Beyond the Bucket

Beyond the Bucket

Last week was pretty eye-opening. I guess I hadn’t really had time to think about much else other than my memoir over the past two years, but in a way I think I might have thought that once it was all written and polished, once I had reached my bucket-item goal, I’d be done. But of course, that’s not the case at all, and I knew this all along too.


Finishing this literary work was my bucket item, yes. And in that sense, yeah, I’ve completed my goal. I’m ready to die. :o)  But I’m still alive, so what now? What comes next?


Well, I’ve been doing a whole lot of reading this week, and apparently, my next step on the road to Writerhood is to develop something called a platform. An identity. An online presence. Articles and stories, as I mentioned before, and also this here bloggy-doohicky. So I’m committing to posting regularly here, at least once a week, ideally, and it will have to be related to what I know: writing, drawing, parenting, traveling, trying to maintain a cool head under pressure, raising chickens in a city with a law against having chickens in the home… stuff like that. A miscellaneous conglomerate of hodge-podgy this-and-thats.


Tonight, it’s about my very first query letter ever. This past Monday I wrote my first Book Proposal ever, and that was tricky in and of itself. But a query letter? Phew, that was a whole ‘nother animal. I started early this afternoon thinking I could knock it out in a couple of hours, but I just sat and sat and stared and stared at my words–it had to be sharp and professional, concise and compelling, and above all else and for the love of god, brief!


I plucked out phrases and entire paragraphs from what I’d already written, but nothing seemed punchy enough, you know? It was weak. After four hours, I started to feel pretty discouraged. Who am I kidding? I said to myself. Nobody’s gonna wanna read this thing. It’s too long. Who’s going to care?


But then I thought about all the books on all those shelves at all those book stores, many of which–I’m sorry, but I gotta say it–just aren’t high quality. Somebody is publishing them. Somebody is giving them the okay. And if they’re getting yesses, then so can I. The only person stopping me is myself, I’ll never know if I don’t try, and yadda yadda yadda… I pep-talked my way into writing a damn good query letter, if I do say so myself, and five hours after the doubts started creeping in, I sent it off to Agente Número Dos. Crossing my fingers in the hopes that she thinks it’s as good as I do.

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