Spring Break!

In the last week, I've gone from freezing rain and 40s in Indianapolis to almost 90 degrees, hot and humid back home. I'm not complaining--I love spring break at the beach!

The girls and I've made the drive from our house to Orange Beach or Gulf Shores or Pensacola more times than I can count in the last seven years. So for this vacation post, I'll share some of my favorite landmarks and send warm thoughts to you guys still dealing with winter.

Here's my two little ladies loving the Gulf.

It's all over the news that it's been a year since the oil spill. That made me realize it's been more than a year since I started blogging. One of my first conversations with Matt was about the oil spill.

This next shot is amazing.

An ancient shack on Alabama 181--on the road to the beach. The house appears a million years old and abandoned, but the roses are growing over the roof to this day.

That's the nice thing about this area. Everything grows forever here. Except tulips. My grandmother always wanted to grow tulips, but no dice.

I threw in one of the farmlands between my house and the beach next. Baldwin County used to be predominantly farms. I interview natives all the time who talk about working in the fields as teens, picking vegetables, working at the produce stands, etc., for summer jobs.

In the 1990s it became more profitable to sell the land to developers, and it looked like the farms were on the way out. Then in 2009, all the developers went belly-up, and now it's more profitable to farm.

I have to confess. I'm glad the farms are back.

These next two are waterways. Wolf Bay Watershed, Fish River, Weeks Bay Watershed, the Magnolia River, and more crisscross the drive to the beach.

First is the Magnolia River. There's this old pirate-type sailboat (right) always docked there. You have to look closely. Next is the overpass at Weeks Bay. It looks out to the Gulf.

But for me, it's all about the beach. So I'll leave you with two more beach shots.

One's a beautiful house right on the Gulf wedged between the high rises.

The other's just one of Orange Beach. One of my favorite places in the world.


Wish you were here!

Have a great spring break, reader-friends! Happy Easter! Til Monday~ <3

When several things happen at once

Friday was an odd day. I'd finished the first draft of WIP3 the night before and I remember telling a few of you that I was feeling many things... excited, euphoric, exhausted, a little nauseous.

No worries! Knock out a few paying gigs and rest. Right?

Wow. Then out of nowhere Dream-come-true Agency replies that they liked BNN and would I please make a million changes? And if I did, they'd be happy to look at it again.

Can I just say, that's such a surreal place to be.

On the one hand, they're basically saying what you sent wasn't so great. But on the other hand, it's a bit like a sneaky vote of confidence... the whole "we think you just might be able to pull it off anyway."

I totally had a moment.

Suddenly it was all very real... and naturally, I went under the desk. Did that just happen? And can I pull this off? Me? Some little no-name girl from south Louisiana who likes to daydream? (I mean, that's who I am in my head, right?)

In other news, I agreed to be the photographer for our local magazine (in which I'm traditionally a writer) and take some shots at the Bon Jovi concert. They were here as a part of those free "Concerts for the Coast" to attract tourists back to the beach.

You see, the oil spill did more than damage the Gulf. It almost finished off what the recession started in the economy of south Baldwin County. Many more people lost their jobs, one local fisherman took his life...

While I was there, I looked at these guys who've been entertaining crowds of 30K+ off and on since they were in their 20s and I wondered what kind of surreal moments they had.

I was also there with a mob of friends who had no clue what was buzzing around in my little pea-brain, and who as far as I knew, weren't thinking about the world of book publishing. We had a great time.

At one point in the night, I looked down at the cuff of my jeans and I noticed it was filled with the soft white sand this place is famous for. As I looked at it, I remembered a time in my life when I thought the greatest thing in the world would be to live at the beach.

That made me smile. And right then I wished I could push all 35K of those nice people away and just sit down and stare out at the water for a while. That always helps me put things in perspective.

Big thanks to my bleeps and crit partners I leaned on Friday. I hope you know you can always lean right back if you need to. Looks like I've got some work to do. Til Thursday~ <3

Summer Sharing - Music

The girls are back, school's out, and today starts VBS week with me teaching kindergarten. Naturally, I've got this amazing idea for a new book... !

For my non-local readers, it's been dark days since our last check-in. On Friday, Day 45 since the explosion, oil washed up on our beaches.

Along with it came the smell of paint, disinfectent and hot tar. And the pictures of oil-soaked pelicans, the stories of dead dolphins and sea turtles, and the destruction of underwater habitats.

Today is #48, and the oil continues to flow at a rate of 5,000 barrels per day. Now they're talking about the extermination of sperm whales and other endangered species...

This isn't a political blog, but I find I've taken a side on drilling in the Gulf. Care to guess which it is?

On a more positive note, there's a new, fashionable way to support local wildlife relief efforts: Fleurtygirl.net has created a supercute "Rescue Me" T-shirt, and all proceeds go to saving the Gulf marine life. Here's the link--scoot yourself over there and buy one now! They also come in kids' sizes.

The National Wildlife Federation has also set up a site for talking to kids about the oil spill. Click here for that page. To report oiled wildlife, call (866) 557-1401; to request volunteer info., call (866) 448-5816.

This is in addition to the links I put at the end of my May 27 post, "Oh, Black Water."

And on a quest for "lighten the mood" music, I found a podcast on iTunes called "St Tropez Beach House" that has great, free dance mixes.

I feel this must be wrong, but it is so good.

Go there and dowload Rihanna's "Please Don't Stop the Music" and shake that pain away. It's summer sharing, music edition. What's your favorite lose the blues tune?

A big Thank You to everyone who recommended books last Thursday! Anybody seeking escape via literature (recommended by cool people who read this blog), check out the comments section of that post.

I can't wait to get my hands on some makeup-wearing bullfighters, kudzu queens and guernsey literary and potato peel societies.

I also revisited Prodigal Summer by B. Kingsolver over the weekend, and I still like it very much. I also still can't quite say why--and I didn't recall it being so sexy-sexy--however... :o) JRM has announced he'll read it next.

LTM: It's very... earthy.
JRM: All her books are earthy.
LTM: Yes, but this one's very earthy....

I'll leave you with this memory. Our Gulf, Oct. 2009. "Just another day in paradise" we used to say.

sigh~

Oh Black Water

My sister-in-law and I were talking about 24-hour news channels. Specifically how they just make people feel Bad.

All that nonstop hearing about problems or situations you can't control... it makes viewers feel helpless and ultimately depressed, we agreed.

Later, I was thinking how after a while it also makes people (like me) stop watching altogether, and serious situations go ignored.

With that in mind... I got a call from my brother in Key West Saturday. The tar balls from the (still going) oil spill had arrived, and he was distraught.

TGT: The coral reef! The mangroves! The whales--they're filter-feeders... 200,000 gallons of oil a day! For five weeks! Do you realize what this means? Do you realize the level of destruction?
LTM: (quietly) I realize. (internally) Welcome to the party.

I took the girls to Pensacola Beach that first Saturday after the explosion. We hopped over the state line and in 30 minutes were passing the big neon fish welcoming us to the "world's whitest beaches." I got a little misty wondering how much longer that'd be true.

It wasn't the best day for playing in the Gulf. The winds were high and the double red flags were out. Still the girls ran in and out of the surf for a good hour or so before a lifeguard came over and squatted beside me.

He'd been watching us all morning, and he was very apologetic for being about to kick them out of the water. He explained that they'd already had two rescues that day and his boss had just called and said to get everybody out.

I smiled and said I understood. The breakers really were too rough for them to be playing in, and it looked like it might start raining any second. Then for a moment we watched my little ladies laughing and squealing and riding their tubes on the surfable waves.

I think we were both thinking the same thing. The clock is ticking. And if what the experts are saying actually happens, they could be tweens before the water's safe enough for them to do it again. If ever.

Richard and I drove to P'cola a few times the summer after Hurricane Ivan hit. It was scary to see the miles of open white sands where once stood massive condos or little villages of rental houses.

But even after that disaster, you could still park the car and get out and those glimmering white sands and turquoise waters told you it was going to be OK. Nobody could stay away from this for too long.

Those blue waters gave us hope. They were a beautiful gift we all shared.

Now it's in jeopardy. And we all feel so helpless.

Bottlenose dolphins are another happy fixture along our coast. They can be seen playing a few yards from the shoreline on any given day.

One June I was holding six month-old Laura in the Gulf off Pensacola Beach. The water was a glassy pool, and as we bobbed along, a spout surfaced less than five yards from us.

LTM: I know dolphins are the "dogs of the sea," but I'll just be getting out now...

The paper last week showed an aerial shot of the waters near Destin. In them you could see a flock of rays and you could even count seven manatees all swimming west on their usual migratory route. The cutline read, "Swimming into danger." My heart broke.

The Gulf might be our gift, but it's their home.

There's a Facebook page listing ways you can help with the Oil Spill. Here's the link.  There's also a local blog for kids and teachers here. (It was created by a teacher at the Fairhope K-1 center.)

Since the disaster, locals have been stepping up (like they always do) ready to fight this thing and save our gift and the animals that live there. They make me so proud.

I hope viewers don't tune out. I hope if anything they'll think about what's happened and what it means going forward. The next time they hear someone carelessly chant, "Drill, baby, drill."

What to leave in, what to leave out

I was listening to a radio interview this morning with one of the survivors of the Deepwater Horizon oil rig explosion. It was the first story I'd heard that wasn't focused on the environmental nightmare that has us Gulf Coast residents so heartbroken (i.e., 5,000 barrels of oil still leaking into our oceans every day.).

This report was about the other heartbreak. A 23 year-old Texan who knew his job was dangerous, but who had just gotten married and was saving for a house. He told of 12-hour shifts and the magnificent sunrises and sunsets he saw. He told of that night, watching fire shoot 100 feet into the air and knowing at that moment he was going to die.

He didn't, though. And as I listened to him, I thought how radio really is unique in that the stories are so powerful heard alone, in a car. I sometimes listen to This American Life, and Ira Glass (the host) once said he edits his pieces with that in mind.

When I started my master's degree at LSU, I wanted to work in book publishing. I wanted to be an editor or some behind the scenes type of person. (Back then I didn't believe I could write a whole book.) I even had the brilliant idea I'd get a job at LSU Press so I wouldn't have to leave Baton Rouge.

Problem: the Manship School of Mass Communication had no course of study for book publishing. They had all the traditional journalism curricula, but my graduate advisor explained there just wasn't a lot of interest in that area.

They did offer one course "The Business of Book Publishing" taught by Katherine Fry, who was executive director or something at LSU Press, and that was it. No more courses.

Still, since I was a good student and a good writer, Dr. Nelson said I could take the basic required courses and then take whatever else interested me. And we'd figure out how to focus my thesis on the book biz.

So I took a course in film and video editing. It was amazingly fun, and the next semester, Dr. Nelson suggested I do an internship at WAFB-9 news, the CBS affiliate in Baton Rouge.

That was possibly the most fun course I ever took in college.

My first day in the newsroom was the Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., holiday. Schools were closed, so I didn't really have to go in, but I did because I'm a nerd.

I was also nervous. I was a nervous nerd, and I had no idea what to expect going into a newsroom filled with all those local celebrities I'd been watching since childhood. I just knew I'd be single-handedly responsible for blowing Phil Ranier's Health Report or knocking over the teleprompter during Donna Britt's breaking news story.

As it turned out, my job was to sit behind a desk, answer the phones, open the mail, and give my "boss" assignments editor Mark Lambert whatever looked good.

LTM: And I know what's "good" because...
ML: You're smart. You'll know.
LTM: (weak smile; sick feeling in stomach)

So there we were, all the morning news people who'd been at the station since 4 a.m. were clearing out, making jokes, going home, ignoring me sitting behind the news desk feeling overwhelmed.

No kidding, five minutes later all four police, fire, EMS and sheriff's radio scanners started going off at once.

Mark ran to the desk, cranked the volumes and stared at me: "What did they just say? What was the code?"

LTM: (panic) Code??? (Those boxes are doing more than just emitting shrieking noises that I can only assume are communications from the aliens???)

Turned out the code was a 10-71. Shots fired. I think they might've also issued a 10-99, which is officer in trouble or something. On the list behind the desk someone had scribbled "Hall butt" beside that one. I always wanted to correct it... should be "haul" ...

There had been a shooting at the MLKJ parade just blocks from our newsroom. Four little girls were shot in what turned out to be a domestic dispute. Shot celebrating the life of a man devoted to nonviolence.

Mark started punching buttons to see if he could get video from the camera on top of our building. At the same time, he got on the radio and started calling all the reporters to the station. The one morning anchor still there dropped her purse and grabbed a camera guy.

In the space of ten minutes, the newsroom was packed. Every talking head I'd been watching since I was a little kid was there. And all the backups. The phones behind the news desk (read, the ones I was supposed to answer) never stopped ringing.

I got calls from all the affiliates. I got calls from CBS news in New York, I got calls from the BBC in London... They wanted the facts, they wanted satellite feeds, they wanted video. I didn't leave until 11 p.m. that night.

And that was my first day in television.

As we were all dragging out of the newsroom that night, I was suddenly a colleague. Everyone was very kind and said I did a great job. They made comments like "that was some first day."

LTM: It's not always like that? It is in the movies...
(Weary laughter) A.m. news crew: We'll be back in five hours. You?

That semester was really busy, and by the end I was going out on stories with reporters, even alone with camera guys shooting B-roll for which I wrote the scripts for the anchors to read.

I learned that when you're working on a broadcast piece, you always get more video than you need and then you sift through it to find the most powerful 30 seconds. The clips that are going to capture the heart of the story the best.

It can be hard at first to get it just right. It also gave me a revised appreciation for what I see on TV. Somebody's behind the curtain making those decisions. It could even be somebody like me.

At the end of that semester, I was hired as an assistant weekend producer. I even interviewed for a full-time reporter position in Lafayette, but I didn't take it. I loved TV news. It's fast and fun and you'll look up and 18 months have passed...

Still, radio stories like the one I heard this morning make me misty. Even if I know there's a person somewhere sifting through the B-roll to find the exact segments to make it happen.

Eleven men died on the Deepwater Horizon. Sixty more watched as their derrick burned and melted into the black Gulf waters taking their friends with it.

Even sombody as inexperienced as me would know how to tell that story. Here's the link if you'd like to hear it.

Author-Agent Match dot com

OK, so originally this post was going to be something about the oil spill.

I've been thinking about our beaches and growing up in south Louisiana, living on the Alabama Gulf Coast, having family in Mississippi, a brother in south Florida. We're all virtually joining hands in this crisis praying it can be resolved with as little damage as possible.

Then I got a form rejection on a query letter for Brand New Novel from an agent who, according to her stated interests, should've at least wanted to read a little more... It's OK, I wasn't that upset. (big lie)

I can say I was pleasantly surprised that after only a few test letters, I got a full MS request from an extremely nice and reputable agent I interacted with on Debut Novel. (whee!) She seems like a neat person to work with. I'll keep you posted as that unfolds.

So since it all comes back to the books, I was thinking about how the agent search is a lot like using Match dot com to find a date/potential mate. (Never used MDC, but I'm betting it is...)

I read somewhere a caution to writers to approach selecting an agent even more carefully than you would your husband/wife. That seems a little extreme, but I get it. This person is going to have a huge role in my career path, and as most agent-author relationships involve contracts, there's a similarity.

So here's how it works (and those of you who've used MDC, see what you think):

The search is 98 percent online now--almost everybody's wanting to be green, and it sure saves on postage, so I'm all for it. You set out, aspiring novelist, finished novel in hand (teeth brushed, coolest outfit), and you head over to Query Tracker to set up your dbase/do a search for agents seeking your genre.

QT has links to agency websites and agent email addresses--even a comments section from queriers as to how fast they respond or if they do.

I'm sure this is some Big Brother means of tracking the habits of aspiring novelists and plotting trends in the industry, but I Don't Care. The fellas who designed and maintain QT (which is free, btw) are Heroes.

The list is made (profiles matched), so you pick about seven you'd like to ask on a date (i.e., send a query).

Pause.

I once read a long blog post about how a bad agent's worse than no agent at all--possiblly worse than never being published. (gasp!) I can't remember where that was or I'd give you a link.

So how do you know if this person you're about to ask out/possibly marry's crazy or not? What if you get an offer from the literary agent equivalent of Glen Close in Fatal Attraction?

Run over to Absolute Write Watercooler for the skinny. It's an online forum of writers who post about agent behaviors. Sometimes agents even drop in for interviews or to update threads about themselves. It's basically like your group of girlfriends, although I feel like the total guy in this scenario.

You can also Google the agent's name to see if he/she has a blog or has been interviewed recently by many of the helpful agent-interview blogs out there (e.g., Guide to Literary Agents, Literary Rambles, etc.)

For me, even after all this homework, it's been very hit or miss.

I've gotten several form rejections from agents who specifically state they're seeking what my novel is. I've gotten several partial requests from the same. And the I've gotten full requests (the home run) from agents both specifically seeking it and from some I've queried because I liked books they handled or their agency, regardless of whether they were specifically seeking what I'd written.

I've gotten the no call the day after treatment. I've gotten the surprise positive follow-up from the date you didn't think went so well...

And then I discovered Agents on Twitter. Can I just say, following AOT is a big mistake.

I know it helps us keep track of them 24/7, but when they start tweeting about queries, it's a lot like being the guy who overhears the group of girls discussing a bad date when you've just gone out with one of them.

They never tweet the name of offending querier, but you just KNOW they're talking about you.

Or then you have the agent who tweets that she just had the most amazing cookie at some NYC bakery while hanging with the Shark (Janet Reid), and you're thinking, "Why are you hanging out with the Shark eating cookies and not reading my partial???"

The best are the tweets from the agent who's so disappointed because she never gets the MS she really, really wants. Or the one who proposed to an author who'd already gotten married. But based simply on a query, not on reading the full...

Naturally, I hopped over to her profile to see if I should ask her out! I discovered she's seeking exactly what DN is! I tentatively send her a "Would you like to go out with me?" query and get back the insta-slap. The "Dear Author..." form reject.

LTM: (Puzzled frown, rubbing cheek) I guess she was still in mourning...

They should start using "John" instead of "Author" in those. Just to inject a little humor.

If all this sounds bitter, I've failed. It's totally not meant to. I'm actually extremely optimistic, and I've gotten super feedback on Brand New Novel.

The agent search is frustrating, but I still think it's way better than sending my MS off to the slushpile of four major publishing houses and hoping for the best. And I very much appreciate the fast-responding agents, positive or negative.

It's just the entire process brings to mind that Fountains of Wayne song "Someone to Love." (You knew there'd be a musical tie-in.)

I'm Seth. Agent Seeking Exactly What BNN Is, But Who Sends "Dear Author" Form Reject To My Query can play the role of Beth. Pay careful attention to the taxi interaction... Here's the link to the song.

Onward and upward, reader friends! Oh, and some Happy Mother's Day recipes (my contribution is #3).