Xanadu.
I was wondering if it'd hold up, or if it only appealed to us preteen '70s girls--those of us who wanted to *be* Stevie Nicks and maybe at one point had an Abba haircut. But no. I just watched it with my almost-nine-year-old daughter, and she can't stop dancing around the house, pretending she's Kira or one of her muse sisters. The copy we watched has to go back to the library tomorrow, but now I'm wondering if Borders stocks it. Definitely worth printing out a coupon and making the haul up to Encinitas.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
back from new york
Whew! What a weekend! How to sum it up? How about an extended remix version of a past-tense, second person ode to Ecclesiates 3?
There was a time for everything,
a season for every activity at SCBWI New York.
A time to check in at registration and a time to celebrate who you got as a table leader at the intensive.
A time to read your own stuff and a time to listen to the pages of others.
A time to give constructive criticism and a time to receive it while taking lots of notes.
A time to discern which comments were overly subjective and a time to make changes after hearing something twice.
A time to network and a time to give the professionals some space.
A time to hole up in your hotel room making sure a manuscript is perfect and a time to press SEND, fulfilling a request.
A time to buy a metro card and a time to get turned around when you exit the subway station.
A time to dine at a deli serving eight-inch-tall sandwiches that won't let you order a half and a time to ask for a box.
A time to walk around the city seeing the sights in nineteen-degree weather and a time to purchase a fuzzy hat.
A time to buy cupcakes even though you're already full and a time to eat one, then feel overstuffed and sick but still satisfied.
A time to check the sign on the side of the train and a time to get off, before the train starts heading the wrong direction.
A time to check the ferry schedule and a time to cut your losses and figure you'll see the Statue of Liberty up closer next time.
A time for coffee and a time for that second cupcake.
A time to hug your friends and a time to rush to the airport after that last incredible keynote.
There was a time for everything,
a season for every activity at SCBWI New York.
A time to check in at registration and a time to celebrate who you got as a table leader at the intensive.
A time to read your own stuff and a time to listen to the pages of others.
A time to give constructive criticism and a time to receive it while taking lots of notes.
A time to discern which comments were overly subjective and a time to make changes after hearing something twice.
A time to network and a time to give the professionals some space.
A time to hole up in your hotel room making sure a manuscript is perfect and a time to press SEND, fulfilling a request.
A time to buy a metro card and a time to get turned around when you exit the subway station.
A time to dine at a deli serving eight-inch-tall sandwiches that won't let you order a half and a time to ask for a box.
A time to walk around the city seeing the sights in nineteen-degree weather and a time to purchase a fuzzy hat.
A time to buy cupcakes even though you're already full and a time to eat one, then feel overstuffed and sick but still satisfied.
A time to check the sign on the side of the train and a time to get off, before the train starts heading the wrong direction.
A time to check the ferry schedule and a time to cut your losses and figure you'll see the Statue of Liberty up closer next time.
A time for coffee and a time for that second cupcake.
A time to hug your friends and a time to rush to the airport after that last incredible keynote.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
future perfect, part 2
I guess I got a little wordy there, but so what? It's my fantasy, right? So here's a continuation from Saturday:
I admit that I don't officially have an agent, but I've been working with someone. Editor X tells me to have Agent Y make contact on my behalf Monday so they can start talking. Then we go off our separate ways and all the sessions I signed up for turn out to be extremely informative.
At the luncheon, Agent Y shows up by my side, saying s/he just got there because s/he just finished reading my manuscript. Agent Y loves it and wants to represent me. I say yes, and guess what? Then I share what Editor X had to say. Agent Y is excited but says my story is good enough to go to auction, so I shouldn't get too attached to Editor X. Really? I ask. I like Editor X. Can I tell him/her what Agent Y is thinking? Sure, Agent Y says, just be aware.
The afternoon sessions go great, just like the morning. After the concluding keynote, Editor X taps me on the shoulder, and we have a little chat. I tell him/her about what Agent Y said, and Editor X nods understandingly. Then s/he asks me what I'm doing after the conference. Me? Nothing, I guess. No plans as of yet. Cool, Editor X says. Want to go see a show? Editor X has tickets to a last minute show over in Brooklyn. Matt & Kim are playing, and LCD Soundsystem is opening for them!!!! I ask, Are you psychic? Then I tell Editor X there's no way I'm letting Agent Y take my manuscript to auction--Editor X has won my heart. We go to the show and I make it back on the train with no problem.
Sunday--I'm floating all morning. Everything goes well at the conference and on the way home.
I admit that I don't officially have an agent, but I've been working with someone. Editor X tells me to have Agent Y make contact on my behalf Monday so they can start talking. Then we go off our separate ways and all the sessions I signed up for turn out to be extremely informative.
At the luncheon, Agent Y shows up by my side, saying s/he just got there because s/he just finished reading my manuscript. Agent Y loves it and wants to represent me. I say yes, and guess what? Then I share what Editor X had to say. Agent Y is excited but says my story is good enough to go to auction, so I shouldn't get too attached to Editor X. Really? I ask. I like Editor X. Can I tell him/her what Agent Y is thinking? Sure, Agent Y says, just be aware.
The afternoon sessions go great, just like the morning. After the concluding keynote, Editor X taps me on the shoulder, and we have a little chat. I tell him/her about what Agent Y said, and Editor X nods understandingly. Then s/he asks me what I'm doing after the conference. Me? Nothing, I guess. No plans as of yet. Cool, Editor X says. Want to go see a show? Editor X has tickets to a last minute show over in Brooklyn. Matt & Kim are playing, and LCD Soundsystem is opening for them!!!! I ask, Are you psychic? Then I tell Editor X there's no way I'm letting Agent Y take my manuscript to auction--Editor X has won my heart. We go to the show and I make it back on the train with no problem.
Sunday--I'm floating all morning. Everything goes well at the conference and on the way home.
future perfect
So this morning, I was thinking about what my hopes are for this week's Winter SCBWI conference in New York.
Short version: Find an agent and/or editor who loves my work and wants to champion it.
Long version:
Thursday - My flight gets in at a reasonable time, with no weather complications on either end of the trip, and my bag comes through totally fine. The subway ride into town is efficient and uneventful. Like last time I was in New York, there are no clusters (or even individual!) gang members in clown makeup or baseball uniforms waiting to hold me up at knifepoint, and the trains are much cleaner and less graffitied than L.A.'s RTD buses. When I get to the hotel, even though it's barely light outside since I've just flown in on a redeye, they let me check into my room waaaaaay early. I catch a short nap before hopping on the subway to meet my friend Cindy for brunch at a restaurant in Chelsea. Coming out of the subway, I don't get turned around and temporarily lost. I find the restaurant on the first try, and their food is incredible. Cindy and I have a great time chatting. When it's time to ask for the check, our super-hot waiter who's been flirting with us all morning delivers a certificate on the little bill tray that says, CONGRATULATIONS! YOU'RE OUR MILLIONTH CUSTOMER. THIS ONE'S ON US! So hello, awesome! Then Cindy points me in the right direction to see some super cool sights in the city, and I have a great time exploring. While wearing completely weather-appropriate clothing, so I'm not freezing while walking around.
Thursday night, my friend Pat comes into town and we go out to dinner. I thought the morning's food couldn't be topped, but I was wrong. Pat is friends with the restaurant owner, so he gives us the best table in the place and insists we sample all their finest (paired with wine), making for a multi-multi-course meal, then he comps us our dinner. Pat and I have a great time catching up, and we both remember to bring a few current pictures of our kids, who used to play together back when they were toddlers and she still lived in California.
Friday - I wake up with no alarm clock SNAFUs and get ready on time. My hair turns out perfectly, which I can confirm because my hotel room has a good back-of-the-head-seeing mirror setup in its bathroom. When I get downstairs, I find that I am appropriately dressed for the indoor climate and don't need to go back upstairs to put on a warmer outfit. I check in at the registration table (which is readily found) and discover that--wow!!!!--they've given me two superstars as table leaders for the writers' intensive.
During the first read-and-critique session, everyone (including the table leader, a prominent editor whose authors I've read and thoroughly enjoyed) loves my work. Praise is generous and criticisms are minor (but constructive!) and few. When the session ends, our table leader asks if s/he can take me out to lunch. Over the most incredible soup I've ever tasted, the editor tells me s/he wants to read the rest of my manuscript ASAP. Since I've brought my computer, I offer to email it as soon as we get back to the hotel. I really like this editor, feel comfortable with and trust him/her, and get the feeling that this is the start of a long, productive relationship.
Back at the hotel, during the second critique session (after I've already emailed the full to Editor X), again, everyone loves my work. This time, however, my table leader is an agent with an unparalleled contemporary YA sales record. After the session, the agent asks if s/he can take me out to dinner. I accept, and we go out for Thai food at some divey place that has a coconut soup even better than the one at Spices and silver noodles that know no comparison. Agent Y also wants to read my full, so I promise to email it when I get back to the hotel. After dinner, Agent Y walks me back to the subway station and points me onto the right train back to Grand Central.
Saturday - They haven't run out of breakfast goodies by the time I get downstairs pre-conference. While I'm adding cream to my coffee, Editor X comes up to me, bleary-eyed. S/he stayed up until three reading my story and loves it. No editorial meeting approval necessary--Editor X wants to make me an offer on Monday. Do I have an agent?
Short version: Find an agent and/or editor who loves my work and wants to champion it.
Long version:
Thursday - My flight gets in at a reasonable time, with no weather complications on either end of the trip, and my bag comes through totally fine. The subway ride into town is efficient and uneventful. Like last time I was in New York, there are no clusters (or even individual!) gang members in clown makeup or baseball uniforms waiting to hold me up at knifepoint, and the trains are much cleaner and less graffitied than L.A.'s RTD buses. When I get to the hotel, even though it's barely light outside since I've just flown in on a redeye, they let me check into my room waaaaaay early. I catch a short nap before hopping on the subway to meet my friend Cindy for brunch at a restaurant in Chelsea. Coming out of the subway, I don't get turned around and temporarily lost. I find the restaurant on the first try, and their food is incredible. Cindy and I have a great time chatting. When it's time to ask for the check, our super-hot waiter who's been flirting with us all morning delivers a certificate on the little bill tray that says, CONGRATULATIONS! YOU'RE OUR MILLIONTH CUSTOMER. THIS ONE'S ON US! So hello, awesome! Then Cindy points me in the right direction to see some super cool sights in the city, and I have a great time exploring. While wearing completely weather-appropriate clothing, so I'm not freezing while walking around.
Thursday night, my friend Pat comes into town and we go out to dinner. I thought the morning's food couldn't be topped, but I was wrong. Pat is friends with the restaurant owner, so he gives us the best table in the place and insists we sample all their finest (paired with wine), making for a multi-multi-course meal, then he comps us our dinner. Pat and I have a great time catching up, and we both remember to bring a few current pictures of our kids, who used to play together back when they were toddlers and she still lived in California.
Friday - I wake up with no alarm clock SNAFUs and get ready on time. My hair turns out perfectly, which I can confirm because my hotel room has a good back-of-the-head-seeing mirror setup in its bathroom. When I get downstairs, I find that I am appropriately dressed for the indoor climate and don't need to go back upstairs to put on a warmer outfit. I check in at the registration table (which is readily found) and discover that--wow!!!!--they've given me two superstars as table leaders for the writers' intensive.
During the first read-and-critique session, everyone (including the table leader, a prominent editor whose authors I've read and thoroughly enjoyed) loves my work. Praise is generous and criticisms are minor (but constructive!) and few. When the session ends, our table leader asks if s/he can take me out to lunch. Over the most incredible soup I've ever tasted, the editor tells me s/he wants to read the rest of my manuscript ASAP. Since I've brought my computer, I offer to email it as soon as we get back to the hotel. I really like this editor, feel comfortable with and trust him/her, and get the feeling that this is the start of a long, productive relationship.
Back at the hotel, during the second critique session (after I've already emailed the full to Editor X), again, everyone loves my work. This time, however, my table leader is an agent with an unparalleled contemporary YA sales record. After the session, the agent asks if s/he can take me out to dinner. I accept, and we go out for Thai food at some divey place that has a coconut soup even better than the one at Spices and silver noodles that know no comparison. Agent Y also wants to read my full, so I promise to email it when I get back to the hotel. After dinner, Agent Y walks me back to the subway station and points me onto the right train back to Grand Central.
Saturday - They haven't run out of breakfast goodies by the time I get downstairs pre-conference. While I'm adding cream to my coffee, Editor X comes up to me, bleary-eyed. S/he stayed up until three reading my story and loves it. No editorial meeting approval necessary--Editor X wants to make me an offer on Monday. Do I have an agent?
Saturday, January 23, 2010
is someone trying to tell me something?
Last night, I went to a get-together with a bunch of people I'd never met before. None of them knew I'll be leaving for New York Wednesday, but they all had stories of how surprisingly freezing New York can be during the last week of January. Stories of nine-degree temps and frozen feet abounded. Even shopping enthusiasts intent on seeing the best the city had to offer were thwarted by the cold and abandoned their favorite pursuit.
So maybe I should pack (and wear!) some thermals for under all those outfits I've been planning.
So maybe I should pack (and wear!) some thermals for under all those outfits I've been planning.
Friday, January 15, 2010
business cards: yes or no?
In less than two weeks, I'll be leaving for the national SCBWI winter conference in New York. I've been to three of the SCBWI's summer conferences in Los Angeles (since they're way closer to home), but this'll be my first New Yorker. Anyway, the same question faces me once again: As an unpublished writer, do I really need to bring business cards?
Sure, they're great for networking purposes, but that's for networking with other writers, not agents or editors. I've never had an agent or editor ask for a card. If I had, this wouldn't be an issue--I'd have gotten those puppies printed while I was still *at* the conference and begun handing them out while they were still hot out of the laser printer. And that's not to say editors haven't kinda-sorta expressed interest in me at conferences, either. Two editors sent me free books in the mail after the conferences I've been to. Much better than trading cards! As best I recall, I was told to email my information when I got home. And I can understand that--I mean, if you're a writer, shouldn't you be able to write someone, describing who you were and when you met? Plus, how could an editor (or agent) keep track of all the cards they undoubtedly have foisted upon them during a weekend-long conference???
Anyway, maybe I'm being dumb, but unless I come upon a blog post or tweet from a respected agent or editor regarding how much they love being able to collect writers' business cards at conferences, I'm still opting out. Because it's never been hard to find the friends I meet at conferences online, and, if they ask, I can always write my info on the back of one of their cards and pass it back to them.
Sure, they're great for networking purposes, but that's for networking with other writers, not agents or editors. I've never had an agent or editor ask for a card. If I had, this wouldn't be an issue--I'd have gotten those puppies printed while I was still *at* the conference and begun handing them out while they were still hot out of the laser printer. And that's not to say editors haven't kinda-sorta expressed interest in me at conferences, either. Two editors sent me free books in the mail after the conferences I've been to. Much better than trading cards! As best I recall, I was told to email my information when I got home. And I can understand that--I mean, if you're a writer, shouldn't you be able to write someone, describing who you were and when you met? Plus, how could an editor (or agent) keep track of all the cards they undoubtedly have foisted upon them during a weekend-long conference???
Anyway, maybe I'm being dumb, but unless I come upon a blog post or tweet from a respected agent or editor regarding how much they love being able to collect writers' business cards at conferences, I'm still opting out. Because it's never been hard to find the friends I meet at conferences online, and, if they ask, I can always write my info on the back of one of their cards and pass it back to them.
Monday, January 11, 2010
yesterday
* Small talk with gang members.
* Fog-machine-infused baby grand pianos.
* Dropped-lollipop secret service agents.
I love Disneyland!!! Can't put a price on that much people-watching in one day, either. : )
* Fog-machine-infused baby grand pianos.
* Dropped-lollipop secret service agents.
I love Disneyland!!! Can't put a price on that much people-watching in one day, either. : )
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