Schedules, Shame, and the Demon in my Computer

When to read, when to write, when to get drunk and thrown out of the local watering hole?

It’s all a matter of self control, and some of us just don’t have it. Recently as I reread Stephen King’s On Writing, I noted his strict daily regimen. Almost as quickly, I noted my lack of said self control.

It’s not that I haven’t tried to set a schedule for myself. In fact, I’ve set more schedule’s than I care to remember. The problem is following them. I suppose I like the idea of it more than I like the actual practice.

In my head, I imagine waking with the birds and clearing my head with a nice hot shower. Then, as the sun continues to rise, I make a hearty breakfast and steaming coffee from freshly ground beans. The new day beckons me, and since it’s so early and I have the whole day ahead of me, I go out for a morning hike with my dog. Refreshing.

As the eight o’ clock hour approaches, I prepare a new pot of coffee and sit down for a three hour session of writing. My fingers flash fast across the keys as I transfer every thought onto the page. Time passes.

Eleven o’ clock. Time for a light lunch accompanied by CNN, or maybe my new issue of Cemetery Dance. Noon brings some outdoor activities. Another hike perhaps? Or maybe some yard work or gardening, followed by my second three hour writing session at two.

A beautiful picture, no doubt. My mind reels at the sheer idealism. But the truth that emerges the day after such a visionary treat is sobering.

I wake at nine thirty after a night of debauchery and think, “It’s still early.” But after a shower and surfing the internet, I suddenly realize an hour has passed. No time for breakfast or a morning hike after all. I brew a quick cuppajoe from pre ground beans, and the product tastes like sawdust. I spit it out, cursing. Not a great start.

Convinced the day could still be saved, I head to my computer, where I’m distracted by e-mails and twitter for another hour. There’s a demon in my computer; I know it. I decide I need to relax with a good book, but after only twenty minutes, I black out. Waking four hours later in a puddle of sweat and shame, I slink off to the bar.

Idealism can be a brutal bitch when confronted with reality.

What’s your daily schedule? Have you managed to whip the procrastination devil on the ass and reclaim your day?

Agents Who Represent Horror

There are none.

Okay, I'm overreacting. But after my recent trip to the bookstore, I swear that's not too far off.

You see, I'm searching for representation for my novel, Soundtrack to the End of the World. I've done all the proper research on query letters, synopses, and formatting. The novel is done and edited many times over. And I have the query set. So all that's left to do is find agents that represent horror.

My quest began in the simplest, and most logical place: the internet. I found a few good sites, one or two of which even had search bars for "subject." So I type HORROR.

And bam! Seventy-five listings. That wasn't so hard. That is, I didn't think it was hard until I began to peruse the listings.

The first few did in fact have "horror" under the types of fiction they represent. But once I read further, it became clear that many agencies simply list anything they may be open to. And not necessarily things they currently represent.

The listings I looked through had "what we are currently looking for" sections for each agent. And invariably, no matter what the front page of the listings said, the more in depth looks lacked "horror."

Okay, no problem. Just keep looking. A few more listings in and I started seeing "Not currently accepting unsolicited submissions."

Sal-right. So-kay. Keep looking. A few more in, and I start to notice that the search also lists people who are specifically not looking for horror. This is because the word horror appears in their listing, I assumed.

So I found one or two agents that actually want to represent horror. A good start, but I need more.

Today I went to the bookstore and snatched the holy grail of agent and publisher listings: Writer's Market. I flip to the agents and start my search.

Unlike the previous listings, these mysteriously lacked "horror" in any of their "what we're looking for" sections. They simply just left it out. And the few times I did see a mention, it was not comforting.

Does not want genre fiction. No horror. Does not represent horror.

Wuh oh. Again, I only managed a few agencies. It's too bad I don't write chick-lit, thrillers, or commercial fiction, because these seem to be the big three that nearly every agency wants.

So, as a last ditch effort, I checked the acknowledgment pages of a bunch of horror writers I like. I came away with another two or three. Not bad considering my luck so far.

At least I have a good starting point now.

Does anyone have tips for finding agents that represent horror?

Ice Cream, Cheesecake, and Muddy Trenches

What do they all have in common?

They are all a big part of my weekend. I'm making the ice cream and cheesecake for father's day. And I dug a trench...also for father's day. Don't worry, I'm not putting my father in it. Just burying a tube to funnel water. Not as exciting, I know.

I hate the greeting card movement. I don't see the point in spending money so someone else can tell my father how important he is. Instead, I let my trench do the talking. "Happy Father's Day!" it exclaims as a sudden downpour turns my hard work into a mudslide. And was that a maniacal laugh I heard?

Oh well, it's the thought that counts...right?

It's been a long time...

Hello all of my long lost friends...well, those of you who might still check this long dead blog of an unknown writer.

Over the past year or so, I've been working hard on editing my novel, Soundtrack to the End of the World. At last count--if you look at my word meter below--I had around 58,000 words. It's now closer to 61,000 words. It seems for every page I deleted, I added two.

But finally reaching a point where I think it might actually be publishable, I have started drafting my query letters. I hope to send out a few submission packages soon.

So, what else have I been up to? The short answer is "not much." It's been work work work for me. I may start posting here more often again. But if you'd rather not take the chance--oh, I know you missed me--you can follow me on Twitter (my name there is "onipar"), where I post mostly small nuggets of wisdom such as "Two words that should never, ever, go together: canned meat," and "I'm bored of beef. God needs to invent a newer, tastier animal for me to consume." Or, you can even catch me over at Facebook.

With so many new avenues for idiocy, it's a wonder I get any work done at all.