Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Post-party Pre-Conference Blues

I have this blues riff running through my brain....

I ain't got no agent
I ain't got no deal
Am I really a writer?
Am I even real?

I got the blues...
I got the writer blues....
I got the no good, low down, bustin' my ass and still no book deal blues.....

A bunch of my friends gathered with me to celebrate my birthday recently. Bunch of creative, brilliant, amazing super-wonderful people whom I am so honored to call my friends. Celebrating me.

Sometimes we can be humbled by things we least expect to be humbled by -- and I am humbled by this amazing group and the esteem they seem to hold me in.

And that kind of sparked my blues -- for whatever reason, I AM held in high esteem by this group, and I'm feeling a bit unworthy of it all.

But, with Pikes Peak Writers Conference just around the corner, I have an opportunity to maybe feel a bit more worthy. Because I HAVE been working my ass off...writing, editing, shaping my pitches (yes pitches, plural). And I am going in with everything I have.

And that will be for me, not for my pals, because they apparently don't need or want me to be anyone or any way other than who I am right now.

Still, opportunity is on the horizon.

And really, it's self indulgent (if slightly cool) to have the blues. I remind myself that I am in charge of my future, I own my destiny, and it is up to me to make things happen, in my life and in my writing career.

So, even though I really like singing the blues, I don't much like having them. And as a writer, I can rewrite the blues into something more uptempo, rock-opera, synth-success, just by sheer force of will and some hard work.

Go write your own songs, folks.

And if they come out rather more bluesy and sad than you like, re-write at will. It's what we do.

The Final Snippet: Nothing mixes quite like absinthe and kids (overheard at my party).

Deb Answers: To Miller in SD: This is not the job you seek.


  1. Sing it, soul sister.

    I feel your pain. I've driven two agents out of the industry due to health concerns (I don't think either was my fault, though) in the past two years. Neither one sold any of my work, so I'm once again hunting for an agent. If I get one, great. If she sells my work, even better. If not, I'll probably still write 2-3 books every year and epublish the ones that nobody else seems to want. According to my records, my backist stuff is selling, and nobody wanted it either.

    That being said, good luck to you this year. We'll hang out and commisserate. :)

  2. I'm happy to commisserate as long as there's beer involved. Or martini-swilling.

    But weirdly I am more hopeful and positive than anything. It's hard to remember when you're a bit down that really you ARE in charge. And I remembered that today...or rather re-remembered it. Or reminded myself. Or something.

    So maybe we should have celebratory cocktails instead of commissatory ones. (made up a

  3. Also, stop breaking agents. It sets a bad precedent.