Another baby step has been taken...

For nearly a year I've worked on a query letter to send to agents.  I've written and re-written every word at least a million times, striving for perfection.  With a fifteen-second (or less) chance to make an impression, my one page must say exactly what I mean in order to hook an agent into selling my idea.  Last night,  I made my last change.  Today, I sent hard copies to three agents on my list who prefer to receive query letters by snail mail. On Wednesday night, I will email seven more letters to the rest of my initial contact list.

And then I wait. Contrary to popular believe, no news is not good news.

I personalized each letter for the individual agent.  I sent this letter to an agent who went to Va Tech and VCU...a homeboy, so to speak!

Dear Mr. McGuigan,


Because Adam Lambert’s vocal range and stage presence rival those of the most legendary performers in music history, many believe these define his talent. The people who knew him before American Idol, as well as those who have come to know him since, maintain that his resilience and fearless authenticity are the gifts that set him apart from other entertainers. It’s the well-spoken, brave, and honest spirit inside the rock star that this authorized biography, MORE THAN JUST A PRETTY VOICE: ADAM LAMBERT FROM THE INSIDE OUT, begs to reveal.

While anyone can compare Adam’s past to his present, only he can share how his response to the significant moments in his life shaped the man we see today. A self-proclaimed open book, Adam refuses to apologize for who he is and believes it’s more respectful to be candid and disliked than pretend to be someone he’s not. It’s exactly this frankness, coupled with his intelligence and wit, which will provide a rich backdrop for the story of his evolution from the weird kid in school to an international celebrity and Grammy nominee. Adam embraced his differences to uncover the person he was born to be and unintentionally became a source of encouragement for many. With the rise in suicide among gay teens and young adults, the world needs his empowering message of optimism, tolerance, and love more than ever.

My serious, concentrated effort to be an author began with a revelation: the way Adam Lambert communicates inspires me so much that I have to write about him. As his fame grows, so does the misrepresentation of his words and actions. Untwisting the truth gives new purpose to my goal of being Adam’s biographer and will utilize my intuitive skills as well as my expertise as a family mediator. Receptive to how others feel, I verbalize what they sense but can’t identify. I show people that a subtle shift of perspective from negative to positive not only widens their point of view, but closes the gap between opposing beliefs so they recognize the common ground they stand on. With a passion that thrills me, I’ve devoted the last two years to learning the craft; I’ve attended conferences, workshops, and classes as well as read biographies, memoirs, and books on writing. I’m a member of the Adam Lambert Fan Club, Adam Official, Bio (Biographer’s International Organization), James River Writers, and a local critique group.

I look forward to working with an agent who respects Adam Lambert as much as I do and envisions the powerful influence of his biography. With your interest in provocative, controversial subjects and experience working with new authors, I hope that agent is you. Please don’t let my B.A. from UVA fool you. I’m surrounded by a family full of Hokies.

Sincerely,

Jody B. Hedstrom

PS
I forgot about this draft post! It's been in limbo since March. I sent the letters as planned and so far have received four written rejections!  In the meantime, I changed the query  to fit the format required for the biography conference I just attended:

More Than just a Pretty Voice: Adam Lambert From the Inside Out

Because Adam Lambert’s vocal range and stage presence rival those of the most legendary performers in music history, many believe these skills define his talent. The people who knew him before American Idol, as well as those who have come to know him since, praise Adam’s resilience and fearless authenticity as rare gifts that set him apart from other entertainers. While anyone can compare Adam’s past to his present, only he can reveal, in this authorized biography, how his response to significant moments in his life shaped the man he is today. A self-proclaimed open book, Adam refuses to apologize for being himself and believes it’s more respectful to be candid and disliked than pretend to be someone he’s not. It’s exactly this frankness, coupled with intelligence and wit, which will provide a rich backdrop for the story of his evolution from the weird kid in school to an international celebrity and Grammy nominee. Adam embraced his differences to discover the person he was born to be and unintentionally became a source of encouragement for many. With the rise in suicide among gay teens and young adults, the world needs his empowering message of optimism, tolerance, and love more than ever.

The story behind the story, from anyone willing to share their first-hand account with me, fuels my love for biography. It's the inside-out version of a life, the how and the why, that intrigues me. With a newly empty nest, my training as a Certified Family Mediator as well as a B.A. in Rhetoric and Communication Studies from UVA join forces with my well-developed intuition as I write about the people who fascinate me the most.

Choice? My Ass!

After a six-month hiatus and a nudge from my critique group, I am posting an update to this blog. It’s not that I stopped writing; I’ve written plenty, just nothing I wanted to share. My last post revealed my deepest, darkest secret and received the feedback I dreaded the most, from the source I respected the most, my writing teacher.


She said, “Wow, your Adam obsession reminds me so much of my Wes Studi era…We both know that the chances of these famous people launching our own artistic dreams are very slim.”

Yes, of course I know.

“…but go ahead and write that novel about a young man who becomes a singer. Or have fun on your blog and explore your dreams and obsession.”

No way. I will write his biography or die trying.

I knew telling the truth would open myself up to ridicule, or worse, pity that I actually believe I will succeed. I know logically it is an unrealistic dream. Please don’t remind me. I know. I do. But try telling that to my heart and soul because they don’t fucking care about realism and logic. They care about what rings true inside.

The idea for this book hit me like a kick to the stomach…literally. When I thought “I want to write Adam's bio from the inside out,” I felt in my gut that I would. I’m not talking about a sweet little fantasy about how it would feel. I physically reacted as if I were actually writing it right then.  I was nervous, excited, determined and sure. I felt overwhelmed as if someone had just called to tell me my proposal had been accepted and I would be writing this book.

Besides stating the obvious, that my chances are slim, the comment that struck the deepest nerve rears its head each time I sit down to write, begging me to set the record straight, so that's what I'm going to do.  I love my teacher and her classes, so I do not mean to be ugly in any way. Her misunderstanding, reflected in the following words, showed me that I have not adequately explained my inner relationship with Adam Lambert: “…explore what Adam has that you want. What about him grabbed you? There are many magnetic, famous people. You chose him. Go inside and own the things you love about him that are already yours. Use it to fuel yourself and give you courage as an artist. Good luck!”

My turn to say wow.

I did not choose Adam Lambert, I promise. And no, he didn’t choose me, either. I did not consciously say to myself, "Oh, hey, why don't I become so interested in an American Idol contestant this season that people will think I'm nuts.  That should be fun!"

My attraction or obsession or devotion or interest or whatever the hell you want to call it just is. The only choice I’ve made regarding Adam is admitting out loud how invested I am. (to be continued)

True Confessions

“Where do you write?”

The man steps in front of me as I make a beeline to the ladies’ room. I shake my head, not understanding a word he says since “I have to pee” drowns out all other thought.

Undaunted, he asks again, “Where do you write?”

I still don't get it.

With more animation than you’d expect, he tries one last time, hand scribbling mid-air. “You know. Write.”

He waits expectantly for my answer and with good reason. I speak English and we are at a writing show, for god’s sake. It just takes a second for his query to click because no one has ever asked me that before.

“Um, my dining room?”

He insists that he recognizes me from somewhere, and maybe he does, but it is definitely not from where I write. Many writers go to Barnes and Noble, Starbucks, Panera, Denny’s, the library, a rented office…anywhere to get away from the distractions of home or to find a place that tells their mind, “this is where we get down to business.” Not me. When I get home from work, the last thing I want to do is go back out again. The simple act of turning on my laptop tells my brain all it needs to know. And if I am free on a Saturday or Sunday, I’m not wasting precious writing time making myself presentable for public consumption or driving somewhere that’s not as comfortable as my home.

I’ve never been the drop-by-anytime kind of friend because I’m too proud to let you see how messy I am. I have a Ph.D. in ignoring distractions. But it’s not just the dog hair on the floor and the dishes in the sink that make me lower the window blinds, lock the door and turn off all the outside lights like I ran out of Halloween candy. At the risk of sounding like an ass, when I’m writing I don’t like to be interrupted. I’ve become very selfish of my free time now that I’m working forty hours a week and if I’m not left alone to get the ideas out of my head and on to the page, I will suffer withdrawals.

I am sitting at my dining room table even as we speak, mustering up the courage to jump into the freezing cold pool of my blog instead of just sticking my big toe in the water. It’s a hell of a lot easier to get the shock over with, to let my whole body adjust to the change instead of torturing myself inch by inch.

So I’m diving in.

Oh, shit, it’s worse than I thought. If I had balls they’d be up inside my body right now.

Adam Lambert:  It’s difficult to admit out loud how much he means to me. If you’ve ever had the pleasure of chatting with me about him, you’ll get why I’m always tempted to do a little damage control afterwards. You tell me I glow when I talk about him. You ask if my passion verges on obsession, if there’s a bit of hero worship going on, if I’ve put him on a pedestal so high he’s bound to fall off and crush me. Okay, maybe you, personally, haven’t said all of those things but I know you’ve thought them and someone else has actually said them.

You probably don’t mean to look at me like I’m delusional or adorably naïve, but you do. And quite frankly, it hurts my feelings. I may backtrack a few steps in your presence to protect my ego, but I’m proud that I let you think what you will. As a recovering people pleaser, resisting the urge to justify my feelings takes more effort than you can possibly imagine.

I’m standing my ground because I know what I know…and what I know is this: I need to get the hell over my embarrassment if I'm ever going to write Adam Lambert’s biography.

There. I said it and I can’t take it back.

And you read it.

As far as I can tell I’m still breathing.

If I say I feel better getting this confession off my chest, that's just me telling a lie.* The truth is the second I typed ‘write Adam Lambert’s biography’, my heart and stomach fled, but with nowhere to go, they flapped in place like birds desperate to escape a locked cage. Maybe I should clip their wings so they’ll settle the fuck down. I don’t know why announcing my dream to you has caused such a commotion. I wasn’t nervous at all when I told the man himself what I had in mind.

I swear to God I'm not making that up. It's the god's-honest truth, as Randy can attest.  It was his idea to start with which makes him the best friend and husband ever, even if he’s the one still giving me the adorably naïve look. 

When I met Adam in Rockford, IL I allowed myself one little internal OMFG flail before striding confidently towards him with my right hand outstretched and my beauty-pageant smile plastered on my face. There was no way I looked natural because where in the natural order of things would I be shaking hands with this sweet-hearted, amazing singer?

I introduced myself, and making the most of my sixty seconds, gave him a business card with my picture and contact information on the front, “writer” printed boldly underneath my name. 

What? I never said published.

On the back of this laminated card I wrote a short note: Adam, the way you live your life inspires me so much that I want to write about the defining moments that influenced & shaped you. I’m interested in what lead up to each experience, how it impacted you & the insight you’ve gained in the process. I envision a biography that reads like a novel with you as the main character. Respectfully, Jody

Adam took the card, flipped it back and forth a few times and said, “Oh. Thank you,” as I launched into my spiel. “I know this may be presumptuous and premature, but when the time is right for your biography, I hope you’ll keep me in mind.”  (Thank you, Marian, for this digital record!)  http://sharing.theflip.com/session/3b298d2063b1b8f38608a38c3bde5eab/video/18111739

Unfortunately there was no quickly signed book deal before my time was up and our picture taken. Good thing I had no expectations for his response. I was more concerned with getting up my nerve to actually say what I said. I considered the act of handing him my pride on a platter the true success.

But maybe I planted a seed…or maybe he took one look at me and thought, “Oh, god, here we go again. Another crazy, middle-aged fan.” Maybe my card went into the trash after the meet and greet was over. But what if it didn’t? What if he’s using it as a bookmark because it's so sturdy? What if I meet him again two or three or five years down the road and hand him the same card and he has a flash of recognition?

What if, what if, what if, how I love you. You keep the dream alive.

Until now hardly anyone knew about the card. I’ve only shared the book idea with a handful of people whose reactions, for the most part, haven’t exactly been encouraging. If you’re the exception, thank you. You know who you are. For the rest of you, no offense, but I read faces and body language like a pro.

I’ve learned over the last year that even published authors fear rejection and need reassurance from friends that they trust. They worry that no one will like what they’ve written, that their well has run dry, that people won’t ‘get it.’ So I’m not ashamed to share with you a text/email conversation I had with my real life** writing partner last night as I debated writing this edition of my blog.

I asked: Will I make a complete fool of myself if I admit my dream book in my blog? It seems ready to come out of the closet.

And she replied:  I don't think you'll make a fool of yourself admitting your dream book. It's YOUR DREAM BOOK. You are being true to yourself. You know how hard that is???? That takes courage, baby!!! You are going to put that out into the universe and something wonderful could happen. Something unexpected, something that can lead you somewhere else! Also, one day, when you write that book, you'll have those writings to look back on, to get inspiration from.

And it's true some people will get it and some people won't. But do the one's who won't, matter??? I say fuck 'em! What would Adam say to those who are negative toward him and his music?

Send it out there with the attitude, this is who I am, this is my dream and I'm going to make it happen.
\
Sending massive waves of POSITIVE ENERGY to you!!!!

Every single one of us, no matter what our passion, needs a cheerleader like you, JoLynn! Thank you for that perfect reply. I hope someday to return the favor.

As for you, gentle reader.  Please do me a favor when you next see me. Keep in mind that it’s my Alter Ego being all bold and ballsy here. I hope to match her bravery in real life someday soon.


*Adam fans will recognize this sentence as an adapted quotation from his song, “Loaded Smile.”


**I have an online writing partner, too, who knows me better than I know myself even though we’ve never met! I’ve learned more about writing from her than any book I’ve read. Thank you, bb!

Welcome to Somewhere, the birthplace of first steps and big-ass dreams.

I walk along my neighborhood’s main drag, literary agent Michelle Brower’s advice stomping around inside my head.  From her query letter workshop yesterday afternoon I learned that new authors are expected to have a platform, a group of people already following their writing. Ten thousand hits a month on a blog is a good start.

Well, shit.  Hello floor, meet my jaw.  

I need to get busy, and fast, but what the hell can I write about that will entice you to read?  I am obscenely fascinated with what goes on inside other people’s minds, call it my little kink if you will. I can only hope that you will be interested in what goes on inside of mine.  While my Alter Ego may shock you, we are one and the same:  She is the me not many get to see.  I’d love to introduce the two of you, here in the relative safety of the internet.

Since this is my very first post, and you are actually reading it, I bet a million bucks you either know me in real life, know someone in my circle of family/friends or my husband paid you to subscribe to my blog.  If you came from somewhere else, then hot damn!  Welcome to the fold.

No matter who you are or how you got here, I worry about what you will think of me as I strip the outer layers from myself until I’m down to my bare ass.   We may have a personal connection and still have to look in each other's eyes after this is posted so as a courtesy to you, here are some rules I will never, never, never, ever follow:

1. No embarrassing stories about, or references to, anyone but me.  

If I don't make examples of the people in my real life, what else have I got?  I have no idea if or when I'll  tell a story with you in it, but I promise it will be in context and absolutely, one hundred percent necessary for the point I’m trying to make.   It will never be mean, just to be mean, but it will be the truth as I see it.  Your truth may beg to differ.

2. No offensive language, gratuitous cursing or taking the Lord's name in vain.  

 My Alter Ego  swears like a fucking sailor. I rarely let her out when I speak but she demands to be heard when I write.  She voices her opinionated self however she likes which means she often makes her point with fuck, shit and acronyms like OMFG or WTAF (check out http://www.urbandictionary.com/ if necessary).  I'm okay with that and fully support the First Amendment.   

Surely there are more rules I need to break.  I must be forgetting something. 

Ah. Right. 

3.  No mention of Adam Lambert.

Pshh.  Like I'd ever agree to that.  I can hear you all now, laughing your damn heads off, aren't you?  That's okay.  My Alter Ego thinks it's hilarious, too, so let's call it even. 

Adam Lambert is the reason I write.  I'd call him my muse but the image that pops into my head of a breezy, sheer, angelic apparition does not work.  I'd rather call him my fuse, which conjures up exciting, electrifying, powerful energy.  That!  That is exactly what he is to me. 

If I haven't scared you off,  I hope you’ll come back to visit.  We can let it all hang out together!  Everyone has to start somewhere.