Both are kind of a bad idea.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Anyways, it got me thinking about what I would be for Halloween this year if I was dressing up (which I am definitely NOT), and sadly I think I'd have to be a green eyed monster. It has been years since I've been really, truly jealous of anyone. Back in college I got jealous when this horrible girl tried to steal my boyfriend, and let's just say that ended with a horrible fake trip and approximately one pint of keg beer being poured all over said girl's head. So, safe to say that I don't handle the whole jealous rage thing all that well.
Lately I find myself lurking on message boards reading stories about writers who have found agents or recently signed huge publishing deals and I am completely consumed by jealousy. I know, I know it's so completely childish, but I just can't seem to stop myself. I read their queries and excerpts from their books and compare them to what we've written, it's like I've turned into the Blair Waldorf of writers. I'm a hot, catty, mess.
I'm working on conquering the monster, really, I am. I just can't make any promises. So...umm...any published or agented authors out there, if you happen to see a shortish girl with a slightly crazed look in her eyes and a little blue monster clamped onto one of her legs hobbling towards you with a full glass of beer, one word of advice: RUN.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Anyways, I'm shutting down the computer, putting the kids to bed early and pouring myself a huge glass of wine. Cheers!
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Just to give you some background, I'm totally paranoid about identity theft because I've read all the horror stories about not being able to buy houses or cars because some jackass has buried you in $25,000 of credit card debt. Anyways, I've been busy obsessing about whether our house is going to go into foreclosure because someone took out a sub-prime mortgage on a condo in Fort Lauderdale, and then today we received flowers.
Correction, my husband received flowers. The note was somewhat mysterious, saying only "IUY." I've googled it, tried to decode it, would love to hear any theories on what this might mean. At first I thought my husband's girlfriend was sending him coded messages, but then he reminded me (somewhat defensively, I might add) that his credit card had recently been stolen. Cue complete paranoia. I was on the phone with the FTD.com faster than you can say "bankruptcy" only to find that they have some useless confidentiality clause (I mean who are they protecting here? Secret admirers?) and they could not disclose the sender. Finally, I ended up checking the stolen credit card and there it was a $41.99 charge on FTD.com for our cheap-ass flowers.
So, to be clear, our identity thief sent us flowers. Did he do this to thank us for the porn? To soften the blow of having someone steal our credit card? To taunt us? Isn't this totally bizarre? I think Stacey has the best theory I've heard so far, perhaps the thief meant to write IOU on the card instead of IUY. Not bad, Stace...
The funniest part of this entire situation is that in Ken's world, buying flowers is so unusual that it actually sets off fraud alerts. Classic.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Yeah, we're so money and we don't even know it,
Lisa and Laura
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Now, just to provide a little background here, Lisel had a very specific conversation with her sister, let's call her Laurel, earlier that evening about not sending out any new queries before their big Vegas trip this weekend. I mean, really, what's the point of querying if you're not going to be around to refresh your e-mail every 2 minutes.
Ahh, but there was one name on that list that called to Lisel like a siren's song. Their website looked so promising. The agents/editors sounded so fun. Lisel just knew that they would love the book, yet one essential piece was missing. No submissions policy. Hmm...this was unheard of. Usually, submissions policies are prominently featured on agency websites, but this place is new and has a different (and very cool) business model for marketing and publishing books, so Lisel did the unthinkable. She picked up the phone.
Now, those of you who have never attempted to find an agent before might not realize this, but calling agents is strictly verboten. Agents are busy. Agents don't have time to hear from lowly aspiring authors. Agents are gods that control the fate of your sorry ass book, and you really, really don't want to piss them off. Anyways, Lisel, under the mistaken assumption that no one would ever answer the phone at 11:11 PM, called their offices hoping for a message that would provide clues regarding their submissions policy.
So, Lisel's itchy little fingers dialed the number to the office and the phone rang once, twice and then "Hello?" Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Lisel realized that this was not good. Not only was she caught violating the golden rule of agent querying, but she was also violating said rule at 11:11 PM on a Tuesday night. She quickly ran through her options. She could hang up. She could lie and say she had the wrong number. Or she could just ask about the stupid submissions policy. So little Lisel did what came naturally and apolgetically asked about the submissions policy, and while the agent/editor didn't exactly hang up on her, she did sound slightly frazzled by the totally random call. Fabulous first impression, Lisel. Just fab.
Now some people might decide to call it a night after such an eventful evening, but Lisel isn't some people. Now that she's broken the rules she figures she might as well really piss Laurel off and send the damn query. I mean, it certainly couldn't hurt, right? Who knows, this agency might actually enjoy crazy, stalker-like phone calls from prospective clients at 11:11 PM on a Tuesday night, right? RIGHT?
Well, anyways, I'm sure we'll all be hearing about Laura, I mean, Laurel's reaction to this debacle tomorrow. Let's just hope she hasn't saved the pictures from Sophomore year homecoming. Ouch.
In journalism class my junior year of high school, we had to invent a product and create a commercial for it, which our teacher video taped. I invented a lotion that when applied to your face, eliminated all imperfections—pimples, unwanted facial hair, you name it. Way to draw attention to all of my insecurities—go team! I hope to God that teacher destroyed the video tape. How embarrassing.
Y2K Clock—I can’t take all of the credit for this one. This was a Roecker Family idea. In 1999, we brainstormed ways to create a clock that would hit 12:00 on the New Year and self-destruct. We thought it would be hilarious. We also thought we could make a lot of money. Neither happened.
I still think this next one is a good idea. A device that you plug in while blow drying your hair that sucks up all the hairs that fall out. Go ahead, inventor, grab that one up. I would buy it.
I have some more up my sleeve (and yes, some ideas are as recent as last year). But, I have to say, Lisa’s idea for our book is definitely the best idea to date. Now we just have to find an agent who feels the same way.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Happy 30th Birthday!
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
So I'm turning 30 in approximately 49 minutes, and do you want to know what I'm doing? Asking virtual magic 8 balls if we're going to get an agent for our book.This is pathetic. 18-year-old Lisa would be totally humiliated that this is how her soon-to-be-30-year-old self is spending her birthday eve.
Hmm...I wonder what else 18-year-old Lisa might say to her 30-year-old counterpart. This calls for some bullets...
- Skinny jeans, really? Have you seen our butt lately?
- So, let me get this straight, you're married to the guy we dated in high-school AND you have 2 kids? Who are you?
- Do you at least have a cool job? I'm sorry, did you just say that you work in human resources? Good god, what have you done to us!
- *GASP* And what the hell happened to our stomach!?
- Whoa, Tara lives in Cleveland and she's got two kids too? Seriously?
- This has got to be some sort of joke. Next you're going to tell me that our little sister, Stacey, is knocked-up and married to Erik, my boyfriend's, excuse me, our husband's best friend. I'm sorry, are you nodding your head? NO! Shut the f*ck up. What the hell is going on here!?
Ooops, sorry about 18-year-old Lisa's potty mouth. She's probably drunk. Thursday nights were big party nights back in the day. Anyways, always fun to be reminded of how lame I am.
And seriously, if by some random twist of fate an agent is reading this, have some sympathy for a girl on her birthday. If nothing else, I'll at least have something cool to report to my 18-year-old self...
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Anyways, my only hope is that instead of celebrating Columbus Day by watching a Project Runway Marathon like the rest of us, that agents are instead spending their day off reading our riveting manuscript. So, I'm just assuming that tomorrow morning our phone will be ringing off the hook with offers of representation.
Do you hear me Christopher Columbus? You have a chance to redeem yourself here. Make it happen.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Have you been watching Tim Gunn's Guide to Style? It's fabulous. It's great because the fashion victims on the show aren't wearing stone-washed jeans or over sized sweatshirts, they're just sort of average. They shop at the Gap and Banana Republic, but just don't really know how to dress their own body. I can totally relate! I mean, I'm not completely hopeless, but I will admit to practically living in Uggs from October - March. I know, I know, it's tragic, but they're comfortable and warm, so lay off, all right?
The only thing keeping me from sending in my application is the way they raid your underwear drawer. Can you even imagine?? I think Tim Gunn might pass out if he was forced to paw through my stretched out, holey, cotton underwear. It gives me the chills just thinking about it. I bet he secretly would love to use tongs or slip on plastic gloves before touching underwear and the producers just won't let him. Renegotiatate your contract, Tim! America will understand.
Of course, the humiliation of the underwear drawer would be totally outweighed by the amazingness of a Tim Gunn makeover. Last week, the girl on the show had a dress personally made by J. Mendel AND he gave her a pair of the most amazing Louboutain black stilettos that I've ever laid eyes on. She looked like a totally different person. I'm so jealous...
So, if my dreams of being a published author end up collapsing, I'm going to throw myself at Tim Gunn's feet and hope that he'll take pity on me. I mean, if my dreams are dead, I might as well look fabulous, right?
On that note, we've had some more requests come in over the past couple of days, so yay! We still have a ton of queries outstanding, so keep your fingers crossed for us. Sending our manuscript out to agents is SO nerve wracking. I spend about 75% of my day wondering if an agent is reading what we sent...ugh. We'll keep you posted.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Monday, October 6, 2008
Those of you who know me, know that I don't take risks. The perfect example is that I've worked at the same boring company since I graduated college - 7 years! Don't get me wrong, it's a perfectly adequate job. It pays well, tons of flexibility so I get lots of time with the kids, but is it fulfilling? No. Do I jump out of bed every morning itching to start my work? No. Do I love it? Not even close.
Reading and writing has always been my first love, but I never dared to dream of becoming a writer. Too risky. Too impractical. Too scary. Even when I was choosing a major in college, practicality tempered my dreams and I ended up with a double major in Marketing and English Literature. While my friends looked for glam jobs in PR and advertising, I ended up at an HR consulting firm. I was practical. I was boring. I was safe. I read books on the weekends, and I entertained my friends and family with funny e-mails. Inevitably, people would comment on my writing and ask why I didn't write or blog or whatever, and I just brushed them off. Not for me, I would think. I can't possibly do something like that.
And then out of nowhere, Laura and I got this idea. The most amazing idea for a book. And I fell in love. Suddenly, all I can think about is our book. I dream about our characters and for the first time in my life, I stop reading and I write. I write to make Laura laugh. I write to make my family proud. But mostly I write for me.
Now here we are doing something that's completely selfish, totally impractical, and 100% fulfilling. So every request we get, gives me hope. Hope that I can do the one thing I've always dreamed of doing. And every rejection reminds me of why I never dared to dream this big before. Because when you dream big you often fall hard.
So...here we are. Hearts on our sleeves. Putting ourselves out there for the first time ever. It's terrifying. It's consuming. It's amazing.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Anyways, this document is as done as it's ever going to be, and I'm not reading it again until we have an agent. That's final.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Anyways, I've done all the research, I know that this is a common rookie mistake in the world of queries and agent searches, but it still sucks.
Oh well, not much we can do now except wait and hope that someone requests a partial or a full, because this new beginning is going to blow them away. Well, at least until I think of something better...
Thursday, October 2, 2008
So, instead of being sad about our form rejections I'm trying to remind myself (and Laura) that these agents just weren't right for us. But each rejection is personal and we can't help but feel a little bit shocked when people say that it's not for them because, you know, our book is PERFECT.
Back to waiting and back to hoping. This will turn out better than the SHS poetry contest...I can feel it. And hey, if nothing else, at least our book doesn't rhyme.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
So it’s been a minute. Or 10. Or truthfully more like 2,102,400. At least we think that’s how many minutes there are in 3 years, but let...
So it’s been a minute. Or 10. Or truthfully more like 2,102,400. At least we think that’s how many minutes there are in 3 years, but let...
1. I have 10 minutes before the kids come home after their last day of school and instead of showering, I'm blogging. This is a terrible...