My wife

Is awesome.

Literary Agents

Folks.  I would love some leads on Literary Agents who handle Fantasy/SF.

I’m 450 manuscript pages into my novel, and frankly, I’m frustrated beyond belief . . .

On the one hand, I could submit unsolicited . . . 3 chapters (been there, done that) and an outline.  But it seems chances of setting the hook are low.

On the other hand, I can submit to literary agent . . . complete manuscript.  Holy cow, I just want to get things moving.  I’m continuing to write.  And write.  And write.

I desire some direction.  What is the best way to go?  What nets the greatest chances of success? 

I have a story.  I’m telling it in secret, but I think there are many folks out there that would also like to become part of it.

Anyone with any leads, contacts, friends, family members related to, possessing acquaintances to, Literary Agents dealing with Fantasy/SF, I’d love to connect.

Joe

Post Thankfulness

Thank goodness.

I promise, I was not a morose, contemplative, lay-about this past 4-day weekend.  Nevertheless, I did spend time pondering things of Thanksgiving and Thankfulness.  It struck me that it seems too easy–flippant, even–to jump on the ‘Thankful Bandwagon.’ 

Thank you for taking care of me.  Thanks to everyone who makes me happy.  Thank you for giving me this or that.  Thank you for sacrificing for me.

I, too, fall into this rote, robotic process of generic ’Thanksgiving’ as well.  I think a better way to approach this–to really convey the genuine heart of our appreciation–requires specifics.

I say that I am:

Thankful for my wife.  For my kids.  For my family.  For my friends.  For all of these things and more. 

But why?  Specifically?

Were it not for my wife, I wouldn’t have my children.  Were it not for my wife, there would be no home worth going to.  Were it not for my wife, I might not know happiness in this life.  When I am a grouch, she puts me in my place.  When I am a dreamer, she feeds the fire and encourages me.  When I fail, she puts it into perspective.  When I succeed, she celebrates.  As well, she allows me to be part of her world, of her dreams, of her failures and successes–she allows me an opportunity to return to her, what she gives to me.

My kids.  I am thankful that they are far more patient with me than I probably am with them.  They teach me grace.  They teach me the simple love that is far more pure, far more unrefined and so very genuine and overpowering.  Where my wife encourages me to dream, my kids teach me how.  They teach me that there are no rules to dreams, no boundaries.  They are kind enough to lend me their eyes every now and again, to see the world, to see our family, from a completely different–and better–perspective.

I am very fortunate to come from a family that knows it’s place in the world.  Aliens, every one of us, in a land not our own.  Just here visiting.  I was fortunate to grow up with a family that knows better than to take itself, or any individual member, too seriously.  My family makes fun of itself and each other, and we laugh.  We laugh until we cry.  Over silly things that have no right being so darn funny.  And better, my family is probably like yours–where secretly, in the dark closet where we hide the real family–all humor, despite attempts at the high-brow and academic, eventually give way to flatulence jokes and bathroom humor.  My family is wonderfully, adorably, unapologetic for being unpretentious and blue-collar.

And my friends.  There are a few of them, thankfully.  Closer in the past then we are now, I suppose, but understandably so given we are all now mid-journey in our own stories.  Wives.  Kids.  Careers.  Travel.  War.  I am thankful, though, that as we come closer to the later chapters, the same friends will be there, to come together and join stories again.  It’s not common for elementary school friends to still hang-out–but we do.  We will.

Pondering all of this, I discovered I’m far more thankful, to far more people, then I let on.  I need to change that.  It is interesting to me to see how people change, how their demeanor changes, how their prespectives change–how their lives change–when they know, really know, that what they do is making a difference, that by just being here, alive, with you and I, they are making a difference for somebody.

It is affirming, emboldening, and necessary.

I know it’s post-holiday, and we are all officially off the hook for pouring out any further Thanksgiving–but take a moment and buck the system.  Break the rules.  Take a moment and tell somebody specifically why you appreciate them. 

You’ll be glad you did.

Good People in Need All Over . . .

I’ve got some really good people I know that are looking for employment.  They are former colleagues, business partners, customers . . . and they are as good as they come in this world.

Furthermore, they have helped me along the way.  I would very much like to return the favor.

I’m thinking of high-caliber folks in places like Eugene, Oregon; Santa Clara, California; Los Angeles, California, etc . . .

If you have a lead on high-tech employment in those areas, please reach out to me on LinkedIn and I’ll put you in touch.

Birthday

So my birthday came and went on Sunday.  A great time.  I turned . . . wait a minute . . . I’m now . . .

Forget it.  It’s so complex, I’d need to break out the calculator.  So we’ll speak in generalities:

• I’m older.
• I’m so very-much-not wiser.
• And I have new knowledge — that I cannot function anymore if I stay up all night.  Oh, to be a college student again.  All of that time–wasted.

Well, not ‘wasted’ wasted.  Okay, well, sometimes . . . but it wasn’t like.  Oh, hell. 

It was college.

Despite the chaos all around–I still love my life.

Oh, and I love sleeping.

Something New Coming

Once I figure out how to make and USE pages, I plan on starting another dialogue surrounding my writing, in the form of quips, snippets, and fictions that can be started and finished in a couple minutes.

I am working on my first novel (10 years plus in the making) and I hope to have it finished in 2009.  I will try to wet appetites until then.

Please Note . . .

Obama is NOT the Messiah.

He has been voted in as our President Elect.

There is a monumental difference.

Vote. Vote. Vote Now.

In the immortal words of Ben Stiller’s Starsky:

Do it.  Do it.

A New Dawn

New Dawn.  New Blog.

I have but one thought today:

Funny, that normally the word “faith” conjures imagery of precariousness, like holding on to a quickly fraying rope.  But now, amid all the chaos and uncertainty in the world, “faith” turns out to be the one thing with the most substance and steeled surety I know.