Behind The Book Loveyoubye

The following essay was published in “She Writes,” a community, virtual workplace, and emerging marketplace for women who write, with over 20,000 active members from all 50 states and more than 30 countries.

By the time I was ready to submit my memoir, Loveyoubye, for publication I was already burned out from my efforts to get my two YA African-based novels, Monkey’s Wedding and Mine Dances, published. A real sob story that one. At the last moment my publisher merged with another house and I was dumped. This was during all the changes taking place in the publishing industry, along with the advent of vampire and teen fantasies.

My agent and I parted company and I launched back into the fray to get published. But then my husband started disappearing for weeks at a time and I threw myself into writing Loveyoubye to try to make sense of it all. After I finished the book, I went through the whole rigmarole of querying again and got a few nibbles. But it was only after I was rejected by a well known agent, a solid recommendation (which assured me of at least a fair chance)—“the writing is excellent, but it would be a tough sell in today’s publishing climate”—that I decided to check out other publishing options.

As I’m sure anyone who has researched alternatives to traditional publishing knows it’s a mind-boggling, soul sucking process. Even the terms given to the various available options are confusing. Literary agent Jane Friedman breaks it down to “Partnership,” “Fully-Assisted,” “DIY + Distributor” and “DIY Direct,” while others contend that overall there are only two options: “Subsidy” and “Self-Publishing.” The more I researched the more frustrated and discouraged I became. The “subsidy/partnership/fully-assisted” publishing services were either too expensive, or in the case of Windy City, who published a friend’s book, very expensive plus they did a bad editing job.

And as for self-publishing. I’d read every how-to book I could get my hands on as well as all those online guides. I knew that if I set my mind to it, I could do it. But honestly, I really didn’t want to. The whole proposition made me want to take up drinking the hard stuff. And then there was the stigma attached to self-published books because of the generally poor quality of the writing/editing, along with the fact that unless you’re a marketing maniac like Amanda Hocking, et al, most self-pubbed books don’t have a long shelf life. I didn’t want to be another Wile E. Coyote charging over the cliff, beep-beeping all the way to the bottom of the canyon floor.

So while I agonized over which path to take, I had Loveyoubye professionally edited. Whatever I ended up doing, I wanted to make sure I started out with a scoured and polished manuscript. I chose Thomas White, a recommended professional editor and Pushcart nominee, who not only helped me tighten and clarify, he asked all those questions my mentor and other readers hadn’t; he made me dig clear down to my toes.

Enter She Writes Press. Something a little different. Although it called itself Partnership Publishing, SWP vetted submissions. That’s a biggie. It took three months for me to decide to sign. Still hoping for a publisher on a white horse to come galloping along with a huge advance in hand? Probably. But the fact of the matter is I needed to move forward, a big theme in my book. So I signed. Decision made. And then it struck me. I had committed to having my heart, guts and soul laid out in print. The final step forward.

In tailoring my essay as to how I made the decision to publish with SWP, I didn’t mention the recently added bonus of having Ingram Publishing Services come on board as SWP’s distributor. They usually only handle traditional publishers. It was a coup for SWP. And a coup for me. Now I’ll have a sales force behind me, as well as become eligible for reviews by Publisher’s Weekly, and similar outlets that normally don’t review “partnership” or self-published books. Loveyoubye will be coming out in March 2014. 

A Celebration for A Place of Women

It’s Celebrate The Small Things Day. Something I’ve achieved each week, no matter how small. If you’re interested in doing the same thing sign up here at Vicki’s blog. And once again, it’s a biggie I’m celebrating. And it hasn’t even happened yet!

On Monday, I will reconnect with a group of women writers I met on Facebook last year. It all started when Deborah Batterman, the New York founder of the group mentioned that  she was flying to Los Angeles to visit her daughter, how about meeting in person. And just like that, five of us headed for an agreed upon meeting place, a restaurant in Santa Barbara. This was a 150-mile journey for me. You can read all about it here. That’s us above with the waiter.

Same deal, only this time we’re meeting at the Aroma Coffee and Tea Company in Studio City, near Hollywood. And this time, instead of just looking forward to meeting women I admire, I will savor every single moment I get to spend with them. To paraphrase Judith Duerk from her book, “Circle of Stones,” I will rejoice in that place of women where I am sustained and steadied.

Something To Celebrate

It’s Celebrate The Small Things Day. Something I’ve achieved each week, no matter how small. If you’re interested in doing the same thing sign up here at Vicki’s blog.

So I finally sent that essay to L.A. Times Affairs, a first-person column in the Los Angeles Times chronicling romance and relationships. They want stories grounded in the present with a strong sense of place, rooted in Southern California.

I crafted the essay from my memoir, Loveyoubye. It’s a big scene, one I’ve been working on for awhile. The only thing is, it’s kind of a mixed bag sending it now instead of after Loveyoubye is published, which would allow me to give interested readers a link to buy the book. But according to my editor it’s a good idea to build interest before the book comes out as well. So I’m going with that and holding my thumbs that my piece gets published. My American friends, if you would cross your fingers for me, I would truly appreciate it.

One Week Later

I’ve got to tell you, not having to blog every day is not a good thing. It was a relief for the first couple of days and then I lost track of time, and here it is already an entire week since I last blogged! I’m realizing that I need to blog, it forces me to stay focused and to think on my feet; it forces me to extend myself, to move beyond my writing insecurities. But the thing is, I really do need to get my YA novel Monkey’s Wedding ready for publication.

And now that I’m in there with fresh eyes after finishing my memoir, Loveyoubye, and all my blogging adventures–which really gave me a handle on immediacy and brevity–I’m seeing flaws I hadn’t noticed before. There’s that information download on the third page, that I can parse in later, that labored description of one of the characters. And then worst of all, a time issue. A time issue! After all my plotting, all those charts. Well, it’s a good thing I love to edit.

 

Hooray!

Last day of my June blogathon. I was going to head into another one, but instead I’m going to focus on getting my young adult novel, Monkey’s Wedding, edited and published. Again. I’m embarrassed to report. One of the things I’ve vowed to do to make this happen is to seriously limit my forays onto the web: that tempting daily headline on my home page–CNN Top Stories–The Daily Beast, all those emails with social media tips, writing contests, words of inspiration, writing prompts, Narrative Online Magazine. Facebook is a whole other rabbit hole of distraction.

Adam Gazzaley, a neuroscientist  at the University of California, San Francisco contends that our brains are adapting to handle the many inputs of digital stimulation. Not my brain. I thought perhaps I had Attention Deficit Disorder–something I’d wondered about before because of my hyperactive mind. Maybe some drugs could fix the problem? But then I researched the symptoms and checked with a psychologist friend of mine. Nope. I’m just not the amazing multi-tasker I used to be nor as focused. So, even though I have gained a certain immediacy through blogging, a boldness if you will, and confidence, I’m heading for my friend’s mountain cabin for some serious focus-time.

But I shall be blogging as often as I can, because I’ve grown to love it.

 

 

Celebratin’

It’s Celebrate The Small Things Day. Something I’ve achieved each week, no matter how small. If you’re interested in doing the same thing sign up here at Vicki’s blog.

Two things I want to celebrate today. The first is that I’m at the end of my June blogging stint. The End. Done. Klaar. Finito. Termine. There’s even a drawing for prizes. Bonus! Actually, the bonus is I’m discovering that the more I blog, the less I worry about what to say and how I’m coming across. And how about them haikus? See that? I learned something new.

The second thing I want to celebrate is that I’m finally digging a hole for my little lemon tree. It’s supposed to be twice as deep and twice as wide as the pot, this means 20″x 20″. Do you know how frickin’ hard that is in ground that feels like cement four inches down?  With the sun blazing above? But hey, nobody can accuse me of letting a little thing like cement-ground deter me; I’ll get it done if it takes digging the rest of the hole with an ice pick. This is the woman who pick-axed the roots of a stand of dying bamboo–bamboo, people!–in this 12×5 foot plot then sat with a hand-hoe and removed each root until the were removed.

Misc 027

 

Sawdust Celebration Tonight

Tonight I’m off to the Sawdust Festival’s opening night celebrations. This is an artist’s venue a block from my house down Laguna Canyon Road, where they sell everything from jewelry to iron sculpture to ceramics, clothing, paintings, blown glass, even tiny little ceramic and cloth fairies. There’s also music and dancing on the stage by the water wheel. It’s an invitation-only affair and the sawdust-covered grounds are always packed to the rafters  cedar fence.

From ’82 through ’86, my ex and I used to sell our ceramic creations at the Sawdust. Mine consisted of hand-built fish, vases, wall plaques and flowers, while he had his pots, plates, bowls and cups. We made, glazed and fired all this while working full-time. Of course it was only for the summer, but those were eighteen-hour days. We also did the Westwood Festival in Los Angeles during Christmas. It was an exciting and heady time. And exhausting. It about killed us. I hurt my back and his already gimpy shoulder gave out. He continued for a while then gave it up. I began writing.

So these days I head down to the Sawdust to visit friends’ booths, see what’s new, drink some wine, have a delicious gyro at the Greek booth and dance.