I am officially abandoning hope for Having Grace.
When I first started querying for it, I began with high hopes. "How to negotiate an offer of representation" I googled, once upon a time. It seems an utterly pretentious thing to google, doesn't it?? But honestly, I have a tendency to screw the pooch in situations which require intelligent conversation. It comes to mind the time when I got on an elevator with an extremely hot guy. I was carrying up a case of beer. "Big party tonight?" the guy asked me.
A fricking yes or no question.
But all I could think of was the fact that the beer was for my mom, but I didn't want to say "No I'm just carrying this for my mom" cuz that would make me sound like an even bigger loser, so I kind of hesitated, but then it sort of got to the point where it was too late for my to say anything at all.
And then we had to ride seven floors up in silence.
Hence I had visions of myself on the phone with an agent, silence permeating my end of the conversation interrupted briefly by utterances of "Me... Randine"
"Sorry wrong number," they would say.
I'm sure I could hold my own much better than that. I'm not, after all, a total idiot.
Only a partial one.
Now, three months after sending out my first query and thirty four rejection letters later I google this: "How to get discount Zoloft delivered to my door." Cuz I ain't getting out my pyjamas to go out and buy no Zoloft properly. (Thanks for the heads up on the Zoloft, Nikki)
So at this point I have to consider the fact that either a)it's my query letter or b)it's the genre or c) it's my writing itself.
I don't think it's 'a', because I have had a partial request and a full, and a personalized rejection letter that explicitly states that it isn't my query letter. So that leaves either 'b' or 'c'.
Either prospect is not good.
"Maybe you should write something else. Write about alien abduction, for example," my husband said.
"Alien abduction? Oh, ya, and why don't I just write about lassoing a horse out on the range? Maybe throw a meth lab in there for good measure. An explosion or two and bingo, bango, bestseller."
Although how I could possibly string together a meth lab, an alien abduction and a horse lasso into a plausible story line I have no idea. Again, I was just making a point. The point, in case you're confused, is that I don't and/or can't really choose what I write about.
It chooses me.
And what chooses me tends to be more women's related issues.
Anyways. I'm fine with that. I'll finish Having Faith and then start querying again.
I might also, at some point, try something different, more literary fictiony.
But with a meth lab.
I don't know.
In the mean time, there's always my day job.
Such as it is.
Anyways- the good news: He changed the light bulb, which is to say- he bought the light bulb!!
So YAY. Now I can laundry well into the evening hours.
Yes, y'all. That's the good news.
F the Zoloft.
Now I'm going to Google"How to get discount razor blades delivered to my door."