Online Auction: Blow By Blow

Oh man.

Online Auctions get me. I’ve only bid in two including the one I am involved in at this very moment. It is SO stressful in an exciting rollercoaster sort of way. I wish I were rich, then I might get what I want. But alas, things often get out of my price range rather rapidly, but I keep bidding just to try and get the bids higher and then suddenly I’m like, “Out bid me you bastard, I can’t afford this!” And then I have nothing, because they always out bid me at the last minute and then I am sad because I had all that excitement for nothing. I have wasted moments of my life dreaming and hoping, all for naught.

Maybe I should start at the beginning.

Every once in awhile, I hear about these great online auctions for writers. Big stuff. Like agent evaluations. And it is for a good cause. Oh my gosh! Tax deduction, charity donation AND a huge chance at getting a professional (expert, all-mighty, amazing being that should-I-ever-have-the-honour-of-kissing-their-toes-I-think-I-might-faint-from-the-thought-of-it sort of a person) read and critique my work.

Ah! Current status: 10 minutes remaining in auction. My status: highest bidder. Moment of stomach jumping all over the place: it is my highest bid and is more money than I have or would care to spend.

But relief because it is less than the other one I bid on and was winning. See, I felt bad for the agent who had a low bid. Plus, I wanted that person who was going to get that chance at that awesome agent to donate a little more to charity. So I bid and bid and bid. And just about crapped my pants when I finally won. But then they outbid me again right away. Having thought about the opportunity that it could present, suddenly a few hundred dollars doesn’t seem like that much for a career opener, right? I mean, professional development and that sort of feedback can be priceless if it comes at the right time, gives you the right head tweak and opens the right doors. Anyway, with my new idea of cheap in mind, I moved on to another agent who was hovering on the low end of the money scale.

I googled her and her agency. Wow! Way better fit than the other agent I was bidding on. And yes, a bit out of my price range. (I mean, it is over $50…and I’ve never boasted to be rich.) But I bid and bid and bid. And won. And my bid is holding. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

Refresh the page once again. Getting a little compulsive now…

Status: 5 minutes 56 seconds. My status: highest bidder.

Oh god, I think my heart is acting like I just ran a hundred miles. Okay, maybe one mile. I’d be dead if I had to run much further than that. I, for whatever reason, have never been much of a runner.

Checking status…

4 min 41 seconds.

Some bastard is going to slip in there and out bid me, aren’t they? Oh god, if they don’t, I’m going to have to explain this expenditure to my husband. It um, is um, not $4000 like some of them. It isn’t even $400, but still. It was more than I planned to spend. Oh god. Gotta check the status again. I don’t know what I should hope for.

3 min 31 seconds. Still the highest bid. Oh F*&%

Oh please, oh please, let me win!!!!

Oh god, my heart rate is never going to return to normal.

2 min 19 sec. Way beyond compulsive now. Maybe I should try and remember what my paypal account is.

I decided to warn my husband that I might be spending some money. He informed me to push F5 (refresh) on my keyboard. He actually got a bit excited and was shouting “F5, F5, F5! Again! Again!”. And then with 20 seconds left I got out bid. I was up and then I was down.

And then he told me to bid more. So I bid more at the last second. Now the clock has reset–bastards. Bidding wars suck.

Then the other dude bid more.

So, my husband said, “Bid more, bid more!” So I did. And he reached around me and started finger spasming on F5.

Now I have to agonize through another 5 minutes. Oh god. I don’t know if I can do this…

But he kindly reminds me, “We have spent more money than you are currently bidding on stupid things and you know when I have that much money I am going to go buy Lego Robotics. Plus, this is a career builder–oh, and keep the receipt.” Lego Robotics? <F5.> And then the commercials were over and he went back to the TV. And here I am sweating. Almost literally. My cheeks feel hot, my head is spinning. I’m almost giddy. Except I’m not. Now I am dreading being outbid. Bastards. Stupid online bidding bastards!

Oh my god. 49 seconds is bolded in RED on the site. Heart Attack, my mind is singing. I’m the highest bidder. Have I done it? Have I?  Oooh, ooh. <F5> <F5>

Holy shit. 11 seconds.

WAHOOOOO!!! I WON IT! I WON IT! I WON IT! I WON IT! Holy crap!

From the other room: “Nice!”

Oh my god. Oh my god.

Okay, where is the credit card? I need my credit card. Oh my god. Career changer. Please, oh please. Oh god. I don’t know what to do. How? What? Where? When? Oh my god. I’m so excited.

My Brain Still Works

It is always reassuring to discover that your brain still works and is able to recall things you learned ages ago and rarely use. This is the case with today’s distraction of making little images for some of my writing samples over on my Projects and Samples page. It was a lot of fun and I think it was just what my brain ordered after all the whirlwind of ideas, comments, critiques and theories and rules and suggestions and more rules about queries that my brain had to interpret, consider and then decide what to do with them. (Whew!) My brain is still allowing everything to whirl around regarding queries like bits of debris being flushed down the toilet. Okay, not the toilet, because it is going to retrieve everything (hopefully) and pick up all the things that floated to the top when the whirling ceases. So, maybe more like a, um…well something that whirls and separates the good and bad. Centrifuge. There we go. My brain is like a centrifuge.

Where was I? Ah yes, I made some graphics. It was fun. I only had to use five separate programs to make them and get them posted. Really. And really, it was a fun challenge. Really.

I am such a geek, aren’t I?

Queries: Head Spinning Out of Control

Well, yesterday I felt like I finally had it. Yes, I had it! I had the ultimate plot synopsis that was witty, funny and telling for my query letter. So, I posted it on AQ, my handy, dandy, trusting critique source for all things writing related.

Ack. Good feedback, but I have no hook! Can you believe it? After all that hook work and I don’t have a ‘real’ hook in the plot synopsis. Plus, they felt that I had left one of the most intriguing parts of the story as a minor incident and several suggested I make that the hook. Problem is, that means I will have to rewrite the whole thing.

And that means my head is spinning around and around and around…

Query Writing

Well, I have finally reached the point where I feel like it is time to start the one month process of banging out the ‘perfect’ query letter. Egads! Perfect? But there aren’t even hard and fast rules about query letters! How can you make a perfect one?

Well, folks, that would explain the large sized bump on my forehead from banging it on the coffee table for the past few days.

To prepare for the task at hand (writing the letter that could change my life and career–no pressure), I’ve read Noah Lukeman’s book “How to Write a Great Query”, which varies quite a bit from some of the excellent advice over on AQ Connect. <Bang goes Jean’s forehead again.> But rules are for breaking. Sometimes. Kind of. A little bit. When you are brave. And sometimes when you are stupid. Really, the line between bravery and stupidity can be blurry. <Bang, bang.>

Catch the agent’s attention and try and get them to read more. That is the goal of the query. That is my goal. I can do this. I can condense my 118,000 word story (which is still on a diet, by the way) into three dynamic sentences that show my voice, answer what the book is about, touch on genre, and excite someone I don’t know. No problem. <More banging.>

<Deep breath.> Not intimidated, no, not at all… Anyway, Query Shark wouldn’t chomp on my letter from last month, which probably means that it was not stellar and it was not awful. Just mediocre. So, armed with yet more thoughts, advice and lots of head banging, I am diving in. At the end of the month, I hope to have the query letter of all query letters and not have a concussion.

Hooks

I’m getting to the point where I am just about ready to again, start querying for an agent. I’ve learned a lot and have improved my writing considerably since I last sent out queries about five months ago. I’m hopeful for the next round. I’ve even read Noah Lukeman’s book on how to write a good query. I’m going to be armed and dangerous this time, so watch out!

As part of preparing for querying, I have been working on my hook. I thought my hook before was pretty good, but it was bulky and didn’t say as much as it could have. The hook, if you are unfamiliar with the term, is a one sentence blurb about your story that contains the most important element of your story and should catch your reader’s interest and make them want to read more. It’s harder than it seems. Well, that’s not always true. For one or two of my stories it has been simple. But with the story I want to shop around, I’ve been so immersed in it that I have all the different themes and plots and subplots floating around in my head that it took me awhile to step back, look at it and say, ‘ah, there it is’. Now I think I have it.

Want to read the rough version of the latest hook? Here goes:

A lonely, trusting astrophysicist has what appears to be a picture perfect life, but under the surface her career and love life are slowly spiralling into a pit of humiliation, leaving her on the brink of desperation.

The $50,000 question (besides being is there such thing as a pit of humiliation?)is: is this hook actually interesting and going to intrigue anyone?