…I've been writing a lot of poetry lately. Reading Bukowski does that to me. Like all my favorite authors, he makes me want to write. I come up with most of my best poems in the bathtub. Actually it's a jakuzi. Whoever invented the jakuzi should win a Nobel Prize. It's even fun to say the word jakuzi. Try it.
Anyway, I am a tub guy. I love it. Suds, a book, and a glass of wine is the perfect set up for me. Since I have been stuck in poetry mode, I've lost traction on my new novel. They (people from NaNoWriMo) still send daily updates, encouragments and inspirations. Some are effective and impressive. Like this one from John Green. (I was pretty surprised it was "thee" John Green. He's sort of big time, a very successful teen and Y.A. novelist, having written one of my favorite books, "An Abundance of Katherines" which someone should hurry up and make a movie of.)
Here's John…


Dear NaNoWriMo Author,

Way down deep in the dark archives of my hard drive, I have a folder called Follies, which contains an impressive collection of abandoned stories: There's the zombie apocalypse novel about corn genetics, the sequel, the one about the Kuwaiti American bowling prodigy, the desert island novel, and many more. These stories have only one thing in common: They're all about 25,000 words.
Why do I quit halfway in? I get tired. It's not fun anymore. The story kind of sucks, and it's hard to sit down every day and spend several hours eating from a giant bowl of suck. And most of all, like the kid who spends hours preparing plastic armies for war, I enjoy setting things up more than I enjoy the battle itself. To finish something is to be disappointed. By definition, abandoned novels are more promising than completed ones.
You have likely reached the moment in this insane endeavor when you need a rock-solid answer to the question of why, precisely, you are trying to write a novel in a month. You have likely realized that your novel is not very good, at least not yet, and that finishing it will be a hell of a lot less fun than starting it was.
So quit. Quit now, or if you're among the many of us who've already quit, stay quit. Look, we are all going to die. The whole species will cease to exist at some point, and there will be no one left to remember that any of us ever did anything: Our creations, all of them, will crumble, and the entire experiment of human consciousness will be filed away, unread, in the Follies folder of the great interstellar hard drive. So why write another word?
Sorry. I reached the halfway point of this pep talk and tumbled, as one does, into inconsolable despair.
Here's my answer to the very real existential crisis that grips me midway through everything I've ever tried to do: I think stories help us fight the nihilistic urges that constantly threaten to consume us.
At this point, you've probably realized that it's nearly impossible to write a good book in a month. I've been at this a while and have yet to write a book in less than three years. All of us harbor secret hopes that a magnificent novel will tumble out of the sky and appear on our screens, but almost universally, writing is hard, slow, and totally unglamorous. So why finish what you've started? Because in two weeks, when you are done, you will be grateful for the experience. Also, you will have learned a lot about writing and humanness and the inestimable value of tilting at windmills.
Something else about my Follies folder: It contains the final drafts of my novels Looking for Alaska, An Abundance of Katherines, and Paper Towns. They are follies, too—finished ones. Whether you're reading or writing, there is nothing magical about how you get from the middle of a book to the end of one. As Robert Frost put it, “The only way out is through.”
So here's the pep part of my pep talk: Go spit in the face of our inevitable obsolescence and finish your @#$&ng novel.
Best wishes,
John Green
John Green is the New York Times bestselling author of Looking for Alaska, An Abundance of Katherines, and Paper Towns.

…I have a new poem, "I Can't Get the Smell of You Out of My Skin" up at Calliope Nerve and here under "Words In Print."

…It's raining slogs of gunmetal gray walls. The sound of it, like a million tapping toes, is rhythmic and soothing. If I'm not careful, I very well could fall into a trance, slap my head down on the keyboard and get the upraised letters (my keyboard is ergnomic) g h t y b imprinted on my forehead and face, and then relatives and strangers would wonder what message I was trying to impart with my weird tattoo. It could happen.
The deluge is picking up even as I write this. There's a sense of urgency to it. "Get out of my way.." Stiff arm to the face. "I'm in a hurry." All that frantic pitter patter code is trying to tell me something, or not. If you follow a certain swath of rainfall you'll see that it has a fog shadow behind it, a wispy sheet of cold air, flapping like laundry on a windy day.

…Sometimes I get sidetracked when I look out my window. Especially if it's raining. But then, you knew that.

…I'm out of the running for the NaNoWriMo competition. No way I'll get to 50,000 words in a month. Instead, I'm shooting for 75,000 in two months. I'll call my competition LoNoDeWriMoze or Local November-December Writing Months. I'll be the only one who knows about it. I kind of like the sound of that moniker -- LoNo-DeWriMoze. Not sure what language it resembles, but it's fun to say and would likely be even more enjoyable to say if one was a little sloshed.

…I don't know why, but I try to do too much sometimes. I like pressure because it makes me perform, but it can lead one to defeat and a sad sense of failure.
Here, I'll share some of my 2010 Resolutions with you:
1.) Write and complete an edited novel (Check. I'm actually 20% through the second novel.)
2.) Get 100th story published by year end (Check. I'm at 224 stories/poems accepted through yesterday.)
3.) Run a marathon (Check. I ran Cleveland in May and now I'm doing another, Tuscon, next month.)
4.) Read 100 books (I'm at 80 with five almost finished.)
Do you see a pattern? I set what's a pretty lofty goal, meet it, and then tack on an even loftier goal. I'm just never satisfied. That must be some kind of disorder.
Unaccomplished 2010 resolutions are these:
1.) Get an agent for my novel .
2.) Run a marathon with a time fast enough to qualif for Boston
(I was going to add "Learn guitar" again, but I suck and it's just another time-sucker.)
It's nice to be busy, but maybe it's better to achieve all of one's goals. I don't know--what do you think?

…I just ordered xTx's chapbook, "He Is Talking To The Fat Lady." That's a good title. She is good with titles. I wish I was. Her last chapbook was called, "Nobody Trusts A Black Magician." Clever, huh? xTx is one of my favorite writers. You can find her here under "Writers To Watch."

…I like these:
"It was on my fifth birthday that Papa put his hand on my shoulder and said, 'Remember, my son, if you ever need a helping hand, you'll find one at the end of your arm." -- Sam Levinson
"Tip the world over on its side and everything loose will land in Los Angeles" -- Frank Lloyd Wright

…I have a new story, "Bad Connection" up at 52/250 A Year of Flash, and also a poem, "Bukowski and Carver" at Calliope Nerve. Both are also here under "Words in Print."

…I've said how much I like Charles Bukowski. I'm currently reading his collection, "Love is a Dog From Hell" how's that for a title?) It's kind of a coincidence to be reading him and have a poem I wrote about him published in the same day. If he were alive, I doubt he'd be impressed.

Anyway, here's a poem of his--excerpted because it's long and also profane--that I really like. Enjoy:

"how to become a writer"

…if you have the ability to love
love yourself first
but always be aware of the possibility of
total defeat
whether the reason for that defeat
seems right or wrong--

an early taste of death is not necessarily
a bad thing…

get a large typewriter
and as the footsteps go up and down
outside your window

hit that thing
hit it hard

make it a heavyweight fight

make it the bull when he first charges in

and remember the old dogs who fought so well:
Hemingway, Celine, Dostoevsky, Hamsun.

if you think they didn't go crazy
in tiny rooms
just lik you're doing now

without women
without food
without hope

then you're not ready.

drink more beer.
there's time.
and if there's not
that's all right
too.

…I have two pretty creepy stories, "Quilting" and "The Cost of Quitting" up at MicroHorror and also here under "Words in Print." My very first two stories were published by MicroHorror back in May of 2009. The publishing of these two stories brings my total since then to 218.

…About the two stories... People who've read them, people who know me physically and not just virutally, have said that not only do the stories scare them but me having written the pieces scares them. People don't say that to Stephen King, do they? I doubt it. Where do the stories we write come from? Who knows. Or maybe; it's different for each writer. Yes, sure, it has to be different. Sometimes a word or phrase or picture, a smell or sound or memory fragment will trigger something that makes me need to put it in print. It doesn't necessarily mean I've lived that experience or want to. If all serial killer novels were only written by actual serial killers, the planet would be one big slaughter house.

I admit that it's easier for me to write dark things. Do I have dark places? Of course. More than most people? Maybe, probably, but if you pry my jaws wide and are brave enough to look down my throat past my gullet to my soul, it wouldn't be complete blackness. There'd be patches of light, some of it sunny, walk-in-the-park radiance, even, not all, but some. Lots. About the same as in you.

My new novel is happy and funny (or so I think.) There isn't much darkness in it. Well, a little. This is the thing I'm writing for NaNoWriMo i.e., "Write a 50,000 page novel in the Month of November." I am massively behind as it requires an average of 1,700 words a day to keep pace. I will attempt to catch up as soon as I sign off from here, and then all day tomorrow. Already, however, it reminds me of those times when I've been in a (literal) marathon and start slipping off my race pace a few seconds on mile 12, then mile 13, etc., to the point I can't ever get it back. The good news, though, is even if I don't catch up to my word count, I'll still just about have the novel finished, which is better than if I'd not done NaNoWriMo in the first place.

…I no longer have a full-time job. I read about people like Matt Bell and CL Bledsoe and Roxane Gay who all teach, yet blog and do readings and run literary magazines, write reviews, read reviews, share reviews, write oodles of flash fiction or poetry and read every book and still write novels and I admire them immensly, but I am also jealous and envious. I have no excuse. I have other things I do that eat up my time, but I do not have that one big elephant called a career.

…Switching gears without the clutch…In the mail today, from my favorite place on the planet, I received the following
music:
Florence and the Machine
Of Montreal
The Cinematic Orchestra
and books:
"Miracle Boy," by Pinckney Benedict
and "Lean on Pete," by Willy Vlautin

I love Willy Vlautin. His "Motel Life" is one of my favorite books. Read it, and it will be yours as well.

…I like these two quotes:
"Every story is a war." Richard Bausch
"Every book ever written started out as a flawed first draft." (Can't remember where I read that.)

…I have a new story, "Birthmark" up at 52/250 A Year of Flash and a poem, "Illustrated" at The Camel Saloon. Both are also here under "Words in Print.

…I am sore. My bones are sore, my skin is sore. Even my hair hurts. I ran 19 miles in the rain. I rather enjoy running I the rain but the problem on wet long runs is it's easy to chafe, because your soaked clothes drag across you like a rag wiping the counter, one rough swipe for each stride. I don't know how many steps there are in a mile let alone 19 miles, but let's just say I now look like I have leprosy and it was painful to take a shower--the water felt like steel wool. Yowzah. Why do I do it--run such long distances? What am I running from? Heck, if I know.

..I sure like Charles Bukowski. He looked like a cuss, a mangy old buzzard, but I love his poetry. He was incredibly prolific. Some of his pieces are stunning while others should never have been put in print. He likes to write about prostitutes and booze and betting the horses. I wish I knew him when he was alive.

...I found this article on tips for pitching an agent. I went to pitching sessions in July a the Pacific Northwest Writers Conference. This would have helped, had I seen it ahead of time. Enjoy:

...Miriam Kriss is an agent with the Irene Goodman Literary Agency representing commercial fiction and she represents everything from hardcover historical mysteries to all subgenres of romance, from young adult fiction to kick ass urban fantasies, and everything in between.


I go to a lot of writers’ conferences and the highlight of many of them for both myself and the aspiring authors who attend them is the agent pitch sessions. The format of these appointments varies from conference to conference. Sometimes they’re five- to ten-minute meetings between an agent and an aspiring writer, other times they’re speed dating style mini encounters. Still other conferences go with a group pitch model where a group of writers sit down all at once with an agent.

Whatever the format these are opportunities for writers to not only convey their excitement about their project to an industry professional but to also get some sense of who the agent is and if they would like to work with them. Often attendees put a great deal of pressure on themselves for these meetings and feel the whole of their future careers depend on this short encounter. I wanted to give some tips about what agents look for in a pitch to let you feel more prepared the next time you sit down across from your dream agent.


1. Know Thy Genre (or Sub-Genre)

I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve sat down to with someone and asked them what they write, only to be faced with confusion. Knowing where your book would live in the bookstore is crucial to making sure the agent can evaluate it properly. Even if you’re writing something that has elements from several genres, it’s important to understand it can only be shelved in one place when in the bookstore, so you need to determine who your audience is and make that clear from the beginning of your pitch.

2. Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff

This isn’t the moment to go into every intricate plot point. Rather, think of your pitch in terms of cover copy. What’s your log line? A logline, or one sentence pitch, is a phrase borrowed from Hollywood, where as Mamet’s character Charlie Fox said in Speed the Plow, “You can't tell it to me in one sentence, they can't put it in TV Guide." This is the intrinsic hook that will make people want to pick up your book. A common mistake I see is for people to try to use that one sentence to sum up every aspect of their story and then get frustrated when it doesn’t. This isn’t meant to be a synopsis of your plot, rather it’s bait to make people want to read it. Likewise, the body of your pitch should be more like back cover copy than a synopsis, meant to give the high points of the story, not a blow by blow account. Overall, remember, you know this story inside and out, after all you wrote it, so don’t be afraid to just talk about it, rather than feeling you have to keep to a scripted pitch.

3. Seize the Pitch Session

This is your moment. You paid for it and it’s yours. So after you’ve pitched and the agent has decided whether they want you to send them something or not, if your appointment time isn’t up you should feel free to ask questions about the market, the industry or the specific agency. Think of it as a one on one agent panel. Bringing a short list of questions in with you in case you have time to ask them can be helpful. And in a group pitch remember, if you have that question, odds are someone else in the group was wondering the same thing.

4. Follow Through

If the agent gives you specific instructions on how he or she want to get your material be scrupulous in following them. This is hard to do if you’ve completely forgotten what they were. I recommend that people write down what the agent wants and how he or she wants it because it’s easy in the excitement of the request to think you’ll remember, and then forget a small detail of it when you get home and sit down to send it out.

5. Breathe

People often come into these meetings very nervous, and I want to assure you really don’t need to be. This one meeting will not make or break your career, promise. It’s an opportunity to not only pitch your book but also get honest feed back from an industry professional. Keep in mind that agents come into a pitch session wanting to hear something fabulous and we’re looking to fall in love. Hopefully it will be with your story, but whether it is or isn’t, how you pitch will never be as important as what you put on the page.


And remember: If you're looking for a professional manuscript critique for a good cause, go to irenegoodman.com for more details.

…I am struggling with NanoWriMo i.e., write a novel in a month. I'm behind. I need to keep my behind in a chair. I need to write. Fiendishly. Today, to catch up, I need to crank out 6,100 words. I think I can do that. I will do it. I will listen to Nike.

…I am reading Ned Vizzin's first YA/teen book, "Be More Chill." Ned is funny and clever. In this book, he writes about sex quite a bit. It seems like a cheap trick to use sex to keep an audience interested, but I like Ned nevertheless.

…More rules for men from Esquire magazine, in no particular order:
--Rule # 750 - The fist bump only if you're about to spar.
--Rule # 751 - The high five only if you just scored. In sports
--Rule # 752 - If somone looks as though he might be on steroids, he's on steroids.
--Rule # 753 - Skinny jeans only if you're skinny.
--Rule # 754 - The larger the beard, the gentler the man.
--Rule # 757 - A blazer with no shirt is never appropriate. Unless you're involved in some sort of exotic magic act.
--Rule # 758 - In which case the blazer should be sequined.
--Rule # 759 - No Magic
--Rule # 864 - A message delivered in person is 3.4 times more effective than an email.
--Rule # 868 - Rarely postpone a meeting.
--Rule # 869 - Never cancel.

...I have a new story, "A Man and His Train" up at Troubadour 21 and here under "Words in Print." The story is a fable. Fables are often hard sells with editors, but I like them if they're smart and twisty. I think we can learn a lot from well written fables and parables.

...I just started reading, "Be More Chill" by Ned Vizzini. It's a Y.A. and teen novel by the guy that wrote, "It's Kind of a Funny Story." I also got Tara Masih's collection, "Where the Dog Star Never Glows" and Matt Bell's new collection.

...I started the new novel yesterday. I did not get very far. I am behind the game already, quite far behind. I'm not worried, though. After writing my other novel this year, a small 50,000 word book isn't quite as intimidating. Of course, that may change once we slide into week two.

...The new bruno mars cd is so catchy. close to cheesy, but catchy.

...I run. I run a lot. I have a marathon next month. I think there are a lot of lessons to be learned from long distance running. There are all kinds of parallels between marathoning and most tests of diligence, including noveling. Here's an excerpt from "Runner's World" about marathon racing specifically as it relates to those god-awful, final six-point-two miles. It's quite good:
"Why go through it all again? Because what lies between mile 20 and the finish line is the answer to that question asked by nonmarathoning spouses and friends: 'If it hurts so much, why do you do it?' I've never found the answer, so I keep running that final stretch with my eyes on the ground looking for it.
What I have found is that the last six miles separate distance runners from those who are merely obsessive or have a high tolerance for boredom. They are the crucible from which come molten, freshly recast marathoners, and each one of those miles is a distinct trial to conquer, and reason to train, and reason to boast, and as such, in truth, I love them, because though you'll never know exactly why you do them, it's over those last six miles that you finally find out if you can.
I'll tell you something, though: the last .2 miles is a killer." -- Peter Sagal

"The final third of most runs and workouts count the most. The first two-thirds gets you tired so you can work harder from there." -- Brett Gotcher, marathon racer