore my OCD and the lack of patience that is abundant in my being, I think it's just mean spirited.
I would really like to tell you more, but I can't wait anymore, I need to go check the website...
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Thursday
Roc before the truck hit him.
After. He is now wearing a t-shirt because the little shit scratches his shoulder even with the helmet head! I am going to use this photo as blackmail whenever the little darling decides to get married. (Now you know why my kids worry!)
Two quick notes...
School is out tomorrow! Yeah!! Can't wait.
And, I'm really glad David Cook won. Archie bugged me.
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