Still Bleeding - the Worst Rejection Ever

Why what do I spy with my little eye?!? @jeffekennedy Cover Flats WITH FOIL. 😍 #TheOrchidThrone @SMPRomance @jcon713 pic.twitter.com/XNrKSCjCvy

— Sarah E. Younger (@seyitsme) April 12, 2019

I had to share this tweet from Agent Sarah. We got the cover flats for THE ORCHID THRONE (out in September 2019, but review copies are going out now - eep!) and they have foil! That's the shiny stuff on the cover. It shows best in the video from her tweet, but here's a still pic, in case the video doesn't play. Super cool, huh? It's my first cover with foil, and it's SO PRETTY!

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is Knife in the Heart: The Harshest, Meanest Rejections from a Publisher/Editor/Agent. I think this is a great topic because it's always good to hear that *every* author receives rejections. While 99% of them are usually vaguely kind, there's always some who have to be vicious about it.

This was on my mind the other day because there's one rejection I received about 25 years ago, when I was a super newbie author - and it was so mean I STILL THINK ABOUT IT TO THIS DAY.

I know, I know - I should really let it go. For the most part, I really have. I don't feel bad about it, but I do remember the words from this editor and they float back into my head from time to time.

So, I'd made this Huge Life Change™ and gone from a PhD program in Neuroscience to working as an editor/writer for a petroleum research group. The job had flexible hours, paid well, and let me develop my chops as a writer. I'd decided I didn't want to be a research scientist and wanted to be a writer instead. As part of this effort, I took courses from visiting writers at the university. One of the first was the class Essays on Self and Place. Thus, my early writing efforts were personal essays, also known as Creative Nonfiction.

(In fact, my first book was an essay collection: WYOMING TRUCKS, TRUE LOVE AND THE WEATHER CHANNEL.)

But before that happened, I was doing the magazine circuit. I'd send out work to places that published essays, from literary journals to commercial magazines. And I sold essays to that broad gamut, with my biggest score an essay I sold to Redbook for $1/word. I built this career largely through writing a lot and sheer tenacity. Which, come to think of it, is what I still do.

I'd read a piece of advice from some author I can't recall now to treat submitting like a game of ping pong. You submitted work, and as soon as it got rejected, you batted it right back out to another venue. I even called my folder of essays I was actively submitting "Ping Pong." I had a rule that I had to have every finished piece on active submission at three places at one time. As soon as a rejection arrived in the mail - and these were the days of paper printouts sent in the mail with a self-addressed, stamped envelope (the infamous SASE) - I had to whack that essay back out right away. I kept a list of publication venues (in a spreadsheet, OF COURSE), in order of preference, and I'd just go to the next on the list.

All in all, this approach worked very well for me. Treating the submission/rejection process like a game helped to take the sting out of rejections. It also meant I got a LOT of rejections. Every time that envelope showed up in my mailbox, addressed in my own hand, I'd feel the pain. They almost never *accepted* via the SASE. An acceptance came via phone call, maybe email (depending on the year), or as a thick envelope with their own postage containing a contract. Maybe even a check! I always wondered what they did with my SASEs in those cases, but it seemed cheap to ask for them back, even though I could have reused them.

So, yes, I received many, many rejections of various flavors, but I also published work at a steady rate in a variety of venues. I kept up a high velocity in my personal game of ping pong. It worked well.

This one magazine though...

It was called something like Women's World Weekly. I could be conflating several publications. But I do recall I discovered it in the Women's Bathroom at the petroleum research institute I worked in. Someone left copies in there every week. It was low-quality paper, with lots of ads for things women supposedly liked, and then those kind of heart-wrenching "real life" stories of love and loss.

So I sent them one of my essays on love and loss. And I got a rejection back pretty fast - hand-written, saying that it wasn't exactly the kind of thing for them - too long, or whatever. This was early on and I didn't always pay attention to the content of the rejections. Often they didn't say all that much that was useful. Also, I came from a scientific background and the non-scientific nature of their criteria often stymied me. Finally, I was busy - and the game of ping pong meant I had to get stuff back out there rapidly.

I sent them another essay on love and loss. I got another rejection saying no, it wouldn't work for them.

I sent a third essay. (Maybe I only sent two, but it might have been the third submission.) And I got this hand-written, black-ink, furious scrawl that said:

YOU JUST DON'T GET IT, JEFFE!

And I don't remember the rest. It was some sort of excoriation on how my work would never, ever, in a million years, be right for them.

Thing is - they were probably right. And it was true, that I didn't "get it." I was very new at that point, and green. I didn't yet understand how to discern what a particular publication or editor preferred. I viewed it all as a vast crapshoot - or a game of ping pong - and figured the right thing at the right time was what got accepted.

Which is actually very true.

But there was something in the sheer venom of that rejection that has always stuck with me. And sometimes I hear that guy's voice - the editor was male, which is interesting in retrospect - shouting at me in that scribbled note, telling me that my work was a waste of his time.

Of course, I took that publication off my spreadsheet and never submitted there again, which likely came as a relief to them. I sold those essays elsewhere, and I've gone on to build a career.

Still, every time someone implies that I "just don't get it," I feel the twinge of that knife to the heart. Funny, what gets to us, huh?

Writing Is a Snack Free Zone

Author's Titanic tea cups (reproductions)

Here we go again with a theme for the weekly post that I don’t have much of anything to say, not because I dislike the theme but because it doesn’t apply to me.

“Perfect writing snacks.”

Umm, yeah, I never snack when I’m writing.

If I’m writing, I’m writing and my hands are in constant motion, typing.

I’m not a snack-y person really. I have an apple in mid-morning, a string cheese if I’m feeling extra hungry in between meals and need protein and either a banana or an apple between dinner and bedtime. I might have a cup of tea on occasion and that I may actually drink while I’m sitting here at the keyboard, but is tea considered a ‘snack’?

On snacks in general, I used to love M&M’s, maybe when reading, but on three occasions over the years I’ve had one go down the wrong way and nearly asphyxiated, which since I actually came within a few seconds of brain death years ago and required heroic Heimlich maneuvers from the friend I was out with (that occasion was a piece of toast, not candy)….I have considerable anxiety on the topic. So M&M’s are off my list of edibles. Sorry, little guys!

*******************************

Author's piece of coal
from the sunken ship

VS Note:  107 years ago this week, the Titanic hit an iceberg in the North Atlantic and sank with a terrible loss of life. I was always fascinated by the sinking and wrote my scifi action adventure novel WRECK OF THE NEBULA DREAM loosely based on the events, but set in the far future on an interstellar cruise liner. There is a romance but the book is much less steamy than my normal stories. I later wrote a sequel about two of the supporting characters in response to numerous reader requests. STAR SURVIVOR is written in my steamier style.

Buy Links for WRECK OF THE NEBULA DREAM: Amazon  Barnes & Noble  iBooks    Google Play   Kobo   (There’s also an audiobook…)

Buy Links for STAR SURVIVOR: iBooks      Amazon    Kobo       Barnes & Noble

Fueling For the Fight

Food and writing don't really go together for me. Tea and writing? That's almost nonnegotiable. But food takes too much concentration. Food tends to be concentrated at meal times which I may take in front of my computer while I sit there staring at the flashing cursor while I chew. I may contemplate a plot, character, or scene issue. Eating and ruminating, so to speak. But eating and writing are two very separate things that do not go well together for me. It's almost like it take different parts of the brain or something.  

Granted. I do my fastest and best writing stupidly early in the morning before food or tea. Water yes. Feline companionship, yes. No noms. Except for said felines. Feline snacks are a MUST for writing. Feed the cats or wear the hangry cats. The struggle is real. 

But if you want a glimpse into the "Thank the gods I'm not eating her diet" depths, this was lunch:

quinoa with fake cheesy ranch dressing, Indian-spiced pan roasted brussels sprouts, and a spoonful of black-eye peas. It was topped off with fake black cherry 'ice' cream (topped with vegan mini chocolate chips)

I cannot imagine that anyone wants these recipes unless they're plant-based as well, but here you go. The fake ice cream.

Black Cherry Nice Cream

chop and freeze 1 banana (lay the slices on parchment paper on a cookie sheet in the freezer for 2 hours)

Bag of frozen black cherries

bag of vegan chocolate mini chips

plant milk of your choice (I use Ripple, a pea protein based product)

Put 1/2 cup of frozen banana and 1/2 cup of frozen black cherries in a blender. Turn your blade speed down (4 on a Vitamix does well). Blend. This is going to sound like you're blending gravel. You are. Ish. Once the frozen fruit has broken down a bit and collected on the sides, shut down the blender, scrape the fruit down, and add plant milk 1/4 cup at a time. Blend. You'll have to turn off the blender and scrape the sides a few times to get everything to ice creamy consistency. Spoon into bowls and sprinkle with chocolate chips. Dig in. 

And don't forget. Iced tea goes with everything.

Fueling Up for the next big thing

Friends, my whelm has been a bit over.  In the past two weeks, I've launched one book, sent in the copyedits for another, and finished the draft of yet another.  And now I'm starting the process of drafting what's going to be a Big One-- PEOPLE OF THE CITY, which is technically a Maradaine Elite novel (i.e., starring Dayne and Jerinne), but in practice, this is the first Big Crossover.  And it's a LOT.

Right now I'm in that less-sexy, more data-driven part of things of making sure I have timelines and terms squared away, knowing I've got all the who's and what's and where's and when's locked down.  

This stuff requires fuel.

My big go-tos right now tend to be coffee in the morning and herbal teas in the afternoon and evening.  Add in apples, peanuts and granola, and I'm good to go.

And I'll need to be.  There's still a lot of work ahead.

No noms for me

My writing brain is a starveling. Also quite dramatic, apparently. I mean, really, brain: "pining with want"? Except yes, that's really the best description. I can't write if I am properly fed. Full belly equals sleepies and a complete lack of motivation. Plus also, my stories are about longing, right?

At any rate, when I'm fast-drafting or working up against a deadline, I exist on coffee and vodka and the occasional no-carb whatever, which often tastes like canned tuna or roasted almonds. It's probably a good thing for my long-term health that I don't get into these intense write-all-the-words-RIGHT-NOW situations. Though, I'll be honest, they are fun.

Know what's funner, though? Getting the thing done. Which usually involves a celebration. Which means food.

 You know that saying "I'll sleep when I'm dead"? My Writing Brain's version is "You can eat when you're done."

Food Post: Snacking while Writing

Confession: I'm nowhere near as virtuous as Jeffe and James. I am a snacker. Dinner often resembles multiple snack sessions, or maybe lunch continues into dinner as I snack through the food pyramid.

To whit, here are my Top Writerly Snacks by Food Pyramid Group:

1. Vegetables = Broccoli Tots w Cheese (Green Giant. Freezer section).
2. Fruit = Simple Mango Smoothie (Frozen mango chunks, splash of lemon juice, water/wine in a blender) 
3. Grains = Crackers, probably with cheese though hummus is nice too. 
4. Dairy = A pot of yogurt to keep all digestive parts working as designed. (Watch the sugars on this one; some yogurt brands have more sugar than ice cream.)
5. Meat = One-bite mini meatballs (usually in the freezer section, sometimes the butcher has them freshly made)
6. Fats & Oils = Spoonful of all natural nut butter (I like peanut or cashew. Again, watch the added sugars here or you might as well have a Reeses Cup.)
7. SUGAR: Dark Chocolate, bite-size (I like Dove's individual wrapped squares because chocolate-covered keys are nasty.)

Yes, coffee stands alone. It's is not a food group. It's a necessity. Kind of like bourbon. 🤣

Clean Hands, Healthy mind

I DO snack while I'm writing, Mostly I snack on dried things that are high in protein. Protein eliminates the hunger that can distract from writing. Most often it's dry roasted peanuts or roasted nuts of some kind because I'm a diabetic and have to watch the carbohydrate intake.
Also, I like to have clean hands, so nothing too fatty. I love popcorn, but it's damned messy when trying to type.


To wash it down there's always coffee, tea or water.

Okay, back to work. Deadlines, deadlines, deadlines....

Hands on Keyboard, Butt out of Chair

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is the deceptively simple "Perfect Writing Snacks."

I say it's deceptively simple because I'm going to have to pull a Veronica Scott this week and say that I just have nothing on this one.

I don't snack while I'm writing. Really, I don't snack much at all. The way I grew up, we pretty much just ate at mealtimes, maybe a nibble with drinks at cocktail hour. Also, my whole ethic is bent in the opposite direction. I don't snack while I write because it would interfere with my hands on the keyboard. It's also difficult to eat while walking, which is what I do while writing.

There's a saying a lot of writers pass around, that the way to get the words down is "Butt in Chair, Hands on Keyboard," or BICHOK. While I agree with the spirit of the saying, I don't like it because I'm not a fan of sitting. I walk while I write and it's been the most amazing thing for me.

I got my first treadmill desk in February of 2013, so over six years ago (wow!). Since that time, I've gotten so that I generally walk about 10 miles/day while writing. The trance-state induction of steady walking is amazing for writing flow, and the movement keeps my brain alert.

I have the same hydraulic desk, which I can raise and lower as I wish. I absolutely recommend that model. I'm on my second under-desk treadmill, which is about how it goes, since they do wear out.

If you listen to my podcast, First Cup of Coffee, you know that my current treadmill started tanking on me. The horrors! The folks at LifeSpan (I have this model) have been great and are sending me a new motor, since it's still under warranty. The techs come on Wednesday to install it and give the whole thing a tune-up.

Until then, I was deeply unsettled. I'm working hard on finishing THE FIERY CITADEL, sequel to September's THE ORCHID THRONE, and I need to walk to write!

Okay... maybe I don't NEED to, but I hate to mess with my process. I really do. And you all know that I'm always saying that the most important thing is that we own our process as writers, and that means doing what it takes to facilitate that process.

So, my hubs David suggested that we rig up something temporary on the running treadmill. (Yes, we're a two-treadmill household, but a walking desk treadmill needs a motor that runs well for long times at low speeds, which is not the same kind of motor that you need to run at faster speeds.) Thus, above, is my temporary workstation. Those are the leaves for expanding the dining room table across the handle bars, and the ever-useful bungee cord strapping on the laptop. I have a wireless keyboard I love for the key action, so that's nice and familiar.

There's even a glimpse of the book, for the clever reader.

I wouldn't use this system for long, but it works for now.