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10.
I Will Not Curse an Agent or an Editor for at Least One Month.
Sure, it feels great, brings stress relief, and keeps you inspired
to send out more query letters. But for just four weeks, hold off on
the streams of, “Well, screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeww you, Mr. I Can’t
Write So Therefore I Agent and Edit and Think I’m All High and
Mighty Holding the Fate of the Literary World in My Grubby Little
Hands!” Remember that agents and editors are often kind, generous
souls with feelings just like you and they don’t enjoy at all not
buying every book that comes across their desks. It’s just as hard
for them to say, “No,” as it is for you to hear it (ok, not quite as
hard, but still try for the resolution, it will bring good karma
your way). more... |
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I’ve always liked the New Year’s resolution; it is deciding
purposefully to practice choice. But what if, instead of just one
Big Fat Choice, like Quit Smoking, or Lose Weight - what if the
choice we think we are making for at least an entire year (if
not a lifetime) is seen as comprised of an infinite number of
choices of response we make moment by moment? This
way, we start recognizing our choice in everything; no longer are we
victims to anything. Now, regardless of what we choose,
we are aware of choosing. And since choosing is our only
power, we’ve got ourselves back in the driver’s seat.
And that’s the whole point of a New Year’s Resolution, to put
ourselves back in charge of some area of our lives, back in creative
control.
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Was a time when Joe Pike played no more than sidekick to Elvis Cole,
the sharp-tongued series sleuth featured in a bunch of thrillers by
Robert Crais. Well, no more. The First Rule marks the
second book Crais has let Pike out on his own, following The
Watchman, to spectacular results.
“So dig this,” a character blurts at one point, “those assholes are
somewhere right now . . . and they do not know a storm is on the
horizon and coming for them.”
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The Red Swede,
who was a yegg man, and a good one,
sat over a pint of champagne with Dopey Polly, from
Chinatown, and
his side kick,
the Runt.
This sentence from Helen
Green’s At the Actor’s Boarding House (1906) is terrific
because of the nicknames, the slang (a yegg man is a safecracker),
the dissonance (a pint of champagne, not beer?), and, most
importantly, the promise of a tale involving a sidekick.
more...
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