Kindness, Yes

 Wasatch Mountains, Provo, Utah

Being in some form of customer service over my past many, many years of working, I've come to appreciate those who deal with the public and do it well. Today in the midst of writing and planning my next book, I took a short break. Well, it was supposed to be short. But during that break, I encountered a woman who knows exactly what excellent customer service is all about.

Dear husband and I are moving in the spring. We've bought a small home--half the size of where we live now--and are looking forward to this next phase and new neighborhood. We're also looking to cut expenses. The cutting expenses bit was the reason for my short break as I remembered I had to contact our cable/internet provider and explore options on ... you guessed it, cutting expenses. I also needed the short break because writers' brains begin to fry after too many hours at the keyboard. A sizzle in my ear warned me it was about that time.

I'll admit up front that I don't like talking on the phone. Main reason: most folks (self included) tend to speak too quickly, or don't enunciate, or possess some type of accent that scrambles my brain as it attempts to decipher what they're really saying. Rather than speak on the phone, many businesses offer the option of "chatting" online. Chatting online is good for me. The typist could have an entire mouthful of marbles and my brain won't care. I can read and understand what the other person says. 

Somewhere in Utah

So I accessed the cable/internet company during my break by hitting the "Chat" button on their webpage, and Voila! ready and able customer service person at my disposal.

Sometimes, I can be overly chatty, but I know customer service reps are busy folks, so I try to shorten my conversations with them, unlike this post (see, I knew what you were thinking). I came straight to the point and told Evelyn--the chat box showed her name as she typed--that we wanted to reduce our bill. How could she help us do that?

After presenting an option whereby we could save nearly $100 per month, but which included a two-year contract, I informed Evelyn that we'd be moving soon, and asked about the ramifications if we signed this new two-year contract. Truthfully, I didn't want to enter into a two-year contract, but Evelyn was nice, so I left that part out.

Evelyn stopped typing. I assumed she had left to ask a supervisor about my question. She eventually returned and discussed a couple more options regarding the move, etc. Then she typed, "May I call you?" Well, Evelyn, I knew we were having a nice chat and all, but there's this thing I have about the phone ... No. I didn't say any of that. I said, "Sure," and gave her my number. Within ten seconds, Evelyn called.

Politely trespassing in my previous neighbor's yard to photograph his beautiful plants.

She proceeded to tell me (which I assumed she didn't want written and on record in the chat, but hey, don't they record customer service phone conversations, too?) that her company has some AH-MAZE-ING new customer deals. As in, if we move and I simply cancel our service at the present address, then we'll be considered "new" customers at the new address and can take advantage of these IN-CRE-DUH-BUL offers. She actually said that since we were long-time valued customers, she wanted to make sure that she took good care of me/us, which meant giving us the excellent new customer deals.

Huge respect for Evelyn right there. She recognized that it's a farce to lure new customers in with such incredible deals, all while you're making your existing, years-long, pay-on-time customers end up paying way more. I could hear the wheels turning in Evelyn's mind. I could hear the indignity of how unfair it was to treat loyal, proven customers that way.

The thing is, what she proposed was within company guidelines, everything above-board. We could have continued our online written chat, she could have said, "Here's the deal. Take it or leave it."

But she didn't.

She took care of the customer. She left me feeling special and that I got an AH-MAZE-ING deal. In the end, isn't that what we're all looking for when dealing with any kind of customer service?

Palm tree inside the pool cage where we used to live.

There was a survey at the end of the "Chat." Guess how many 10's I gave Evelyn. Yep. All of them.

I hope I can remember to treat folks how Evelyn treated me: make them feel special, go above and beyond. Treat them like the AH-MAZE-ING folks that they are.

Break's over. Costs cut. Back to writing.

Ten Minutes with a Literary Agent

Remember my post last week about querying agents? If you need a refresher, go back and re-read. I'll wait. ** taps foot and hums Monkees song from the 60's **

Alrighty, then. Much has changed since that post. First, I received my first rejection from this batch of agents queried. But I also encountered a significant opportunity of which I took full advantage.

A group called The Manuscript Academy--headed up by Julie True Kingsley and Jessica Sinsheimer--rounded up several literary agents and a sprinkling of editors who were willing (for a modest fee) to meet over Skype with those of us interested in spending ten minutes with an agent (or editor). We could ask whatever questions we had about the publishing industry in general, have said agent critique a query letter, or have them critique the first page of our manuscript.

It was pure genius on their parts. I am shocked no one has thought of this before. Kudos for the extensive planning and execution, ladies! Such an incredible opportunity!

I've participated in face-to-face agent queries at two separate writer's conferences. The experience is nerve-wracking for many reasons, but my main pet peeves: The room is so noisy, you have to practically shove your lips down the agent's ear canal so they can hear you; if it's a "herding" situation, i.e., you're one of the herd and must wait in line to speak with an agent, time can run out.

Skype facetime for ten minutes from the quiet and privacy of your home is literary heaven. The conversations were so relaxed, I not only heard what the agents had to say, but I was able to absorb it in a non-frenzied situation.

Because. Flowers.

The two agents I chose were Jaida Temperly (New Leaf Literary) and Sarah LaPolla (Bradford Literary Agency). They were both interested in magical realism. Turns out my book doesn't fall into the magical realism genre, but is supernatural with speculative elements. Jaida does not represent these genres, but she was still generous with her critique. Sarah, I learned at the end of the ten minutes, reps urban fantasy, but more about this in a bit.

Since my history of querying indicates agents are interested in the story and my query further piques their interest, but then a disconnect exists with my writing (submitting the first few pages), I wanted to get to the bottom of the disconnect. Therefor, I purchased two ten-minute sessions with each agent, the first session to cover the query, and the second session to cover my first page.

Jaida related that both my query and writing held her interest, and she would keep reading. She encouraged me to submit to agents who are specifically looking for my genre. She suggested that I try to reduce my word count below 100K (currently at 107K+) because that could be an automatic turnoff for some agents.

Sarah deconstructed my query letter and explained what I could cut and what she wanted more of, what the query letter left out that she wanted to know. So I explained a confusing passage for her. She pointed out how the new information, when added, tied together the entire query. She also showed me how the query did not directly connect to my opening page. That point alone, I believe, is the major disconnect I've been experiencing.

Both Jaida and Sarah agreed with my editor--I'm beginning my novel in the wrong place, and then we all agreed where it should begin. The correction would affect the dreaded high word count and bring it more in line with industry standards. I loved Sarah's honesty when she stated, "If I'm on a time crunch and your query and story capture my interest, but it's over 100K words, I know I don't have the time to read it and will pass for that reason alone."

At the end of our conversation, I asked Sarah what agents at her agency she might refer me to when I was ready again to query. She said, "Me! I'd love for you to query me." After I picked myself up off the floor, I told her I looked forward to it!

One thing I must add to this post: all the agents and editors I've interacted with, both in person and over Skype, have been good, decent people who are just like you and me. They're down-to-earth, easy to converse with, and eager to help writers become successful.

And isn't that what we should all strive for--helping one another. Now, back to writing and revising!

One of the strangest flowers I've ever seen or photographed.

Querying My Novel

Cotswolds Bliss 9" x 12" pastel painting, Lyn Goodpaster artist

Creativity.

We all have it, some more than others, but it's there in everyone.

Creating brings joy. To make something out of a thought, an idea, and express it in some manner for others to enjoy ... what an incredible feeling!

Think back to the last time someone complimented you on something, and you were able to say, "I made that." or "I painted that." or "I wrote that." Can you feel it now, that sense of accomplishment, that validation of talent?

I love to paint and write, sometimes at the same time. While lost in painting, I'll think about the current novel I'm working on, or come up with ideas for my next novel, or work out a scene that's stymied me.

Which brings me to this post and its title: Querying My Novel.

When an author believes she has written and rewritten and edited and polished a novel to utter completion (which is a fallacy, because an agent or editor will always suggest improvements), and said author would like to publish traditionally, then the process of querying literary agents begins.

So not only must your novel shine, but so should the query letter, because an author wants to strongly entice the agent to read the novel. Then the first five, ten, or fifty pages attached with the query must be perfect enough for the agent to want to read more and request it from the author. This request will either be for a partial or full manuscript.

But before you can begin to query literary agents, you must research to find the agents who are actually interested in the genre you've written, and make sure they're open to queries at the time said author is ready to query.

Whew!

Good Morning, Nauvoo 22" x 30" watercolor painting, Lyn Goodpaster artist

Why am I telling you all this? As of two weeks ago, I began querying my novel to various literary agents. I haven't heard back from anyone yet, which can be interpreted as good or bad. 

Good, because they haven't reached it yet in their overflowing queue of hundreds of other authors also querying, or maybe they're considering asking to see more. 

Or Bad, because they don't have time to even send a rejection form letter, so my query and hopes of representation with that agent are shoved aside without my knowledge, except when they say, "If you've heard nothing from me at the end of four weeks, consider it a pass."

Creativity. You put your heart and soul into it, and instead of compliments, you're passed over along with the rest of the slush pile. Or they love what you've created and big things start to happen. Seriously, it can go either way.

For now, while my creation waits inside the email in-boxes of various literary agents, I'll get back to more creating. Either painting or writing.

Because it's the act of creating that feeds my soul. I hope yours has been fed by viewing my artwork here. 

If not, seek what feeds your soul. Go create. And do it with a rescue dog on your lap. If no one else loves your creations, at least you know your dog loves you no matter what.

Paco, Chihuahua Miniature Pinscher mix