Emily Murdoch (HorsebackWriter on QT) has signed with agent Mandy Hubbard of Emerald City Literary Agency.
However, I began writing with an eye toward publication in May of 2008.
It took Mrs. Mills about a week to type it up, and we sent it off. It went out to three children's publishers, along with a cover letter. I don't remember who the other publishers were, but an editor at Random House, the signature illegible, wrote: "She's got something. Tell her to try us again in ten or twenty years".
Flash forward to now, and I've written five more manuscripts. This is my third queried manuscript. My first garnered full and partial requests, and even an exclusive revision with an agent that didn't pan out. The second manuscript landed six offers of representation, only for me to part ways with my agent, as sometimes happens.
THE PATRON SAINT OF BEANS was my fresh project. I was offered representation for both this and another manuscript.
I'm the kind of writer who used to never let anyone read my stuff. I was that girl with the crab-hand (I'm a lefty) furiously scribbling away with my arm covering the page, scowling daggers at anyone who even thought of glancing at my writing. (A problem, if one has publishing in mind!) I've come a long way since then ... but I still get butterflies knowing others are reading my work.
I love to be surprised, myself, as to the story unfolding on the page. However, I do take notes in a story notebook, as ideas, scenes and dialogue come to me throughout the day.
I was anonymously consulting other writers about an agent-related situation. A writer, who also happened to be an agent, offered to help, if I didn't mind "outing" myself.
Mandy remembered me from my first queried manuscript, a full request she'd rejected. As I finished up PSOB, I'd assembled a list of fifteen agents I'd love to work with, and Mandy happened to be on the list. She read my two current manuscripts, loved them both, and offered representation, which I happily accepted.
As a friend said, "It's like something out of a novel!"
Also, do all you can to refrain from comparing yourself to other writers -- your story is your story, your journey, your journey. Keep writing, learning, improving. Dream, but balance it with the realities of the business. Be ready for your time to shine!
It also helps to foster friendships with other writers. They will be your sanity, your cheerleaders, and a never-ending source of emotional support. I heart all of you!
I shook her bony shoulders and said, what happens in the woods, stays in the woods. I just never thought Nessa would take it that far.
A broken-down camper at the Obed Scenic and Wild River National Park -- dubbed the Hundred Acre Wood -- is the only home fifteen-year-old Carey has ever known. Sure, coping with a bipolar mother on meth is no picnic, but beneath the sun-dazzled canopies of Hickory and Walnut, the haunting strains of Carey's violin can be counted on to transport her from their bare-bones existence in the same way her selectively mute little sister, Jenessa, finds comfort in her stash of second-hand Pooh books.
Life is dependable that way, until Mama goes into town for supplies and vanishes off the face of Tennessee, sending social services in her wake with a one-way ticket back to their father, a stranger in an even stranger world. The hardships of survival in the Hundred Acre Wood pale in comparison to Delaney, their hellcat of a stepsister, let alone the winding maze of high school halls dizzy with whispering girls and those loud, alien beings called boys. One in particular, Ryan, makes Carey feel as safe as when she plays her violin ... as long as he never finds out what she did, because if Jenessa starts talking, Carey's fragile world will come crashing down like the inevitable weight of snow on Walnut.