I heard from three readers! Three! That's a ton if you ask me. But they enjoyed the "updates from the field" series that I've been running to ground.
However . . .
This could be it. This is all I could find from the series of humorous posts from the front-lines from our CEO that I produced for a leadership group I created at work years ago.
In my last video, I spoke about my audience for this blog. One large cohort of this audience has pitched a very compelling and cogent question. Basically, many of my former students who like to peruse this blog have asked what happened to my beard.
So, in my efforts to continue to move away from just providing written word updates, here's my next video. Enjoy.
As this blog is about my writing and (hopeful) publication, I thought I'd mention some of the other publications that I have earned. In this most recent case, the June issue of Adult Learning, a peer-reviewed academic journal of the American Association of Adult and Continuing Education, was released yesterday, and there at the bottom is my name listed next to a book review.
Adaptive instructional design was something that I was working toward in my prior position at a non-profit safety council.
We were actively working on several different solutions that focused on using technology to support adaptive learning. First, I think it's important to note that in my perspective there is a difference between adaptive learning and differentiated learning. While both are pro-active one is constantly adapting and changing, (adaptive) while the other is a bit less pro-active and could be seen in my view as reactive. I see them as similar but slightly different variants. Like a naval orange and a blood orange. Farrer (2024) does a good job of explaining this when she writes about differentiation that: "the teacher recognizes that students have differing needs and addresses them before learning occurs" (para. 24). While adaptive learning environments, she writes: "adaptive teaching is when the teacher continuously collects data on students and then uses that data to adapt their teaching in the moment" (para. 25).
I had to draft a script for a presentation on SAMR vs TPACK. This is what I got:
I enjoy focusing on the contrast between change management and change leadership. This has been an actual challenge for me throughout my life.
Kotter (2011) emphasizes that change management focuses "refers to a set of basic tools or structures intended to keep any change effort under control" (para. 1). Change leadership however requires something deeper. Again, according to Kotter (2011), change leadership is "concerns the driving forces, visions and processes that fuel large-scale transformation" (para. 1). Both concern, in my opinion, the ability to influence people toward a shared or common vision but there are disticnt difference. I also think there is a time latency aspect where change leadership begins before the project, and before change management. It's making a case for change as well.
I got a chance to sit behind my old colleagues for a short flight back home. I didn't "try" to listen in, but I did hear. And each successive sentence made me realize how happy I was to have left. I listened to them say this and that and then this again, . . . (then that again) . . . and I swear I didn't want to roll my eyes, . . But I may have.
I'm reading a book about D-Day by Stephen Ambrose. I've read a lot of books by Ambrose over the years. I gave up on him due to the "plagiarism" scandal at the end of his life. I wasn't a fan of that. And I'm still not. BUT, I've been stunned (as my readers well know) by the magnitude of plagiarism taking hold in academic circles, see for instance Harvard's president, et al. I wonder if there is a study there somewhere. Regardless, Ambrose is a greater writer. More on that later.
What I find interesting is his description of the landing at Omaha Beach. The first invasion he discusses is Utah, and for the most part that sounds rather staid. But boy, Omaha was a goat fuck.
I think it's funny how little things can throw us for a loop. For example, I felt like I was doing great yesterday. Working hard, moving forward, enjoying my work, etc. Then BOOM one message from my boss, and everything is thrown into a scrum.
In this case, it's such a silly message too.
There are two type of story tropes that I particularly enjoy. I've never written any like it, but they are well-known and usually well-liked. My next project is going to be my own effort to bring them both together.
I love movies with multiple divergent yet congruent and intersecting story lines and character arcs. At the beginning of the story, you have multiple characters, none of whom seem to have any relationship with the others. By the end of the movie, you recognize where and why they all intersect, and usually they intersect in ways that the reader or watcher would never have suspected.
I just had another article published (HERE). Woo-Hoo! Sadly, this might be the least impressive of the bunch.
I started my own IRB last summer. Why? Well, I was tired of latching on to different universities. Every time I used K-State's IRB, I had to rope in Dr. K. And every time I published, since he didn't do anything more than latch onto my IRB, I never included him as an author. It felt weird.
Texas A&M's IRB process took months to complete. That was one good thing about K-State's. It usually takes less than a week.
I received yet another request for a full manuscript. This is a positive development as I stated before, but still I have yet to hear from any agents who have already read my writing. This is a bit disconcerting.
When I started this process I was sure that Toe the Line was a decent novel. Sure it could have used another edit or two, but still, compared to some of the other novels I have read it wasn’t too bad. Also, I’ve been in some writing groups, and it seemed to me that my novel was as good if not better than some of the material I was reading in those groups. I thought for sure that Toe the Line could hold its own if that was my competition.
Now, a month or so into this query process, and having heard from no agents who have actually read some sample chapters I’m beginning to doubt myself. I find myself wishing I had undergone another re-write. I find myself wishing that Body Count was done so I could sent that around. It’s a funny loss of confidence. It’s taken 5 weeks to lose it, like gravel on a trail rolling down the hill. My trail is now far less substantial than it was back in July.
Still in all, three requests for full manuscript is better than none. I still look forward to hearing more from someone who actually reads my sample chapters and wants to read more.
One aspect of this process I find interesting is the querying rules. Agents all have their own specific sets of rules about how to query, and for the most part I follow them exactly. I believe this comes from my work as a proposal writer. One aspect of that job that I enjoyed was the fact that the format was set in stone. We had to follow the RFP guidelines to the letter, even if it seemed counter intuitive. I find myself doing the same with these queries. I would imagine, having been on both sides of the proposal process, that many writers don’t follow the instructions as precisely. I think I would find that irksome as an agent.
If I, an agent, specifically told a writer to query me in a certain way, it wouldn’t automatically disqualify them, but I would sure begin reading their work with a different mindset.
But what I find interesting is that there is no set standard for query replies. I received to rejections yesterday. One of them came on nice letter head and was typed, TYPED like on a type writer, quite formally. That was the best rejection yet. Surprisingly, on the day that I get my best rejection, I also get my worst. This rejection came from an agent who didn’t even bother to use her own paper. She wrote “Not for us” at the top of my query and placed my own query back into my SASE. Great for recycling and being green, but still, kinda lazy and cheap if you ask me.
If a writer goes through all the trouble that I do, using resume paper, printing out the agents name and address on the letter, printing a nice SASE, stamps on everything, I would at least expect a form letter in response.
Interestingly the best rejection I’ve gotten was a hand written note from an agent in New York. She had scrawled in cursive on the note, “Sadly, not quite right for me. But good luck! Thanks for the query.” Then she signed her name.
The blog a Guide to Literary Agents has a series on “How I got my agent.” Its fun to read, gives some insight, and helps me keep motivated.
Today’s author, Billy Coffey, writes about how he found his agent. He mentions that prior to looking for an agent he thought the hard part of getting published would be finishing the novel. Not so. He says the hard part is finding an agent.
This reminds me of the Ranger Indoctrination Program (RIP). We were told constantly how RIP is easy compared to the work we would be forced to do in our Ranger units. None of us believed it. RIP was three weeks of genuine hell. No food, no sleep, 20 mile forced marches at a sprint pace, early morning runs that left us devastated, constant, continually training, psychological games, an attrition rate above 50%, and running everywhere we went. SMOKER!
However, the Ranger Instructors (RI) were right. All the times they said “RIP is easy compared to what your unit will expect from you” were spot on. My first week in Bravo Company, I think day two or three, I found myself hanging outside a decrepit Huey, with all the gear no one else wanted to hump. My shoelaces were unlaced and I had no hope of getting down there and fixing them for at least two days, lost a good portion of my gear, my back ached from all the gear, a M203 that was a dinosaur compared to what privates use today, and my 1st gen nods, the worst in the squad, actually made the dark harder to walk through. We walked and rested (intermittently) for five days in the field. This was all training for an exercise in Louisiana that started the following week. It was a true trial by fire and by the end of it I was begging to go back to the easy days of RIP.
This is how I see the agent search going. Novel finishing is difficult, so far finding an agent hasn’t been a thrill, but each challenge is preparation for the next. Just like Basic Training, Infantry Training, Airborne and RIP were stair steps up toward a Ranger unit and going to Ranger School.
Good thing I have a history that includes success in these endeavors and now I know what to expect.
Got another snail mail acceptance. This one was from an agent at an international agency, offices in LA, New York and London. It is interesting if only because this is the first time an agent has asked for the complete manuscript, printed, and on an exclusive basis. Naturally this brings up some problems.
I have sent partials to many agents already so I know that I’ll have to admit that somehow in the letter I write to her. But I have one full manuscript out as well. The agent with the full manuscript right now says she needs 4 weeks. It has been with her since the 8th. I should wait a week and a half more before contacting her.
I’m tempted just to send the full manuscript to this new agent and hope for the best. But what happens if the first agent comes back with a positive response? I’ve decided to go ahead and wait at least one more week, then contact that first agent, see where she’s at, and then send the manuscript to the second (exclusive) agent to read.
On her blog, Janet Reid wrote about how silly and time wasting exclusive readings are, in a posting called Exclusives Stink. I understand the dilemma. Despite her advice and the 50 or so comments from other writers, I’m still left with poor choices.
Still, I’m waiting for that agent to accept my work or ask for more after having read some. I’ve yet to get that type of positive feedback.
What Makes Characters Interesting
Narrative energy, ABC – Always Be Conflicting, Characters must want something and have obstacles in their way preventing their getting it. Don’t make perfect characters.
Plot Twists
Plot twists are narrative gold. The more you can genuinely surprise the reader the better. Lead with plot twists as they are exciting.
Three Act Structure
Provides enough change to keep the story dynamic. Characters always need to be in movement.
Create Tension
Set up expectations then don’t fulfill them or deny them. Someone off doing something they shouldn’t be. The reader wants the action completed, delaying the expected action sets up tension.
Action at the Beginning of the Story
Action without character is boring. Action should always lead to character development. Openn with character. Once the reader cares about the character the action is more compelling.
Outlining
Beat sheet major dramatic moments of the story. The more detailed your outline the less you’ll enjoy writing. Outline non-linearly. Plug in major parts then write to link them.
Recommended
Paranoia by Joe Fender
Johnathon Strouper
Ghost Written by David Mitchell
For the Dogs by Ken Wignall
All is Vanity by Christina Schwartz
Since I am not presently mailing the manuscript out, I'm going to post some lines from Toe the Line and my thoughts on them.
The line at the airport snack stand was too long and slow in moving so I turned around without getting the drink I wanted. Although I had plenty of time before the flight, waiting in an inhospitable line is not a way I like to spend my afternoon, or even thirty minutes of that afternoon. I walked with little purpose back toward my gate and looked up and saw Wheeler as he lay on the cheap, grey carpet, his head resting on his backpack. A small group of people looked down at him, their expressions worried expressions and confused. I thought absently of meerkats in Africa sticking their heads up above their burrows in search of predators.
I am still not thrilled with this opening. I think there is a chance of immediately losing the reader...but isn't that a chance that you face with anything? I hope at least that what I'm describing is something most people can relate to and read with a feeling of empathy. I wanted to be more descriptive, but felt being too descriptive bogged down the action of the first bit, and that would have been even worse. Strangely, I've always felt the meerkats analogy was silly, but when I read it as a part of the edit I liked it, so there it stays.
I wrote this in my last revision and boy, I really like it.
As I sat in that little room watching her, listening to her, I felt an overwhelming urge to yell at her, to shake some sense into her, to hurt her for having put me through the last two years for her own uncertainty. The anger subsided and instead I sat and listened to her talk on about the problems that her mother’s decision had created in her life. At the time she left I knew she was suffering, but now, listening to her talk about her feelings over the last two years, I realized that the emotional storm that I saw when we first broke up had not been a tsunami that washed gently away. Madison’s anger had been like a Seattle rain, slow, ever-present, rarely gone for long. Eventually she did cry, but just a single tear, and that she wiped away quickly before she stiffened again; typical Madison.
In 1991, a book editor at Random House pulled from the heaps of unsolicited manuscripts a novel about a murder that roils a Baltimore suburb. Written by a first-time author and mother named Mary Cahill, "Carpool" was published to fanfare. Ms. Cahill was interviewed on the "Today" show. "Carpool" was a best seller.
That was the last time Random House, the largest publisher in the U.S., remembers publishing anything found in a slush pile. Today, Random House and most of its major counterparts refuse to accept unsolicited material.
Getting plucked from the slush pile was always a long shot—in large part, editors and Hollywood development executives say, because most unsolicited material has gone unsolicited for good reason. But it did happen for some: Philip Roth, Anne Frank, Judith Guest. And so to legions of would-be novelists, journalists and screenwriters—not to mention "D-girls" and "manuscripts girls" from Hollywood to New York who held the hope that finding a gem might catapult them from entry level to expense account—the slush pile represented The Dream.
Now, slush is dead, or close to extinction. Film and television producers won't read anything not certified by an agent because producers are afraid of being accused of stealing ideas and material. Most book publishers have stopped accepting book proposals that are not submitted by agents. Magazines say they can scarcely afford the manpower to cull through the piles looking for the Next Big Thing.
It wasn't supposed to be this way. The Web was supposed to be a great democratizer of media. Anyone with a Flip and Final Cut Pro could be a filmmaker; anyone with a blog a memoirist. But rather than empowering unknown artists, the Web is often considered by talent-seeking executives to be an unnavigable morass.
It used to be that you could bang out a screenplay on your typewriter, then mail it in to a studio with a self-addressed stamped envelope and a prayer. Studios already were reluctant to read because of plagiarism concerns, but they became even more skittish in 1990 when humorist Art Buchwald sued Paramount, alleging that the studio stole an idea from him and turned it into the Eddie Murphy vehicle, "Coming to America." (Mr. Buchwald received an undisclosed settlement from Paramount.)
Today, you can't even send an e-mail to a studio. When visitors to the Universal Pictures Web site select the "contact us" option, they must agree to a waiver that frees Universal and its affiliates from liability related to accusations of plagiarism. "While we are always happy to hear from you," the Web notice says, "it is Universal's policy not to accept or consider creative materials, ideas, or suggestions other than those we specifically request. This is to avoid any misunderstandings if your ideas are similar to those we have developed independently."
"It does create an incredibly difficult Catch-22 on both sides, particularly for new writers wanting to get their work seen," says Hannah Minghella, president of production for Sony Pictures Animation.
Fending off plagiarism lawsuits has become an increasing headache for publishers and studios. "It's become the cultural version of malpractice," says Kurt Andersen, the novelist and host of public radio's "Studio 360."
Some producers make it easy: They just refuse to deal with new writers at all. Mike Clements, president of Good Humor, the production company founded by Tom Werner ("The Cosby Show"), has a personal policy against reading any sample or script that is not sent to him by an agent. "I make the occasional exception for a friend, or for my aunt," he says. "I just make them sign a release first."
As writers try to find an agent—a feat harder than ever to accomplish in the wake of agency consolidations and layoffs—the slush pile has been transferred from the floor of the editor's office to the attaché cases of representatives who can broker introductions to publishing, TV and film executives. The result is a shift in taste-making power onto such agents, managers and attorneys. Theirs are now often the first eyes to make a call on what material will land on bookshelves, television sets and movie screen.
Still, discoveries do happen at agencies, including the biggest publishing franchise since "Harry Potter"—even though it basically took a mistake to come together. In 2003, an unknown writer named Stephenie Meyer sent a letter to the Writers House agency asking if someone might be interested in reading a 130,000-word manuscript about teenage vampires. The letter should have been thrown out: an assistant whose job, in part, was to weed through the more than 100 such letters each month, didn't realize that agents mostly expected young adult fiction to weigh in at 40,000 to 60,000 words. She contacted Ms. Meyer and ultimately asked that she send her manuscript.
The manuscript was passed on to an agent, Jodi Reamer. She liked what she read, a novel called "Twilight." She signed Ms. Meyer, and sold the book to Little, Brown. The most recent sequel in the series, "Breaking Dawn," sold 1.3 million copies the day it went on sale in August 2008. The latest film grossed more than $288 million in the U.S.
At William Morris Endeavor Entertainment, Adriana Alberghetti only reads scripts sent to her by producers, managers and lawyers whose taste she knows and trusts. The agent says she receives 30 unsolicited e-mails a day from writers and people she doesn't know who are pushing unknown writers, and she hits "delete" without opening. These days, she is taking on few "baby writers," she says, adding that risks she would have taken five years ago she won't today. "I'll take very few shots on a new voice. It's tough out there right now," she says.
Book publishers say it is now too expensive to pay employees to read slush that rarely is worthy of publication. At Simon & Schuster, an automated telephone greeting instructs aspiring writers: "Simon & Schuster requires submissions to come to us via a literary agent due to the large volume of submissions we receive each day. Agents are listed in 'Literary Marketplace,' a reference work published by R.R. Bowker that can be found in most libraries." Company spokesman Adam Rothberg says the death of the publisher's slush pile accelerated after the terror attacks of 9/11 by fear of anthrax in the mail room.
A primary aim of the slush pile used to be to discover unpublished voices. But today, writing talent isn't necessarily enough. It helps to have a big-media affiliation, or be effective on TV. "We are being more selective in taking on clients because the publishers are demanding much more from the authors than ever before," says Laurence J. Kirshbaum, former CEO of Time Warner Book Group and now an agent. "From a publisher's standpoint, the marketing considerations, especially on non-fiction, now often outweigh the editorial ones."
Getting an opportunity in Hollywood as a writer once required little more than affiliation with elite institutions like the Harvard Lampoon, the humor magazine which spawned writers for "The Simpsons" and a host of others. The Web was supposed to dismantle such barriers. And to be sure, the Web has provided a path for some writers who use it well.
Scott Belsky, a 29-year-old Web entrepreneur whose sites include "The 99 Percent," wanted to write a book on how to succeed in the creative industries. To secure representation, he approached agents with data on his Web traffic, samples of reader comments posted on the site, and the number of times various posts had been blogged about, tweeted and retweeted on social-networking site Twitter. This data convinced Jim Levine at Levine Greenberg Literary Agency to take on Mr. Belsky as a client. Mr. Levine used the information to land him a book deal. "Making Ideas Happen" will be published in April by Portfolio, a division of Penguin Group.
"These days, you need to deliver not just the manuscript but the audience," says Mr. Levine. "More and more, the mantra in publishing is 'Ask not what your publisher can do for you, ask what you can do for your publisher.'"
But relationships still trump everything. Consider the path of one television series, "Sons of Tucson," set to debut on Fox in March. The show, a sitcom about kids who hire a ne'er-do-well to stand in as their father after their real dad is sent to prison, was created and co-written by neophytes—a rare event.
Tommy Dewey and Greg Bratman worked hard to get their big break, but because Mr. Dewey had done some acting, he was able to sign with a manager. The manager introduced them to a producer, Harvey Myman, who helped them develop a pilot script and got them a meeting with Fox, which ordered a pilot, then the series.
"Sons of Tucson" shows that unknowns can still make it—if they make some connections. "You really do rely on other people to be the arbiters of what may and may not work," says Marcus Wiley, a Fox TV executive. "If I was an agent submitting to an executive, I'm going to be calling that executive next week for something else. So the chances of me claiming plagiarism are slim," he adds. "This keeps both sides honest."
Despite the refrain that most everything sent to the slush pile is garbage, publishing executives confess to a nagging insecurity of missing something big. "Harry Potter" was submitted to 12 publishers (by an agent), all of whom rejected it. A year later, Bloomsbury published it in the U.K.
In 2008. HarperCollins launched Authonomy.com, a Web slush pile. Writers can upload their manuscripts, readers vote for their favorites, and HarperCollins editors read the five highest-rated manuscripts each month. About 10,000 manuscripts have been loaded so far and HarperCollins has bought four.
The first, "The Reaper," came out in July and sold moderately well. Last November, the publisher released another Authonomy offering, a young adult book called "Fairytale of New York," which has sold over 100,000 copies and is a best seller in Britain. HarperCollins also launched a similar platform for teen writers called "InkPop."
One slush stalwart—the Paris Review— has college interns and graduate students in the magazine's Tribeca loft-office read the 1,000 unsolicited works submitted each month. Each short story is read by at least two people. If one likes it and the other doesn't, it is read by a third. Any submission that receives two "Ps" for "pass" as opposed to "R" for "reject" is read by an editor.
"We take the democratic ideal represented by the slush pile seriously," says managing editor Caitlin Roper.
The literary journal publishes one piece from the slush pile each year. That leaves each unsolicited submission a .008% chance of rising to the top of the pile.
Write to Katherine Rosman at katherine.rosman@wsj.com
