A New Title

In the process of editing my novel, my editor and my agent suggested changing the title. I have to admit that I was a little disheartened to hear that. I thought the title was perfect. My critique partners thought the title was perfect.

The original title was Unnatural Selection. Why was that perfect? The main character, Katrien, adores Charles Darwin. Her primary goal in life is to prove his theory of natural selection. But then Krakatoa erupts with disastrous results. Hence the title Unnatural Selection. Perfect, right?

Not so much.

I first learned of the need for a new title not long before I went to the Texas Library Association Annual Conference in April. Of course, Holiday House had a booth at the conference, and I stopped by and spoke with their marketing representative. I told her I had just signed a contract with Holiday House, and she asked me what the title was.

Me: "Well, apparently it needs to be changed, but it was called Unnatural Selection."

Her: "Oh, is it nonfiction?"

Me: "Umm ... no."

Her: "That's why it needs to be changed."

Point taken, ma'am. Knowing now why I needed to change the title, I set about throwing out suggestions. After a couple of emails, a phone call with my editor and some suggestions from the Holiday House marketing team, we came up with the perfect title.

AFTER THE ASHES

Look for it next fall!

My Book Is Sold!

At the end of January (January 28, to be precise) my agent called to tell me I had an offer for my book from Holiday House.

I said, "Really?!" and had to sit down.

I took a few notes about what she said, including reminding me that a couple other editors still had the manuscript. The rest of the day I could not stop grinning. I had a meeting at work that afternoon, and I honestly have no memory of what we discussed. After that phone call from Carrie, the rest of the day was a blur. I did buy myself a big bag of M&M's and a York peppermint patty to celebrate (I am the last of the big spenders!).

Of course I told Mom that night, but I didn't tell anyone else. Carrie got back with me a few days later to say that the other editors had passed, and I was officially with Holiday House.

I was thrilled! Holiday House only publishes children's books. We have lots of their books in the library system.

One week after the phone call, I told all my friends on Twitter and Facebook (mainly because I saw the post from my agency). I emailed other friends and my critique group buddies. The beautiful thing about writing books for children is how supportive everyone is of other writers.

Then I got a lovely letter from Kelly Loughman, the editor I'll be working with at Holiday House.

While I was at PLA, I got the contract to sign. When I got home, I signed it and mailed it off.

Now I'm waiting for the next step.

Here's the official notice from Publisher's Marketplace (thanks to Sam for sending this to me).

Sara Joiner's UNNATURAL SELECTION, about a Charles Darwin-loving girl of the Dutch East Indies, and what happens after volcano Krakatoa erupts and the only person who agrees to her plan of following the animals to safety in the island's jungle is her prim-and-proper nemesis, to Kelly Loughman at Holiday House, by Carrie Pestritto of Prospect Agency.

Woohoo!

How I Got My Agent

I read a lot of blog posts like this. Aspiring authors who finally get an agent after years of trying.

Usually it seems like those stories have some almost fantastical element to them.

Mine doesn’t. I hope someone finds that inspiring.

The first novel I wrote -- which is literally in a drawer in my house -- is terrible. Dreadful. Awful. Hang-my-head-in-shame bad. But everyone’s first book is this way. (By the way, I still think the idea for this novel is great; I just have to figure out how to make it work.)

I wrote another book. This one was based on incidents from my grandmother’s childhood. Because it’s written in a vignette style, it was harder to pitch as a first book. I set it aside.

Then I wrote another novel, this one for young adults. I wrote and revised and wrote and revised and worked hard to make it perfect. Then I queried agents. I got rejections. I revised some more. I queried again. I got rejections. I revised again. Sometimes agents would ask for the partial or the full manuscript, and then I would get a rejection. This process took about two years, and I eventually got more than 100 rejections for that novel. Somewhere about the time I had seventy-five rejections, I told myself I would buy an iPad if got 100. And I did.

Then I set that novel aside.

I wrote another young adult novel. I never queried it, but I did send it to an editor I met at a conference. It was rejected, but the rejection was quite positive.

I wrote another young adult novel. I remembered reading once that writers didn’t really learn what they were doing until they wrote their fourth book. This was my fifth. I felt positive about this book. I felt like this was “the one” -- this book would take me to the next step.

With more patience than I ever thought I had, I wrote. I worked on this book for about two years. I slashed scenes. I added characters. I dropped ideas. I changed details. I took my time to get it right.

Then I queried.

I sent out four queries and got rejections. I sent out four more and got a request for the full manuscript.

Then I got the email that stopped my heart. She liked the book but wanted to see some changes. Would I care to talk to her about it?

Of course I said yes. After listening to her, I knew her ideas would make the book stronger. She would be willing to read the manuscript again if I addressed her concerns.

I took my time and re-submitted to her.

And she offered representation! I actually cried when I read that email.

But it was a great day, and in October 2012, I signed with Carrie Pestritto of Prospect Agency. Now we’re on to the next stage.

Meanwhile, I’m working on another novel.

Not for Teens After All

It’s been a while since I updated this blog, and I need to get better about doing this. My new goal is at least one update a week (but let’s not kid ourselves, I’ll be happy with twice a month).

Anyway, an update is required.

Last summer, I got more passes from editors and more comments. This time there seemed to be a trend -- “it sounds like a middle-grade novel.”

So guess what I did?

I revised again. This time I had to change the ages of my two main characters, delete quite a few chapters and change the beginning. Again.

But all that was done before I went on vacation.

My agent has submitted the revisions to editors again, and now we wait.

That’s how the publishing business works. Lots and lots of waiting. I am learning patience through this process.

Lots to Do

I haven't written anything here in a while. Since the novel revision retreat, I've been incredibly busy – both at writing and at work.

I revised my entire young adult manuscript based on comments and ideas from the retreat. For the moment, I've set that aside to 'stew' a little before I make one final set of revisions.

I went to two SCBWI conferences – in Austin and Houston – and learned more tips for writing and revising.

And, of course, I've started a new book. A middle grade story that's been fun to develop. I haven't written much of it yet – only about four chapters – but I think it'll be fun when it's finished.

But my short-term focus has had to change from both the young adult novel and the middle grade one. The Houston SCBWI conference included a presentation by Jenne Abramowitz from Scholastic. She discussed chapter books, and I got the idea to re-work an earlier piece I had written as a chapter book. So, that's my concentration right now. I have a three-month window in which to re-work the book and submit it. We'll see how that goes.

And in the middle of those three months, I'm going on vacation, so I have to work double fast. Not to mention all the work I have to do for my job. It's going to be crazy!

Here's hoping.

And I created my own website.

The Funeral

Nana's funeral was held March 2 at the Second Baptist Church in Angleton.

We had a slideshow of pictures playing during the viewing and asked people in attendance to speak, if they wanted, during the funeral.

Several friends and family members spoke. They talked about Nana's unselfish spirit, her smile, her loving heart, and her spiritual legacy.

I read part of a story I wrote. Several years ago, I wrote a novel based upon incidents Nana told me about her childhood. While the story is fiction, the idea for it – Nana's first visit to a movie theater – is true.

Although there were more than a hundred people in attendance (we ran out of programs!), some were unable to come. I had some requests from people to read the story, so I thought I would post it here.

The set-up is simple. Mama has Alverda (that's Nana!) and Alverda's brother Ellery to go into town to retrieve another brother, Leard, from the movie theater.

Enjoy!

A Powerful Picture

by Sara K Joiner

When Mama pulled up in front of the theater, Alverda gazed in awe at the white building. What went on behind those doors? she wondered.
“Alverda, run inside and get Leard,” Mama told her.
Her mouth dropped open. She was going to find out! She was actually going to learn what went on behind those doors!
“Come right back out,” Mama instructed.
“Yes, ma’am,” Alverda answered and was out the door of the pickup truck quick as a minute.
She strutted up to the doors of the theater her thumbs hooked under the straps of her overalls.
“Excuse me,” the man who sold the tickets said. “Where are you going?”
“My mama told me I have to get my brother,” Alverda explained. “He’s inside at the picture show. He’s got to go home and do his chores.”
“I reckon it’s all right if you go in there, but make sure you come right back out, ya hear?” he said.
“Yessir,” Alverda replied.
When Alverda opened the doors, she walked into the theater’s lobby.
The buttery popcorn smelled delicious. Alverda wished she had some money to buy herself a Coke.
“Hello, little girl,” a woman behind the popcorn and soda booth said.
“I’m not a little girl,” Alverda insisted.
“Of course you’re not,” she said. “Do you want a Coke?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Alverda answered. “Only I don’t have any money.”
“Honey, no one has any money,” she said with a sigh. “Let me get you a Coke anyway.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome, honey,” the woman said as she handed Alverda a Coke. “Enjoy The Kid.”
“What kid?” Alverda asked.
“That’s the name of the picture, honey,” the woman replied. “Enjoy it. It’s a good one. Charlie Chaplin’s in it and that cute little Jackie Coogan.”
“Oh, I’m not going to the picture show. I have to get my brother. He has to do his chores, Mama said,” Alverda explained.
The woman laughed. “You’re the talkingest girl I ever met,” she said. “You better go get your brother or your mama might get angry.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Alverda said. “And thank you again for the Coke.”
She managed to push the heavy, wooden doors to the picture show open without spilling her drink and found herself in a room that was much darker than the lobby.
The only light came from a huge screen at the front of the room with hundreds of seats facing it. People sat in the seats staring at the screen.
A man sat beside the screen playing very sad music on a piano. On the screen, a little boy was sobbing and stretching out his arms toward a man who looked like a tramp. The little boy was crying, and the tramp was too.
“Why doesn’t that little tramp help that boy?” Alverda asked. Her voice sounded very loud in the group of quiet people.
“Shh,” voices around her whispered.
Someone in the audience got up from the seat.
“Alverda, what are you doing here?” Leard whispered as he walked up to her.
“Mama said to come get you. You have to do your chores,” she told him.
“Shh” came from the audience again.
“You have to whisper,” Leard said. “And the picture ain’t over yet.”
Alverda just gazed at the screen. “Why doesn’t that little tramp help that boy?” she asked again, whispering this time just as Leard told her.
“The boy is an orphan and the tramp has been taking care of him,” Leard explained. “Now the police are taking the boy away, and they won’t let the tramp come with them.”
“Oh,” Alverda said. She walked to the nearest seat and sat down. Leard sat beside her.
“How come we can’t hear them talking?” Alverda asked.
“You can’t hear talking in any picture shows,” Leard told her. “I read in a magazine that people are making movies where people’s voices can be heard, but I ain’t never seen one of them.”
“Oh,” Alverda said again. “How come everything’s grey?”
“What do you mean?”
“All the people and the clothes and stuff. It’s all grey.” She could not take her eyes off the screen.
“It’s called black and white, Alverda. Just like in photographs. No movies have color. Don’t you know that?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “I’ve never been to the picture show before.”
Minutes passed, but it seemed like hours. So much was happening on the screen!
Then Alverda felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked around. Ellery was standing behind her.
“I came to get the both of you,” he whispered. “Mama’s madder than a hornet. We’ve been waiting out there for twenty minutes. Let’s go!”
“All right, Ellery,” Leard said. “We’ll go. Maybe I’ll get to see this picture some other time.”
All three of them left the theater while Alverda wondered if the little tramp would be able to get the boy back. Thinking about that little boy made Alverda sad. What would she do if Mama and Daddy weren’t there to take care of her? She didn’t want to think about it.
“Leard, we should pray for that boy to be given back to the little tramp,” she suggested.
Leard and Ellery burst out laughing. “Silly, the picture show’s fake. That boy has a mama and a daddy in real life, and the tramp has nice clothes and lots of money. It’s fake. It’s not real,” Leard said.
“So, we don’t need to pray for them?” she asked, trying hard to understand.
“No,” Ellery said. “It’s not real. They’re doing just fine.”
“I didn’t know! I’ve never been to the picture show before,” she told him.
“Well, if you want to pray for somebody, pray for us,” Leard said. “We’re the ones who need help. No rain, no crops, and no money. All we’ve got is prayer.”
The three of them walked up to the pickup truck and climbed inside.
“What took you so long?” Mama demanded.
“You sent the wrong person in to get me, Mama,” Leard said. “Alverda’s never been to the picture show before. She sat down to watch for a while after she found me. We would’ve left sooner if not for that.”
“Don’t you blame your sister, young man. You should have left when she told you. You know better than to cross me,” Mama said angrily. “I can’t believe I had to send Ellery inside to get both of you. You’re lucky I don’t turn you and Alverda over my knee.”
“Mama, I’m too big for a whuppin’,” Leard said.
“Not yet you aren’t,” she reminded him. Then she eyed her daughter. “Where did you get that Coke?”
“Yeah, where?” Ellery asked.
“Hush,” Mama said. “Well, Alverda?”
“The lady inside gave it to me,” she explained.
“Did you ask for it even though you don’t have any money?” Mama wanted to know.
“No, ma’am,” Alverda answered, shaking her head. “She said I was the talkingest girl she ever met, and she gave me a Coke.”
“Well, you got that right,” Leard said. “You are a talker.”
“I’d rather be a talker than someone who doesn’t do my chores,” she told him.
“Did you hear that, Leard?” Mama asked. “She just told you what’s what.”
Mama started the dusty truck and drove back to the farm. Alverda kept thinking about the little tramp and the boy. She hoped everything turned out all right for them.
I think I’ll say a prayer for them anyway, she thought to herself, no matter what Leard says.
As Mama turned the pickup truck into the drive, Alverda thought, if the picture isn’t real, why am I so worried about the tramp and the boy? Right then, she understood that the picture show was a powerful thing.

The names are true, as well. Nana's middle name is Alverda, which I've always found fascinating because it sounds so old-fashioned and Southern. And she did have two brothers named Leard and Ellery.

YA Novel

I've finished a young adult novel set during the French Revolution. I think it has a better hook than the middle grade novel I've been querying. So, I'm setting aside the middle grade book to send out queries for the YA one.

I sent four queries today. We'll see what happens.

Update: Queries

Well, I told you I sent some queries out to the agents I met at the writer's conference in Austin. I sent four queries out then and have heard two no's. The other two have not responded as of yet.

About a week later, I sent out four more queries to agents I have not met. But I have gotten two no's from them, too.

So, I'm still waiting to hear from four agents - or to hear the "no response" response.

Fingers still crossed!

Good News!

I am going to a writer's conference in June, so I submitted the first 20 or so pages of my manuscript to be critiqued. I wanted to see what a reader who was not in my presence would say about my work.

When I returned home from vacation, the critique was waiting for me. The reviewer gave me some wonderful feedback, but the best news of all was in the attached letter. My manuscript is a finalist in the children's/middle grade category! I thought the whole thing might be some joke, but it's on the website. I guess it's no mistake.

Winners will be announced at the conference.

The Writing That's Ready

I've got two picture books that I have queried a few agents about - but no one was interested. I queried a middle-grade novel I've written to another agent - to another no. I really think my query letters stink. I try to make them interesting, but I think of them like persuasive letters, which I was never any good at writing in school. Also, I have to sell myself. I couldn't sell water in the Sahara, so it's difficult for me to try to sell my own writing.

Oh, well. I'll just keep plugging away.