Link via Colleen Lindsay of Fineprint Literary.

If you've ever gone shopping for an agent, you know what a pain it is. If only there was a website where you could go, load up your submission once, and all the agents would go there to read it.

Well, not quite that simple, you still have to personalize your query letter, and there's number of character restrictions, but still, it's what we've aways wanted.

An idea of how it works: http://www.webook.com/literary-agents/writers.aspx

I was truly surprised at the number of big-name agents who are giving it a try.
List of participating agents as of today: http://www.webook.com/literary-agents/listAllAgents.aspx

Plus the usual writer's forums and other resources. This could be it.


In other news... still sick and all drugged out on OTC cold remedies, so I didn't answer the phone when it rang. Now I'm trying to figure out who would call me from New York City on a cellphone. Would an agent ever call for pages? Nobody's got a full yet. But it's not likely it's a telemarketer using a cell, right? And while I have online pals in New York, they'd email. Huh. Hopeful writer is hopeful.

ETA: Stuck the number in the reverse white pages and got: "This number is a cell phone based in Westchester and is unpublished." Who do I know in Westchester?

I liked the ep well enough, ( I liked the ep well enough,  )

Just my 2cents Canadian. ;-D

I sent out my first query to an agent today. She likes sci-fi and fantasy and has sold to Alyson, so maybe? What have I got to lose?

She says she gets back on a query in one week. Meet me back here next week, same bat-time, same bat-channel, to find out what happened.

In the meantime, anyone want to take a peak at the blurb from my query letter? It's not too late to give input. (Plus it's short: 225 words.)


( Shift Happens blurb: )


So? Waddya think?

In SHIFT HAPPENS, there's a scene where a character tosses a rock at an electrified fend to make sure it's been turned off.

"Nuh-uh" says super-beta angela_fiddler. "Doesn't work that way." (How the heck does she know this stuff?)

So back to the research mines. I recalled having heard some apocryphal tale of people peeing on electrified fences and thought that would fit great with the tone of the story. (What? What?) So off I go to google and... Ewwww! There should be a warning before you click on a link that takes you to a close up picture of a charred and blackened penis! Yes, flist. That is what happens if you pee on an electrified fence. Remember that next time you're mad at your boyfriend and wandering around a military enclosure or some such. "Hey, honey. Let's see what happens if..."

I ended up finding info about touching a plastic-handled knife blade to two different bits of the metal fencing to get an arc, writing the whole scene, liking it, and then cutting it completely. I mean, why have them climb the fence you can blow the whole thing flat with a grenade. What was I thinking?

But still, there's a lesson to be learned here about googling penises. Or something.

In writing news: Synopsis 1, Stormy 0.

My niece has come out! (And not the niece I thought, huh.) She's written a wonderful, and funny (well, she is my niece) post about being bisexual.
I especially like this part.

How Not to Piss Off a Bisexual Person

• We don’t automatically want to sleep with you. Or your girlfriend.
• No, you can’t take pictures.
• The women you see in dance clubs who make out with their girlfriends to attract men’s attention? Probably not us.
• If I leave you for another woman, that woman will be me. Or your mom.

It also has a number of useful links at the bottom.

Go, read. Comment. Friend.

http://whatnot2date.wordpress.com/2009/11/01/the-idiot%E2%80%99s-guide-to-bisexuality/

I'm so proud.

I'm planning on entering the first 250 words of my completed novel to Authoress's Friday Fricassee.

Any thoughts, comments, suggestions before I hit send?

Storm Grant
SHIFT HAPPENS
Urban Fantasy

“How, exactly, is a parasitic dick-fish a selling point, Doc?” Adrian’s voice rose, as did his eyebrows, not that Doc Soc could see him over a thousand miles of telephone lines.

“C’mon, Adrian. It’s the Amazon jungle. There’s amazing flora and fauna. Like the carnero. It swims up your urine stream, into your penis. Local tribes use it to determine guilt—you live, you’re innocent; you die...”

Adrian shuddered, his shoulder-length curls tickling his neck. “Well, I…”

“That a yes? Great! I’ll just—”

“Whoa, Doc! Time out.” Adrian paced his living room. “Sorry, Doc. Fascinating as your dick-fish sounds, not to mention the monkey-brain salad, I can’t just take off and go tooling around the rainforest.” He yanked a loose thread from his dress slacks. A tiny hole appeared in the seam.

“But the cave paintings, the lost temples, the shamanic miracles? You can’t say no to shamanic miracles! I need you, Adrian. You did your post-grad work on the Temple of Transfiguration. And you’re so good with languages. And photography. We’re going to find it. You’re going to find it!”

Professor Socrates Kawasaki could be very persuasive, hitting all Adrian’s anthropological hot buttons. (Except maybe the dick-fish. Adrian felt pretty sure he preferred his dick fish-free.) Finny parasites aside, Adrian heard the siren call of all things rainforest, shamanic, and miraculous.

“I’ve got a job. A career,” he amended. “I just got promoted to HR Manager.”

“But you’re an anthropologist. What happened to your dreams? Going on one little expedition isn’t going to hurt you!”

- - - - - -

Thanks, and Happy Halloween!

My novel, GYM DANDY, won the Comedy Category in Round 2 of Elisa's Rainbow Awards. I'm not quite sure what happens next, but it's all very exciting.

Several of my online writerly pals won homorable mentions. Go, gang. Aren't we a talented group?

Thank you to those who for vote for me. Thank you, to those of you who've volunteered as judges. Thank you, Elisa for pulling this whole thing together.