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Thursday, January 22, 2009

The Hostess Gift That Sucks Your Blood

Michelle Obama reportedly brought a hostess gift to coffee at the White House on Tuesday: a journal and pen for Laura Bush, who sold her memoir to Scribner for $1.6 million.   (First Lady Hillary got $8 million). As surely has been pointed out by others, perhaps the bargain rate for Bush was due to her life being scooped  by the Curtis Sittenfeld's novel, American Wife

Anyway, it was a lovely gesture...or, for those in the know, a sarcastic dig, as in "Good luck, sucker; it's not as easy as it looks."  Though I suppose it's an entirely different thing to "write" a memoir than it is to actually write a memoir.  

So let's go with choice (a) Mrs. Obama is a gracious lady.  

She could have even wrapped the present up with Aretha's hat on top!  Don't you love that fabulous hat?  

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

This is a Photograph of an Art Installation Showing the Non-Gendered Nature of Flabby Thighs

A recent anonymous commenter (apparently from the past) posted this criticism, and so I thought I'd share:

I too think there's a problem with LROD. About a year ago W/R started to chase real dissidents away. By dissidents, I mean people who think that there is somthing basically wrong with literary fiction today. We were characterized as attack dogs; we got taken to the woodshed for incivility (others could be as nasty as they wanted); when one of us made an appearance, comments immediately appeared, belittling what we had to say (and not addressing the content of our thoughts). I think W/R has backed off; he could see a deadly blandness setting in (which means a loss of readers; this blog, for him, has become a form of success). I think the only thing that bothers W/R about the literary scene is that he's not Inside it. Those who want to tear down the country clubhouse are threatening the building he wants to be In. Some predicament! Sorry if this sounds harsh. We all have an agenda. I just don't find yours, W/R, to be one I agree with. I've referred to you as a "he." Don't know about that. Women are typically concerned about flabby thighs.

Agree or disagree—or in between? (Since I'm third-gendered, I necessarily fall somewhere in between.)

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

A Very Good Day

The above "form letter" (fake invitation?) came in a fancy ivory envelope from the Inaugural Committee accompanied by a piece of paper reminding me that I might want to stay at home and watch the inauguration on TV.  Did I need an invitation?  Can't I go to my Nation's Capital any day of the week, and find my own accommodations, and be excluded from all sorts of events and parties?  I will admit, however, that I was fooled at first, and kind of excited, ("Like, oooh, Barack invited me because I volunteered and gave him money!"); it made me laugh at myself.  
Despite all that, I felt a great deal of hope today.  And now, to work.  May the force be with him.

All Rhodes Lead to Rejection

Anonymous has come to my rescue riding in on an unusual form rejection letter received in 2005 from Jodie Rhodes.  The justification: Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. Now that's what I call disclosure!  What do you guys think?

In part, I sympathize with Ms. Rhodes because I have slept in wrists braces for years. Everyone in my family has Carpal Tunnel, and everyone has undergone surgery, but recently I started doing these exercises to align the body, improve range of motion, and strengthen the shoulder, thigh, abdominal and calf muscles, while lengthening the back and hip flexor muscles.  All of it is supposed cure chronic aches and pains, including wrist pain from insane 24-hour computer use, which aptly describes my life.  And guess what?  It pretty much worked. I'm almost cured. 

 So, I'm not going to bust Jodie Rhodes' chops, even though she once rejected me.

Monday, January 19, 2009

It's All (Going To Be) Good Now

So, people are gathering in the nation's capital for the big change of 2009. As for me, I'm staying home to work on my novel. But kids, I'm saying it now, in celebration of hope and as sure as the Washington Monument symbolizes a phallus: This is the year that I publish the bitch! (And I mean that in the best possible sense of the word because I happen to be back in love with my novel.)

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Friday, January 16, 2009

For The Super Famous Only


So many New Yorker rejections, so little time.  It's a wonder in this day and age that anyone still tries to get published there.  A friend said that they're like the mafia: they come to you (your agent).  Otherwise, forget it. Just to give you an idea of whose been published there recently:
Joyce Carol Oates, Donald Antrim, William Trevor, Amos Oz, Edwidge Danticat, Jonathan Lethem, Louise Erdich, Roddy Doyle, Yiyun Li, Alice Munro, Tobias Wolff, Joshua Ferris, T. Coraghessan Boyle, and Vladimir Nabokov.
It makes me laugh to think that in my youth I thought I was going to get in print with these literary fat cats.  Oh well, it's good to dream big. 

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

What Does It Mean?

A reader asked for a feature story about the meaning of the economic crisis on publishing, besides canned tuna and fewer publishing lunches.  Unfortunately I don't really have a cogent summation, except to say it probably means even more rejections for you and me. Here's what people are saying:
So, hang on to your whiskers, it's going to be a rough ride.

Sorree, It's No For Mee

Here's a form rejection letter from an agent I've never heard of before: Sheree Bykofsky. You've got to love the creative spelling of her first name?  Also, she seems rather earnest and sorry (sorree?) to give you the slip.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

The Royal British Publishing Snub

Keeping to my International theme of late, here's a form rejection from what appears to be a British publishing house.  Anyone know the outfit or the publishing director?  It's a rather chilly rub off, no?

Monday, January 12, 2009

Is that German for "Buzz Off, Bad Writer"?

I don't speak German, and the recipient of the above rejection, (worst)writer: trying to fail better, didn't explain the situation on his/her excellent blog, but I'm pretty sure there's some highly insulting German attitude going on here.  

Anyone care to translate and decode the snarky English marginalia?

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Please Don't Say "Wovel" Unless You Are Choking

Our friend Kate Evans points out this little gem from NPR...or should I say wem? Here's a highlight: "The way we read is changing. Time once spent curled up with a good book is now often devoted to catching up on blogs, and browsing Web sites. One publishing company is trying to take advantage of those habits, offering fiction in serial form, online....
"A wovel is a Web novel," [Victoria] Blake says. "There's an installment every Monday. At the end of every installment, there's a binary plot branch point with a vote button at the end."

p.s. Guess what the wagon wheel/snow shovel device pictured above is called.  (Hint: A wovel.)

Friday, January 9, 2009

Bad Satire, Really Bad


File this foolishness under "What was the New York Times thinking when they published this?" category.  May Julian Gough should stick to satirical novels.  Just saying.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Unless You're a TV-Star Cat

A depressing death knoll is ringing over at the Wall Street Journal in an article by Anita Elberse called "Blockbuster or Bust: Why struggling publishers will keep pacing outrageous bids on new books." The long and short of it is that if you're not Tina Fey, Sarah Silverman, or you're writing a book about fuzzy kittens or rascaly puppies, you're screwed.  I can't even lift my head to give you the highlights.  Just go over there yourself.

Appel Words of Wisdom: Part II

Here's a continuation from yesterday's post, in which I ran some highlights from Jacob Appel's article in Poets & Writers entitled "The Case for Contests."  (More highlights just for you, little rodents):  

"Of course, multiple submissions can be costly. While a single contest fee is not going to drive even the poorest writer into bankruptcy, once one starts sending out ten- and twenty-dollar checks by the handful, the sacrifices entailed may seem prohibitive. Yet I urge my students to submit their fees anyway.  Find a way!  If they were studying to be physicians or attorneys, I remind them, they would pay far greater sums for multiple years of schooling--banking on a future payoff.  To my mind, creative writing is as much a career as medicine or law, even if the odds of meaningful financial gain are considerably lower (especially if you are a poet)....
...
"What appeal to me most about writing contests, on a personal level, is that somebody has to win.  Well, I should qualify that.  Occasionally, a final judge declines to declare a victor and the sponsor pockets the entry fees anyway.  But for the most part, somebody walks away with a garland and a large check and an entree into the literary limelight.  At a time when more and more structural barriers and layers of protection prevent obscure and emerging writers from having their work considered by major publishing houses, or published in glossy magazines--and ultimately landing on bookstore and library shelves--the literary competition is the unknown author's best friend.  A good contest opens doors to anybody with a ten- or fifteen-dollar check and a brilliant work of original literature..."

Oh, wait, one more part of Appel's article for a little hair-raising fun!  I thought it was interesting:  "Several years ago," writes Appel, "I entered the St. Louis Short Story Competition, a contest with a five-dollar entry fee and a five-thousand-dollar grand prize.  To my delight, my story "Counting" was declared the grand-prize winner on the competition's Web site.  Alas, the swindlers administering the contest never paid up.  (I do not take such matters lightly, as bad actors of this sort tarnish the reputation of contests more generally.  In fact I pursued the matter with law enforcement authorities in Missouri--up to and including the state's attorney general--and the FBI. The investigation is ongoing; the mills of justice grind finely, but slowly.)  Even under these exasperating circumstances, a contest victory succeeded in garnering me multiple inquires from reputable agents who had read my "winning" story on the Internet."