Self-pitying tosh

I think the following can be put into this category.  As I rightly recognised in the last post, I have too many projects to think clearly, and I think the reason I have so many projects is because my brain is trying to protect me from the feelings of utter misery and despair about my future as a writer, while at the same time preventing me from getting on with anything..

Now, unlike some people who want to be writers, I can write well, I have a reasonable amount of insight into the human condition, and the persistence to get it down on paper .  I have written 4 novels in the last 6 years and chunks of other stuff, including the ill-fated Ransome series Pah!   I have done all the things they say you have to do, I have even paid for editorial advice and editing, I have had rave rejections for my first two novels, yet I cannot get any interest in The Malice of Fairies.. I am getting nothing but the standard brush offs...no rave rejections, no requests for full reads.   I know this is the second phase, post editing etc. and perhaps I should treat it as a the real beginning.  Perhaps I should be more patient, but I cannot help becoming very discouraged.

I have been grown up about this for a long time, I have been realistic, I have been sensible.  But I really thought this was the novel that would make agents catch fire...All the efforts I have made to promote it (well, as many as I felt I could get away with without everyone getting sickened by it).  If all feels pretty futile.

But then again, 10, mostly N. American, agents, have still got it.  There's hope. And there are plenty more to apply to.  I suppose one has these phases of discouragement from time to time.   But let me run through my fears - that my work is too same-old, same-old to be a cutting edge literary novel, that my writing is better than my story-telling, that my work is too "clever" to be widely commercial,  that I have no sense of popular taste, that my age is against me (not that that gets written on submissions.) but that I am somehow beyond the culture.


Some of this misery is clearly connected with my over inflated excitement/expectation about the novel - but everyone has enjoyed it, praised it (all 4 of them) and since 2 of the readers are professional writers/editors then one does tend to take it more seriously. Perhaps if I had had lower expectations for it, I wouldn't feel so awful now.  But a part of me felt that if I wasn't utterly wholehearted about it, neither would anyone else be. so I have to carry on brightly cheery and perky about it. Nevertheless, I am feeling unlucky.  I don't really know if I believe in luck, I certainly haven't had an enormous amount of it lately. I ought to have more faith really, and just think that for everything there is a season, and this is just not my season yet. The fact is, everyone says, if you have talent and work hard you will succeed... humph, the people who haven't succeeded are curiously silent on the fact. Reluctantly, I have come to believe in astrology - although it's not foolproof, and some of the astrologers interpret things in a weird way.   Take the Mars retrograde... a lot of people say everything will slow down, low energy etc. nothing much will happen, or alternatively there's this:


Perhaps there's something in it, the decline in competition and forward urge may give one the chance to re-charge one's batteries, and rest up a bit, and deal with oneself, rather than worrying about the "competition".  Which in my case is the other million wannabe novelists who are putting their work into the agents. People always say writers aren't in competition with each other - but I think that's bunk.   The fact is, all these other wanabees are clogging up the agents intrays and preventing them from spending more time on MY submissions.  And there are only so many people getting published each year, only so many slots at the publishers.  So, yes, inevitably there is a sense of competition.    But we can all take a back seat, and preen ourselves into a state of glossy awesomeness..

Another factor in my discontent is probably my impatiience, I want something to happen NOW.  Because it's feels like it's around for a long time.   If I were prepared to take a long term view - that the book will be published, just not yet...it might be easier.

"On submission"

There is a terrible emptiness that comes over me once a novel has been completed and has gone out to be submitted.  An emptiness somewhat exacerbated by the fact that people are not hammering on my door and demanding full reads.  

My brain is over-compensating by giving me three different ideas for a novel simultaneously.   Firstly there's Beastly Betty the reworking of Balzac's Cousin Bette, I bashed out a thousand words of that, I was setting it in the 1950's, so there was the same sort of post-war reverence for the war leader - it is set in London of course.   Then I realised I needed to be really thoroughly immersed in the book for it to come easily...
The second idea - which I have done a fair bit of work on is The Dog-Walkers' Book Club - a story of life in a seaside town with gaslighting and stalking and deceit and secrets.    Finally, inspired by my visit to Barfrestone, I began writing a short story, which expanded towards a radio play, which I now think might make a novel.  The novel would be a 3-stranded work - linking Queen Bertha of Kent with some nasty medieval masons who are still worshiping the old gods in the 12th Century (not unfeasible) and some modern antiquarians who are trying to understand why this church is so EVIL.

As a result of these ideas, and the need to re-write The Ash Grove  and perhaps get a screenplay for TMOF, my brain is far too busy to actually write.   Oh, and of course, I have nearly completed Other Agents May Feel Differently a short guide to submission and rejections.

Miscellaneous writings 1

April 2016

At this age one's fantasies change.  I don't imagine having chance romantic encounters.  My fantasy is about driving to a pub that's off the beaten track and meeting by chance a long lost old friend, and having a long, warm, deep conversation with him (yes, it's a him); that middle-aged "What do you think of the show so far?" conversation.

Sadly this pub is bereft of such an encounter, but it has a lot of young couples having dinner together, well three.  It's a very nice pub, full of period charm and cream, verdigris and moss green paint; very Farrow and Ball.

I now realise that the glorious chords of harp music are actually someone's mobile.  It's very tasteful.

The food arrives and smells gorgeous, and this, with a glass of Chablis is not going to cost more than the cinema ticket, glass of wine and average sarni I would have had at the Gulbenkian.

As I sit here I think about the new novel idea.  I have three ideas on the go at the moment, and I have a lot of ideas for this one, The Dog-Walkers' Book Club.  I know too very angry and bitter women, both of whom are also intermittently charming and friendly.  Neither of them can stand too much kindness and need to be put into the book. Both of them sting like scorpions when they have had enough of your kindness and are capable of turning people against you.  I recently had a conversation with a man I know slightly, explaining why he had never been especially friendly to me.  I do wonder how many people are wandering around thinking I am a complete bitch.  I suppose when they meet me and find me agreeable, they have to downgrade their assessment from "utter bitch" to merely "two-faced".  

I have also been thinking about the saintly woman with the epileptic child - she could be inserted into this too.  Maybe I should write it as a series of stories from each character's POV.  No doubt there will be more thoughts to come on this.

What happened about that publisher?

Ah yes, there was the promise of a "strong recommendation" to a publisher.   Well, she backtracked, but for a good reason.  The publisher under discussion has a tricky habit of acquiring your world rights and then not exploiting them... so you could have a bestseller in Ireland, but the rest of the world would remain ignorant of you.  This happened to a friend of mine... so it was decided that I would try and get some other, more reasonable, publishers to take an interest.  There are several small Irish publishers that will look at unagented books, and there are only about six agents there, of which only one is really active, i.e. has a website and an email address, two of the others have email addresses, the rest are wedded to snail mail.   So much for the Celtic Tiger - more like the Celtic Carrier Pigeon.   Sorry, not being rude, perhaps all that sort of development got stalled in the crash of 2008.  The Irish were terribly stymied after that, and are really only just recovering.  Besides, that sort of personal, quite intimate business model works well in a small country where there are only a couple of degrees of separation between people.

Same old same old.

Yes, that's a really enticing title for a blog post isn't it, chums?

The results of my last batch of submissions are as follows  Answer pending: 3,  Rapid rejection: 1.  and one silent rejection.   The RR was welcome, "not for me... wish you well"... in other words the "Other Agents may think Differently" letter.  I also received a rejection from a November 2015 submission - which said  "it just wasn't exactly what I was looking for" which gives the comforting (or distressing) impression that if I'd moved the plot a couple of inches to the left I might have hooked her.

It is important to remember that the agents who spend the most time on social media are not necessarily the Best Agents - just the ones who are perhaps more egotistical... of course that could make them great agents if they have taken your MS to heart.   They are however, likely to be the agents who respond most slowly. I do appreciate the quick rejection, almost as much as a request for a full read.   No hanging around hoping.

Yesterday I sent out another batch, two to US agents, one to a UK agent.  I think the 6 week period of grace required by Mulcahy is a bit unrealistic in this world.  They had two weeks of near solitary enjoyment of my presence in their slush pile - (the other agent I sent it to did the silent rejection on me.) so now they are in fierce competition to ignore it with another UK agent, and there will be more.

Weirdly I was encouraged by this You Tube video - Piers Blofeld (related to Henry?) is an agent who makes occasional videos about publishing and agenting matters.  I saw them all, and particularly enjoyed this one, since it is germane to my situation.   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aduzco1VJZE   He goes through why he will reject a handful of MSS - and I realised why TRF probably didn't pass the "So what?" test with a lot of agents.  It's only a few minutes, but it's enlightening.