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Allison



Last Updated: 3/17/2008

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Gender: Female
Status: Married
Age: 36
Sign: Gemini

City: NEW YORK
State: NEW YORK
Country: US
Signup Date: 5/29/2006

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Thursday, October 12, 2006 

As always, a few recent posts from Ask Allison:

I wrote what I thought was a great story for a new-to-me magazine. The editor seemed happy, and I didn't have that many rewrites. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to get another assignment out of her. What am I doing wrong?

The short answer? Probably nothing.

The long answer? It can take years to develop strong relationships with your editors, but it sounds, at least to me, that you're off to a good start. One of the key ingredients in being a successful freelance writer is patience. Patience when it comes to breaking in to a magazine, patience when it comes to seeing that story in print, patience when it comes to landing a repeat assignment, patience when it comes to FINALLY have editors bring story ideas to you, not vice versa. So, at the risk of sounding trite, be patient.

Here's one example from my experience: a senior editor at a huge magazine saw one of my articles and called me. Asked me to send in some clips, along with story ideas. I was over the moon. This was a dream magazine, and one to which I'd subscribed since the dawn of time. So I sent everything that she requested. Ideas didn't fly. Sent more. Still didn't fly. Repeat, repeat, repeat. THREE YEARS later - I kid you not - I was still sending in ideas. She left to tackle a new position at a different magazine. Guess what? She called me when she landed there and promptly assigned me three stories. I'm still writing for both her and the magazine today. Oh, and I DID eventually manage to break into the other magazine too...another year down the road. Yes, that's FOUR YEARS of pitching until I found success. But the key here is that I took the time(or dealt with the time) to really cultivate a relationship with the editor, and it did pay off in the end.

So...back to you. Keep sending this editor ideas, even if they're near-misses, even if they don't pan out. Chances are, she now knows that you're a strong writer, she just needs the perfect story idea from you. Other ways that you can impress her: don't be needy, clingy, whiny or pushy. I can't tell you how many editors have told me that these above characteristics (even if they're subtle) turn them off. Do be flexible, easy-going, thorough and amiable: while I don't mistake my relationships with my editors for true friendships, in fact, many of them are my friends - I know what they like to watch on TV, I know tidbits about their personal lives, I know some of their quirks and funky habits. And they know mine. But that's because over the years, they opened up to me, and I did to them...just as would happen in nearly any other relationship. But, it takes time. I mean, you don't blurt out certain things on a first date, and you don't blurt out certain things when you're still proving yourself to an editor. But once you've proven yourself (see above paragraph), DO take the time out to get to know them as people, not just drones who tweak your writing. Not only might this pay off in repeat assignments, even better, it might mean that you'll enjoy the process a whole lot more. I know that I adore working for the editors with whom I've become friends...and I'm pretty sure that they feel the same way.

Any other tips on nailing repeats from editors?
 
******
 
What if you have an idea for an article that you absolutely love. You write the query and there really are no bites but you firmly believe it is a good idea. Do you re-write the pitch? Is it bad form to resend a rewritten pitch to an editor who had not responded the first time around? Should you go the extra mile and write the article?

Let's answer the last question first. No - writing the article isn't going the extra mile; it's shooting yourself in the foot. You should never, ever write the article before it's assigned (travel pieces and essays are exceptions). It's the mark of a newbie: an editor wants to shape the story idea and thus the story from the get-go. If you've already done this, you've taken her out of the equation and not only limited the potential scope of the piece, but also limited the market and readers to whom it might appeal. DON'T DO IT.

Okay, with that out of the way, let's talk about persistence and how to go about this. Nearly every established freelance writer I know has been in this position. You have a jewel of an idea - you shop it around - you keep shopping it around - you shop it around some more - and still...no one bites. Sigh. In fact, I'm dealing with this very thing right now. It totally sucks. But you already know that since you asked the question.

There are a couple ways to handle this:

1) Shelve the idea until it becomes more topical. For example, my query deals with breast cancer. Most women's magazines cover BC in October, which is breast cancer awareness month. And, I discovered, most of them don't necessarily tackle many BC stories during other months of the year. (This is a sweeping generalization, but for the most part, it's true.) So...my story came close to getting bites for this year's Oct issues, but nothing happened. And the best thing for me to do is probably to sit tight, knowing that I still have a great nugget of an idea, and repitch it this Feb or March, which is around when mags will assign Oct ideas. So, even if your idea isn't about breast cancer, it might be seasonal or might be better suited to certain world events, I dunno, but you might want to think about setting it aside until it's more timely.

2) You could rewrite the pitch, but if you rewrite it, I wouldn't just reword it, I would reangle it. Chances are, your editor didn't shoot it down because she didn't like the way your query paragraphs read; she shot it down because the story angle didn't work for her. Sometimes, if you're lucky, the editor will come back to you and say, "Hey, this idea on how to save money doesn't quite gel for me, but what about this way of thinking about it?" Most often though, you're left to develop the new angle on your own. One of my editors once told me to try to make my queries as counter-intuitive as possible...as in, okay, we're going to cover the same subjects over and over again, we already admit t that, but can you approach it in a rarely-considered way? Can you take an almost backwards approach to the idea? It's really hard to do this, but if you can, you might be able to recapture an editor's attention.

3) You could also repitch the editor to whom you originally sent. I don't know if you'll have a ton of luck, but certainly, things slip through the cracks and slip even easier through in-boxes. Or double-check to be sure that you sent it to the correct editor in the first place. Call up the mag and ask. If you didn't, aim for a new editor.

4) Expand your potential markets. Look, if you really believe in your story and want it to be told, period, then get thee to Barnes and Noble or to google or even to Writer's Market and try to unearth new-to-you magazines and outlets. The piece doesn't have to be published in a magazine with a 2 million circulation to be of value...or to be sharply-written and edited. For example, a lot of parenting writers query Parents and Parenting. But these mags don't necessarily take edgy, science-y stories. So if you have a more off-beat piece, maybe you should lob in a query to Brain, Child, which isn't nearly as popular, circulation-wise, but certainly is an excellent publication.

So those are my thoughts. I know that there are a ton of writers out there who have struggled to place a stellar story idea, and I'm sure that I'm missing some tips. Want to add in your own?
Friday, September 29, 2006 

(Once again, I'm posting some highlights from the past few weeks  For more, check out http://allisonwinnscotch.blogspot.com.)

I was wondering how long it took to sell your book from the time your agent sent it out to when it sold. Also, how often were you talking to your agent during this process? Would you mind sharing?

Happy to share. Officially, it took ten days. Unofficially, it took a little longer. Why? Because my agent was savvy. The ms was ready to go toward mid-December, but she didn't want to send it out during the dead period of the holidays. So what she did instead was call all of the editors who were on her list a few days before they left for their vacation, telling them that it would land on their desks on Jan 3rd, the first day they were back. Her enthusiasm must have transfered over the telephone line because a few editors requested a sneak peek, which meant that they toted it home with them over the Christmas holiday. So by the time everyone got back to their offices and cracked open the ms, we already had a few requests for second reads and a lot of positive feedback. Which meant that all of the other editors, who might normally have tucked the ms at the bottom of their bags and gotten to it when they got to it, read it within a few days. Thus, we had four offers about a week later.

Keep in mind, however, that there really isn't a set timeline for how quickly a ms should or will sell. I remember reading that Meghan Daum's The Quality of Life Report sold in, like, a day (seriously!), and that James Frey's A Million Little Pieces (I know, I know) was rejected by 13 imprints before Nan Talese made an offer. Whatever you think of Frey and his book, it's still an example that it only takes ONE offer, and that offer might be the first or last one you get. Who cares, really? As long as it's an offer.

As far as how much contact I had with my agent during the submission process, well, I had a lot, which I think I've mentioned on the blog before. We emailed or spoke on the phone every day, even if it were only for her to calm my nerves. But again, this will vary. I chose my agent in part because I liked her collaborative approach: I'm a hands-on type of gal, so it was important to me that a) my agent knew this and b) she was cool with my involvement. She was and she still is. We still talk fairly often, whether it's about the cover art or film rights or whatever. If you're on the agent hunt and want to be more actively involved, ASK your agent HOW she feels about this. If you don't, and you find yourself shut out, you really can't complain much.

Any other authors out there want to share their own timelines?

****

You had mentioned not wanting to burn bridges with editors when freelancing. Have you ever found yourself just not clicking with an editor? Do you try to win them over or just move on? Have you ever ended up in "hot water" or pissing off an editor? I know that there are many different personalities in magazines and sometimes egos can get a little bit big. Do you have any stories from the trenches?

A few caveats before I answer this question. :) First, I've mentioned this before, but I think that often times, writers take things far too personally, and many of us need to develop thicker skins. I definitely know writers who have issues with *a lot* of editors, and I think if you consistently run into problems or are constantly griping about editors, then you should probably do a little self-evaluation. After all, everyone can't be wrong but you. Right? Second, I'm a pretty easy-going person: it takes a lot to ruffle my feathers and chap my hide. A lot. Which I think is part of the reason that editors like working with me - you're not going to hear me complain about much, not because I'm a doormat but because most things really don't bother me to the point of complaining. SO. If I've put an editor on my black list, I probably have a pretty good reason to. And yes, I do have a black list. Third, I want to note that savvy editors - and I work with plenty of them - take your work and enhance it: they push you to be a better writer and a better reporter, and with their help, you can draw out a bang-up article. I have a lot respect for my editors, and I've learned even more from them over the years than they probably realize.

All of this said, certainly, there are both editors and magazines who are easier to work with than others. Many of the women's magazines edit by committee, which means that you get comments back from not just your direct editor, but three or four others as well. Which doesn't necessarily make it more complicated, but certainly CAN make it more complicated. But on the other hand, some of my women's mag editors are dolls, and I'd never give up writing for them.

These days, I'm in the very fortunate position of now being able to pick and choose whom I write for. Specifically, I've axed off all of the pain-in-the-ass editors or magazines who weren't worth my time (or money). But it wasn't always this way. For the first few years of my career, I pitched anyone and everyone and accepted everything that came into my inbox. Thus, yes, I have a few stories from the trenches. I'll post one today and one on next week. Both are good examples of knowing your limits and learning from your mistakes so you don't fall into the same traps the next time out.

Story Number Uno:
I was a very green freelancer and just landed one of my first national assignments. I was ELATED. Big time magazine that I also happened to subscribe to. Yahoo, right? Not so fast. I got the go-ahead call from the editor, only it wasn't quite a go-ahead call. What she wanted instead was for me to draft half of the story on spec, under the guise of "they've never seen me write anything like this before and wanted to make sure that I could do it." Now, what's spec, you ask? Spec is when you write a piece for no money, and then the editor gets to decide if she wants to pay you for it. (Sort of like if someone painted your house, and then you decided whether or not you felt like paying them for it. Seems fair, right? Only not.) I adamantly disagree with writing ANYTHING on spec, but back then, it seemed like a good idea. After all, I wanted to impress said editor more than anything in my life.

So I drafted about half of the piece for her - did a bunch of interviews and wrote it up just as I would have if I'd had a contract in hand. A few weeks later, I received the official go-ahead call. Yahoo, right? Not so fast. While on the phone, the editor proceeded to tell me how she wanted me to approach the piece and where to take the article, only she told me this in the most ambiguous terms possible, which means she didn't tell me anything about the approach or how to tackle the piece. She literally said at least three times, "I'm not really sure what I'm saying here or what I mean, but YOU know what I mean, right?" To which I replied, "of course I know what you mean," even though I had NO FREAKING IDEA what she meant. How in the hell could I have known what she meant or what she wanted when SHE didn't even know what she meant or what she wanted?? I'm an excellent freelancer; I am not, however, an excellent clairvoyant. When we hung up the phone, I was left with a feeling of total malaise - mostly because the editor had failed to give me any real direction on the story, and I, too intimidated or too stupid, had failed to squeeze anything out of her.

Whatever, I thought. I'm good at this! I'm smart! I don't fail! I'll just do this anyway! And so I did. I wrote what I thought was - and what I still believe to be - a kick-ass story. Cited numerous sources. Culled real life examples. Broke it down exactly as I proposed in my pitch letter. Triple-checked it for grammar. And sent it in.

A month later, said editor called me back. "We're killing your story," she said. "It just didn't work. I can't explain why." Really? Well, no shit! Between your incompetent direction and my cowardice to ask you to actually explain what you wanted, it's no wonder that you weren't pleased. Of course, I didn't say any of this to her. What I said instead was: "I'm mortified, sorry, apologetic, want to kill myself, etc," and then proceeded to never, EVER pitch her again. To this day, I avoid her.

A couple of lessons learned. 1) Always, ALWAYS ask for specific details when getting an assignment. It doesn't make you look dumb; it makes you look smart. Especially when you hand in a story that the editor is pleased with. 2) Learn what is and isn't a fair kill fee. Kill fees are written into your contract: they're a percentage of the total contracted fee that are doled out should the publication ax your story. However, magazines might try hand you a kill fee for terms that have nothing to do with your writing, which isn't kosher: the EIC changed her mind, the story now feels outdated, etc, etc, etc,. In this case, I should have been allowed a rewrite, but it was so clear that the editor had NO idea what she wanted from this piece (in retrospect, this was obvious from the get-go), that she didn't want to salvage it. 3) Snoop around about editors, if possible, before you pitch them. Talk to other writers. Find message boards or writers groups that share info. Turns out that my experience with this editor was not at all unique, and even today, I know plenty of writers who deem her too PIA (pain-in-the-ass) to work with her. And in that same vein, there are plenty of editors who receive good reviews from other writers as well. And trust me, editors are doing the same thing about us.

Years later, I can look back on this and sort of giggle. Sort of. At the time, however, it was horrifying. Simply horrifying. But you know what? In the scheme of things, it didn't matter much. So what if one editor thought my story sucked? I happen to be one writer who thought that SHE sucked, so we were even. And hey, good lessons were learned along the way. Which I can now pass on to you. :)
 
****
Thanks for sharing your story on how you left your first agent. I'm curious: how did you have the guts to do it? I'm contemplating doing the same thing, but I can't seem to work up the nerve to do so. What was your deal-breaker?

Well, I'll start by saying that I'm not the type of person who likes to linger in murky situations (actually, who does?), so I'm usually pretty proactive about resolving them. But even if you're NOT this type of person, it would serve you well to strap on an alter ego and have a frank conversation with your agent. I don't know the specifics of your particular situation, but I can share the specifics of mine, and maybe that will help.

As I've mentioned before, my first ms failed to sell. We got a lot of positive feedback and some requests for rewrites, but my agent thought it would be more prudent to ditch book #1 and just write #2. So I did: in a matter of months, I wrote what would become TDLF. When I handed in the first draft, she didn't love it, and we had our first "where is this relationship going" conversation. In that conversation, we agreed that I'd revise the ms, and if she still wasn't happy with it (or if I disagreed with her assessment), we'd amicably part ways. But looking back, it seems clear that even at this stage, the bloom was slightly off her rose, in terms of where I now fell on her client priority list. (And I don't say this blamefully: maybe it's a natural reaction, I dunno, I'm not an agent. But if you can't sell someone's work, it's entirely possible that you're just not as gung-ho on them anymore.)

So I got busy revising and handed in a second draft pretty quickly. It took her a really long time to read this version (and respond to my emails), but she finally emailed that she liked this draft much more, or so she told me. I made a few other tweaks, but basically, we were both satisfied - she just wanted to get one last opinion from someone else at her firm. Well, I have no idea what that other person said, but she obviously didn't like the book, because my agent hemmed and hawed until I finally emailed her saying, "I need to know where I stand with you b/c I feel like I'm getting the shaft and being ignored." (Though I said it in much nicer terms.) She responded and apologized, and we agreed to talk the next day.

And in that talk, she admitted that she still wasn't passionate about TDLF, and gave me several options: revise book #1 and go back out with it, write an entirely new book, or try to find new representation for TDLF. We all know which option I chose.

So why did I walk away? My agent was perfectly nice, but the bottom line was that I think, to quote
Kristin Nelson's blog from last week, "she'd lost that loving feeling." She was trigger-shy after not selling my first book, and now doubted my writing and perhaps her ability to sell my writing. She didn't say any of this, but it seemed obvious: my emails and phone calls got shelved, she took longer to read my revisions, and her enthusiasm in general just seemed to wane. (For example, she made it clear that TDLF wasn't, in her opinion, a hardcover book...which was sort of her way of saying that she didn't think it was as strong as book #1, which she did deem hardcover-worthy.) Now, I harbor no ill will toward her, and I wish her much success. This was just a case of two people reaching a crossroads and recognizing that we'd gone as far as we could go with each other.

So I'd urge you to consider this when deciding whether or not to leave your current agent. Is she still a champion of your work? Will she push just as hard for you and your writing as she would have in the past? Have you had any previous success with her? Is she still giving you the attention you feel like you deserve? (And yes, you do deserve it. She might be the agent, but she works for you. Period.)

In my case, the answers to all of the above questions were resounding "nos," and it was clear that I needed to move on, scary as it was. Mostly, I found it exhilarating. I knew that my agent had lost enthusiasm, and I really looked forward to finding someone who believed in my work as much as I did. And I'm fortunate that I did. Let's put it this way: if my current agent told me that she didn't love my WIP or didn't think she could sell it, I'd never consider leaving her. I'd either work with her to revamp the WIP or I'd start something fresh. That's how much I trust her. And that's how much I know she's in my corner. If you don't get the sense that your agent is 100% in your corner, you're going into the ring without proper protection, and you're likely to get pummeled. It's time to get out.

Anyone else out there ditched their agent? Or repaired a potentially broken agent-client relationship and had it work out positively?
 
(So those are three posts from the past few weeks - I try to update the blogger site daily, so there's a lot more to be found there...)
Friday, August 25, 2006 
(Once again, I'm posting a highlight from the week.  For more, check out http://allisonwinnscotch.blogspot.com.)
 
I've gotten so many questions in about queries - how to write them, common mistakes, proper etiquette - that I decided to go right to the source, namely, some of my favorite editors. I promised them anonymity, but let's just say that these guys are the cream of the crop: every one of them works at a top tier magazine that you see front and center at a newsstand. They took the time to jot down their dos and don'ts. Take note. You won't often have the luxury of peering inside an editor's brain.

Do Flesh Out Your Query. "My 2 cents is that freelancers worry so much about their queries, and they should worry about their ideas, which are generally lame. 95% of the ideas I get are generic, evergreen, lack sourcing and are too narrow. Make that 99%. So to be honest it doesn't matter how great the letter is -- the idea needs to be better developed." Says another editor: "If you have a genius idea, I don't care if you write it on a dirty cocktail napkin or leave it on my voicemail or send a three sentence e-mail...I just want it. In other words, if the idea ain't great, it doesn't matter how perfect the pitch is...."

Do Read The Freakin' Magazine First! "My biggest pet peeve, whether I'm being queried by a writer or a publicist, is when it's obvious she doesn't read the magazine. For example, I get a million pitches about women starting their own businesses -- great, but a topic we simply don't cover and never have -- which the person would know if she read the magazine once or twice. Perhaps I'm the only one, but when I get a pitch like this I'll automatically disregard every bit of correspondence from the writer forever thereafter. It's my little way of protesting against people who waste my time." This editor isn't the only one to say this. Another echoes this same peeve: "When a writer who's pitching me isn't familiar with the magazine (i.e., pitches a story we'd never run, pitches a story we ran in the last issue, doesn't pitch to a specific department, pitches to a department we don't even have, etc.). If you're going to pitch, sit down with at least three past issues of the magazine and get to know it before you e-mail me." And finally, yet another one wants you to be even more thorough: "Go to the NY public library and read a year's worth of back issues before you pitch."

"Do think about where in the magazine the story will go. Is it a department? An FOB short? If you can't find a home for it, I probably won't be able to either."

"Do consider how you'll package it. Straight narrative? Bulleted list? Infographic? This is particularly important if you're pitching an FOB item. If it's a service story, give me a short list of possible sources. This will help me judge the likely quality of your research." Another editor agrees: "Do have specific examples/people lined up and have already talked to some key sources."

"Do check in with editors periodically -- you never know when an editor might need your help!"

"Do target a specific section or column and pitch the editor who handles it. Doing both of these things speeds up the process because you've already figured out for the editor where your story fits and why, and you're not waiting for your pitch to get passed along to the appropriate person."

"Do send a few links to your nat'l clips at the bottom of your query. And if you don't have nat'l clips, don't pitch a feature. Despite how great a writer you are, it's just not likely you'll get the assignment before showing us you can handle it by writing shorts. So just pitch shorts. And you might want to write the short you're pitching--not just give me a graf--and wow me so much that I accept it on the spot. This will show me you've done your homework, know what we run, and can write the type of stuff we publish." (Note to readers: Several posts ago, I specifically said not to do this for FOBs, but hey, it works for this editor, so it might work for others! I stand potentially corrected. Just goes to show you: what doesn't work for one editor might work for another!)

"Do a Google search or a Nexis search and find out if your idea (or things like it) has been covered anywhere else, and let the editor know when and where. Just because something was covered doesn't necessarily mean we wouldn't do it to (each publication will put their own spin on it, of course), but if it's a trend item and it was a huge story in the NYTimes or God forbid, a competitors mag, that's bad. It just shows that you took an extra step." (Another note to readers: I've never done this! So I learned something new here today.)

Don't Lob an Airball into a Random Editor. "A major pet peeve is when I get a note saying, 'If you're not the right person for this pitch, please pass it along to whomever is." 99 times out of 100 I pass it along all right -- into the trash. It's the pitcher's job to track down the right person, not mine. It's easy to call a magazine and ask, 'Who edits the travel pieces?'"
Don't Be a Nag. "I hate it when a writer calls over and over to ask if i've gotten the pitch. Calling to check once or even twice is fine, but after that, it should be clear that the editor isn't interested. (And I apologize on behalf of all of us -- in a perfect world editors would have time to respond to every pitch, not just those she's interested in.)"

Don't Take Things Personally. "The editor is working for the reader, not for you. The goal is for everyone to be happy but in this order: 1. Reader, 2. Editor-in-chief, 3. You."

"Don't treat the assistant badly. Be nice to the little people." Before you know it, they'll be the ones assigning. (Note to readers: truer words have never been spoken. I can't tell you how many assistant editors I've befriended. We moved up in the ranks together, and they now feed me work.)

So there you go. A few thoughts from the mouths of people whom really matter.

Does that help? Does that open up more questions?
Wednesday, August 16, 2006 
Once again, I totally suck at updating, but I've been posting daily at http://allisonwinnscotch.blogspot.com.  Check out more questions and answers over there.  For now, here's a post that got a lot of positive feedback:
 
Everyone says that getting your book published is nearly impossible, but I'm curious why. Once you have an agent, shouldn't this be an easy process? Don't they just have to find an editor who likes it too?

Ha! Excuse me while my husband breaks out the defibrillators because I just nearly died laughing.

***insert zapping sounds here****

Okay, now that I've fully (or nearly) recovered, let me explain how the process works, taking you from pitch to (hopefully) sale. Sure, to answer your first question: having an agent helps. No doubt. Without an agent, you're swimming upstream and likely to drown. With an agent, you're lucky enough to be in a boat, but you're still heading upstream, and who knows if your boat has paddles. Which is to say, that representation aside, selling your book is still damn hard. Here's why.

Once your agent deems the ms ready to go out, she (or he) compiles a list of editors whom she suspects will adore your book. She calls them and pitches the book. Some of these editors might not adore your book at the very sound of the premise and will decline the ms, but most - if your agent has done her homework - will say, "send it on over. I wait with baited breath." So she sends it on over within the next few days.

From there, you'll wait anywhere from several days to several months for feedback. The rate at which you hear answers largely depends on a) how well your agent pitched the book (i.e, if they're frothing at the mouth, they'll most likely read it asap) and b) how much other interest is generated and how quickly that comes in. For example: when we sold TDLF (The Department of Lost and Found, my novel, for newbies), we were lucky enough to have a few editors request a sneak peek over the Christmas holidays, and when everyone returned to their desks on January 3, we already had really positive feedback. You can bet your butt that my agent was then on the phone letting all of the other editors know this...which meant that everyone else read within a week.

Regardless of when your ms gets read, if the initial editor likes it, that's just the first step. Getting published is not unlike a hurdle race: you have to jump over a hell of a lot of them before you reach the finish line. From there, this editor sends it to 2-4 (on average) "second reads:" other editors at her imprint who have to agree with her enthusiasm in order for the book to move on. Additionally, if this editor is a hardcover editor, she needs to get the paperback editor to adore the book as well. (Though the paperback editor might also be one of the second readers.) So...as of now, we have anywhere from say, 3-5 people who all have to greet your book with unbridled passion. Don't believe me? Here's an example: we got a very positive first read from an editor at a huge imprint at a huge house. From the get-go, both my agent and I thought she'd be perfect. Her second reader agreed. Her third reader agree. Her fourth reader, "liked it, but found it a little depressing." Guess what? Ding! The buck stopped there. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.


Okay, but assuming all of the second reads fawn and flutter over your ms, what happens next? An offer, right? Nope. From there, the ms or concept (as well as your platform - remember, we discussed this last week?) is run by marketing, who assess how likely your book is to actually sell and if it will sell, how well it will sell. If you've written about a lesbian Eskimo who decides to venture to the mainland and have a sex change, and marketing decides that no one wants to read the saga of a lesbian Eskimo who decides to venture to the mainland and have a sex change, then...ding! After all, money talks in this industry. (You might not actually know that they've dinged you immediately, however, because - and I'm not 100% clear on this - I believe that the marketing team presents their opinions at...the all important acquisition meeting, which we're moving on to below.)

So...now, we're up to what? At least half a dozen folks who have to be smitten with the book. See how this gets tricky? And now, we're into the all important acquisition meeting. You've cleared all the aforementioned hurdles, and this is where the original editor lobbies to buy the book. Should be a breeze, right? Ah, not so much. See, publishers only buy so many books and they only have so much money to spend, so they literally go in front of their peers and argue why the imprint must. have. this. book. now. If this editor is armed with strong second reads and positive marketing feedback, she'll likely get the green light. But not always. Again, real life example. A few days before my offer deadline (the day that my agent had set for all offers to be on the table), one editor insisted on calling me to "woo me" to her imprint. She was rabid for the book. Her second readers backed her up. Marketing was on board. Slam dunk. My agent was hesitant - normally, you don't speak with editors until they've decided to definitely offer - but this editor's enthusiasm spoke for itself, so my agent passed her my number. The convo went swimmingly. I was elated - this imprint would be my new home! I was sure of it.

Guess what? Said editor (for whom I harbor no ill-will - this really wasn't her fault!) got into the acquisition meeting and couldn't get her boss - the head of the imprint - to sign off. He "didn't want to publish a book about cancer." Ding!

The good news is that if your editor can push your book through the acquisition meeting, you'll get a call or email from your editor with a formal offer. And there's nothing sweeter.

Whew! I'm exhausted just posting about this whole process. You can see how tough it is, and why, in my opinion, most books that get published really do deserve some respect - it's not an easy road to navigate. (Which doesn't explain your next question: how does so much crap slip through the cracks? I dunno. But there must be a market for it, so maybe some editors buy crap because they know that crap sells.) Frankly, it's hard to imagine, given the diligence of this process, that anyone gets published at all! I mean, what are the chances that everyone at a given imprint is going to love your book? Slim, right? Right.

How TDLF got four offers is beyond me. Truly. I mean, I love, love, love my book, but really, I feel very fortunate. One offer is a blessing. Anything beyond that - which means that your agent gets to conduct an auction - is a miracle. I'm not even kidding. Up there with the parting of the red seas.

I didn't write all of this to intimidate you guys or daunt you! Only to inform. It can be done. Just walk into Barnes and Noble if you don't believe me: all of those authors went through similar processes (though, I'm sure, there's some variance from house to house and book to book, etc...I'm not claiming that what I wrote here is set in stone, just a general idea), and hey, they came out on the other side. You can too.

Did I scare you off? Or was this educational? It's good for me to know for future posts!
Saturday, July 22, 2006 

I've fallen waaaay behind in updating the blog here on MySpace, but I'm adding in a few recent posts today.  For the complete Q/A, head to http://www.allisonwinnscotch.blogspot.com.

Just What Can I Expect from My Agent for 15%

Should one expect an agent to do edits of a book? And if so, how much editing do they really do?

This is a tricky question. Why? Because you should never expect your agent to help you fine-tune your ms. If you do, you probably already realize that the book needs work, in which case, you shouldn't yet be sending it out.

That said, yes, most agents will walk you through some changes. How in-depth these changes will be depends on a) how much work your ms really needs (through the eyes of an objective resource - not your mother, who has already doled out lavish praise), and b) how much time the agent has to devote to you.

When my agent offered representation for TDLF, she said that we could send it out "as is," or that we could really make sure that every last detail was perfect... a light edit of tweaks here and there, and then it would go out. Obviously, I chose the perfection route. And as a result, my actual editor (once the book was sold) had very few changes for me. (Something that truly freaked me out. I mean, it finally hit me that people would be reading what I wrote...I'd figured that my editor would take an ax to it, then put it back together, thus reassuring me that it was truly ready to roll.) There's also the sad reality that editors at publishing houses have so many other demands on them these days that they have less and less time to, you know, actually edit. So many agents truly put the ms through the ringer before it goes out.
 

Am I At My Agent's Mercy?

Did you have any say in which houses your agent contacted on your behalf?

Yes. But I should say that this was an important factor to me when choosing my agent, so I knew that I would from the get-go. Certain writers have no desire to be part of the submission process or to be kept abreast of it. They'd probably love to be repped by Miss Snark. I, however, like to know the nitty-gritty - both the good and the bad - and thus, looked for an agent who was more collaborative. (I should also note here that I'm sure that Miss Snark wouldn't want someone like me as a client - she's said as much on her blog - so I'm certainly not slamming her here. It's just a reality and what works best for different personalities.)

So, when I was speaking with agents, this was one of the questions I asked: will you let me know which imprints you submitted to and which editors? Not only did my agent happily agree, she asked for my input, since I'd been through the submission process before. I already knew the names of a few editors who loved my work (and a few who didn't, ha!), and she readily submitted to them. Just one reason that my agent and I click so well.

To Email or Not Email: That is the Question

Your exclusive email queries in searching for Agent1 surprised me. Did you follow the same method in finding Agent2?

Yup. I'm an email-only type of gal. Whether or not I should admit this, email (and IM) are really my primary sources of communication (does that make me pathetic? maybe...), and when on my agent hunt, I decided that I wanted one who felt the same way. So...I stuck solely to agents who accepted email queries.

Now, before you jump up and down and tell me that I eliminated an entire batch of grade A agents, let me share a little secret with you: a lot of the agents who list "don't accept email" on
agentquery.com, do, in fact, accept emails. This doesn't mean, however, that you should fire them off at random, unless you want to incur the wrath of Miss Snark (who hates them and won't accept them), should you happen to fire one off to her. No. What this means is that you have to do your homework. Go to an agency's website. Is the agent's email listed there? If so, then have at it. Google said agent. Often times, you'll find interviews with him or her that cite his or her preferences. This is how I discovered that Deborah Schneider really and truly WILL NOT take emailed queries - no ifs, ands or buts - and thus, she received my sole snailed query. (I never heard back.) Go to writers.net, search the forums and see which agents other aspiring novelists have had success with via email. (Type in "e-query" and you'll find a thread that echoes much of my same advice.) Go to writersmarket.com and read archived Q/As with agents to gauge their preferences.

I also did some additional research and discovered, unsurprisingly, that people had higher response rates to e-queries. AND I liked being able to put a return receipt on my note, so even if I didn't hear back, I knew that the agent had received it, which reduced my anxiety. I mean, if it passed in front of their eyes, that's all I could really do. The rest? Out of my control.

Now, don't send this note to Miss Snark and say, "she told me to do this, and tell her that she's wrong." I know how much MS hates emails. I do. Really. And I know that what I'm telling you goes against her countless posts on the subject and thus, is ripe for controversy. But plenty o' agents say "don't email" as a way of weeding out the riff-raff. The question is: are you the riff-raff or are you going to dig deeper?

(And now, I'm going to duck to avoid flying tomatoes.) So - thoughts? Rants? Have I gone terribly astray by countering MS's advice?
 
Crafting the Perfect Query

Noah Lukeman -- agent/author -- claims a good query is only three paragraphs. Yes, the brevity would be an attention-getter, but would it be enough?

I know that I said I was going to deal with queries today, but this is going to be the only question I'm going to address on the subject today. I have a few others in the queue for tomorrow. But I think this is a critical one to start out with because, after all, if you can't write a kick-ass query, you're pretty much DOA.

So, to answer the above question, well, Lukeman is certainly on to something. Will you be crumpled and tossed into the garbage at the mere sight of 5, 6, or 7 'graphs? No. But will you lose an agent's interest if you run on too long? Yes. Just think of it like this: let's say that the average agent gets 20 queries a day. These are from random strangers and said agent might not give a hoot about reading the emails, but knows that she must if she wants to find new talent. Now, you tell me - how likely is it that she's going to read every last word of your six paragraph query? More likely, she'll skim it, especially the last few paragraphs, and lose interest half-way through. I say this NOT because your query sucks but because it's human nature. Consider how many emails YOU get a day. Now tack on another two dozen, and you could see where brevity could work in your favor: make your point and make it concisely. It will only help your cause.

Further, as discussed yesterday, good writers need to know how to self-edit. If you can't compact the teaser of your book into a fairly targeted query letter, the agent is going to wonder how on earth you can write an entire book that comes in under 100,000 words.

So what makes a good query letter, beyond brevity? A quick but engaging summary of the overall plot. This does not include mentioning secondary characters, your protagonist's entire backstory and spilling all of the details of the thrilling finale. It means, as I said, a quick and engaging summary of the overall plot. You'll also want to give the agent a sense of your voice. The bottom line is that if you've come up with a story idea, someone else has most likely come up with something similar (see Kristin Nelson's blog from 7/17) ...and that someone else might very well have pitched this agent. What can set you apart from that person (or another book that's already been written and released that touches on the same plot)? Voice.

Here's the letter I used for TDLF. Rereading, it looks like it's 4 graphs. No one complained. :) It highlights what the book is about without giving too much away; it engages the reader from the get-go (at least, I think it did!); and it gives a clear sense of my overall voice as a writer. Whether or not your query is three paragraphs or seven, I don't think that you can go wrong with these elements.

QUERY LETTER, THE DEPT OF LOST AND FOUND:

Dear XX,

Natalie Miller had a plan. She had a goddamn plan. Top of her class at Dartmouth. Even better at Yale Law. Youngest aide ever to the powerful Senator Claire Dupris. Higher, faster, stronger. This? Was all part of the plan. True, she was so busy ascending the political ladder that she rarely had time to sniff around her mediocre relationship with Ned, who fit the three Bs to the max: basic, blond and boring, and she definitely didn't have time to mourn her mangled relationship with Jake, her budding rock star ex-boyfriend.

The lump in her right breast that Ned discovers during brain-numbingly bland morning sex? That? Was most definitely not part of the plan. And Stage IIIA breast cancer? Never once had Natalie jotted this down on her to-do list for conquering the world. When her (tiny-penised) boyfriend has the audacity to dump her on the day after her diagnosis, Natalie's entire world dissolves into a tornado of upheaval, and she's left with nothing but her diary to her ex-boyfriends, her mornings lingering over the Price is Right, her burnt out stubs of pot which carry her past the chemo pain, and finally, the weight of her life choices - the ones in which she might drown if she doesn't find a buoy.

The Department of Lost and Found is a story of hope, of resolve, of digging deeper than you thought possible until you find the strength not to crumble, and ultimately, of making your own luck, even when you've been dealt an unsteady hand.

I'm a freelance writer and have contributed to, among others, American Baby, American Way, Arthritis Today, Bride's, Cooking Light, Fitness, Glamour, InStyle Weddings, Lifetime Television, Men's Edge, Men's Fitness, Men's Health, Parenting, Parents, Prevention, Redbook, Self, Shape, Sly, Stuff, USA Weekend, Weight Watchers, Woman's Day, Women's Health, and ivillage.com, msn.com, and women.com. I also ghostwrote The Knot Book of Wedding Flowers.

If you are interested, I'd love to send you the completed manuscript.

Thanks so much! Looking forward to speaking with you soon.
Allison

So...more on the query process tomorrow. Those are my intial thoughts. Have at me! And if you have other questions about query letters, fire 'em over or post them here.
 
(More questions asked and answered on my regular blog!)
Tuesday, July 18, 2006 

Before I start answering the questions, I just want to give a BIG shout-out to my fellow writer, Diana Peterfreund, whose book Secret Society Girl is launching TODAY!! Yahoo! I've pre-ordered two copies from Amazon (one for me, one as a gift), and given the great reviews it's been receiving, I recommend you do the same.

Now, down to the nitty-gritty. Thanks, first, for all of your questions, both on the blog and off! I'm going to answer a few a day, contingent on how much other work I have, and contingent on whether or not I know the answer right away. If not, I'm turning out outside sources (agents, other pubbed writers), and will post when I hear back from them. Also, I'm not necessarily answering in the order received: if you've asked five questions at once, I'll probably break them up so I can satisfy a few different folks per day. But fear not, I PROMISE that I'll answer them all! And while I'm placing some ground rules, go ahead and shoot me any magazine questions you might have. We'll do a little mix and match with the Q/A...and I'm just going to keep the blog focused on this until we all get bored. (Or run out of questions!) :)

The Revise: How to Make It Less Torturous
How much of the book changed during the revision process? (And if you have any tips to make it less painful ...!) (From Swishy, who's blog is side-splittingly funny. Check it out!)

This question made me lose sleep last night. Seriously. The second part doesn't have an answer, but I'm tackling it right out of the gate. I'm going to stick to talking about THE DEPT LOST/FOUND because that's the one that sold. TDLF went through, I think, two fairly decent rounds of revisions. When I say "decent," I mean adding in an extra side-plot, making the heroine slightly more sympathetic, tidying up the ending, and (drumroll) cutting the first five chapters (yes, really!) and restarting the book right in the thick of the action.

NOW. That sounds like A LOT. But, and this is partially where the answer gets complicated, along the way, not too much of the story itself changed - I knew the story that I wanted to tell from the beginning, and I refused to be swayed from that. But from a reader's (not author's) perspective (and these are often two very different things), certain elements were missing. My agent helped point those out, and I was able to go back into my creative well and figure out how to fill those holes. (And I should add, learned how to write a better novel in the process - I surely won't repeat those mistakes the next time around.) For example, my Type A heroine needed to be more relatable, so I created an obsession with the Price is Right. I think that if you're sure of the story arc and the saga you want to tell, the revisions will only strengthen the book because you'll think, "oh, aha, of course, that makes perfect sense, and I know how to do that pretty easily." It's only when you're UNSURE of where you want the book/story to go that you run into problems and the revisions get messy. Does that make any sense at all? In sum, with each revision, the book grew stronger, more honed, less expository, and a better flowing read. But through it all, it was still the same story of a young woman who is thrown into chaos and is forced to overhaul her life.

Now, that said, how do you make revisions less painful? Beyond having a clear idea of who your characters are and what they would or wouldn't do, and a clear idea of your story (as mentioned above), I think it's critical to take your ego out of the equation. As a magazine writer, I'm used to constant edits, so revisions for me weren't that big of a deal. I never took them personally, and I never (well, rarely) grew so attached to a paragraph or scene or set of words that I couldn't edit or cut them. And this is key. If you're too attached to what you've written, you likely won't see it objectively, and objective is exactly what agents and editors are. What you might see as brilliant insight into your heroine's mind might be boring the pants off the rest of the readers. And if they collectively tell you that, you know what? Lose the section. When you go back and reread it a few weeks later (which is important - put down the ms for a while, then go back to it with a refreshed mind), you'll recognize that your book is stronger for it.

All of this said, there are certainly times to put your foot down. Agent #1 wanted me to cut a diary element of the book. I knew the diary was inherent to understanding what my heroine was going through, and I refused. The book wouldn't have been the same without it. But on just about everything else -smaller things that really didn't affect the overall scope of the book - I was willing to hack away. And I suggest that you do the same. More often than you realize, you can cut something out and lose nothing.

How Do I Get My Foot in the Door?

You admit that your previous writing credentials probably helped you (a lot). OTOH, I have nothing to "show and tell" and am stumped as to how to overcome that obstacle. Any thoughts?

I do have a few thoughts, which I'll offer, but since this isn't my area of expertise, I tapped the brain of my venerable agent, who kindly put forth a few tips as well. But, since you asked, here are my thoughts: yes, my magazine experience probably garnered my query a closer look, but, BUT, once I shot off my partial (or full), it didn't help me for a damn. If the agents didn't like what they read, they couldn't have cared less if I'd been the editor of the New Yorker. So, with that in mind, regardless of your experience or day job or lack of publishing credits, you need to write a kick-ass query, which means you need to avoid using overwrought cliches (Miss Snark has posted on the ones that drive her up the wall - search her archives), spell-check it (yes, you'd be amazed at how many people don't), and most critically, write a finely honed, engaging book, one that grabs the agent's attention from the very first page. (See above as to how I axed the first five chapters. Everything that happened before chapter six could easily be summed up in the pages that followed.)

Now, my brilliant agent's thoughts: "Yes, all of what you said is great. (AWS: she's talking about my advice.) I would add that they do their homework. When I get a submission that says, for example, 'I know you recently sold Allison Winn Scotchs novel, and mine is in a similar vein, or 'I know you are looking for female memoirs,' that makes a difference. The internet has made it a lot easier for people to find out what agents are looking for or have sold, and I, for one, pay more attention to a blind query that comes in with some thought to whom theyve sent it. A lot of this is common sense, but you'd be amazed as to how few people do it."

I've Been Dumped: Where Do I Go From Here?
Hey Allison, yesterday I commented as an agented writer, and today I am unagented. Kind of the same thing that happened to you. My agent is pregnant doesn't feel she can manage everything in her life and have me revise my second novel for her--she liked it, but said it seemed small and quiet. My head is swimming. I admire you getting right back up there and querying. I know I need to do that, but I'm almost paralyzed. Did you just start back through your original list? Thanks for the help.

Oy boy. Been there, done that. First of all, take a deeeeep breath. Then, perhaps, reach for the liquor cabinet. (Or go for a super, duper long run, which is how I dealt with my own anxiety.) Oh, boxing classes help to.

Okay, with that out of your system, and if you're sober enough to type, get right back on the saddle. (Which is why I'm answering your question today, rather than putting it in the queue!) Yes, the very first thing I did, within one freakin' hour of deciding to leave agent #1, was ruffle through my files and contact all of the agents who were interested the first time around, even though they hadn't signed me. Actually, what I had to do first was craft a query letter, but I was so high on adrenaline that I wrote it in about 30 minutes (seriously) and knew that it was a zinger. (I'm going to talk about query letters tomorrow, and I'll post the one I used for TDLF.)

So...I contacted the previously interested parties, and about 90% of them wrote back to me within a day and were interested in reading. From there, I was off and running. With just that teeny, tiny bit of reinforcement, I stepped further away from the fear of being unagented and closer to the realization that I'd find someone who would be a better match for both me and my work. I think it helps - just a little - if you think of the agent query process as a treasure hunt. A stressful one, but a treasure hunt nevertheless. I enjoyed researching agents: for that each one hummed with potential, I saw so much possibility. I was determined to find the right match. And this really fueled me. Let it do the same for you.

And know this: getting dumped was the best possible thing that could have happened to me. It's simply not fair to be shackled with an agent who is half-hearted about your work, nor is it fair to the agent to have to submit something that she's not fully behind. Think of this as unloading your dead weight. You'll find someone who can buoy you rather than bring you down, and from there, you can thrive.

Monday, July 17, 2006 

Okay, so as I mentioned below, I thought I'd take this week (or however long people want) to share my story about how I landed the book deal for THE DEPARTMENT OF LOST AND FOUND (Morrow, May 2007). From there, please feel free to send me any questions you might have about the query/agent/publishing process, and I'll do my best to answer. If I can't answer, I'll try to tap into a friend or resource who can. You can email me (if you want anonymity) or just post your question in the comment box.

So...here we go.

It all began about 4-5 years ago: I was a relatively successful magazine writer (more on that next week - happy to answer those questions too, so fire them to me whenever they strike), but wanted to branch out, so I started banging out a ms whenever inspiration struck. Like a lot of aspiring novelists, I got half way done and more or less gave up. Another year went by, and I added some more, but I couldn't finish the damn thing. (This is at least part of the reason that agents demand a completed ms from you: who knows when and how you'll finish it!) Finally, in the summer of 2004, just before my son was born, I figured that if I didn't finish it then, I'd NEVER finish it, so I joined an online writers' group, got my butt in gear, and cranked it out, wrapping up the ms two weeks before my babe popped out. So this was in October of '04.

In January of '05, I started querying agents, (exclusively by email, I should add), and I signed with one in late-Feb. (And yes, I do think this was a rather short query period, compared to the average, but I'm guessing that my magazine credits helped open doors that might not have otherwise been opened. But all of my queries were blind, regardless.) Anyway, the book needed a lot of work - first novels are VERY hard to do perfectly and often very rough, even when you think it's genius (trust me, I did) - but my agent really helped me overhaul the whole ms until it was ready to go. We sent it out in late-April and received glowing, glowing notes. Alas, glowing as they were, they were rejections. Several editors asked for revisions and a resubmit, but my agent thought it was smarter to simply write a second book and go back out with it, since most of the editors - even those who rejected it flat-out - asked to see my next work. Sigh. And *$q. That's pretty much how I felt. Oh, and demoralized too. Let's not forget that!

But by June, I was writing again, and by August, I was actually done with the next ms. (This was a personal subject, so it was very easy for me to write.) My agent and I went through several rounds of revisions until she said she was happy with it. She just wanted to get one more read within the agency. So imagine my surprise when she called me a week later and said that she didn't love the book, that she thought it would do "more harm than good for my career" to send it out, and gave me three options: 1) we could revise book #1 and send it back out, 2) I could start on another ENTIRELY NEW book, or 3) I could break the contract and seek other representation. Sigh. And *$q. That's pretty much how I felt. Oh, and demoralized too.

Actually, this time, I only felt demoralized for about 1/2 a second. See, I KNEW that this book was excellent. I KNEW that it was 10x better than the first, and that my agent's opinion was just one opinion. (Granted, I also had some outside readers' opinions as well, all of whom told me the book was great.) So...I made the scary but still thrilling leap of parting very amicably with my agent and getting back on the query bandwagon. As soon as I walked away from agent #1, I knew it was the right thing to do. I felt liberated and fabulous about leaving a person who only half-heartedly believed in the book (she admitted as much, so I don't think it casts her in a bad light to say this) and was determined to find someone who loved it as much as I did. Because the book was so much stronger this time around, I received a lot of agent interest immediately. Within three weeks (by early December of '05), I had several offers of representation and signed with my current agent who, quite possibly, loved the book even more than I did.

From there, we did some minor tweaking over the holidays, and she sent it out on January 3rd of 2006. Ten days later, we had four offers - wildly exceeding my expectations - and accepted the offer from William Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollins.

So...that's my story. Certainly, there are a few lessons in there about I learned along the way. One has to do with accepting advice from others (without a doubt, agent #1 helped me hone my writing); another has to do with trusting yourself and your instincts; a third has to do with knowing when to let go (book #1) and when not to (book #2); and..on and on.

Okay, so that's my (long) story. Now, fire away any and all questions! If I can help and answer 'em, I will!

Sunday, July 16, 2006 
I know that there are a lot of aspiring novelists out there, so, as promised below, I thought I'd spend next week chatting about my road to publication, the pitfalls, the perils, the persistence. I'll spend Monday (and possibly Tuesday) explaining how I got here, and then open up the blog to questions, which I'll do my best to answer the rest of the week.

If people are interested, I can do the same the following week, only this time, I'll deal with magazine writing.

So - if you have questions about the query/agent/publishing process, mull 'em over this weekend, then check back in on Monday! I don't know if I can really be an answer guru, but I'll certainly try my best.
Saturday, July 15, 2006 
Note to self: don't read US Weekly before going to bed. Disturbing dreams about Lance Bass (driving a white Cabriolet...do they even make those anymore??) and Reichen ensue.

So I got a note yesterday from the lovely Ginger Roddick, who happens to be Andy Roddick's sis-in-law and publicist. I've known Ginger for a few years but you know how it goes: life gets in the way and somehow, you go months without emailing. Anyway, she wrote to tell me that she checked out the blog and she passed along Andy's blog, which I check in on too. Now, I know, I know, you're rolling your eyes: it's only her second day of blogging, and she's already name-dropping? Man, how lame. But let me just say that a) I don't know enough famous people to really name-drop, and b) there's a reason I'm writing this.

I met Andy about a year and a half ago when I flew down to Florida to interview him. I had no idea what to expect, other than that I swooned when he kissed Mandy Moore (girl crush alert!) when he won the Open. I met him at his annual fund-raiser for the Andy Roddick Foundation, and was just so, so impressed by him. Dashing, articulate, smart, witty...and only, I dunno, maybe 21 at the time. But the kicker came when, at some point in the conversation, he learned that I'd just had a baby ("have breast-pump; will travel"), and said, "you had a kid eight weeks ago? Seriously? You look amazing." Now, at that moment, had my (equally dashing and articulate) husband not been at an adjacent cocktail table, I surely would have fallen to my knees and kissed his feet, only to jump up whisk him away and run off with him forever. (The whole age gap thing aside - true, I'm old enough to be, well, not his mother, but certainly his babysitter, which definitely ups the squick factor.) Now, I'm sure that Andy has no recollection of these comments, much less meeting me, but my point here is that he's is a kick-ass guy who knows just how to make a post-partum mom feel dandy. So check out his blog. (And root for him this August/September at the U.S. Open!) It doesn't hurt that he's also a fan of The Office and raved about it in his blog.

Speaking of The Office, I just want to rant very briefly about this year's Emmy nominations. Now, my husband is always telling me that these award shows are total crap (right before he sinks into the couch and becomes entranced with a slightly glazed-over look until the final award is given out), but this year? Well, he's right. Because on WHAT PLANET could John Krasinski NOT been nominated for his stellar, subtle, hilarious work in Casino Night or Booze Cruise or Drug Testing or...on and on. (The smart folks at Television Without Pity agree.) And don't get me started on Lost or Patrick Dempsey or Hugh Laurie or Zach Braff. (True though: hurrah for 24, possibly the best show on TV right now.) I mean, half of the nominees aren't even on the air anymore. Why not nominate Captain Steubing and Mr. Drummond while they were at it? This might just be the first time I actually have to boycott the awards. (Oh, who am I kidding, like I won't be glued to E! for the preshow, at the very least.) Anyway, at least I know that Andy agrees with me.

So who got robbed in this year's nominations? And is my husband right? (Egads.) Are these nominations simply Hollywood's way of tooting their own horns?

And check back in next week - I'll talk about my road to book publication! (Finally, something relevant.)
Friday, July 14, 2006 

Current mood:  hungry

This is my thought of the morning: if I had to survive on one food alone, surely, it would be cereal. I adore, adore, ADORE cereal. Seriously, I mean it: I think I could live off of it. In the mornings, I have a whole system down. I layer five different cereals on top of one another - right now, I'm working Kasha Heart Healthy (which sounds nasty but is really sweet and yummy), Kix (I steal them from my son), Quaker Toasted Oatmeal, All-Bran (because I'm a health writer and know how good fiber is for the bod), and Golden Grahams (again, pilfered from my son's stash). My husband is a fan of Oreo Cookie Cereal (yes, they really do make that) and Honey Bunches of Oats, which I occasionally dabble in myself, but only when he buys the kind with strawberries or bananas.

So...if you had to survive on one food alone, what would it be? Or more importantly, am I missing out on any to-die-for cereals? (Because you know that I could spend hours lingering in the cereal aisle, so I'm always up for suggestions!)