Here's what one lucky winner will win:
1. Autographed copy of Clark's, Blind Dates Can Be Murder
2. Violet Dawn, Collins
3&4. Autographed copies of Brandt Dodsons, Seventy Times Se7en & Original Sin
5. Autographed copy of: Meissner's, Widows & Orphans
6&7. Autographed copies of Eric Wilson's: Best of Evil & Expiration Date
8. Craig Parshall's, Trial by Ordeal
How to win? Leave your scariest writer moment in the comments section. This can include some horrible mistake you made, some regrettable thing you said to an editor, the time you almost lost your only copy of your manuscript...or whatever.
Ane, Jess, and I will vote on our favorite and the winner will be announced on Halloween.
Thanks for playing. And thank you everyone for supporting Biblical worldview authors.
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Monday, October 30, 2006
Your Scariest Author Story May Win You All These:
This happened to me during my career in mass market romance fiction in 1993-1994.
ReplyDeleteBook #1 in the series was set in 1880 and featured hero and heroine Will and Addie. Book #2 in the series was set in 1890 and featured hero and heroine Michael and Rose. (Will and Addie were older, secondary characters.)
Some time after Michael and Rose are married in Book #2, the couple talk to each other while lying in bed, trying to solve some of the conflict between them. The next scene begins in the morning with the couple waking up in bed, but here is where my "scariest writer moment" began. I accidentally used the name Will when I meant Michael. I never caught the error during revisions or edits or final page proofs. My editor and proof reader never caught it either.
After the book was released, I got a letter, pointing out the error. I thought, "That's impossible!" and pulled the book off the shelf, flipping to the page provided in the letter. Sure enough, Rose went to bed with her husband but woke up with the hero from another book - and never blinked an eye!
Needless to say, that was only the first letter I received about this mistake. After about the third, I decided to make a joke of it, saying something about this being a contest to see how many readers would catch the error and sending them a small prize for paying attention.
Yeah, I joked, but ever since, I've been aware how easily this can happen to a writer. I'm grateful for all the sharp-eyed copy editors who try to make sure something like it doesn't happen to me again.
Robin
Wow, that IS scary, Robin! My character I'm writing is Brian, but I keep typing it Brain. Hope I can catch all of those...
ReplyDeleteI worked hard. I polished my manuscript. I made the best presentation I could possibly make—and then I mailed my proposal. You know the feeling. Elation and trepidation all rolled into one lovely only-a-writer-can-understand package. My baby was now birthed and sent into the publishing world.
ReplyDeleteI was in bed late at night thinking happy thoughts about my proposal. Then all of the sudden, horror of horrors, it hit me. I couldn’t help what I wailed, “Oh, no!”
I had forgotten a SASE.
The Abominable Sin.
A Writer’s Worst Nightmare.
I was certain I would forever be labeled an amateur (or worse) by the editor. First thing in the morning I would send another letter with the missing SASE and apologize, beg, ask for forgiveness. I had to! Maybe, just maybe, I could clear my name.
It took me awhile to get to sleep that night.
Now I think about this story and smile. Lesson? Double check your mailings. Lesson #2? In the long run, things that seem horrible today might not seem so horrible further down the road.
Oh, and the proposal was rejected — in my SASE.
Two of mine:
ReplyDelete1) In the late 90s, I pitched and pitched without success, both via mail and at conferences. Being the promo queen that I am, I'd say in my cover letter that I was a native Floridian, hoping to capitalize on that.
At Florida Christian Writers Conference, Dan Bell of Tyndale handed me back my proposal (we'd turned them in in advance, and they were given to various editors), and he'd circled a sentence in my cover letter and written "Interesting" beside it.
To my horrors, I'd written, "I am an original Floridian."
2) THIS WAS HAS NEVER BEEN CAUGHT--EGADS! (except my me). It's in my 2-in-1 novella collection Room At the Inn with Pamela Griffin.
See if you can spot it, below.
Setup: The hero owns a defunct B&B his late wife started. A old country preacher sees an ad for it in an out-of-date magazine and calls the hero to book a room for their church secretary.
"And so, we're a-wantin' to book a room. Please say there's room at the inn." He let out a belly laugh. "Get it? Room at the inn? Like in Jerusalem two thousand years ago when Joseph and Mary came a-knockin' on the door of an inn. Please say ya got an empty room at yer B and B. My wife's got her heart set on yer place for Lois...it's a little piece of heaven smack dab in the middle of a Florida orange grove, is what she said. Please don't say you're full."
Joseph and Mary weren't in Jerusalem. They were in BETHLEHEM!!
--Red-faced Kristy, who, if she's ever confronted, will say it was the old country preacher's faux pas.
Back in grad school, I was tapped to introduce one of the two writers who'd be at the program's next sponsored reading. Authors were flown in from around the country to do readings at the Museum of Fine Arts. I'd given a quick intro for a visiting writer at an on-campus event, so it didn't seem like too daunting a task -- in spite of the fact that I'd never heard of the author I was introducing, and had certainly never read her work. I bought a couple of her books and did some speed-reading, focusing mainly on the bio blurb.
ReplyDeleteI'd never attended one of these museum readings, which were geared more toward the general public (or rather, the wealthy patrons among the general public), so I was a little shocked to discover when I arrived that the place was packed. All the professors were there, along with lots of intimidating-looking intellectual-types. My author was going on second, so I sat in the front and waited. I wasn't sure what she looked like and there was no one to introduce us. I started getting a little nervous. In fact, I began to break into a cold sweat.
It got worse: the first author was introduced by one of the stalwarts of the poetry program, an amazing guy I later worked with on the program's lit mag. He adored the author he was introducing, and instead of a quick bio he delivered a very thoughtful retrospective on the guy's work, talking about themes in the various books, how the critics had responded at each point in his career, and offering his own (quite lyrical) analysis of the oeuvre. I thought, "He's grandstanding. People don't want to hear from us." But looking around I saw people nodding in approval, hanging on every word. I realized with dread that this was what they expected. An introduction at one of these events was meant to be a little speech in honor of the author. No one had told me! (In fairness, they'd just assumed I would know.)
As the first author read, my mind raced. Not only did I not have a critical opinion to offer, but I found that I couldn't recall the biographical details, either. I looked at my notes, but they seemed fuzzy, illegible. I was about to make a fool of myself in front of everyone who mattered, and insult someone who deserved more praise than I was equipped to give.
When my turn finally came, the professor who'd invited me to do the introduction went up to introduce me. (He said more about me than I'd planned to say about the featured author!) I was shaking. Sweat dripped from my face. I wasn't sure I could walk to the podium, let alone speak. When he stepped back, there was silence. I stumbled forward, bracing myself on the podium. "I'm here to introduce . . . " When I said the name, everyone applauded -- that's how much they loved this author I'd never heard of. And then I had to continue.
I have no idea what I said, or how long I talked. My vision was too blurred to make out the faces of people in the audience. One thing I do recall is making an emphatic swooping gesture with my hand -- but I don't know what point it was meant to emphasize. When I finally backed away from the microphone, a small woman with frizzy brown hair came up. She gave me a half-smile in passing. She cracked a joke as I went back to my seat -- I have no idea what she said -- and everyone laughed. I went back to my seat on the front row, certain throughout the entire reading that everyone in the room was glancing disdainfully at the back of my head.
The whole time I was in grad school, I was never asked to introduce another author. And no one ever mentioned that night in my presence. I was convinced, though, that they talked about it when I wasn't around!
Those are scary!
ReplyDeleteMy scariest writer moment:
I'm part of an on-line critique group, The Penwrights. I critiqued my friend, Maxx's short story and complimented a great line he wrote which included the phrase, "tentacles of doom."
I told him I loved, "testicles of doom". As soon as I clicked 'send' I realized what I'd done and the blood drained from my face. I hoped no one would notice. They did.
It was my first one-on-one writers' conference meeting - with an agent. I thought I'd been smart by selecting the time slot right after the agent's workshop, which I attended. We made small talk as she gathered her materials and we headed downstairs to the one-on-one meeting room together. As we settled into our chairs, I glanced at my stuff and realized in horror that I'd left my writings back upstairs.
ReplyDeleteShe graciously allowed me to run back upstairs for it, but the meeting went downhill from there. And no, she wasn't interested in representing me.
My scariest moment happened when I first started writing. I was sending out my very first MS for someone who was published in fiction to review. I had written like 150 pages but only wanted her to see the first 60 because I hadn't edited the rest and so I cut the rest and sent it after "save as" and then propelled my baby into cyberspace. Then when I went back to my doc, the only thing I had was 60 pages long. I HAD DELETED the rest of the pages of my hard copy. My body went into panic mode, I tried to rescue the document, "find" the doc, everything I could think of (I am pretty computer savvy) but it was GONE! Kaput! I'm surprised I continued writing after that because I could literally FEEL my blood pressure top 150 or more. It was horrible. My hands were shaking and the works. So that was my scariest moment, for me, anyway. :)
ReplyDeleteI waited until the last minute to mail in my samples to be critiqued at Mount Hermon this past spring. Of course, I was mailing two days before the deadline so I didn't think it was last minute.
ReplyDeleteTurns out it was past the last minute, actually.
The mail truck that would handle overnight mail left ten minutes before I reached the counter at the post office. Crud!
Well, second-day mail, then. Uh-uh. The local post office in Mount Hermon closes on Saturday before the two-day mail might arrive. Double Crud!
So I left the post office -- did I mention it was a dark and stormy, hail and windy afternoon? -- and prayed/brainstormed to find a way out of my mess.
Once the windows were good and fogged I remembered the FedEx/Kinkos down the street. It'd cost more, but I wasn't out of options, yet.
Driving with a narrow smear of defogged windshield, I made it to the Kinkos. And there was a FedEx truck in the parking lot. I rushed in and started filling out the paperwork on the off chance the FedEx guy was on his way in, or I could run the package out to his truck before he drove away. I was two-thirds done when the FedEx guy came in. He could make next-day delivery, no problem. Price? Didn't want to know.
Ahhhhhhhh...
Then I went home and found the e-mail that said the deadline had been extended by almost a full week.
Wow! I don't think I can top any of those.
ReplyDeleteBut, I have to try :-)
Jim and Tracie Peterson had requested my complete manuscript for Canteen Dreams. I sent it off. Made one addition that was requested. And then waited. Tried not to hyperventilate as I waited. Then I heard they were turning Heartsong back to Barbour. No big deal, I was going to host their workshop again. I could touchbase with them and make sure my baby wasn't lost in the woods somewhere between Montana and Ohio. Then I heard -- two days before ACFW -- that Tracie wouldn't be able to attend ACFW. Tried not to panic. God is in control. He knows right where everything is. I'll email Jim after conference and check on the status of my baby. Surely, she was somewhere on the cyber-highway. Got to conference and Rebecca Germany announced Barbour was only giving out one full length contract. Heart sank to my toes. My baby was hopelessly lost and me with her.
Then I heard those magic words, "the title of the newly contracted book is Canteen Dreams", and was sure my ears and brain had abandoned my body. That was a scary moment :-)
Gina,
ReplyDeleteI love that your scariest moment is one of my favorite laughs!
My scariest moment...hmmm there are so many to choose from. One of them didn't frighten me, but I'm sure the writer I stalked looked over his shoulder while traveling down dark alleys.
Then there was the revolving door incident in Dallas.
Mine has to be the sharing of wrong information with an editor I was attempting to impress.
I had seen her publication in Writers Market, and told her it was Writers Digest. Not a huge deal - right? Wrong. It pretty much showed I was clueless regarding all things writing.
But I apologized, and she hadn't realized she had appeared in either publication, so she was just thrilled to hear about it. WHEW! I faxed her the article and got a few assignments from her.
I now double check my facts FIRST when sharing them with others. usually.
Kelly, I agree. Gina's testicles of doom was the classic typo! Too bad she can't win her own contest! I still laugh out loud every time I think of that email!
ReplyDeleteIf you guys aren't careful, this blog is going to have to be censored.
ReplyDeleteI say we all just nominate Gina to win and she can keep all the books herself! (Maybe she'll share them with you, Ane.)
ReplyDeleteThat might [bleep] the readers off, CJ. ; )
ReplyDeleteLOL! I enjoyed everyone's stories. I don't have a scariest moment because I'm just getting started as an aspiring novelist.
ReplyDeleteI've done everything I can to procrastinate. I decided to study other romance authors, so I've spent the better part of the year reading over 100 books, mostly authors I've never read before. Okay, have a pretty good feel for what works and what doesn't. What's my next avoidance tactic?
I tried being a SOTP writer and failed miserably. Not able to get past the 4th chapter. So I started writing short stories and submitting, even had a few published. Confidence builder? Yep, but also anxiety booster. Maybe a short story, 20,000 words or less, is the best I can do.
I know. I'll learn how to plot. Start studying everything I can find on plotting and characterization. Read author websites and blogs for tips. Got recommended books and kept them until I maxed out my renewals at the library.
Time to bite the bullet. I work best under pressure so I decide in August to enter a contest with an October deadline. 3 chapters and an outline. Midway thru September, I have a rambling outline and not one word of one chapter. Getting nervous. Check contest website to make sure what I'm planning meets requirements. Deadline is extended to December. (As if I needed help with my procrastination techniques.)
So I vow to get started. What do I do? I sign up for NaNoWriMo. Tightening up outline so that I'll have something more than hay at the end of 30 days. 1st chapter has been rolling around in my mind, itching to get on paper for the last week. Do I write it down? Of course not! I MUST wait for Nov 1, mustn't I?
Scary moment? In just over 24 hours, I'll have run out of excuses and ways to procrastinate. I hope the words flow, or at least seep on to the page. My scariest moment is...right now!
Probably not gonna win with this, but it's always fun to share and commisserate you know? :)
ReplyDeleteI'd been working on my second novel, Violette Between, for a total of about a year. I was three months from deadline when my editor and I realized this thing was going nowhere. So, with twelve weeks to go, I started from scratch, essentially trashing about 180 pages of manuscript. Of that original ms, only two paragraphs made it into the final version.
That was not a particularly enjoyable three months. :)
-Alison
blog.alisonstrobel.com
Yikes! Those are all bone chilling. Thanks for sharing everyone!
ReplyDelete