Jamming On The Breaks

I took my first ever drug test yesterday. Provided that Safeway doesn't find out that I'm on crack, I have a job. I was amused with myself for not being sure I would pass the drug test. I mean, I know that I have not done any drugs in the past nineteen years because drugs totally suck. I know for a fact that I have never done crack. So I know that I have no cocaine or heroine or pot in my system. So why the reservation? Even if Safeway is waiting for official confirmation of my drug free status, surely I can be sure I have the job?

Just goes to show you how suspicious I have become about opportunity and how it doesn't come my way without barbs anymore. I am a faithless one. Well, Safeway seems like a much better place to work than Joann's Fabric, but they don't start you off with good pay, in case anyone was wondering. It's union, so if you put in enough hours you will certainly get raises, but the start pay is just about as dismal as anywhere else. But, with so few opportunities on the horizon I don't have a right to complain. So, I start training this Saturday.

Just to let you all know, I submitted a book proposal to Lark and I'm sure that if anything I submit gets accepted I will not be allowed to discuss any details...but it should be safe to say that the editor who got my proposal is giving it a good look. If she likes it she may take it to the Acquisitions committee. I won't know anything for at least a month. But I am proud of myself for finally knuckling down and putting it all together. I felt really good about what I sent and it all suddenly seemed so clear to me how it would look, what the projects would be and how to present it.

I'm going to need to find out some industry details such as: if you've mentioned that you have a couple of other ideas to an editor and they say they are already doing a similar project and won't pursue them, can you take it to a different publisher? Even if the first publisher might be considering one of your proposals? I mean, working with different publishers at the same time who might be competitors...is that frowned on? Do you wait until you're through dealing with one completely before approaching another?

Yesterday I came up with another idea. I don't have a lot of cutting edge craft ideas. The publishers want new fresh material and most of what I do can only be described as new and fresh because of the personal style I impose on my projects, the projects themselves aren't anything new. To publish a book of crafts that aren't really fresh but whose strength lies in the unique styling is generally reserved for crafters and designers who already have a known name with which to sell their book. There is one craft I do that I still don't see a lot of around the craft world but which I think is pretty great. I'm not going to tell you what it is, instead I'm going to turn all cagey and secretive on you.

I promise it's only because I need to do some market research. If I want to propel myself out of the situation we've been in I had better get serious about proposing book ideas to publishers. All my life everything has come back to the writing. I have, so many times, made a push to get serious (code for: get published) and so many times I would find that I wasn't ready for it. My skills weren't honed enough. I didn't know what my purpose was. My goal. A writer needs a goal; to tell stories if they are fiction writers. But if you suck at writing fiction and only one in one thousand poems is any good but you clearly have a gift with words...what do you do with it? Where do you take it?

I know now what my nonfiction voice is. It's evident all over this blog. But before I can convince someone to publish my essays, I had better develop a better portfolio of published works. Who will buy a book by an unknown writer spouting off a bunch of random opinions? I have finally actually figured out where to start with the serious creative nonfiction. It's difficult because I don't want to write a memoir exactly. I don't want to write anything that will heavily involve my family who, I don't believe, is ready to be written about. Too much raw feeling still lives in that part of the past. There was a part of my past though that has a provides a rich thick layer of tales to tell and queer light through which to see a life opening up.

The two years I went to FIDM between the ages of seventeen and nineteen. I was mostly disconnected from my family. The stories really don't involve them. It was a time during which I had an epiphany and then the usual anticlimax that follows big moments of enlightenment.

I will start working on that and let it flesh itself out as I go along. In the mean time I will work on my book proposal writing and pitching skills with craft books. Whatever I have in me that's worth presenting I will present. I think I've got three strong titles in me.

Personally, I think publishers and editors will find that while I'm a rather large personality, I'm not at all a diva to work with. I'm very professional. I know I don't sound like a very professional person on my own blog. That's because this is MY CLUB HOUSE AND I CAN EAT CHEESE ALL DAY IF I WANT TO AND CRY INTO MY BEER...

...and wonder what the hell is going on with the Danny/Lindsy plot on CSI? I'm irritated that Lindsy is suddenly turning into a person with issues that prevent her from being decent to Danny who really likes her, and she must be a real dumb nut not to see that he's an awesome guy.

Summer is knocking me flat. It isn't hot weather, because we haven't had much of that. It's the kid being out of school. My friends who home-school are made of much sterner and more maternal material than me. It's only been a week so far and I am just about ready to claw holes in the plaster walls out of frustration. I want some peace. I think writers don't necessarily make the best parenting material. I want to concentrate on my projects like getting a job and writing but the kid wants me to play legos, watch movies, watch him play video games, and is constantly in need of something from me.

Max is signed up with a summer day camp which starts in a week. I hope we're all still alive by then. I may be buried in the back yard under my favorite rose by then. What remains of me...