So that’s what the agent who was critiquing an excerpt from
a book of mine said to me, with a grimace on her face. An actual grimace. I kid you not! The expression on her face was that of a
person who’s just stepped in something particularly nasty, or the look of a
Prius owner as they ‘put put’ along while I roar by in my big, gas-hogging, planet
destroying non-hybrid SUV. That kind
of expression.
I wasn’t angry. I was
hurt.
Why, you might ask?
After all, she was a well-respected agent giving good, and I might add,
paid-for advice to a wannabe writer who needs lots of help. Here’s the deal. She was talking about a character named Rosemary,
and I realized that in a way, Rosemary is me.
No, I didn’t go to France as a teen, pretending to be
someone I’m not and scheming for a way to convince my host family to keep me
forever. I don’t have a severe
communication disorder that prevents me from talking clearly, like Rosemary
does. But as a teen, I did have a lot of
the same hang-ups that Rosemary had. I
was shy. Painfully so. So shy, in fact, that life was torture for
years. If you’ve never been that shy, you
probably won’t understand where I’m coming from. Let me just say that jumping “head first into
a swimming pool full of double-edged razor blades,” to quote Weird Al, was
always preferable to walking into a room full of strangers, better than being
called on in class, and I prayed for
illness or calamity to befall me if I ever had to give a speech. It wasn’t simply a problem with public
speaking, either. I could hardly look
other kids in the eye as I walked down the hall, and sometime didn’t respond
when spoken to. That went on for many,
many years. Neurotic? Oh, yes.
The excerpt this agent critiqued for me included scenes that
demonstrated just how socially awkward Rosemary was. She was alone with a boy for the first time
EVER, attracted to him and desperately wanting to flirt, but fully aware of the
fact that as soon as she opened her mouth, her words could very well come out
wrong. Also, keep in mind that Rosemary
was fleeing a situation that I would describe at the very least as emotionally abusive. She’d truly never been left alone before,
even for a moment. What would YOU do in
such a situation? You’d likely develop a
few hang-ups and be, shall we say, a little NEUROTIC, wouldn’t you???
I guess I was hurt because I know what it’s like to be the
freak. I know what it’s like to hear
other kids whisper while casting glances and smirks in your direction. I know what it’s like when you so badly want
to say something witty and clever and funny, but all you can manage is a vague
smile while you turn away, mentally kicking yourself for not talking to the
cute guy, the great girl that you wish would be your friend, or the awesome
teacher who’s trying to reach out to you.
So, back to Rosemary.
Agents have expressed interest, but not enough to represent me. At least, not yet. But I’m still trying. And, I’m trying hard not to take things
personally, to think that I’m the one being rejected on a personal level when
it’s my writing, my characters, or maybe just the fact that agents don’t think
there’s a market out there right now for what I’ve written.
And, I will continue to create characters who are
neurotic. That’s what I am, and it’s
what I do. J
No comments:
Post a Comment