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Miss Snark, the literary agent: Miss Snark is Retiring

(and just when I figured out how to link straight to a particular post)

Hey, how did it get to be Wednesday already? I promised my comments on the fanfic stories, and then on Monday, I forgot. I’m sorry. It’s that same old end of the school year stuff clouding my brain.

First let me say that there was a word limitation on this. It’s very difficult to do an entire story in the number of words I gave you. You have to choose between action/dialogue and description/characterization. Both authors assumed that we’d be familiar enough with the settings, mood, characters, and other background stuff, and chose to focus on the action/dialogue. That was a good choice.

Portrait of a Jedi:
You created a complete story. That was good for the purposes of this exercise. If it were the end of a chapter, you would want to follow up with something that would entice the reader to continue on, sort of a mini-cliffhanger. I thought having Obi-Wan feel what the droejan felt was cool. (Gross, but cool.) I would have liked to see just a bit more intensity of emotion–why was the boy important; was Obi-Wan afraid he would fail and was he sad or angry about that; was he afraid he would die, that finally he’d done something so reckless that he was doomed; and maybe some relief when Qui-Gon showed up. The sort of placid, matter-of-fact tone doesn’t let us connect with Obi-Wan as a real person.

Final Word: Good start; add more emotion.

Supernatural:
I’ve never seen this show, but I could clearly understand what was going on. That was good. I liked the way you started right in the middle of the action/conflict. Good choice. I liked the salt pellets. There was a lot of dialogue but it worked. I might add a little internal dialogue, so we know how the boy’s are interpreting what they’re seeing. Are they afraid? Or is this old hat to them? If this were a book, you’d need to add more description (which you left out due to limited word count). Having the old man “crackle” was distracting. Use “said” then you could say something like Sam could hear his bones crackle when he stood, or something like that. I like the ending. It provides the motivation for the boys’ conflict and also sets up that there will be future conflict between them.

Final Word: Good job. Makes me want to watch the show.

I only got two submissions for this contest. Both are posted below. Since there are only two, let’s not vote for a winner. Instead, leave comments about what you liked about the stories, if you felt they captured the feeling of the original story, if you’d like to read more. If it didn’t work for you, give specific suggestions on what you’d do differently.

I will post my comments about each one on Monday.

Dean pushed the door open, shotgun cocked in his hand. He eyed the room. “Sammy, where are you?”

Sam burst through another door. “Did you see anything?”

“No.” Sam lowered the shotgun.

“Salt pellets might not work, you know,” Sam said.

“I keep telling you, it’s a demon. Nothing else.”

“But, the bright light—“

Dean cut him off. “Are you gonna start in again?”

“Why is it so impossible for you to believe that we’re chasing something else this time?”

“Like what?” Dean assumed a defiant stance.

“You know.”

“Give me a break, Sammy. This is like any other job. People keep dying and we’re going to hunt it down and stop it from killing again. End of story.” Dean checked inside a closet.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because.” Dean turned around to face Sam. “We’ve been hunting these things for years. They’re demons, that’s all. Nothing else.”

The door creaked open.

Dean whirled around, shotgun pointed and ready to fire.

“Don’t shoot.” A withered man crackled as he attempted to raise his hands.

Sam rushed to him. “What are you doing out here?”

“I check on the place now and then.”

Dean reluctantly lowered the shotgun. “Sorry about that.”

“Why are you in my cabin?”

“Oh, us, we’re, uh—“ Sam started.

“Gas inspectors. Someone reported a leak and we came to look things over. The shotgun’s for safety.”

“There hasn’t been gas here for years. I don’t even use it anymore, not since my Edith passed over. It was our special place.”

“We’re sorry to bother you then,” Dean said.

Sam glanced around the room. “It’s getting lighter in here.”

The old man smiled as light spilled into the room.

Dean pulled the shotgun close. He shielded his eyes.

“Edith? Is that you?” The old man reached out. “I’ve been praying for you to come and get me. It’s finally time.”

Sam and Dean stepped back while the light took the form of a young woman.

“It is you. You’re so young and beautiful. Like the day we met.”

Sam grabbed Dean’s shoulder. “Don’t shoot.”

Mesmerized by the powerful light, Dean watched it envelope the old man and whisk him away. In a flash, it was over.

Dean rubbed his eyes. “Why’d you stop me, Sam?”

“I think she was an angel.”

“Oh, come on. That poor dude was taken by a demon and we didn’t do anything to prevent it.”

“No, Dean. I really think she was an angel.”

“I should’ve blown her away.”

Sam moved close to Dean. “I think she was sent here to bring him back.”

“Back where?”

Sam shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“You believe that?”

“After what we’ve seen, how can we say there aren’t angels?”

“’Cause.” Dean jutted out his chin. “There’s not.”

“Why are you so certain?”

Dean walked to the window. He gazed outside and swallowed hard. “Because, Sam, if there was,” he paused, “why didn’t any of them save Mom?”

Disclaimer: The characters of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn, the concept of the Force, and the entire Star Wars universe belongs to George Lucas. I am borrowing them for purposes of entertainment with no intent to profit. The droejan is my own creation.

Reckless! Pressed up against the putrid-smelling belly of the droejan, Obi-Wan Kenobi wondered how he could have been so stupid. He should have listened to the warnings about the droejans luring people into their lairs with mirages – but he hadn’t reckoned on seeing a mirage of young Bail Organa. The boy had disappeared, and as the Jedi were negotiating the succession to the Viceroy’s throne anyway, they had been asked to investigate. The Force had led them into the mountainous terrain, and when Obi-Wan had seen the boy in the mouth of a cave, he’d simply run ahead, eager to rescue.

The droejan had caught him almost immediately, sweeping him up to its underside with long, strong limbs. Now inside, it laid Obi-Wan on the floor and stroked his face with something thin and bristly. The limb rasped against the skin of his neck, then retreated. Something else plunged directly into his jugular vein, and Obi-Wan screamed as his blood was sucked out of his body.

Abruptly, the droejan stopped and, despite the pain, Obi-Wan felt delighted surprise ripple through his consciousness. Drooling with desire, he determined to take only small, regular sips of this special blood. He could drain the other human, but he’d keep this one as long as he could. Realizing he was sharing the droejan’s consciousness, Obi-Wan swallowed in disgust.

Hot acid shot into Obi-Wan’s bloodstream, then the droejan removed its fang. The torment faded to a comforting numbness and he no longer felt the droejan’s desire to feed. Its back legs rustled, and then one of its arms lifted his head quickly while the other one slipped something silky over his head and around his neck.

It jumped away, and Obi-Wan sat up and examined his neck. Something foreign covered the wound and when he touched it with his fingertips, the feeling drained out of them. When he tugged on the silky thing, he could feel a thin cord like a leash. Fighting increasing drowsiness, he followed it to a stone column, then recoiled as his foot stepped on something soft and yielding.

Yawning, Obi-Wan knelt down, feeling around. An arm! His hand came in contact with hair, then a face. Just then, the lair was lit by the green glow of Qui-Gon Jinn’s lightsaber and Obi-Wan could see who was lying there. He’d found Bail Organa, asleep.

The light went out for a moment, and pain stabbed through Obi-Wan’s neck, banishing his sleepiness. It felt as though the droejan had come back, but when he put his hand up, there was nothing there. Below him, Bail whimpered and stirred as well. The agony disappeared abruptly and the drowsiness returned. Trying to stifle another yawn, Obi-Wan watched Qui-Gon remove his lightsaber from the droejan’s head.

Kneeling down at Bail’s side to check the boy’s pulse, Qui-Gon glanced over to his apprentice. Obi-Wan braced himself for a lecture on his recklessness, but his master merely said, “Obi-Wan, I hope you get a padawan just like you.”

Okay, here we go.

Almost as Smart as Me question (tie)
What writing books would you recommend? I’ve heard that some rules of grammar have changed/are changing–how do we keep up? (Rebecca Talley)

What subjects are “off limits” that you would not consider publishing, no matter how well written? (Rebecca Talley)

These are both really smart questions. The answers change from time to time, so it’s good to keep asking them.

Obviously Doesn’t Have a Clue question
Should I spend a lot of time trying to figure out where best to place chapters or will that all change anyway if my manuscript is accepted? (Rebecca Talley)

Even though Rebecca knows better and intended this question as a joke, the unfortunate reality is I’ve had people ask me that. Really.

Got to Be Kidding question
Last month I decided to become a best-selling author and ever since then, I’ve had my eye on a silver Mercedes. Do you think I should buy it when I get my contract or wait and pay cash for it when I get my first royalty check? By the way, I’m planning to have my book written and published within six months. (Rebecca Talley)

Again, Rebecca is joking but some people really believe they can buy a new car with their first royalty check. Not in this market. Not usually in any other market either, although there are the rare exceptions.

Never Heard That One Before question
I have created a soundtrack for my book. Would it be useful to send in a CD of the soundtrack with the book? Should I list the songs and artists at the end of my book as notations for inspiration? (Andi Sherwood)

I honestly have never heard this one before. Answer coming soon.

Made Me Spew My Drink While Laughing question
I’m trying to figure out if it’s best to use designer perfume to scent the pages of my manuscript and cover letter or if it’s okay to just go with a perfume from Target? (Rebecca Talley)

It was tough picking a winner in this category, but I think this one is it.

My Favorite question
Do you think it’s easier to become a brain surgeon than a published author? (Rebecca Talley)

I don’t know if this is my favorite because it’s such a cool question, or if I like it best because I had so much fun answering it. Either way, it wins.

Are You Sure You’re Not a Three-Year-Old? (aka: person who submits the most REAL questions)
Is there anyone here who wonders who is going to win this one? 80% of the questions, serious and tongue-in-cheek, came from Rebecca Talley, who is now my new best friend.

Thanks also to Andi, Melanie, Tristi, Terri, Mindi, Nolan, and a few other anonymous question submitters. I really appreciate your questions and will answer all of them in the coming days.

Based on all the kind words of concern, posted here and e-mailed, I have belatedly realized that I probably shouldn’t have worded my post quite that way. It’s really not a big deal.

Personal Issue = end of school year for my children who all need my personal attention RIGHT THIS VERY MINUTE. I probably get 10 texts/e-mails a day asking me what a word means or how to spell something or if the comma is in the right place or (my personal favorite) will I write their 20 page term paper for them please, and btw, it’s due tomorrow. Then there’s all the year-end banquets and awards events and dances and cramming for finals (which they’ve never learned to do by themselves; even the ones at college want me to quiz them over the phone). And one of them has Girls Camp the week after school lets out. So, well, you get the idea.

I had to choose between writing the LDSP posts or being nice to my kids. They won. And they’re still winning. I really will get back here soon. And I’ll choose my words more carefully next time.

In the midst of a personal issue. Will post winning questions later this week.

Also, have only received two submissions for the fan-fic contest. Extending the deadline through Saturday, May 5th.

I can’t deal with the fact that I’ve disappointed a reader by not running a writing contest–and one of my most frequent readers at that. I had nightmares of her taking revenge upon me all weekend! (Well, not really. But I did think about it once or twice.)

So in addition to the Question contest, here is a contest for May.

In honor of Star Wars Day on May 4th, let’s do a fan-fic contest. Submit a 500 word story for consideration. It does not have to be a Star Wars fan fic; pick anything you like. It does not have to be LDS, but it does have to be PG (no swearing, sex or graphic violence).

Deadline for Submission: April 30th.

I will post all submissions during that next week. You can vote for your favorites. Prizes will be awarded to My Fav and Readers Fav. More details later, but this gives you enough to get started on your story.

Oh, and one last thing, ALL STORY SUBMISSIONS MUST BE ACCOMPANIED BY A QUESTION FOR THIS BLOG.

(How’s that Melanie? Now we’re both happy.)

Melanie had some great ideas for an April writing contest–and I will keep them in mind for the future. But between asking for your ideas this morning, and uhm, NOW–I had a thought. I know some of you will think this is a self-serving cop out, and you would be right. But if you play nice, I’ll do an actual writing contest next month.

April 29th marks my one year anniversary for this blog. It’s been fun for me. I hope it has been helpful to you.

The biggest difficulty I have, however, is trying to figure out what to blog about–every single day. (It’s sort of like the ‘what’s for dinner question,’ which I never have a good answer for.)

So here’s the contest. Between now and April 29th, Submit questions for the blog. I will give prizes for the following categories:

• My Favorite question
• Made Me Spew My Drink While Laughing question
• Almost as Smart as Me question
• Obviously Doesn’t Have a Clue question
• Got to Be Kidding question
• Never Heard That One Before question
• Are You Sure You’re Not a Three-Year-Old? (aka: person who submits the most REAL questions–fake questions do not count; anonymously submitted questions do not count)

Categories that will get acknowledgment, but no prize

• FAQs (aka: most frequently asked question)

I may add more categories, if I think of them, so check back. I don’t know what the prizes will be yet, but I’ll think of something between now and then–probably something silly and cheesy.

Rules are:
1. Send your question to me via e-mail, not in the comments trail.

2. Your question has to have something to do with writing or publishing. (No historical fact questions, like what was the very first published LDS novel–because I don’t know and I don’t want to do any research for this.)

3. I reserve the right not to award a prize if none of the questions seem to fit in a particular category.

I’ll post and answer the questions in whatever order I feel like answering them; one per day, as usual. (I hope I get 365 different questions. That would just make my year!)

I’ll post the winners on April 30th because the 29th is a Sunday.

Dear XYZ Publisher;

He fought an elephant and won, saved a man’s life, reunited two brothers on a battlefield and helped stop the invasion of an entire army.

Chetak, the hero of this 2,200 [I’m assuming word] picture book, was a horse.

This remarkable true story is set in India, a land of color and mystery. The bright, colorful illustrations give young readers a fascinating look at another period of time while sharing the amazing and tender story of a horse and the two brothers who loved him.

When the younger brother could not claim the beautiful Chetak for himself, he argued with his brother then left to live in a distant city. Angered, the two brothers did not speak nor write to each other. A few years later war erupted across India and the brothers joined opposite armies.

On the battlefield, Chetak’s victorious battle against the king’s elephant brought the two brothers together again. Their reunion was so powerful and touching that
the invading king refused to harm either brother. Rather, he granted them the peace they finally knew they desired.

The rich, keepsake illustrations and text introduce children to a country and culture that are not well know[n]. The [This] story about Chetak teaches a universal truth: brothers and family love are important.

I am submitting this manuscript to you because of your strong interest in multi-cultural endeavors. I have worked as a freelance writer and artist for years. My writing has appeared in various national and international publications including Parenting, Horse & Rider, and Western Horseman. My artwork has appeared in magazines such as The Friend and Western Horseman, as well as juried shows and private collections.

Thank you for your time and consideration. I hope you enjoy the true story of Chetak.

This is not a bad query letter. I’d ask to see it. There is nothing in it that I’d change.

The only caution I would give, and it may not apply here since you’ve sold artwork, is to be very cautious about sending illustrations with your text. Most publishers have in-house illustrators or freelancers that they prefer to use. Or they want an illustration style different from what you’ve submitted. If you seem too locked in to the idea of using your own illustrations, and the publisher doesn’t like them, they may reject the manuscript as well.

If you are a professional illustrator–as in, you’ve SOLD artwork to someone who doesn’t know you personally–and you absolutely want to sell your art and book together as a set, then go ahead and send the illustrations. But if you lack experience, I’d suggest sending only one or two illustrations with the manuscript and stating in your query that you are sending the samples for consideration but that you are willing to sell the manuscript independent of your illustrations.

I have several questions waiting for answers. If you submitted a question and I haven’t answered it yet, be patient. I’ll get to it.

Today is the last day to send a pitch for the January Pitch contest. I’ll start posting the pitches and my comments tomorrow. So far, I have five.

I got tagged over on Six LDS Writers and A Frog. I think Jeff is trying to trip me up so that I’ll accidentally reveal myself in this exercise. But I’m betting I can come up with 5 absolutely honest and truly revealing things about me that no one knows without giving myself away. Let’s see…

1. I have about 47 log-in name and password combinations that I use online. I never can remember which ones I’ve used at which place, so it takes me almost 5 minutes to log in everywhere. Which may explain why I feel like I never get anything done.

2. My secret wish is to be strong enough to hit a man in the face and make him cry. Nothing against men in general, I’ve just never been very strong and most men laugh hysterically when I hit them.

3. I currently have 29 novels in progress, some of which I’ve been working on for over 27 years.

4. When I’m bored, I plan what I would do differently if I suddenly had $350 million tax-free dollars. I justify this by saying I am creating it spiritually, so that it can someday be created physically. Also that if I come up with a good enough plan, God might actually give it to me.

5. I absolutely hate these tagging games (and chain letters, and dish towel clubs, and recipe games) and I refuse to tag anyone. So this leg of the game stops here. Sorry. But if you’d really like to participate, you can list your 5 Things in the Comments.

January Pitch Contest is closed. Check back later for another contest.

Send me your pitch for an LDS novel. The pitch is the part of your query letter that lets me know what your book is about, who the characters are, the situations they’re facing, the hook that would get me to read it. I will post more about what makes a good pitch during this month.

Rules for the contest:

• The pitch should be for your original unpublished novel (as in, not something you’ve heard about; not something your friend is working on, not something that’s already published).
• Do not send a pitch for a work that has been entered or queried in a previous contest on this blog.
• The novel does not have to be finished to pitch it in this contest because you won’t be submitting it to me.
• No limit on word count, but keep in mind that most good pitches are shorter rather than longer.
• You may pitch as many novels as you like but send a separate e-mail for each one.
• You may send your pitch(es) at any time during the month of January. E-mail must be dated no later than January 31, 2007.
• I will not post submissions as they arrive, but will save them up and post them during the first week of February–with my comments.
• Should a miracle happen and I become deluged with pitches, I will post the first 100 pitches that I receive.
• Everyone who enters the contest wins the prize. The prize is: my commentary on your pitch. I will tell you if your pitch would be successful with me, and why or why not.

Just in case you haven’t heard yet, Deseret Book acquired Seagull (discount retailer) and Covenant (publisher). They made the announcement this morning.

This was a surprise. I knew they were still “talking,” but never in my wildest dreams did I think it would go this way. Well, maybe in my very wildest dreams, but Mr. Kofford has not made it a secret that he enjoys being a competitive pain in DBs side–and so I repeat, this was a surprise.

So now what?

First, I want to say that this is NOT a case of big, bad Deseret Book picking on poor, sweet little Covenant/Seagull. Lew Kofford has enough business savvy that no one is going to walk all over him. This is a wise business move on the part of DB and Kofford seems happy with it. The good news is that DB intends to keep the companies separate and to continue to have Covenant and Seagull function as they have been. That is a better situation than gobbling them up and merging.

But that’s the end of the good news. This is a blow to smaller publishers and independent bookstores who are already struggling to compete in a market dominated by a few giants. I wish I could cry “No fair” and accuse them of doing something bad and wrong, but I can’t. This is the way business works these days. Wal-Mart does it. Colgate does it. The big NY based publishing conglomerates do it. They purchase smaller houses but let them continue to run themselves.

The fact is, in business, you swim with the big guys or you sink and get eaten. Sometimes the big guy will let you ride on his back rather than eat you up. From a small publisher’s point of view, both getting eaten (fast death) or forced to ride the big guy’s back are both better options than getting kicked out of the pond and flopping on the banks for awhile, gasping for air, then dying a long, slow torturous death.

And I can’t say that if DB approached me tomorrow and made me an offer that I wouldn’t sell out. I’d have to think a good long time, but I really don’t know what I’d do.

I know many of you want to know how this will effect you–your chances of getting published. For now, it will remain status quo. There will still be two houses/imprints (more actually, because DB has several imprints). They will each specialize in what they are currently specializing in. You will continue to submit to both houses, as you always have and for the same reasons as before. And then we just wait and see.

It’s time to vote on the five Christmas stories submitted to the contest. To see all five stories, click on the label “December 2006 Contest” link at the bottom of this post. Read the stories and vote for your favorites. You can vote for as many stories as you like, but you can only vote for a story once. (Ex: You could vote for #1, #2 and #5, but you can’t cast two votes for #3).

For your vote to count, you must post the phrase “I vote for this one” (or something very much like that) so that it’s clear you’re voting and not just commenting.

I will tally the votes and post the winners after Jan. 1.

Good luck to everyone.

Christmas Lights

Many people had reported seeing a pattern of lights in the sky, with an unusually bright red light on one end. Naturally, most of the adults dismissed this as passing aircraft, although a few were suggesting UFO’s. Anyone under ten was convinced it was Santa making test runs. Nine-year-old Amelia had her doubts, but wanted to believe.

The previous night, she had been in her backyard hoping to see the mysterious lights when she heard a sound. She cupped her ears, trying to find the source. It sounded like a faint tinkle of metal. Could it be sleigh bells, ringing from the sky? She heard no more that night but did see the mystical lights for herself.

The next day, Amelia discovered her older brother laughing with a bunch of his friends. When she asked what was so funny, they all tried to look serious.

“It’s Guy Stuff; you wouldn’t understand,” Charlie responded in a lofty tone.

The next evening, she went outside to find Santa. She sat and wrapped herself in a blanket and watched the night sky. She felt a little like Linus waiting for the Great Pumpkin to arrive. She giggled at the thought of Snoopy joining her. She shivered and searched the stars.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a red flash. She turned to look and saw not just one red light, but several! Then some green and blue lights joined them, and there was one red light brighter than the rest.

“Rudolph?,” she mouthed almost silently.

She rose walked in the direction of what simply must be Santa’s sleigh, until she heard the jingle off to her right. She looked right and then back again at the lights, confused as to how she might hear the sleigh bells over here and see the lights over there.

She cautiously followed the tinkling, still taking nervous glances back at the lights and then heard some different sounds. She approached the tool shed and timidly looked around the corner.

There she saw a mama cat with a belled collar who was giving birth behind the shed. She tried to get a closer look, but the cat hissed. Then, Amelia saw all of the birthing fluid and blood. She shrieked and backed away. As she tried to make sense of what she saw, she noticed that the colored lights seemed to scatter, then wink out.

She silently prayed that her parents would come help, but suddenly her brother Charlie came out of the darkness with his friends. They were all putting something in their pockets, but she didn’t have time to wonder what. Charlie asked why she screamed and she pointed at the litter of kittens.

Later, she retold the story to her parents as they all sat around the living room admiring the mama cat and her kittens.

“I went out looking for Santa and I found these wonderful presents instead!”

LDSP Comments: The connection between what the boys are doing and the lights is not clear enough. Were they fireworks? I liked the ending. I think with some work, this might be publishable too.

Reasons

I put my gift on the table, smiled hello at the people I recognized and scanned the room. I didn’t see him anywhere.

“Have you see him?” I asked Sharon.

“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “But did you have some of the cake? It’s delicious.”

They had cake already? Did they sing and I missed it? It was his party—every year it was his party. So where was he?

Sharon hailed someone from across the room and I moved toward Ren. “Where is he?” I asked, still peering around bodies, hoping to catch sight of him.

Ren shrugged, “I don’t know,” he said with the same lack of concern Sharon had showed.

“You haven’t seen him?”

“Nope,” he said with a shake of his head. “Did you get me anything?”

“You?” I repeated. Why would I bring a present for Ren?

His shoulders slumped and he walked off muttering. I watched him go, perplexed, then looked around the room again. Maybe I wasn’t at the right place.

Everyone was eating, laughing, talking, enjoying themselves. Was I the only one that noticed his absence?

I saw Cloe on the other side of the room and hurried toward her. Maybe she would know. When she turned to me, I didn’t waste any time.

“Where is he?” I asked. “No one’s seen him.”

“Oh, he’s not here,” she said evenly, stabbing her final bite of cake with her Santa-handled fork.

“But it’s his party,” I said as she put the cake in her mouth. “Why isn’t he here?”

“Well,” she said once she swallowed, blinking her big blue eyes and looking thoughtful. “I don’t think he was invited.”

It was my turn to blink. “Not invited?” I echoed. “Why not?

Cloe shrugged. “Don’t get all bent out of shape. The point it we get to celebrate. In fact, we combined it with Ren’s welcome home party and Lisa’s baby shower. Isn’t that great?”

“Why would you do that?”

“Well, it didn’t seem fair to do all this just for him, yah know—I mean what makes him so special? We wanted everyone to feel included.”

That was the strangest thing I’d ever heard of. “But without him? He’s the one that started all this. What about the gift I brought?”

“Just give it to someone else—Lisa maybe.”

“Lisa?” I said, my frustration showing in my voice. “But He’s the reason I’m here at all.”

“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “I get it. It’s his birthday—and Ren’s welcome home and Lisa’s baby shower.” She put a hand on my arm and leaned in, her tone hinting that I should know all this already. “It’s not about him anymore,” she whispered. “So just have a good time, okay, that’s what this is about—oh and the food and the presents.” She laughed. “But don’t make a big deal about it, okay, we don’t want anyone to get upset. It would totally ruin the party.”

LDSP Comments: Another variation on a theme. I’ve heard similar stories. I like this one better than #2 because it does have more originality to it. Also, it made me stop, think and re-evaluate my Christmas behavior. That’s always a good thing. Still, not original enough for publication.

A woman walked into the convenience store, obviously from out of town by her clothing and mannerisms. When she put her purchases on the counter, I asked her where she was from.

“Is it so obvious I’m not from here?” she asked.

I just smiled. “What do you think of our city?”

She hesitated for a moment and then shook her head. “No offense, sir, but it’s horrible. I saw people lined up for the soup kitchen across the street, what looked like gang members lounging outside an old church and with the graffiti and obvious poverty . . . ” She shook her head again. “I came to visit my son for the holidays but it just doesn’t feel like Christmas. I’d rather be anywhere but here”

Several minutes later another woman walked into the convenience store, obviously from out of town by her clothing and mannerisms. When she put her purchases on the counter, I asked her where she was from.

“Is it so obvious I’m not from here?” she asked.

I just smiled. “What do you think of our city?”

She hesitated for a moment and then shook her head. “It’s amazing. I saw people lined up for the soup kitchen across the street, with dozens of volunteers inside to serve them. I saw some teenage boys hanging out in front of a church, holding the door open as people came for holiday services. I saw tinsel and Christmas decorations amid the graffiti . . .” She shook her head again. “I came to visit my son for the holidays and I don’t know that I’ve ever seen Christmas so starkly before. So many people with so little, and yet the Christmas spirit is so strong. I can’t think of a better place to be for Christmas.”

Several minutes later another woman walked into the convenience store, obviously from out of town by her clothing and mannerisms. When she put her purchases on the counter, I asked her where she was from.

“Is it so obvious I’m not from here?” she asked.

I just smiled. “What do you think of our city?”

She regarded me for a moment. “What do you think of your city?” she asked me in return. “I came to visit my son for the holidays and I just don’t know what to make of this place. What will I find here this Christmas season?”

“Well, ma’am, it depends on what you look for.”

LDSP Comments: This is a variation on a theme. I’ve heard similar stories before. Even with the Christmas twist, it’s not original enough to be published.

By Melanie Goldmund

“My cloak is malfunctioning,” Rebekah said, jiggling the controls on her belt. If her personal cloaking device wasn’t working, she’d have to break off the patrol and go back to the ship for a new one. Thankfully, her long iridescent robe disappeared. “No, it’s good now.”

“Keep it that way,” Adam ordered.

They approached the huge domes, the only sign of life on this arid planet, and began to stroll around the perimeter. They’d had to make an emergency landing, desperately searching for a source of talipe to repair their ship, and had found the only deposit uncomfortably close to this alien outpost. Now, everybody who wasn’t involved with the repairs had been assigned to covertly observe the human-like beings while they waited for instructions from Fleet Headquarters on whether they should approach.

“It’s quiet,” Rebekah said. “Maybe they’re observing the Sabbath Day, too.”

“Oh, right, aliens do everything just like we do?” Adam scoffed.

“Look.” Rebekah diverted his attention. A window ahead was hung with small lights of all different colours.

“A decoration?” Adam mused. “No, a child’s toy.”

Feeling bold, Rebekah stopped to stare. On the other side of the window, a child was playing with something on the sill, turning it around to face the outside, and picking up any fallen pieces. It was a kind of three-sided dwelling with a roof suggesting organic grasses, and a star arcing over it. Gently, the child slid animals back into place, and also humans in different kinds of clothing, arranging them around what appeared to be a baby bedded down in a small feeding trough. Rebekah felt a thrill run down her spine.

“Adam,” she said slowly. “Adam, a depiction of the birth of the Saviour!”

“Do you have to bring religion into everything?” Adam peered closer. “Looks like some kind of Family Farm playset to me.”

“The scriptures say the Saviour was born in a stable, and that looks like a stable,” Rebekah countered. “Those four-legged things are definitely animals, and these men with them could be shepherds. And look at these figures on the right. There’s something in their hands, and their costumes look much more opulent than what the others are wearing. Wise men from afar, bearing gifts! There’s even a star on the roof!”

“Rebekah, these are aliens!” Adam protested. “They don’t know anything about your precious Saviour!”

“The Saviour has created worlds without number,” Rebekah countered. “Why wouldn’t their inhabitants know about Him, if He created them, too?”

“Of all the people on board the ship, I get stuck with a Believer!” Adam growled. “Come on!”

There was a buzzing sound from Rebekah’s belt, and her robe flashed into visibility. The child glanced up, and Rebekah caught a glimpse of wide open eyes and mouth. Instinctively, Rebekah jumped away, jabbing at the controls until her cloak faded again.

+++++

Inside the dome, the child ran into the next room. “Mom, mom, I saw an angel, looking at our Nativity set, right here on Mars!”

LDSP Comments: I liked this one. I liked the idea of Christmas being celebrated on other planets. Some of the dialog was a little flat (predictable). It needs to be a developed–but I only gave you a few words so it’s a pretty good start. Publishable? With a little work.

The holidays are coming up and let’s do another contest. I wasn’t going to do one until January, but what can I say? If I don’t have WAY too much to do, then I feel like I’m not doing anything at all.

Rules:
Theme: Unpublished HOLIDAY SHORT STORY, 250 to 500 words. (It doesn’t have to be new writing. You can send something you wrote years ago, but no previously published stories.)

You can submit as many stories as you like, but send only one story per e-mail. (So if you have four stories, send me four different e-mails.)

Paste entire story into an e-mail and send to me.

SUBMIT it any time between now and December 25th.

I will post all submissions.

VOTE between December 26th and December 31st.

Winner will be announced after New Year’s.

Prizes: Reader’s Choice and Publisher’s Choice, both get their choice of any LDS paperback fiction book in print.

Spread the word!

It is the publisher’s responsibility to make every reasonable effort to sell your book. They’ve invested thousands of dollars into producing your book, they are going to do everything they can to get it into as many stores as possible—especially Deseret Book and Seagull. It would be stupid for them not to do so.

Here’s what a publisher can do:
We can send a free sample of the book and promotional materials to the buyer. We cannot force them to open the package or read the book.

We can go to trade shows and put on a dog and pony show advertising your book. We cannot accost them in the aisles, drag them into our booth, and make them listen to our spiel.

We can call them on the phone and talk to them or leave voice mail. We cannot make them talk to us. We cannot make force them to return our calls.

We can try to get a face-to-face appointment to talk to them. We cannot go camp out at their office and hold a hunger strike until they meet with us.

We can send letters, faxes and e-mails. We cannot prevent them from throwing those messages in the trash.

We can offer deeper discounts, special packages or better terms. We cannot use physical force, blackmail them or bribe them into placing an order.

We can run ads targeted to the reader to try to get them into the stores, but those ads are not always effective. (I just spent $250 on an ad that reached a six-figure customer count and it sold 5 books.) We cannot always get your book into Deseret Book or Covenant’s catalogs because those are often “by invitation only.” They are also extravagantly expensive and in my experience, not always successful. (The last DB ad I ran cost $900 and orders did not increase.)

I would guess that your publisher has already done/is doing most of these things. Now it’s just a matter of continuing to do them and hoping for the best. You can only contact a buyer so often before they become annoyed and start avoiding you.

There is very little you can do to get your books into these two stores. Contacting them yourself will work against you. Going into their stores and giving a free copy to the bookstore manager might help, if you’re professional and respect their time. (This means five minutes TOPS!) But it also may not help at all. I have a friend who is a DB manager who loves one of my new books, but DB corporate still hasn’t placed an order.

The best thing you can do to help is to create customer demand for your book. Get a website, blog, develop an e-mail list, advertise your book to the end customer as “available in most LDS bookstores.” If people are interested, they will start going into their local LDS bookstores and asking for the book. (How many friends and relatives do you have that would go into the store and special order a copy?) If enough stores are getting requests for a book, and forwarding those requests to corporate, DB and Seagull will move a little faster to order it.