A Rite of Passage - Italy

Various cultures and religions celebrate their youth rites of passage with solemn regard, religious interpretation, and/or ecstatic celebration. In the general U.S. population, I can't quite put my finger on what is the rite of passage for the youth. If you count the prom, then that's the teen going off on their own to celebrate independence and hopefully not in ways that would make your eye twitch. But, to me, a rite of passage is when there is a transformation from one stage or status to another in the presence or help of the parent/guardian.

In this case, the elder, that would be me, takes the young grasshopper, that would be my daughter, and accompanies her on a life-changing journey.

What better way for this rite of passage to begin than with a trip to Milan!

First, I shared the decision with family and friends. For some whose minds couldn't grasp the scope of this adventure, they were told that I was accompanying my daughter to Italy so she could go to a rock band concert. Of course, they probably also thought that was a bit much.

But for those who didn't waste time casting judgment, or rather wasted time on sharing their opinions with me, they knew that I was heading to Italy to see one of my new, favorite German rock gods--Tokio Hotel--and I was taking my daughter. She would miss school, but how often would she get this opportunity on my dime.

Our trip to Oz, as it took on that dream-like quality because I couldn't believe that I was going to Italy within the month, had a cast of characters. The group consisted of three other women with the added twist that we'd never met each other, except online in the fan forum. However once the decision was made to head to Italy, we organized beyond my capabilities. One woman created an Excel spreadsheet with every piece of information minus our bra sizes. She then had weekly conference calls with us, using webinar technology so we could see her screen as she moved through each tab on the spreadsheet to fill in any missing information and delegate further duties. I was on hotel assignment. I spent two intense days finding selections of hotels, we stayed in four hotels. Another woman was like the general of the group. She made sure we ate, were hydrated, etc. She would have been great as a chaperone on a senior class trip. The third woman was low keyed, had toured with other bands, and had mad skills with her professional camera.

For the entire trip, I couldn't believe that I was going to Milan for a rock concert. Who does that? Well in Europe we met lots of people who travel from one country to the next with no hesitation. I guess it would be like going from New York to Florida to Texas. However, our little group seemed to fascinate many of the parents whose inner child seemed to be on hiatus as they patiently sat in the middle of the screaming fans unfazed by the music or the surrounding energy.

That didn't stop us. I'd already taken my daughter to her first rock concert last year to see Fall Out Boy, so she knew that I could rock out with the best of them. At the first concert in Turin/Torino, she and I screamed and danced shoulder to shoulder. We showed a group of teeny boppers standing near us what rocking out really meant. We would scream and then they would lean over to look at us before screaming (and never at the same decibel). If we danced around, they would look, analyze, and then copy. I took the whole thing as a form of flattery.

By the second concert in Padova, we were exhausted, but determined that we could do this all over again. This time my daughter opted to head for the seats because standing on the floor with her small stature would not have given her a good vantage point. She later learned that the seats weren't better when people stood to see the stage.

By the end of the concert, when we reunited (I stayed on the floor and went into my own euphoric zone), she couldn't stop grinning. Her expression was priceless. Immediately we headed to the vendor. I bought a poster for my new office. She got an oversized flag with the group's image.

We shared our thoughts about this concert, which was even better than the one in Torino. The crowd came ready to engage with the group and celebrate. Somehow, our little group bonded over this concert as we tiredly and quite noisily made our way back to our hotel.

My daughter loves hanging around adults more than her peers, so being in the middle of the fab over 40 group talking about any and everything that came up suited her. Now she got to hear the same messages from other women than me. It was the modern version of tribal elders imparting wisdom to a young one.

The trip wrapped up back in Milan where we shopped. I'm not a shopper because I don't have the patience. If I like an outfit, I will buy it. I'm not going to ponder, comparison shop or anything. As we wandered through the fashion district, we'd enter a store, I'd pull out a couple things that I thought she'd like, she'd shake her head and we'd move on. I realized that her penchant for random, mismatched, tomboyish styles had morphed into a bolder, edgier fashion style of layered, textured fabric with odd patterns. Her eventual wish for a nose piercing and tats would complete this young, alternative rock look. When I found the perfect black leather jacket and described the all black outfit that would look good with Converses or ankle boots, I knew that we'd reached the finale level to the rite of passage.

After nine days, my daugher under the tutelege of four females of varied backgrounds and experiences had elevated from just a regular teen to young adult. Her fashion sense had emerged with its own flair crafted in the designer paradise of Milan.

Keep your head up, Little Bits. The world is waiting one fashion item at a time.

Michelle Monkou

Trail of Kisses - Available now

Kimani Romance
RT Review - 4 stars

Going for the Gold

RWA's Golden Heart award has been on the minds of the Rockville 8 pretty much since we entered last fall. Two weeks ago, we had a celebration to toast our nominee--yay Keely!!--and to salute all who entered. That started me thinking about the final Barbara Walters Oscar Special I saw a few weeks ago which included a retrospective of all past shows.

I noticed a trend as I watched. Barbara asked several of the nominees a variation of the same question--"Did you know that you would be successful?"

When she asked Denzel Washington if he thought he would be nominated, he answered, "At the risk of sounding egotistical, I expected to be nominated." Mo'Nique described how as a child she would thank the Academy holding a hairbrush in the bathroom mirror. Barbara asked if she really believed that it would happen. She answered, "If I didn't think it, why get in the game?" And Oprah said, "Somewhere I have always known that I was born for greatness in my life."

These people believe in themselves. They didn't let obstacles stand in their way. They didn't let being knocked down keep them from jumping back in the race, skinned knees and all. They kept pushing and believing.

Barbara asked Glenn Close if she thought she deserved to win, even though she said it was a terrible question to ask someone. Glenn answered, "I don't think it's a terrible question because I think I do deserve to win." But she didn't win then, even though it was the fourth time she'd been nominated. Glenn didn't stop acting. And though she's been nominated five times for the Oscar, she still hasn't won. But she has won three Tonys, three Emmys, and two Golden Globes.

That brings us to another point. Robert Mitchum told Barbara Walters, "Never look back because something might be gaining on you." Put your failures behind you, learn from them and don't destroy yourself because of them. As Susan Sarandon told Barbara, "If you're not making mistakes you're not doing anything." Allow yourself to fail. Give yourself permission to turn over the dirt, plant your seeds and stain the page. Then go back and clean it up.

Many times, when someone decides to act, they do it because they can't picture doing anything else. It's the same with writing. You wouldn't do it unless you loved it. Unless you absolutely had to do it. Unless it wouldn't leave you alone. The times in my life that I haven't, when I've pushed writing aside, I've been miserable. The story ideas, scenes, metaphors, bits of dialogue keep pushing at me. I think that's true for anyone who writes.

You can have a lot of ideas. You can love to write them down. But until you believe that you're writing for more than just your own enjoyment, it's a hobby. Until you can say, I believe that I deserve to be published, you likely won't be.

Managing Expectations: The Golden Heart, Depression, and a Resurrection

On March 25, 2010, a pretty spectacular event occurred in my life: I learned I am a finalist in RWA's Golden Heart (R) contest in the Paranormal category. Far out!

Making the finals of the Golden Heart (R) is kind of like receiving a nomination for an Oscar (R) - maybe you felt like you'd done some good work, and maybe your friends and family thought so too, but this is proof that people completely unconnected to you respond to your creativity and just how cool is that?

In the shower that Thursday morning, I tried to keep my anticipation in check. I listed all the reasons why I wouldn't be a finalist. Didn't let myself think, really, about the possibility of making the grade. It had been so many months since the contest entry deadline, I think my hope-well had run a little dry. Instead, I concentrated on the typos and data-dumping and clunky world-building and complete and utter obviousness of my writing. Surely these had beaten the judges down, and my score too.

I had friends and critique partners still in the race. A sliver of sparkly eagerness left, too. So I dressed appropriately. Gold blouse. Bronze wolf medallion from the Renn Faire in honor of my werewolf hero, Joe. When I read the email informing me of my spot in the finals, I think I glowed more brightly than the blouse. I called family, I emailed friends and colleagues, I posted on Facebook.

As the day unfolded, I kept waiting to hear that some other key folks had finalled as well.

But they didn't.

So in the midst of my high, I felt awkward and lonely and just weird. Like maybe I didn't deserve the honor. Like - why me and not them? Why me and not all of us? I know their writing. It's excellent work. So, why? In the aftermath I started feeling like the fickle finger of fate had stepped in and I was in the line-up not for merit but from chance.

And it occurred to me...

Was I really having a pity-party for being a finalist?

Um, yeah. In fact, I've been pity-partying about it all this weekend, alack, alas. Which leads me to part two, section two of my blog post title: Depression. I'm always a bit dumbfounded about what triggers a bout of depression for me. In looking back on various episodes, it becomes clear that they nearly always involve a victory. Graduation from high school and college? Check. Upon the completion of two marathons five years apart? Check. Buying a home? Check. Typing "THE END" on my first novel? Check, check, check, check, check.

Navel-gazing about the why of the depression-linked victory is a topic for another post (Hallelujah!). Instead, I want to move onto part two, section three: Resurrection. Somehow Easter Sunday seems like perfect timing to slough off the emotional blues and ring in an improved attitude. How? Aha! The million dollar question. Part of the secret is action begets emotion. You've heard people say they are going to write once they feel "inspired" and then you never see them writing? Cuz they've got the cart before the horse. I felt pretty yucky all weekend but I knew I had to make this deadline. I didn't feel inspired to write when I logged on. But I feel renewed by what I've written and will take that into tomorrow with me as part of my emotional resurrection. I am inspired because I have taken action to make mincemeat of my depression.

Are you wondering about the managing expectations part? My suggestions follow below. Would love to know yours, too. Please share!

1) "I can do anything for two minutes." A phrase I took to heart during marathon training. Yes, you really can get through 7.5 hours and walk/jogging 26 miles if you break it down into two minute intervals.

2) "Tomorrow is another day." Whether you're a Scarlett fan or not, the simple truth is at some point the crisis of the moment will turn into yesterday's old news. Keeping that in mind helps enormously to put things in perspective.

3) "It's always darkest before the dawn." Okay, so I'm drawn to cliches. Sue me. And this one may seem pretty similar to the second, I'll grant you. But if you are awake and alone in the middle of the night and thinking scary thoughts, this is a good mantra to have in your back pocket. [listen, if you are thinking REALLY scary thoughts, CALL someone right away - no kidding and NO DELAY!!] Things DO improve in the light a day, if only your ability to reason, to laugh, to take a chill-pill, to reconnect with the realities of your life, to take some kind of ACTION.

Winning the Golden Heart (R) will not give me an auto-pass into published author status.

Not winning won't mean I have to throw in the towel and power down my keyboard for good.

I've journeyed through a bit of a dark night of the soul around this topic, given my anxiety enough "two minute" bon-bons and I'm done. No more dwelling.

Yay! I'm a Golden Heart (R) finalist! And it's awesome. And I get to keep writing my stories regardless. A contest does not a career make. Depression is a part of my life, but one I get better at handling as the years go by. And tomorrow, which is another day, my reality will include Spanish class, work, MS revisions, and (hopefully) responding to your comments.

Latching onto the affirmative,
Keely
"Honor Bound"

Courtney Milan Spends the Day with the Eight... and You

The Rockville Eight is pleased to host 2010 RWA® RITA® Finalist Courtney Milan as our guest blogger for March's Last Monday of the Month.

Courtney earned RITA's nod this year with her novella, "This Wicked Gift," featured in The Heart of Christmas. Her debut historical romance, Proof by Seduction, is in stores now. For more with Courtney, visit her website, www.courtneymilan.com.

Right now, though, she's all ours... and yours. The Heart of Christmas and Proof by Seduction can be yours, too. Courtney will pop in throughout the day to chat – and she'll select one commenter to win a copy of both books – so keep those comments coming!

And now, take it away, Courtney...

PROMOTION BEFORE YOU'RE PUBLISHED by Courtney Milan

We've all heard the horror story about the person who sells and then discovers they are so busy writing books that they don't have time to do promotion. I have to admit, the person who tells this story is usually someone who sells promotional services. But honestly, I think this is an urban legend, and I think that people can focus to much on promotion before publication. I have not met a single published author who discovered that she did not have time to do promotion, if she started taking care of things when her book sold. (Promotion can take lots of time--but the vast majority of it is not things that you can frontload prior to publication. For instance, I spent 5 hours this morning working on new bookmarks--but you can't make bookmarks until you have a book cover.)

I did worry about promotion before publication, though--I worried about it a lot. And in my mind, I spent too much time and money on it.

So, here's how I see things:

1. Do the free stuff now. Start a facebook page (but please, dear God, do not ask all your friends to be fans.) Get a blog--most are free. (And if you enjoy blogging, blogging can be good practice writing on a schedule--just make sure that it's not cutting into book-writing time!) If you want, find a place with cheap hosting and put up a wordpress site, using a free template. When you publish, you can get someone to design it--just make sure that you're on the ball about that, because good web designers have a backlog (this is the only place where people get in trouble, I think: failing to realize that good web designers have 6 month to 1 year backlogs, and so you need to get on their schedule as soon as you've accepted an offer of publication). But don't freak out about any of this. Some bestselling authors use nothing more than a free blog as their entire web presence, even after they are published. See, for instance, Kristin Cashore. Her first two books hit the NYT list in hardcover; her debut novel, now available in paperback, has been sitting on the NYT children's list for 21 weeks. Her web presence is a free blog--and she writes YA books, and young adult readers are more likely to want to interact with the author online.

2. Get cheap business cards. Vistaprint is great for unpublished authors. You'll find that you adjust your card based on the book you're writing, so 100 of them is all you need. I bought business cards in the 1000s, printing my book on the back, and paid lots of money for them. I gave out about 10 of them.

3. The only thing that I think you do have to spend money on now is this: if you know the name you will be using (for instance, because it is your own), or if you think you know the pseudonym you want, buy your own domain name. They are cheap ($9.95 a year) and it's better to have it than not--it sucks to be known on the contest circuit or by your free blog by one name, only to discover that the name is unavailable. You want to be able to get yourname.com, and it's cheap to lock it in.

4. Other than that, I believe in the cheap. Do not buy personalized stationary. You don't need it. Nobody will think less of you for using the regular old letter paper from Office Depot. It's true that you should dress for the job that you have, but authors wear yoga pants. Act professionally, and use clean paper (and don't use blinking graphics on your website) and you will be just fine.So where should you spend your money, if you are burning to spend it? Spend it on conferences--networking and meeting authors who might introduce you to agents and editors will help more than personalized stationary. You'll also get to know people who may one day provide blurbs for your debut novel, and that's always a good thing! I got some great mileage from author critiques that I won from contests, and Brenda Novak's Diabetes Auction has a huge number of author critiques available.

It is really easy to fall prey to the notion of sympathetic magic: that if you spend a lot of time or money on something, that it must help. There is so much uncertainty in the publishing world, and so little that authors can control, that we look for anything to think "if I do that, I will get published." But it is simply not true that a pretty website or personalized professionally printed stationary will help you get published. If you write a good book, and carry yourself as a professional, you're doing enough promotion.

But speaking of promotion: I have a novella that just finaled in the RITA. One commenter will get a copy of both my novella and my debut novel, PROOF BY SEDUCTION. Who wants it?

When Agents Call... Or the Art of the Phone Call Rejection

I know the most discouraging word in the English language. If you’re a writer, you know it, too. What is it? Shh! Don’t say it out loud. I’ll type it for you. Ready? Here it is: Rejection.

Rejections are the necessary evil of our profession. Of course, you can learn a lot about your writing from one. But I believe you can learn something more – especially from the best kind of rejection.

“What?” you say. “Rejections are all alike. They all mean no!”

You are so right. But not entirely. Sure, a rejection means your manuscript isn’t going to find a home with that particular editor or agent. However, a rejection can benefit your craft. More than that, though, it can benefit your career – especially if that rejection is a Phone Call Rejection.

If you’ve ever written a manuscript, polished it, described it in a query letter, and sent that query to an editor or agent, chances are your first brush with rejection didn’t involve a phone call. You received a Form Rejection. You know the one. It’s the letter or e-mail that began “Dear Author” and ended with “All the best...”

The Form Rejection is a good rejection. After all, it gets the job done. But you can’t glean a lot of useful information from it. Is this agent rejecting because she thinks your writing is flawed? Or does she simply have a full client list? You’ll never know from the Form Rejection. But keep writing and keep querying. Snag some requests. Because with those requests come a better kind of rejection – the Personalized Rejection.

In the Personalized Rejection, the editor or agent has been extremely kind. Though she hasn’t been paid for her time, she’s outlined a few comments about your work and sent them to you. She’s noted your strengths. More importantly, she’s highlighted a couple problems. A Personalized Rejection can be extremely helpful.

But the Phone Call Rejection can be more helpful still.

Because a Phone Call Rejection can be about more than just your writing.

In the relatively short time I’ve been querying, I’ve had the good fortune to receive Phone Call Rejections. When an editor or agent calls me, the first thing I do is pick myself up from the floor. The second thing I do is take notes. I jot down every bit of her critique. But the most important thing I can do is listen, because before this phone call, I only knew this publishing professional on paper. Naturally, she looks great in black and white. Her project list and her sales record are dazzling. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have queried her. But the Phone Call Rejection can breathe life into that profile.

And that can breathe life into your career.

So as you chat with this editor or agent, ask yourself...

Does she see your work in the same vein you do?
Her suggestion to add drunken werewolf zombies to your sweet, inspirational romance may mean she firmly believes you have the talent and skill to write outside the box and excel in the marketplace. Having an editor or agent who encourages you to step outside your comfort zone, and backs you with her abilities, can be a real asset. However, she may be trying to force you into a mold that doesn’t fit you, but that produces a product she’s used to selling. Finding an editor or agent who shares your goals is the key to a successful long-term working relationship.

Is she tactful?
Certainly, you’ll want an agent or editor who will tell you the truth. But the agent who is gruff with you may be gruff with editors. Alienated editors probably won’t be eager to work with her – or her clients. Perhaps you’d be better off removing her from your query list, despite her excellent sales statistics. After all, you want other publishing professionals to welcome your work, not to kill the messenger carrying it. You’ll come out ahead by recognizing this early on.

Is she presenting you with an opportunity?
Though she’s rejecting this project, she may invite you to revise this piece and resubmit it to her. Or, she may indicate she likes your style, though she doesn’t hold out much hope for this story. If that’s the case, she may be open to your sending her something new in the future. Either way, you’re in a better position than you were before – and that can take some of the sting out of the rejection.

Last but not least, keep in mind she’s forming impressions of you, too. Did you argue with her when she said your villain needed stronger motivation? She probably won’t look forward to talking to you again. Or did you thank her for her suggestions? To her, it’ll matter for next time. Because, chances are, if she’s given you a Phone Call Rejection, there will be a next time. And the next time won’t just be about your craft, or even your latest manuscript. It probably won’t be about rejection either. It’ll be about your career.

In the meantime, let the Eight know... What qualities are you looking for in an agent or editor?

In the Game

If RWA were a contact sport, making the finals of the Golden Heart Contest would be like making it to the playoffs.

On March 25th, I find out whether or not I made it to the playoffs.

Part of me, the very cynical part of me, is absolutely positive that I will. But that's got nothing to do with the writing.

My youngest is expecting her first child—and my first grandchild—right smack dab in the middle of the big RWA conference in July. Which means this will be the first RWA conference in six years that I'm going to miss. And since that's where they announce the Golden Heart awards, I'm virtually guaranteed to win. If you follow my logic.

Of course, the less cynical, and far less confident part of me, has no idea what my chances are of making the finals.

But I do know this: I'm in the game.

I finished writing the book and I entered it in the contest.

I showed up. I suited up. And I got in the game.

Now, this isn't my first time entering the Golden Heart. In fact, it's my fourth time. But it's the first time I feel competitive about it. It's the first time I really, truly feel like "I left it all on the field." Because this book is my best work yet.

And I want to win.

I want it bad.

Maybe I'm not supposed to say that out loud. As one of the Rockville 8 said recently, you're supposed to play it cool. You're not supposed to look like you care. But I don't understand that. There's no shame in losing, just heartbreak. And if I don't get a call on the 25th, I'm telling you now, my heart will break.

Luckily, I'm not the only GH contestant in the Rockville 8. There are five of us, in five different categories. And whether we win or lose, we'll be meeting the night of the 25th to celebrate.

Because writing is our dream.

And we got in the game.

As far as I'm concerned, that makes all of us winners.


Clear eyes.

Full hearts.

Can't lose . . .







(Images from the television series, Friday Night Lights)

Controlling the Silent Notes

Have you had one of these days at work recently? A day with a full desk, a dozen ongoing tasks, at least 3 immediate ones, access to email, jefe leaning over your shoulder, and the attention span of a three-month old golden retriever combined with the energy level of your average possum? Classic symptoms of adult-onset attention deficit inactivity disorder - ADID.

Yes. This was me on Friday. Currently, my office is whichever fine dining or drinking establishment that comes equipped with outlets and wifi. This allows me to move about and get refills, look at sale merchandise, or perhaps order another orange scone. And my current task - this combines the dozen ongoing and the three immediate - is to fill in 20 thousand blanks.

Each blank, of course, is a word. A word that must be plucked out of thin air (or as Dr. Galvin insisted, my collective past) and placed carefully on the page. Of course, there will surely be the requisite thes, ands, hes and mobiles, plus a smattering of queridas and Dios' (sometimes accompanying madre de). There will be phrases like "golden eyes gone molten" and "with shaking hands." Easy-peasy, some would say. They are the same ones who exclaimed how on earth I could possibly write a novel "complete with character arcs" with only 50 thousand words. As though that weren't enough to get the characters across a street let alone to evolve. Of course, right then, on Friday, I almost wanted to throw in a scene or two of them walking back and forth across some street or boulevard because I couldn't find the next sentence that would move the story forward.

I sat there, staring up into Saint-Exupery's cluttered atmosphere and wondered how I could possibly make that chaos into not only coherent sentences, but satisfying scenes that culminated into a happily ever after. (HEA, for those in the know.) Because much is dependent on that HEA. You may even feel a little pitty for the 20K blanks for having so much riding on them. The reader's satisfaction and trust. The writer's ability to pay rent. The editor's trust in the writer...

Last night, I attended a Berta Rojas concert, a classical guitarist from Paraguay. It was extraordinary. Amazing. Before Rojas performed each piece, she would first still the strings. Because if she didn't, they would hum, softly. And that hum is not part of the song. Maybe only she could feel them as she held the guitar, but as soon as she stilled them, the air became silent.

She would begin each song with a silent guitar and end each song with a note's full vibration. When she finished and struck the final note, she allowed it to continue and continue, and her face and her body would curl into her instrument and I would want to shout Is that it? because the anticipation was too much and I didn't know if I should clap or breathe or listen harder. I had to wait for her to raise her head because even if I could no longer hear the note, Berta could still feel its vibration and until it was completely silent, the song had not yet ended.

When I look at those 20K blanks in my immediate future, I feel as though the page is humming. I am past the mid-point of my novel, the stakes have continued to rise, and my characters need to be twisted even tighter so that the climax will carry the reader straight through to anticipating my next book. I think my ADID has stymied my ability to differentiate between the need to simply lay my hand across a page and silence the past whispers or find the actual thread of my last note and coax it into an audible sound. I realized, listening to Berta Rojas play, that like her and her guitar, I am the only one in control of my pages; I can silence them or fill them with words. Or I can get up and get another refill of Pepsi.

What do you do when you find yourself in this place - of knowing that you are the only available to complete the task, that you actually can complete it, but are immobilized by what is riding on its outcome?