Inbox Is Burning

Diving back into the query game like:

But for realzies. It's terrifying. So much has changed, and yet, everything's the same. It's still a polite game of "hey, so, here's my baby... please don't punch it in the face" – only now, all the resources I used in 2013 (querytracker.net, agentquery.com, etc.) are horribly outdated. I feel like one of those ol' folks trying to get into the hip new lingo all the youngsters are reppin' 'round tha' block.

I'm turning 26 this August. THE PLIABLE RUSE is only the second novel I've attempted to sell. I know I shouldn't be panicking, but o lawd it's a scary time to be agent hunting.

To be fair, I did this to myself. I dove into the grown-up author game as a YA/NA sci-fi writer, and over the past three years, my lovely agent Kimberley has been nothing but supportive. This new project wasn't up her alley, though, and I knew there'd be risks diving into the steamy, wonderful world of adult gaslamp fantasies. Alas, the story of Sterling Hawtrey had to be told, and with six or so half-finished YA dabbles sitting on my desktop, I took the plunge and finished what I needed to finish.

I'm proud of my new work, proud of my old work, and proud to still be repped by the fantastic Ms. Cameron. So, that said, it's into the fire I cannonball, determined to resurface with a new agent for my new venture.

Send pizza.

Naked & Afraid... BUT PUBLISHED!

Yes, yes. I’m still here, don’t get your hopes up. Something about a 40 hour work week on top of a writing career makes blog posts startlingly more difficult to find time for. Unless you’ve been living under a rock, though, you’ve heard that my debut novel is finally out! That’s right! You can now purchase Zhukov’s Dogs and digest what all these rambling posts have led up to!

I recently had the pleasure of writing a guest post for Robyn over at Project Nemesis, in which I detailed the long trek up to this release – the way time blurs from the moment you start riding the dizzying, sometimes surreal, high into the world of publishing – and offered advice to those attempting to juggle a day job with their publishing high or dreams of reaching one. Since I know at least one person reading this blog meets those requirements, I thought I'd extrapolate on that advice a bit more here.

1. It’s Going to Be Stressful
   
   
   
   
   This one should be obvious to even the finest of multitaskers. There are only so many hours in the day, and since we can’t all be Time Lords, things like sleep and yoga slip through the cracks. Often.
   
   Breathe through it and practice moderation on all fronts, because you don’t want to burn out and end up hating either of your full-time gigs. If you already hate your day job, you've got an advantage over most, as that hate serves as an excellent motivator for writing a novel successful enough to get you out of there.
   
   
2. Don’t Get Ahead of Yourself
   
   
   
   
   Be smart. A manuscript, no matter how confident you are in it, likely won’t pay the bills all by itself. As lovely as it would be if our final word-counts matched our annual salaries, it doesn’t work that way. You can dream about quitting your day job, but make sure you get out of bed for it in the morning.
   
   
3. You’re Going to Have to Make Difficult Choices
   
   
   
   
   I’m not just talking about deciding whether or not you get a full 8 hours every night. I was lucky when I was writing the first draft of Zhukov’s Dogs because I didn’t have the day job going at the time, school was easy (yup, I was studying English), and my then-boyfriend/now-fiancé was incredibly supportive, both financially and emotionally.
   
   I started juggling two professions after my agent sold the manuscript in early 2014, and I quickly realized neither was getting the attention it deserved. It’s a hard truth that still makes me sad when I think about it, and on more than one occasion I’ve had to ask myself which is more important. All I can say is it's a good thing my boss went through the publishing process himself not too long ago and is super understanding because of it.
   
   
4. You’ll Be NAKED
   
   
   
   
   Yup. Naked. I’m not sure how else to describe this sensation of knowing my friends, family, and coworkers will soon be reading my work. At least for me, feedback from strangers is perfectly fine, but what about all of these people I see on a daily basis? The next time I give a presentation or throw a party, it’s possible half the room will have glimpsed into the world I built, and I find that simultaneously terrifying and thrilling.
   
   This unease is especially bothersome because I'm a confident, extroverted individual in the day-to-day world. I like to think it will go away as time goes on, but as of today, I don't think I could handle a face-to-face review of my work. Imagine we're sitting at coffee and you want to talk about Zhukov's Dogs. Give you a synopsis? Sure. Explain what went into the publishing process? Bring it on. A general "loved your book" doesn't even bother me, but you mention specifics like "that one scene in that one place between those two, I mean I just..." and suddenly there's a fascinating spot on the tiles beneath the table I MUST investigate up close.
   
   Although I opted against it, I encourage everyone who’s ambling down the publishing path (with or without a 9 to 5) to seriously consider the levels of exposure that come with plastering your name on a book. There are benefits to pen names.
   
   
5. It. Will. Be. Awesome.
   
   
   
   
   If you press through to the high – through the drafts, revisions, queries and rejections – all the sacrifices and stress will suddenly make sense. Writing is a labor of love, and if it’s something you’re passionate about, regardless of where you are in your life, pursue it to its end. Sleep can wait when there’s a story to be told.

COVER REVEAL: Zhukov's Dogs

Today's the day! Presenting the cover for my debut novel, Zhukov’s Dogs, a new age dystopian available October 27, 2014 in both paperback and e-book formats from Curiosity Quills Press.

And now a bit about the book (for all you lovely people squinting to read the jacket designed by the amazing Alexandria Thompson):

A good dog doesn’t ask questions, especially when The Council holds their leash.

Lieutenant Colonel Nik Zhukov never disappoints—never questions the orders given to him—even as each mission further reveals how corrupt his handlers are. For the sake of national security, the desensitized prodigy pretends he’s just like any other seventeen-year-old living in the year 2076. At least until it comes time to pull the trigger.

On the verge of promotion, Nik is dispatched to the underground city beneath the icy Seattle tundra. What should’ve been a simple bit of recon is complicated by the underground’s dark secrets. He soon finds himself treated as an equal and swept into battles alongside the misfit revolutionaries he was sent to spy on. Their gray-eyed leader isn’t fooled by his ruse, though, and as Nik worms his way into their lives, he unknowingly breaks the number one rule within his ranks.

He allows himself to feel normal. It’s a mistake he pays for dearly when he learns The Council’s true intentions for Seattle.

For more information, please visit the Goodreads page for Zhukov’s Dogs. You can also follow Amanda’s rambling about her literary adventures on her blog, Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.

Please share and remember to be awesome!

"Is It Even the Same Book?"

First-round revisions of ZHUKOV'S DOGS were sent back to my editor this morning at 4:30 a.m.

No, I do not sleep. Ever.

Unhealthy insomnia patterns aside, I want to share a story. Since my fiance has been working nights and I days, we rarely see each other. I've been waking up when he gets home around 7:00 a.m. so we can do breakfast/dinner, catch up on the last 24 hours of madness and walk the polar bears. When I mentioned my first-round of revisions were nearly complete he asked:

"Is it even the same book?"

At first I didn't understand, because of course it was the same book. He listed off a few of the revision requests I'd had since the original manuscript was completed, though, and that got me wondering. How much had changed?

I dug through my Zhukov folder (because I am one of those crazy ones that has a folder for everything, and each folder has multiple subfolders) for the original version. The oldest completed version I have is from May 14th, 2012. It was definitely completed at least a month prior to that, but I can't find a specific record. This original version is a modest 85K words in length, lacks two very significant characters, one very crucial plot point, and features multiple scenes that don't actually yield to the overarching story in a profound way. I really loved it at the time, though, and looking back on it makes me all nostalgic. It also helps me see what the fiance was getting at.

The first-round revisions I sent in this morning were more like the sixth-round. Prior to this revision, I hired a professional editor, had a publishing house request extensive revision, received a revision request from my now-agent, and received a minor revision request from my now-house's acquiring editor.

My point: a lot of work goes into a book. All the aforementioned people helped strengthen my book, brought in elements that made it something I can't wait to share with the world, and believed in me. Consider this my informal "thank you for helping me make the same book a billion times better" until the Acknowledgement page is printed.

It's Official

...Well, technically it's been official for nearly two months and I'm just terrible at blogging.

I'm getting published!!! (too many exclamation points, I know Kimberley)

My debut novel, ZHUKOV'S DOGS, was taken in by Curiosity Quills Press on January 22nd, 2014. Since then I've completed first-round revisions, graphics sheets, marketing plans and created an official author Facebook page. Currently I'm waiting to hear back about revisions to see if more are necessary or if we can move forward with the new version. There were no major changes to the original manuscript, merely mention of something important slightly earlier to prevent too extreme of a 'huh, what?' moment at the end.

Now then, I must be off to sleep because I've recently taken on a grown up job that requires me to be up by 8 a.m. five days a week. Yaaaaaay. Check back tomorrow for details about Book #2. Here's a hint: witch doctor.

Outlines. Why I Hate Them & Why I Made One.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have just realized something extraordinarily life-changing. Pokemon are not getting uglier. Those of us born to generations Red and Blue have simply grown older. We're jaded. We're like the angry old man who sits on the porch and shakes his fist at kids who get too close to his lawn of 150 original, perfect blades of grass. While I pity the seven-year-old who excitedly begins his first Pokemon adventure with X and Y, who am I to tell him that he's doing it wrong? A sentimental old fool who begins every battle with "Back in the day we played our Pokemon in black and white, two-dimensional peace. I think that's what heaven will be like some...TURN DOWN THAT DUBSTEP NONSENSE!"

So that's my nerd rant. I should probably talk about writing now to redeem myself a bit.

I wrote an outline! Resentfully and with some help from my Absolut friend, I wrote it! This might not sound like some grand achievement to most of you, but let me explain. I haven't written an start-to-finish outline for anything other than school papers. Even back then I only wrote them if they were being collected for a grade. I do not outline. Plain and simple. I prefer to write things as they come to me, living in the moment just like my character does. Yes, it's a bit reckless and has gotten me into a fair share of (long) writer's blocks, but I hate laying out the entire story before it happens. I enjoy sharing that 'what now' moment with my character and I feel that it lends to the believability of the story.

So what was different about this time, you ask? Well, put simply, it's complicated. There are too many elements that I have to juggle and I'm not familiar enough with any of said elements to neglect a single one. As I've mentioned before, I looooove research because a story's integrity and believability are very high on my priority list. I'm learning some hardcore hacking and coding, digging into subdivisions of the CIA with limited public access, crosschecking facts with professional and basically setting myself up for a fun conversations with the NSA. It's a lot. So the other night as I sat there surveying the mess in front me I realized how easily something could get lost in the pages to come--something including me.

Thus, the outline was born.

It took four hours and sixteen pages (I don't mess around with my bullet points) AND IT IS MAGNIFICENT. That said, however, I will strive to never write another outline as long as I live. It will be helpful to me as the story progresses, yes, and it's not set in stone or anything, yes, but my God I cried at least twice! Spoilers! Spoilers everywhere! I feel like I've completely ruined the story for myself. It's not a journey anymore, it's a game of connect the dots.

Do I regret outlining? A bit, yeah, but at the same time I feel like I can focus more on writing the story now and less about getting my facts in place. I guess it's a double-edge sword. Outlines make stories easier in the long run and help keep writers out of ruts, but if you're weird like me it isn't always worth it. I'm sure things will change as I write and the story may even end up going in completely different directions. For now, though, I'm off to play a game of connect the dots.

Rejuvenating Rejections

I don't understand California. Perhaps it's the weather or perhaps it's the people, but for whatever reason I simply can't seem to get my footing in this place. The fiance (formerly the boyfriend), the polar bears and I have officially settled into our new home in Marina del Rey. It's nothing like our 20th floor corner unit in Seattle. Apparently those don't exist in this area because of the danger and frequency of earthquakes. Aside from the city being vertically challenged, it's also full of smokers and people who drive like complete assholes. Not a fan.

Forgive my negativity. I'm just homesick.

In other news, I received the kindest and most encouraging rejection letter today. My agent, Kimberley Cameron, forwards me the feedback she receives from publishing houses reviewing my manuscript. It's startling how similar their response formats are to the sort I myself received when querying agents. I thought there might be some sort of secret publishing world code between agents and editors, but no, it's almost identical!

Now I know that nobody likes rejection letters, but in my experience there's something to be gained out of each one. For example, the one I received today was actually delightful. I've pasted a segment below.

I want to thank you so much for sending me ZHUKOV’S DOGS. I definitely agree that Amanda is a talented writer, and I was impressed with the ease of her world-building in this novel. I may just be a doomsday survivalist at heart, but her decimated cityscapes and underground communities read a little too believably. In any case, if I start hoarding canned food, you can tell her it’s her doing.

It went on like that for a while and I was spinning in my chair long after I finished reading. Sadly it was a pass in the end due to genre classification, but I wasn't discouraged by that at all. This is the kind of rejection I enjoy getting. It pointed out exactly where my strengths were and highlighted the editor's favorite moments.

While we all want to send publishing houses into bidding wars, it's more important to find people who get your vision. People who don't just love the book as much as you do, but people who are willing to put as much effort into the book as you have. Rejections like the one above assure me that there are people who migrate towards what my manuscript embodies and that it's only a matter of time until Kimberley and I find the perfect home for it.

That being said, not all rejections are as fun to get. In my experience there are three distinctly different types of rejection letters and it's important to distinguish the weight each one carries with it. I've listed them below with my own take on said rejections written in italics.

1. The Form.
   
   You know it the second you open it.
   
   Thank you for your recent submission. We receive hundreds of submissions every month and consider each one of them carefully. Unfortunately we do not feel that your manuscript is a good fit for our agency. We wish you luck in finding a home for your manuscript elsewhere.
   
   That's about the jist of the one permanently engraved in my memory. They vary slightly from house to house, but I'm sure you get the idea. A bland, two-line rejection which leaves most writers feeling dismissed and belittled.
   
   It is soooo very important that writers don't take form rejections personally. Yes, they sting quite a bit, but writers need to understand that houses aren't exaggerating when they say they receive hundreds of submissions a month. During the PNWA Conference last year I recall a panel in which agents were asked how many clients they take on every year. Their response varied from two to ten. If they go through hundreds of submissions a month and take on less than a dozen clients a year, it's understandable why they can't personalize each and every rejection they send. Agents and editors are human, after all, just like us.
   
2. The False Hope.
   
   It feels so good at first and then...BAM. And, just because I experienced this one so often while I was querying back in the day, I'm going to include the inner dialogue all writers experience when encountering The False Hope (in parenthesis like this).
   
   Dear (omg they actually included my name!),
   
   Thank you for sharing your TITLE OF MANUSCRIPT (omg they included the title too!) with me. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it and your writing style is very impressive. My favorite part was how you did THIS and THAT (omg that was my favorite part too!). At the end, when X did SOMETHING to Y in the Z after THAT ONE THING, I was in tears (omg I cried when I wrote it! this person understands!). MORE AND MORE PRAISE WITH PLENTY OF WONDERFUL SPECIFICS WHICH MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE A BOSS. THEN... Unfortunately (wait...), while I loved the concept, I do not (no! don't say it!) feel confident enough in it's execution (execute me instead) to take it on. I wish you the best of luck and am sure that you will find a home for your manuscript elsewhere.
   
   Wow. Just reliving it hurts. Praise, praise, praise, plop. It's so very heartbreaking when you first read it that you don't even see the pounds of constructive criticism piled on before the drop of the axe. These rejections are invaluable to a writer because it tells them what worked and what didn't. If an agent or editor ever takes the time to point out specific sections it's because those sections really stood out in their mind. As mentioned before, houses get hundreds of submissions a month. If they took the time to hammer out a personalized reply like The False Hope, it wasn't because they wanted to make you cry. It's because your writing impressed them and they wanted you to know that they saw your potential. So, once you blink the tears from your eyes, go back and take another look.
   
3. The Once More With Feeling.
   
   The most elusive rejection out there. If you ever see it, rejoice. Rejoice and then prepare. It goes in the same fashion as The False Hope with a slightly different conclusion.
   
   While I loved the concept, I feel as though the story's overall execution needs work. Would you consider a revision and resubmit of your manuscript?
   You were close, but not close enough. Fortunately, they saw a spark in your work and are willing to give you a second chance. Revisions and resubmits are long, excruciating processes in my experience. During my year of querying I garnered two different Once More With Feelings. One took less than a month while the other took four months. The most important thing to remember when doing revisions is to not lose your vision in the process. It's okay to consider any suggestions an agent or editor makes, but remember: it's your story. Tell it the way you think it should be told.

There's also the classic "no reply" rejection. That one is pretty self-explanatory, though, and I've been on my soapbox long enough tonight. The cardboard's starting to cave under my weight, so I'll step down and leave you with this...

How many science fiction writers does it take to screw in a light bulb?

Two, but it's actually the same person doing it. He went back in time and met himself in the doorway and then the first one sat on the other one's shoulder so that they were able to reach it. Then a major time paradox occurred and the entire room, light bulb, changer and all was blown out of existence. They co-existed in a parallel universe, though.

Turning 98,000 Words Into One...Maybe Two.

So one of the things Kimberley and I discussed yesterday was the need to find a new title for my novel. I'm completely fine with that and thought it would be a fun little adventure. There's just one problem...coming up with a new title is proving to be a greater challenge than writing the novel itself. I have a few ideas I'm tossing around, but nothing is really jumping out at me yet.

When I first started writing the novel formerly known as Zhukov I had no clue what to call it. I think when I was drafting up an outiline, not even really committed to the idea yet, I saved it as something like Seattle Underground Thingum. Later it was renamed Zhukov, after the protagonist.

Every once in a while I'd stop and tell myself I needed to come up with a better title. Part of me really liked calling it Zhukov though! I mean it sounds strong and gritty. I guess that can be said for a lot of Russian names. Say it a few times. No, no. Say it out loud. There. See what I mean? But alas, I have always known it was a working title and I am so glad that my agent agrees! Onward to a new title!

EXCITING NEWS

It's official! As of today, I am represented by Kimberley Cameron of the Kimberley Cameron & Associates Literary Agency!

Oh Goodness..

So there I am just watching the latest episode of The Walking Dead when my phone lights up. The little icon says I've got a voicemail. I groan (partially because of Norman Reedus and partially because of my phone's lack of coverage in my own apartment) and tell myself I'll check it later since it's probably just mum anyways. The episode ends. I call my voicemail. At first it sounds like this old friend I've lost contact with, especially when the first thing she says "Well that's an interesting voicemessage." I'm combing the archives of my mind for that one friend's name when all of a sudden I realize... it's an agent.

AN AGENT.

Guys. An agent called me. An agent called me and heard my ridiculous voicemail greeting. I like to think it sounds something like "MandaMandaIN'DA'MORNIN" like the "Troy and Abed in the morning" jingle. It probably doesn't.

Oh, and by 'an agent' I don't just mean 'an agent.' I'm talking about one of my top five dream agents, Kimberly Cameron. It took almost ten minutes for me to calm down enough to call her back. I kicked my boyfriend out and distracted the polar bears with bones, but I was still so addled that I tripped over my own name when she answered...I can't even feel embarrassed about my voicemail because of how awesome I feel about that call.

Finishing Touches

At what point is a revised manuscript ready to be sent out? For me it's the point shortly after three and a half months of sleepless nights spent hunched over a keyboard. The same three and a half months I've also spent working a full-time job with terrible hours, and suffering through the stress joys which go along with going back to school. In those three and a half months I've completely reworked Zhukov.

Secret-sharing time folks. When I first agreed to do a revision, I was terrified. My mind went absolutely nuts. The request came on the tail end of other responses to material I'd sent out around the same time. While quite a few were positive, most of the responses I'd gotten up until that moment were rejections. As a writer, I am prepared for and ready to accept rejection. As a twenty-two-year-old female, that acception comes with it's own pint of Ben & Jerry's Americone Dream.

I read the email at least half a dozen times start to finish before I believed it. I'd heard of revisions, but what did they entail? I scoured the internets for answers and reached out to all of the wonderful people I'd met at writing conferences. What I found, was one giddy congratulation after another with little accompanying words of wisdom and reassurance which felt more like a pat on the head than anything helpful.

Please, don't get me wrong! Of course I was thrilled! Who wouldn't squeal and bounce around the living room after finding a request for a revision and resubmit in their inbox? Heck, I do that for partials! ((Maybe, if you ask nicely, I'll share my 'omg what do you mean you want the full manuscript' song and dance)). When you stop bouncing, though, it all falls into prospective. Someone believes in you and your work enough to give you another chance. Sometimes, as in my situation, they are even go so far as to specifically tell you what worked, what didn't, and what they want to see happen instead.

You're probably thinking "Psh, that sounds awesome! Why were you terrified?"

Because, grasshopper, with twenty plus pages of editorial notes in your hands and an 82,000-word manuscript on your desktop THE PRESSURE IS ON. Something you've poured your soul into must be picked apart, reexamined, and put back together in a way which both you and the person you're working with can agree on.

You've been given a second chance. In a world of *insert generic rejection*'s, you've been given a second chance. Keep calm. Take your time. Don't blow it.

Three and a half months might seem like a long time to spend on a revision, but it was the time I needed. At first I thought I could turn it around in a month. I probably could have, but it wouldn't have been everything that the editor who requested the revision and I believed it could be. My manuscript is a thousand times stronger than it was before and I am finally ready to send it back with my head held high and the confidence that the odds of me throwing up from nervousness as my cursor lingers over the 'send' button are only one in five.

As a writer, I tell myself to be patient. As a twenty-two-year-old female, I tell myself that checking my inbox every five minutes is totally not excessive.