Posts from — June 2010

In case you weren’t aware, as a blood-thirsty, vampire-like infertile woman, you want to steal another person’s baby.  Some people instinctively know this, so they joke at parties about how they’d like to give their shrieking infant to you (“You want a child?  Take this one!”).  They cock their head to the side and they tell you earnestly that they really really wish this baby growing in their belly was yours because it’s “your turn.”

But others do not know this, and this is why articles like this need to be written; to tell Americans that desperate women want to steal their baby.

With a box-cutter c-section.

But wait!  Though earlier coverage of this story gave vague facts such as the attacker, Veronica Deramous, wanted to “adopt her baby” and that “Deramous had been telling people she was pregnant though she wasn’t and her reason for attacking Adams was likely to keep the baby for her own” at no point do reporters use the term infertile.  In fact, at this point, we know nothing about Deramous’s reasons for wanting this particular baby nor do we hear anything more than conjecture in the second part of Mundy’s article since she states that the motive is still a big question.

Yet why do the detectives, “say they think that Deramous, 40, is no longer able to have children, for reasons other than age.”  On what grounds do they imply infertility?

This word possibly becomes assumed because this story meshes with a long string of fictional infertile and baby loss attackers to perpetuate the idea that baby lust can be felt so strongly that it would make an otherwise sane woman tie up a pregnant woman for days and attempt to cut the baby out of her womb.

If it’s not a full length feature film such as Waterland, it’s a mainstream television show such as Private Practice.  I’m sure there are others, but I’m too busy plotting how to steal a baby to come up with another.

Meanwhile, news coverage sensationalizes the story, pointing out that “if you’re fixated on having a baby, and then you see a tv show or you hear about another example of a woman going and trying to get a baby out of a womb, all of a sudden, that plays into your own delusional system and it becomes an idea that you’re going to act on.”

Hear that infertile, baby-fixated women?  You just heard this story and now you’re going to go act on it.  Pregnant women beware!

I say this tongue-in-cheek because of the ridiculous nature of this belief.  It begins with this thought that infertile women want a baby, therefore, they must want any baby.  Hence why those outside the situation often feel it their place to offer advice on how to reach parenthood counter to the feelings of the people actually experiencing infertility.  Those attempting treatments are told to “just adopt” and those adopting are questioned as to whether they really gave treatments a chance.

Just as those who conceive without assistance make decisions about family building from when to start trying to how many children to have, those who do need assistance simply have an extra layer of decisions to make such as which family building path to use.  But just as it would be annoying for those outside the person or couple to weigh in with their opinions on what month is the best month for a delivery, those who are using assisted conception or adoption to build their family often feel annoyed when people make suggestions without weighing the multitude of factors that go into choosing a path.

The “any baby” belief snowballs into “if they want any baby, then they could even want my baby” with the mistaken notion that the longing for parenthood can become strong enough to turn an otherwise sane person into a baby stealing nightmare.

But Veronica Deramous was anything but sane.  She was a woman with four children (one of whom assisted her in keeping Teka Adams hostage), a jail record, and a history of deception.  She committed forgery and identity theft, ran up debt under other people’s names.  She lied about being pregnant when she wasn’t.

Liza Mundy’s article feels a bit like watching a horror film.  With so many actual scary possibilities in the world, what good can come of watching Freddie Kruger pick off teenagers?  And what is the purpose of placing the reader in the horrifically graphic story, especially one that is backed up by this fact in the second part of the article:

The National Center for Missing and Exploited Children documented 13 U.S. cases of successful removal of a fetus by an abductor from 1987 through last July.

13 cases in 23 years!  This is hardly a situation that demands greater understanding.  Until we are going to fill the newspaper with the more common moment-by-moment break down of a rape (“89,000 women reported being raped in 2008“), something it would behoove the general public to think about a bit more, I’m not sure why we are focusing on the outlandish crimes that while are personally horrific to those involved in those 13 cases, hardly effect the greater population.  You have a greater chance of losing your child while doing nothing (stillbirth rate: 1 out of 160 deliveries) than you do being one of the people who has your child forcefully removed from your body.

Yet still, the message continues with the profile of this sort of attacker according to the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children.  I’ll give you three guesses as to the main criteria…

According to the center’s profile of a typical abductor, the woman may have children of her own but may be no longer able to bear children.

And it all returns to those blood-thirsty, vampire-like infertile women who will do anything to grab a child, any child.

Cross-posted with BlogHer (so check out the comments there too).

For the past few weeks (and a few weeks more), I’ve been doing a partial unplugging.  It’s sort of neither here nor there; I’m not firmly online nor am I firmly off.  Which means that there’s no sense of recharging but there’s also little catch-up.  It’s sort of the best and worst of all possible worlds.

Does it have to be all or nothing?  Some people write posts proudly stating how they turned off the computer and electronic devices for a whole weekend and how it changed their entire outlook on life.

There was a great New York Times article on how kids wish their parents would partially unplug and I’d extend that to…um…everyone.  I get annoyed when the person I’m with is spending more time checking their mobile device than they are interacting with me.  It’s one thing to be sitting online at a conference–I expect everyone at BlogHer this summer will be tweeting while we’re talking–it’s another to be out to dinner.

My partial unplug has been a matter of logistics.  I had an edit due followed by end-of-year activities and the start of summer activities.  Some things have to give and it’s not just cooking and cleaning–it’s computer time too.

It took me almost two weeks to add some people to the blogroll.  I managed to throw up the LFCA, but I didn’t get to click over myself and read full posts.  I read and commented on blogs, but not in the amounts I usually do.  I checked email and answered all of it, but in big chunks sometimes several days later rather than doing it in drips and drabs during the day.

And everyone has survived so far.  Including me.

Yet, at the same time, the Internet is addictive in the same way that chocolate is addictive.  I’m not eating a piece right now, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t think about it constantly or crave it or consider buying some when I see it in the store or choose it over other, healthier food.

I can obviously exist without chocolate in the same way I can exist without the computer, but it seems that a milquetoast retreat from candy (not able to go cold turkey, I limit myself to four Hershey kisses at night) is all I can muster which makes me think that my milquetoast retreat from the computer shouldn’t necessarily be applauded.  It’s a milquetoast retreat because I’m not sure I’d be happy with a complete unplugging.

What I’ve been doing is existing in the place where happiness and time constraints intersect.  I’m doing as much as I can online in order to remain happy with the time constraints holding me to much less than I normally do.

So I can spin it as moderation, but is moderation really just another word for a tempered addiction?  As much as I have days where I wish I could quit the Internet, would I really be happy if I quit the Internet?  Could I ever really give up my blog, or would my finger tremble indefinitely over the delete key?

Are you addicted to the Internet?  Do you actually need an online quiz to determine that?

And apologies, I’m still partially unplugged for another week or so.  Who knows how this summer will go with a changed schedule.  So thank you for understanding if I’m slower than usual to respond.

Welcome back to your Do-it-Yourself MFA program.

Okay, so what do you need to have in place before you start trying to find an agent (or a publisher if you skip the agent route–more on that in future posts)?

Platform

Platform is a term that you’ll hear people use a lot and it means, pretty much, your reach.  How visible you are and where you are visible, your reputation (do people respect what you have to say?  Are you an authority in the field?), and public reaction.  Think of it as a literal invisible platform that you’ll stand on at a rally.  Where do you visualize its placement?

Think of your reach as a literal — if invisible — platform that you’ll stand on at a rally, and think about where this platform would be placed. Are you on the main stage for your niche? Are you sort of on a side stage? Um … are you in the back of the audience, not even on a platform at all, with several heads blocking your ability to see the main stage?

Stephen Colbert is definitely on the main stage, because he has a hit television show and can sell his book via that medium. But plenty of people who do not have hit television shows will also be on the main stage when it comes to their smaller niches in the world.

Are you gulping right now and thinking, “But I don’t have a platform!” Well, actually, if you have a blog, you do. Your blog is part of your platform. It has reach if you have readers.

The best thing you can do right now is build your blog, because it is a litmus test of how people respond to your writing (and books are obviously about writing). Blogging has changed the publishing world, since anyone can self-publish her thoughts and build a following before her first book hits the shelves. (In the past, you needed to do a lot of freelance work to build your author platform, which meant even more hoops to jump through. Be thankful you’re living in the blogging age.)

How many readers are “a lot of readers” differs from writer to writer — a big six publishing company* is going to have a different opinion about that than a smaller independent publisher.

If you don’t have a blog, start one. And dedicate time to writing it. Here is all the blogging advice I have to give in how to build a following.

Social media extends your reach, too. Get involved in Facebook; get involved with Twitter. But know that even agents can distinguish between organic followers (those who are genuinely interested in what you have to say) and filler followers (people who follow you numerically, but aren’t really reading you from TweetDeck), and they don’t put a ton of stock in those numbers.

In the end, a blog, with long-term statistics provided by Statcounter or Sitemeter and documented proof of your readership, is the best measurable platform as well as sense of your writing style.

Media

Agents and publishers are going to want to know your media contacts.  Do you have any?  You probably do if you think about this long enough.  Start with the newspapers and magazines and television programs most likely to feature your book–do you know anyone there?  Build relationships if you don’t have any yet.  And do this before you start looking for an agent because they’re going to want to know if you have any connections.

And this is not the time to be shy–you will need to call in favours.  And be clear that your media contacts can ask favours from you.

Self-Publicity

Are you okay with public speaking, with talking about your book, with shmoozing and attending events?  No?  Well, then book publishing might not be for you because authors today are expected to be their own publicists along with their actual publicists.  You need to be willing to get out there and give interviews and attend events and speak about your book effusively.  And if you can’t do that, practice.  Because how you come across to the agent matters too.

Thick Skin

If you try to publish a book, you will get rejected a lot. First, you will be rejected by agents. If you sign with an agent, you will be rejected by publishers. If published, your book will be rejected by critics, or by people who you wish would buy it and talk about it. There is a lot of rejection inherent in publishing, and before you begin, you need to know if the rejection is worth the outcome. Because damn, the rejection stings.

This is the way I think about it: I really wanted to get married, and I knew that if I wanted to get married, I also had to put myself out there and date and possibly get my heart stomped on pretty hard. And plugging away at that sucked. I hated not knowing if all the hard work of dating was going to pay off with a long-term relationship, and I based my desire to get married on a leap of faith that it would be worth all the nights I cried because I either couldn’t meet anyone or I had managed to find the biggest losers (Abortion Man ring any bells?). I was willing to put my heart through just about anything to get to a good partnership (oh, yes: I also wasn’t willing to settle).

There were two other places I was willing to push myself and go through all the disappointments in order to reach the goal: Building my family and publishing a book. Everything else — not worth it to me. There have been plenty of other things I’ve wanted in life, including a hit show on Broadway called “Jazz Hands,” but they aren’t worth the disappointments that come with putting your heart out there.

And you may look inward right now and say, “You know what, as much as I want to publish a book, I think I’m going to skip straight to self-publishing, because I really don’t think I could handle the rejection now. I’ll wait until Melissa discusses that in a few weeks.” It is good to know yourself — life is short, and it is not worth using up emotional energy on projects that are not grabbing you by the ovaries. Or you may decide this isn’t the time, but another point in your life will be the time. Or you may already have a thick skin and say, “Rejection shmjection! Who cares what others think as long as I get to that end point of seeing my book at the local bookstore?”

And that, my friend, is your best asset when it comes to getting through the next steps.

Time

Lastly, do you have the time to dedicate to this? People will expect you to make the time, especially if you’ve asked them to make time by considering your work. Do you have the time to make edits and return e-mails and send out more queries? Because other people will get pretty damn cranky with you if you do this half-assed.

If you’re the type (and be honest) who would receive an e-mail from an agent and sit on it for several days before deciding that you just don’t have the time to do this, I’d probably stop before you begin.

I treat the business side of writing with the urgency of stop-drop-and-roll: I forgo other things–such as relaxing at night–to return e-mails in a timely manner, complete edits, or get whatever to whomever. People want to work with others who are focused and serious, so weigh out whether you have the energy and time to dedicate to this.

Okay class, any questions on what was discussed here?  Please leave them in the comment section below and I will answer them in the comment section below.  Keep in mind that I have a lot of topics to cover so your question may be answered in a future installment (see below).  So keep your questions to platform, media, self-publicity, thick skin, time, or other things you’re wondering about before you get started.

Heads Up and Looking Back: topics that will be covered in future installments or that were covered in past installments

1. Before You Even Get Started

2. THIS POST

3. How to Write a Non-Fiction Book Proposal and Choose Your Chapters

4. Why You Need an Agent

5. How to Find and Sign with a Reputable Agent

6. Querying Agents

7. What Happens Next–Waiting for a Book Sale

8. No Agent? Other Paths to Publication

9. What to Expect After You Sign a Book Deal

10. Be Your Own Publicist

11. A Mishmash of Leftover Questions and Answers

*I’ll use this term in the future to distinguish between big six publishing, small press publishing, and self-publishing.

You’ve probably read by now one of the 8000 posts out there about abortions performed after IVF.  You know, the one where they paint women who utilize IVF as desiring “designer goods” (because that’s the reason why people do selective reduction–to get a Vera Wang baby).  This is my take over at BlogHer on whether or not this is even newsworthy, because seriously, how many assumptions can the BBC make?

I believe strongly in the statement I make at the end: choices are not choices if they only have an “in” door and no “out” door.

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On a lighter note, I also made a step-by-step video/photo post about making ice cream (complete with two recipes).  After I finished making the ice cream and eating two bowls (okay, maybe three bowls), I went to clean out the freezing canister and I noticed that water was squirting out a hole in the unblemished metal.  In other words, not another scratch in sight, but water…wait, scratch that…freezing gel was pouring out through the hole.

Of course my ice cream maker doesn’t sell replacement bowls.  I was going to buy a new ice cream maker, but my mother ended up offering hers.  In the meantime, I left the ice cream in the freezer and Josh went to eat it that night despite my warning that who knows if freezing gel leaked into the batch (unlikely since it was frozen and therefore on the other side of the metal).  That’s how good the ice cream is–it’s worth risking the consumption of saline gel.

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The Weekly What If: what if you could own any type of store?  What kind of space would you create?  What would you sell?  Where would it be?  Would it be a restaurant, book store, candy shop?  If the chance to succeed was not a factor and people would flock to your retail space wherever it was, what type of business would you run?

Obviously piggybacking on yesterday’s post about Politics and Prose.  Sniff.

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And now, the blogs…

An Unexpected Life has a post about Facebook.  She explains how seeing the baby announcements are like hearing someone fight–you don’t want to listen, and yet you can’t turn away.  She points out the ways she’ll never be able to participate in the Facebook game–even once she reaches parenthood.  It’s a well-written post.

Dear Rowan has a post about a dream that led her to her new doctor.  It’s crazy dream interpretation, moving between the asleep world and the awake world.  I just thought it made for an interesting post.

Find Joy Now has an incredibly beautiful post about everyone else but her.  She asks, “How do you tell someone who is so thrilled and excited with life and the new life growing inside of them how much you are aching inside without them taking it personally and then hating you for bringing them down?”  It is about knowing your personal limits and recognizing the rain falling on your head when everyone else seems to be basking in sunshine.

Lastly, Just Keep Swimming has a post about the other teachers at her school who complain about the students during lunch.  She points out the inherent problem with this, explaining, “There is a lot of self-righteous cynicism among the teachers at my school; since we spend 1 hour a day with each of these children, we are obviously experts in parenting. “  And for an infertile woman, who wants a child in her home to parent, the idea of directing hatred towards a child is unfathomable.

The roundup to the Roundup: Please give your thoughts about the abortion after IVF articles.  Or make some ice cream this summer (so damn easy).  Answer the Weekly What If.  And lots of great blogs to read.

Politics and Prose, my favourite book store, is being sold.  After the story broke in the Washington Post, a few people emailed and jokingly said, “you should buy it!” but I just sat against the wall at the twins’ gymnastics class and read it from my blackberry and cried.  I’m really not great with change and the fact was, my first hopeful thought before the reality kicked in that no bank would give me a loan for this coupled with the knowledge that I have no retail book experience, was that I would love to own it.  I would love to sit in that central desk and help customers find books, introduce authors, and flip through the publisher’s catalogs.

I had my very first reading at Politics and Prose, and I will never be able to express how grateful I am to Carla Cohen for sitting with me in her office beforehand, chatting about the book and throwing out suggestions for future ones, and then infusing me with a booster shot of confidence when I realized that I had left my notes at home.

I had my first dates with Josh at Politics and Prose.  That’s where we went a’courting.  That’s where I learned that Josh wasn’t going to move to New York and instead he was going to stay and love me.  That’s where we planned our wedding.  That’s where we wrote our thank you notes after the wedding.  It’s where we started bringing the twins once we could bring them out of the house.  It’s where they love crawling into the little nook under the stairs.

It’s where I hung out with my friends.  It’s where I wrote the majority of my translation project for graduate school.  It’s where I spent so much time that the old cafe owners named a drink after me.  It’s where a large chunk of the books on our bookshelves come from.

You can understand why Washingtonians are emotional and we never want it to change, even if we knew that at the end of the day, the owners were only human and this needed to happen at some point.  But we can never thank Carla Cohen and Barbara Meade enough for starting this space and building it into the sort of space you would want to come back to, day after day, year after year.  And that’s why it meant so much to me to have my first reading there.  Because it was like coming home.

Even if you do not have specific Politics and Prose memories like me, I would love to hear about your favourite book store and how it rests in a little nook in your heart.