The agent query process continues. And continues. And continues. Find the agent, research the agent, research their successes, research their interests, read their blog, read their tweets, and try to read some books they've represented. If all this wasn't recommended by highly regarded professionals, I would feel like a stalker.
It's very possible I may be making this more difficult than it strictly needs to be, but I know how high my anxiety will be as I await responses to my query letters, and I don't want to be kicking myself for not going over every query letter with a fine-tooth comb. My best efforts are still going to be a tad raw--that's inevitable with any new writing format. Give me ten years of writing query letters and I'll be able to toss them off like Shakespeare penning limericks. (Ok, maybe not with that level of ease, but certainly more comfortably than my present nail-biting state.) But I want to spare myself the forehead-smacking hindsight that follows shoddy preparation.
At least I know that my queries will be far from the worst that any agent receives this year--or possibly this month! I've heard stories of agents and editors receiving manuscripts with cash taped inside, toys attached, 8 x 11 glossy photos of the writer included (are we trying to get published or cast in a Broadway musical?), and even one I'll never forget where some creative individual fastened a disposable diaper around the manuscript and included a note reading, "Please take care of my baby."
The editor who received that last one didn't even bother to look at the title before ditching the thing straight into the trash.
Still, in my perfect world, a query letter like this would land me the best agent ever:
Dear So-and-So,
How's it hanging? You don't know me, and I don't know you, but you represent great novels and I wrote one. It's a match made in heaven. Here's the manuscript; I recommend reading that with some slices of plum, a wedge of Humboldt Fog, fresh baguette and a glass of Willamette Valley pinot noir. Chilled, of course.
Looking forward to your call,
Z.D.
Ah, if only....
As it is, I should probably have all 45 of my agent queries out by the end of the week. I plan on celebrating with a visit to my favorite patisserie. I am also starting to suspect I may have been one of Pavlov's dogs in a previous life.
Green Dreams
It's that time of year in Ohio where the green of spring is fully sprouted, and the air is heavy with storms. The result is a feeling of lushness that makes every residential sidewalk, every overgrown ditch, every carefully planted park seem luxurious. It's as though nature has finally reached a point where she can relax; having made it through the winter, she has pushed forth new growth and nurtured it to the point of confidence. The heat and potential drought of summer is not yet come, but the risk of a late frost is far, far gone.
Every tree branch heavy with vibrance reminds me of a young adult sprawling on a couch after receiving their first raise: the world is their oyster, indeed.
Such a piquant moment in the season inspires me. It's a short story in light, in color, in scent and in sight. I wish I could bottle it, and sip it on cold winter days like a potent liquor. I wish I could stir it into lemonade, and enter the brew in a contest at a country fair (I'd win for sure). I wish I could rub it into the skin of my hands when a long day of work leaves my skin looking two decades older, and see time reverse itself over the landscape between my knuckles. I wish I could use it as lip gloss, and kiss my husband deeply.
Serious Crunch: Thai Slaw
Summer in neigh, and in the culinary countryside of America that means one thing, and one thing only: barbecue. (Or, for those of you who think the actual word looks too French: BBQ.)
Americans take their barbecue very seriously. How seriously? If I had a dollar for every barbecue competition, for every "summer grilling" edition of the food magazines, for every BBQ special episode of a food show, for every guest grill expert on other TV shows, and for every TV show that is specifically about "grill masters" and their elaborate smokers, I would have enough money to buy a whole life-pastured cow and have it butchered just for me.
Yum.
Coming from the Pacific Northwest, I did not have a real understanding of barbecue for most of my life. Oh, we can grill up in that corner of the country - we can do things with a cedar plank and a fresh salmon fillet that will give you a deeper understanding of why ancient civilizations worshipped the ocean - but we are largely naive in the ways of true, slow-cooked, long-smoked meats. Tasting real pulled pork made this obvious. It took an episode of "Good Eats," however (Season 7, Episode 4, to be exact), to tell my WHY it was so different. Then I made a couple more forays into states like Tennessee, Texas and Louisiana, and it all came together into a delicious double epiphany: a) BBQ is proof that there is a heaven for livestock, and b) I have neither the skill nor the equipment to make real barbecue myself.
But that's Ok, because somebody has to bring the side-dishes. America's Deep South may make unreasonably good pulled pork and brisket, but their side dishes tend to be...um...interesting. For example: who in their right mind serves macaroni and cheese as a vegetable? In addition to that surprising and unfortunately all-too-often pasty accompaniment, other traditional BBQ sides include some variation of baked beans (tasty, but easy to mess up), collard greens (tasty, but often with so much pork in it that it's even greasier than the BBQ itself), and coleslaw (pre-shredded brassicas from a bag with too much mayo). It has occurred to me that perhaps BBQ sides may follow the 1980's bridesmaid rule: make 'em ugly to increase the appeal of the main event. But just as I did my damnedest to allow my bridesmaids to be as gorgeous as they truly are, I also want to ensure that each dish I serve (or rather, bring to somebody else's BBQ because they have the skills & equipment) will knock your socks off. So in honor of summer, I here present one of my variations on a typical cook-out side. Make, take, and bask in the compliments.
Z.D.'s Thai-influenced Slaw
Dressing:
3 green onions, roots removed, roughly chopped
1/2 bunch fresh cilantro, roughly chopped
2 cloves garlic, roughly chopped
1 resh serrano chile, roughly chopped (use 2 if you like more heat)
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon turmeric
1 Tablespoon ground coriander
1 Cup mayonnaise, or vegan equivalent (use more if you like it thicker)
Veggies:
1 small head purple cabbage, quartered, cored, & finely shredded
3 carrots, peeled & julienned
4 large broccoli stems, peeled & julienned
1/2 Cup fresh pineapple, finely chopped (optional)
8 basil leaves, chiffonade (that's finely shredded for those of you who don't read Julia Child's cookbooks for fun)
- FOR THE DRESSING: If you have a good blender, toss in all the ingredients & blend until ridiculously smooth and a pretty green color. If using a food processor, toss in all ingredients except mayo, and process into a rough paste by using 2-3 second pulses and scraping down the sides. Then add the mayo, and process until the dressing is smooth, scraping sides as necessary. Dressing can be made up to four days ahead, just pour it into a jar and stick in your fridge (but it is best the day it is made).
- TO ASSEMBLE THE SLAW: Toss all the veggies into a large bowl (large bowl, mind you--this makes a lot), then add the pineapple if using. Toss until combined, then add in dressing to taste & toss to mix. Finally, garnish with shredded basil on the top (the basil will bruise if you toss it in, & gets brown if you use it too early--do this lovely & aromatic garnish at the end for best results).
If you - like me - are not a pit master, serve this next to grilled meats like Alton Brown's skirt steak (so easy, and so tasty), a fruit salad with a bit of fresh ginger, and finish the meal with something coconutty, like a cream pie or a tropical-flavored ice cream.
Stuffy Noggin vs. Feline Finesse
Whenever I get sick enough to stay in bed, I think, "The silver lining to all this is that I will have more time to read and write!" Then whatever germs have invaded my body laugh maniacally and render my brain about as useful as a mealy apple. The problem here, apparently, is that my psyche suppresses all memories of previous illness, so I forget how physical ailment - particularly anything that results in sinus congestion - depletes my cognitive energy. Then I not only spend a few days in bed feeling sick, I spend them feeling sick and disappointed.
The only exertion on the part of my imagination at such times is usually limited to spontaneous bursts of sickness-themed parodies of Broadway musical tunes, such as "Hello Mucus" (a variation of "Hello Dolly"), or "Do You Hear the People Sneeze?"
This illness is why, after I was on such a roll, I utterly failed at making any progress in my final story editing OR my agent queries in the last week. I wish my explanation was that I was doing awesome things in Seattle, but the truth is that I was spending an inordinate amount of time on a couch, working my way through two boxes of "Puffs Plus," and watching old episodes of "True Blood" and "My Cat From Hell" (I <3 you Jackson Galaxy)! Which isn't to say my trip was devoid of joy; I got to see lots of friends and do wonderful things with family before the invading microorganisms kicked my ass. But then my nose got so stuffy I couldn't taste my food (one of the saddest effects of a passing cold), and my lethargy rendered writing impossible.
So now I'm back in Ohio, and my illness if 95% gone. It's tempting to feel gloomy at the irony of it all, but fortunately I have an excellent deterrent to such self-pity indulgences: a four-legged, medium-furred, green-eyed beauty who has the subtleties of body language down to a fine art. She knows how to get me out of bed when I want to wallow in stormy thoughts, and she knows how to energize me when I want to collapse in an end-of-day exaggeration of exhaustion. And, as you can clearly see, she also knows how to remind me that I have a laptop patiently awaiting my creative ministrations.
Thank heaven for cats.
The Running List
One of the things I do as a writer is I keep a running list of ideas. Actually, it would be more accurate to say I keep several running lists of ideas: one is plots, one is places, one is snappy bits of dialogue (I am not making this up, when I participate in or happen to over-hear wonderful pieces of conversation, I do my best to remember them word for word until I can write them down). I keep a list of places I want to go visit for inspiration, and I recently joined Pintrest so I can keep a list of recipes that relate to my characters and their unfolding tales. But perhaps one of my favorite lists to revisit is my list of names.
When writing fiction, names can be a challenge. They have to feel right, to sound right, to impart something intangible just by being seen on a page. Many, many authors have employed this tactic over the centuries. The connections could be very obvious: with a first name "Huckleberry" the character is bound to be wild but essentially sweet, and with a last name like "Loman" he's bound to be burnt out and downtrodden. Other times the implications are more subtle, and sometimes not everyone might interpret them the same. For example, I think names that begin with a vowel imply a certain level of vulnerability--which then invites courage. But I have other friends that think names beginning with vowels sound sophisticated, or even regal. So, really, it's all a matter of opinion.
When I'm writing and I find myself in The Zone, it's easy for me to get tripped up trying to find the right name for a character, a town, a restaurant, a band--even a pet! I become distracted, and the more I try to find the perfect fit, the further from The Zone I become. My answer? I keep that running list. Now when I get stuck I flip open that Word document and more often than not, I spot something that will at least work temporarily. Besides which, it's just a fun list to maintain. The other day I was hanging out with some friends and they suggested a great name for a cat would be "Waffles." Now it's on my list. Then I happened to be musing about this while my husband was talking about Austin, TX being "the live music capitol of the world," and suddenly my brain went, "Hey, The Waffles That Ate Manhattan would be a great band name!" So boom: two new names went on the list.
And now I really, really want waffles.
If you've got good names - for anything! - shoot them my way, I'll let you know if they make the list.
The Brownie Shout-out
My background is in psychology. When I first went to college, I knew two things: a) I loved to read and write, and b) being an English major isn't necessarily the fast-track to a lucrative career. So I had this vague notion that I would become a teacher or something. Then I took a Psych 101 class, and I. Was. Hooked. I immediately realized that these psychological theories were doorways to people, both as real individuals and as fictional characters. Freud, Erikson, Skinner, Rogers--they all had their perspectives on how human beings worked, and they were all valid (just as there's no one way to cook with chocolate, there is no one way to comprehend the human mind). It was a turning point in my life, and definitely a turning point in my development as a writer.
This week I'm back in beautiful Seattle, soaking in the evergreen majesty and re-connecting with old friends and acquaintance, many of whom work in mental health. I was ecstatic to see them, and they seemed equally enthusiastic to see me...which may have been augmented by the fact that I brought brownies. I brought them because, well, obviously I love to cook. Also, there's a gentleman among their number with a heart the size of Texas and a stomach to match, and I don't dare appear before him without food. But the main reason I came armed with chocolaty goodness was because a woman very dear to me is retiring soon, and I shan't be able to attend her party. She's gluten-sensitive, so I decided to bust out the best gluten-free brownie recipe I know, which generally astonishes people because it actually looks, tastes, and has the texture of a really good brownie. It's technically a "Paleo" brownie, which means I can more easily pretend it's a health food.* The original recipe by Easy Peasy was given to me by a friend, and makes an 8 x 8 pan. When I started doubling this recipe for a 9 x 13 pan, I made a couple small changes, which I've outlined below.
Z.D.'s Double Batch Easy Peasy 98% Paleo Brownies
2 Cups pure maple syrup
1 & 1/2 Cups baking cocoa
2 Cups natural almond butter (no, you don't have to stir it, because it gets mixed into the batter!)
1 & 1/2 Tablespoons vanilla extract
1 teaspoon baking powder (only 1/4 teaspoon if you want dense, fudgy brownies)
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/8 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg (adds a little something-something)
2 large eggs
1/3 Cup bittersweet baking chocolate, chopped fine (yes, this will have a bit of dairy, which technically ruins the "paleo" aspect, but I think the milkier chocolate accents the brownie flavor better)
Grease for your pan (such as coconut oil, shortening, or butter)
NOTE: if you like chocolate and almonds, you can use chunky almond butter, reduce the vanilla to 1 Tablespoon, add 3/4 teaspoon of almond extract, and sprinkle the top with thinly sliced almonds for the last fifteen minutes of baking for pretty, fragrantly nutty brownies.
- Preheat the oven to 325º F if you're using a metal pan, or 335º F if you're using a glass pan. Grease the pan, and set aside.
- In a med-large saucepan over low heat, warm the maple syrup. Using a whisk, stir in the cocoa powder (this is going to take a little while, and if you're too vigorous you will create a faintly bitter cocoa dust cloud in your kitchen, so be zen about it). As soon as mixture is smooth, remove from the heat.
- Whisk in all remaining ingredients except chocolate chips. The nice thing about brownies is there's never a fear of over-mixing the batter, so go ahead and beat that stuff as smooth as you like (good arm exercise)!
- Pour batter into prepared pan, scraping in every last bit of nummy batter. Sprinkle chopped chocolate over the top (you can use chocolate chips if you really must). Pop that beauty into the oven and bake for an hour, then test with a toothpick: you should have a few moist crumbs, but no liquid batter clinging to the toothpick. I've noticed this recipe is very oven sensitive, sometimes it bakes perfectly in an hour, other times it may need as much as fifteen minutes more. If you keep a pizza stone in your oven at all times to help regulate the temperature, an hour is almost guaranteed.
- Let cool in pan on a rack for at least thirty minutes. Honestly, if you let them cool for a couple hours, they will be infinitely easier to cut, but some of us like brownies warm from the oven with a scoop of ice cream on top.
*It also offers excellent anthropological insight, as our cave-dwelling ancestors are generally portrayed as gruff, dirty, and clad in rough animal hides, when obviously they were wearing polka-dot aprons and having bake sales to fund the non-profit sabertooth tiger petting zoo.
The Toast of Fiction
I was poking around online for some halibut recipes, and came across this awesomeness at Bon Appetit magazine's website: an article providing alcoholic beverage pairings with characters from Game of Thrones!
Immediately intrigued, I started reading, and just kept saying yes, yes, YES! They really nailed the characters, I agreed wholeheartedly with just about every choice (except for The Hound--I'm sorry, but if there was ever a fictional character who epitomizes whiskey served neat, it's Sandor Cleagne). And it got me thinking about some of my favorite characters, and favorite books, and what beverages I would pair them with.
My brother's favorite book is Joseph Heller's "Catch 22." If you've never read it, you should--it's a classic for a reason, but unlike many of the stiffer tomes they try to force down your throat in high school, this one will have you erupting into laughter! When I asked my brother for a pairing, he decided on Amaro, an Italian digestif that can range from floral-sweet to grassy-bitter--sort of like Heller's cast of characters. If "Catch 22" makes you conclude that the only way to survive is to be a little bit insane, a small glass of this intense fortified wine is a good way to start!
Now my husband is an avid fan of Patrick O'Brian's "Master and Commander" series. We like to read it aloud to one another on road trips, and especially if we're lucky enough to be lounging on a beach. When I asked him about an appropriate beverage to accompany the books, he had no hesitation before he replied, "Port." And I thought, Duh, of course! Goodness knows Jack Aubrey drinks enough of the stuff, but aside from that, port has a slightly syrupy quality and a sweetness that draw in a consumer, before suddenly smacking you with the reminder that Yes, I am a potent beverage! This seems a good parallel for the lure of the sea to every true sailor: with beauty and the promise of adventure, it stirs longing--and then with that first storm, it reminds you never to take it lightly! It's a lesson Lucky Jack Aubrey and the perpetually curious Maturin learn again and again.
Then there's me, and frankly I have a lot of favorite books, an a lot of favorite characters. But the one that came to mind today was Daisy Fay Harper, the irresistible heroine from Fanny Flagg's "Daisy Fay and the Miracle Man." Fanny Flagg is best known for "Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café," but honestly I think "Daisy Fay" is her best work by far. Following a charismatic, resilient, spirited girl as she grows older, it uses peerless humor to explore some of life's hardest challenges--especially the bizarre, unexpected kind. I don't know if I've ever read a book with a character as real as Daisy Fay. And my drink pairing for her would be a glass of tart iced lemonade, spiked with a generous shot of OYO Honey Vanilla Bean Vodka. Like the lemonade, Daisy's vivacity and genuineness is both sharp and refreshing. Add the astonishingly smooth and lightly sweetened vodka, and you also capture her saucy, quick wit, and the warmth she inevitably sparks in your heart.
And yes, I would *love* to hear some of your favorite books/characters, and the drinks you think best represent them!
