Sunday, March 11, 2007

So it's Time to Market My Manuscript



If you are a reg blog reader, then you know that I sent out a bunch of queries last month asking if some of my fave literary agents would be interested in taking a look at my book. Well freakin' THUD, man! I got hits from most of the agencies I sent out to, save for two. Good grief. But thankfully, two of them were the highest on my "I want THAT agent" list, soooooo...it's all good.

Bad part is my idea that YA books are immune to the dread synopsis....is so not true. Three of the agencies asked for one. Another asked for a detailed synopsis, which I took from my outline. So, I spent the last five days agonizing over a three-page summary of my book. It wouldn't have been simpler if I could have gotten away with a dry summary, but all advice was--make sure it maintains your author's voice and your entire story arc. In three pages or less. Dude, it can take me that to say "it was raining. And my author's voice? Can't I just do three pages of expletives expressing how bad writing an effin' synosis sucks? ::Big sigh::: Guess not. So, this is what I've been doing for the last seven days (between wiping up barf....youngest boy got the most heinous barf bug known to mankind--we did two trips to the ER for IV's and....I swear I haven't slept more than three hours a night this week....)

So, here goes. My synopsis....save for a minor smooth and polish before I hit "send" tomorrow.

SYNOPSIS
It's (so not) A Barbie World
A YA paranormal novel of 62,000 words

High school? Ugh. Pink Drama? Forget about it. Katya can't understand
how her dream to become an opera singer will ruin her (already trashed)
grade point average and destroy her (absent) social life. It's not
like she wants to become a brain surgeon, or (barf) a cheerleader.

"Be careful what you scoff at," KATYA's dad warns. "It might just
become a force to contend with." Now he's suggesting that Katya's
afraid to try and keep up with the elite crowd. Puh-leez.

All Katya wants is to score an audition to Juilliard and make her
escape from the mind numbing cheer mom enclave of Harmony Acres.
Should she score some suck-face time with her gothalicious audition
partner, TRISTAN, in the process? Bonus!

Keeping your head beneath the mean girl radar isn't that easy when
you have a learning disability. Katya lays low by posing (gasp) Goth
with her best friend, GERT, and the wildly eccentric cling-on boy,
SIGGY HAINES.

Shunning all things pink becomes easier said than done when the
mysterious CANDY DEMINT comes to town hawking BEAUTOXIA COSMETICS.
When she performs a beyond-extreme makeover on Siggy's estranged mom,
all the women of Harmony Acres start going toxic. Beautoxic.

Katya is convinced whatever is sweeping her town isn't in the water.
She suspects the real culprit lurks inside the new Beautoxia
Cosmetics factory. Even Gert is trippin' on lipstick. Come Monday,
the girl has morphed into TRUDY, a veritable pink princess who has
one goal in life—spreading the news about Beautoxia to anyone who
will listen.

Now there's a new breed of pinks at Harmony High. Like the A-list,
squared. Beautoxics. Led by Candy's daughter, Niko, these girls
have killin' powers of persuasion. Save for the Goths and the short
bus scene, social castes are dropping like dominoes.

In spite of the fact that the Beautoxics have sucked in Katya's best
friend, her dad, and her (almost) boyfriend, she resolves that a
perfect face and a wicked hot wardrobe won't sway her from her dreams
of attending Juilliard.

When Trudy/Gert's usefulness as Beautoxia's guinea pig is over, NIKO
chews the girl up and spits her out like yesterday's chewing gum.
The way KATYA sees it, now, more than ever is the time for herself
and her friends to bury their heads. She plans to go on perfecting
her operatic range so she can get herself to Juilliard's last
summer session audition of the season. Then she can get out of town—
for good.

Or not.

Beautoxia is launching a viral My Space campaign that will take their
product nationwide. When Katya's mom sees what Beautoxia did to Gert,
she promises to "poke around" and see what she can find out about
Candy. By the day's end, she's become the victim of a drive-by
makeover. She has suffered an allergic reaction to Beautoxia that
has left her convinced that she's BARBIE, incarnate. Certain that
Katya's love life is in dire need of a pink overhaul, Barbie sets out
to see her daughter crowned Queen of the Prom. Or else.

Katya, Gert and Siggy realize that alone they can accomplish little.
They must pool their talents to overcome their individual
weaknesses. Together they devise a plan that should open up a can of
internet whoop-ass on some Beautoxic butt before anyone else gets
hurt.

Problem is, in order to get their hands on the proof that can
circumvent Beautoxia's My Space campaign, Katya must pose (gag)
Beautoxic to appease Barbie and Siggy and Gert get a sample of the
formula out of town to be analyzed.

In the process of faking it, Katya nearly becomes charmed by
everything she never wanted to be. Tristan is certainly smitten with the new
Katya. Only when SIGGY and GERT step forward to remind her of what she's fighting for
does Katya regain the focus that helps her friends pull off their
plan. In the end, Barbie is gone and BEAUTOXIA's spell on Harmony
Acres is released.

Katya makes it to her audition still wearing her prom queen crown.
While her friends look on, she realizes how much they've overcome.
Facing her greatest fear has steered her dreams in new
directions—into places she never thought she'd go. While Katya
stands on stage singing with the boy she thought she always wanted,
she looks down from the stage to see her parents, Gert and Siggy beaming up at her.

She realizes that the Opera can wait. These are the only high school years
she'll ever have. Though she and Tristan win their early admission to
Juilliard, Katya finds that she wants nothing more in the world than
to spend time with her friends and perhaps even go on out a real date
with her unlikely knight in shining armor—Siggy.

Monday, March 05, 2007

A dead relative perhaps?

So, seems Barbie bashing isn't an *entirely* new sport. One of my dah-link compadres sent this to me--I'm told it was written in the fifties.

It's....well....gothalicious!

Barbie Doll
by Marge Piercy

This girl child was born as usual
and presented dolls that did pee-pee
and miniature GE stoves and irons
and wee lipsticks the color of cherry candy.
Then in the magic of puberty, a classmate said:
You have a great big nose and fat legs.

She was healthy, tested intelligent,
possessed strong arms and back,
abundant sexual drive and manual dexterity
She went to and fro apologizing.
Everyone saw a fat nose on thick legs.

She was advised to play coy,
exhorted to come on hearty,
exercise, diet, smile and wheedle,
Her good nature wore out like a fan belt.

So she cut off her nose and her legs
and offered them up.
In the casket displayed on satin she lay
with the undertaker’s cosmetics painted on,
a turned-up putty nose,
dressed in a pink and white nightie.
Doesn’t she look pretty? everyone said.
Consummation at last.
To every woman a happy ending.
__

May love always rule in your life,

Liane

Sunday, March 04, 2007

So, yeah, I suck....officially!

You scored as vampire goth.. your a vampire goth, go bite something and drink some blood. ;D

Romantic goth

70%

vampire goth.

70%

Fetish Goth

65%

goth geek

55%

Mopey goth.

55%

Pagan goth.

55%

Raver goth.

25%

Perky Goth

20%

What kind of goth are you?
created with QuizFarm.com

Oh. My. Goth.*

Becky, look at her dress.

It's like so pink.

She looks like Prince Charming's girlfriend.

It's so Disney.

That's right, girls. Disney's princesses--and their resplendent gowns--aren't just for the wee set any more. Now every girl , no matter what her age, can become her favorite Disney princess on her wedding day.

Disney has recently introduced a series of wedding dresses fashioned after their fictional cartoon heroines. In a recent Wall Street Journal interview, designer Kristie Kelly says Cinderella is "classic glamour," Snow White has "sweet elegance," Ariel from The Little Mermaid has a "sultry allure" and is "comfortable showing her body," and Jasmine from Aladdin is "bohemian chic."

Now, consider this tidbit. Word up's Barbie has a new management team. With this concept pushing Disney into national fashion news , could Barbie inspired outfits for grown ups be far behind?

Gag me with a hoop skirt.
______

btw, if you aren't the Barbie kind of girl, you wish black was the new pink, and you haven't read Oh My Goth by Gena Showalter, please do. It's wicked delish.

__

May love always rule in your life,

Liane

Thursday, March 01, 2007

A Little Writing Music, Please

'S Probably because I'm still so torn up by Anna's passing, that I've taken to working on Willo-the-Wisp again. I shudder to talk *out loud* about the book, because you see, it's my dream novel--that project that I can't bear to see tank. It's the secret, angsty lit/commerical project I keep hidden on my hard drive, far away from prying eyes. I work on it during those dark days when working on the lighter fare like Stoner and Girls Gone Dead just isn't working.

I wonder how many other writers have those types of books--the secret ones they don't share for fear of jinxing the magic that insired them?

The Fray's "How to Save a Life" has been the perfect song to get me in the zone where Willow's world comes to life. It's also the perfect song to help me sort out my feelings about Anna. Maybe the yearning to work on Willow's story, which I know will take away a bit of me before all is said and done, is all part of the same process of learning to let go. Something I've never been good at.


May love always rule in your life,

Liane

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Anna's Free Now

I've never blogged on the road before, so if the formatting is hinky, forgive me. I've gotten some calls and emails regarding Anna, who was the subject of my last post.

For those of you following her heart-wrenching struggle, Anna was declared brain dead last night. Life support was removed this morning, and she slipped away a few hours later as she would have wanted to--in peace and free of pain.

I'm going not to moralize or preach, and as Anna would want, I'm going to move on in the infectious spirit of kindness that she shared with the world--and would want celebrated in her absence.

On Anna's behalf, I do want to leave each of you with this thought:

Our daughters will only grow up in a Barbie World if we continue to let them.

Please hold Anna and her family in your thoughts and prayers.

May love always rule in your life.

Liane

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Barbie takes another victim

A writer should never begin a story to try to drive home a message. It doesn't work.

What's really frightening, though, is when something you wrote begins to feel prescient.

One of my characters in my book, Trudy, says something to the protagonist, Katya, which sums up today's (painful) post. "When did my choice to get pretty become a crime?"

In the context of the story, Trudy was right. Pretty is not a crime. Nor is the desire to become "all that we can be". The real crime is committed when attractive young women are encouraged by the people who love them in their quests toward an artificial standard of beauty.

I can't get my husband's best friend Pete* off my mind today--Pete, and his youngest daughter, Anna*.

Pete is a great Dad. Often, when I think of him, I begin to hum the song "Daddy's little girl". He's one of the dying breed of father who has erected his world around his love for his family. There is no boundary that Pete won't overcome to provide for his daughter's happiness.

So before you read further, understand, Pete wears his love for his daughter openly and without reservation. That loves defines him. He loves Anna as she came to him, and as far as I know, Pete has never encouraged her to become more than she is.

Like most young girls of her generation, Anna still yearned for *more*. Her Korean-American genes did not equip her with the DNA for large breasts. Pete's little girl found her flat chest ugly. She wanted to feel sexier. Prettier.

Anna already was. Pretty. Stunning, in fact.

Pete did not hesitate to help his little girl meet her dreams by funding her breast augmentation. He wanted to help his child to feel secure, happy, beautiful.

Yesterday, at the age of 19, Anna's dream of fuller breasts came to fruition...

This morning, Pete's little girl--the apple of his eye--lies in an ICU in a coma, while the tubes that keep her tied to this world protrude from every available orifice. Meanwhile her organ systems are systematically shutting down due to an adverse reaction to anesthesia. Anna's frail, beautiful body is in a race against time. Against death.

In spite of coming into this world looking like the proverbial china doll, petite and golden skinned with gleaming masses of black hair, Anna still felt she didn't measure up to the artificial standard which America uses to define beauty.

Anna was not a Barbie.

If you have a daughter, a wife, a friend, a woman who is considering plastic surgery, love her enough to drag her to stand in front of you right now. Tell her how beautiful she is. Then force her to look you in the eyes as you tell her that in this media saturated age of Photo-shopped images and surgically enhanced bodies, she may never hear about the already beautiful girls who have died in their yearning to measure up to that artificial ideal that their genetics never intended for them to be.

Tell her about Anna.

Remind her that Barbie is made of plastic and cosmetic surgery can kill.

Having experienced cosmetic surgery myself, during a time in my life when I was in no emotional state to make such life altering decisions, I can say for certain that nobody ever sat me down and asked my *why* I was taking such a risk with my life.

I was already pretty.

Nobody cared enough to ask me if I was alright inside of my head.

I wasn't.

Nobody ever considered telling me to get my papers in order and my ducks in a row, because this procedure could kill me. Sure, deep down, somewhere, I must have known that there was a risk--but at that point in my life, I'd have done anything to become one of *them*. And that yearning to look better--more perfect, more polished---more lovable---consumed my better judgement. I just wanted my straying husband to love me again.

I know how Pete's little girl felt when she asked her father for the funds to augment her breasts. She wanted the pain of not being one of *them* to go away...forever.

Its impossible to know whether the knowledge that Anna could die in her quest to become one of *them* would have chanted her fate. But if the worst should happen, and Anna should die, at least her father would have the peace of knowing that Anna not only knew the risks, and understoond them, but that she was prepared to accept them as her fate.

Pray for Anna. And then pray for Pete.

I don't know what will become of him without his princess.

*names have been changed for the protection of Pete and Anna's privacy

May love always rule in your life.

Liane