BlogFest Week4: First 200 words

OK :) In the final week of the 'Gearing Up To Get An Agent Blogfest,' I'm going to post the first 200 words of 'MANAS.' It's a completely bad-ass YA spy/sci-fi adventure, and I'm fiercely proud of it. It's all packaged and ready to sell, I just need an agent willing to take a chance.

Name: Amber Plante

Title: MANAS

Genre: YA sci-fi adventure

Length: 77,000


Here's the pitch:

'Zellie, a prodigy spy with pink hair and a penchant for knitting, is sent to London to acquire Oliver, a smooth hacker with geeky good looks and access to genetics firm Pyxis. Zellie’s link to the ‘Project Manas’ data, hidden within the Pyxis mainframe, sends the pair on a speeding adventure through the bowels of London’s punk underground to romantic Paris streets and murky Venice canals. Can Zellie uncover the missing pieces of ‘Project Manas’ before a rogue agent with murderous intentions catches up?'

Here are the first 200 words. (247, actually -- I didn't want to break up a graph.) (I'm really nervous about this, btw.)

“Any time you’re ready,” I whispered into my headset. “I’m a go on your signal. Of course, I’m comfortable where I am, too, if you’d like to continue taking your sweet-ass time.”

Fifty stories below me, Trey grunted. “Keep your pants on, little one. You’ll get your shot. This isn’t as easy as it looks.”

Through our camtacts – nanobot technology built into contacts – I watched Trey lunge again at the metal backdoor in the subway station. My viewer, attached to my wrist, showed four quadrants with different locations. Each contained a direct link to the rest of my team – Trey, Jace, Marienne and Emerson. Altogether, a deadly quintet.

The reception on Trey’s quadrant fuzzed as he made contact with the rusted metal. “Have you even broken a sweat?” he asked, most of his attention focused on busting down the back door into the building to use as our escape route.

“I am a sniper, not a strong-armed brute,” I said sweetly. I was teasing him, but part of me wanted action, which I wouldn’t get unless something went wrong. Such is the role of the mission lead – boring.

“Never send a woman to do a man’s job.”

“Will you two shut up? You’re interfering with my feed,” Marienne snapped. Our resident hacker, she sat in the café across the street. Through the camtacts, I watched her orange fingernails click across the laptop’s keyboard. “OK, I’m waiting at the gates of the system mainframe. Your word and I’ll get the door.”

Thoughts, critiques, wildly enthusiastic compliments? :) Thank you in advance for every single one (even the mean ones). See you all on the other side of this contest! Good luck, and keep on writing ...

Lemonade, Here I Come.

It's been said (probably just by me) that happiness and compliments don't show you who you are – to truly test your mettle, you need tough times, setbacks and speed bumps. But before you roll your eyes at this seemingly classic 'the poor life of a struggling writer' mentality, I'm talking more about the blocks that are beyond your control.

In other words, how exactly are you supposed to make a tasty summer beverage when those lemons life gave you keep squirting you in the eye? How can you sweeten up news that sour – and, should you even try? Maybe it's a better lesson for us all to slice up that yellow citrus and, sans sugar, give it a big ol' suck.

Because that face? That puckered-lip Renee-Zellweger face? Is pretty much the mask I've been wearing since my agent last week decided (out of the blue) that she no longer wanted to be an agent anymore. And, in doing so, left me dangling with five open-ended submissions to big-name publishers – one so promising it's been dusting my every thought for the past eight weeks – and no direction in which to turn.

Yeah, that's a pretty bitter lemon. But I'm going to be just fine, and here's why:

In college, I was pre-med. It was short-lived and, despite a thoroughly earned B+ in Organic Chemistry, I tweaked my major into the much more interesting forensic anthropology (just like 'Bones') after two years of tedious memorization, pointless labs and slightly-above-average grades in the core subjects that weren't impressing anyone. Bottom line: My college weeded me out – and thank goodness for it. Not everyone is meant to be a doctor.

Similarly, in the world of writing, there are processes in place to weed out writers who just don't have the disposition to cultivate their natural talent (assuming they have it) while entertaining rejections from up, down, sideways and backward. And you know what? Not everyone is meant to be a writer.

But I am.

It took me two and a half years to revise my novel, find that agent-in-the-rough to take a chance on representing the no one from nowhere – all while working full time, writing two other completed novels, raising two kids and getting a hot, delicious, creative meal on the table for Husband and I to enjoy every night.

My determination to become a successful, published author is stronger than that. Though I deserved not even an inkling of this fate -- I can guarantee you that it's not going to be my fate.

So, I'll take those lemon slices, life – and I'll make the most kick-ass drink you've ever had. I'll call it the Zellie Special ... or the Drew Dew ... or the Sundae Surprise. Because it for damned sure isn't going to taste like something made by someone who gave up when she was close enough to smell the freshly published pages of her first novel.

My mettle is stronger than, well, metal (teehee) and to prove it I've broken ground on my fourth novel as of this weekend.

And you can take that right to the lemonade stand.

PS -- for faster updates to this blog and to keep in touch with my daily thoughts, follow me on twitter: @knitonewritetoo

Meet My Newest Tricks and Treats

Halloween is almost here, and while I dread passing out my 3 Musketeers Dark Chocolate Mint bars to all the adorable princess and superheroes (who just won't experience the same enjoyment from those little minty pillows of heaven as your truly), I would like to tell you a real a scary story ...

Imagine, if you will, a girl. She's quirky, cute and highly opinionated. One day, she decides to can it with her snark and try her hand at writing a book -- after all, she can't keep saying 'I could've written that better' when she'd yet to actually try.

So, she writes cet book – and it's not half bad. In fact, it's *so* not half bad that, after 18 nauseating months of cold email attempts (with some shudderingly horrible rejections), she secures an fabulous agent to represent this book to publishers.

(Cue angelic music as sunshine bursts through the clouds.)

But, here's where this story gets scary. Our girl must face down the dreaded nemesis of .... HER OWN IMAGE! Dun-dun-duuuuh!

..... OK. Let's pretend that wasn't so thinly veiled as I reveal this pink-haired lass is in fact me. The climax, though, is absolute fact: I don't know what the hell to do with myself now that I'm sorta kinda half-way to being a published author.

Here's hoping a few paragraphs explaining what I feel has become my MANIACALLY large ego clears up the confusion. But first, from where does all this scary proselytizing stem? Actually, a very happy announcement:

(Cue confetti bursting from cannons in a shower of brilliant, sparkly paper bits.)



MY NEW WEBSITE IS LIVE. http://www.amberplante.com/ is totally open to your viewing pleasure! My fabulous web designer, Shawn Koczarski, has come up with an elegant, playful and clean design that I will be filling with delicious little bits of info about me in the coming months – including playlists of songs that have inspired me, my favorite quotes and, of course, this blog on the homepage.

But back to my slightly awkward explanation: I'm not an expert when it comes to Facebook and Twitter. In fact, as recently as a month ago I was publicly (and professionally) denouncing 'tweeting' as the second coming of the apocalypse. My teetering with social media most likely stems from the fact that I'm shy.

GASP!

No really, I am. I've always prided myself on my ability to exist quite happily *not* in the spotlight. So, imagine the unbelievable burst of pink satin HORROR when I realized there is this whole PROMOTING thing you have to do when you want to be a successful author!

Think I'm being dramatic? Have YOU ever created your own fan page on Facebook and had to have your personal site 'like' your professional one? Have YOU ever created a Twitter feed whilst weighing the simply unbelievable notion that people are going to want to read your posts? Have YOU ever carefully considered how to craft and propagate a professional image for a profession you don't even have yet?

Then back off and let me apologize for seeming like a ego-maniac who is CLEARLY tooting a very large horn that she hasn't quite learned to play.

However, please don't confuse this personality trait with any lack of confidence or arrogance on my part. I'm a true triple writing threat: I'm cute and marketable, I'm clever and intelligent, and I can write better than most people can think. So there.

... I just don't know what the hell I'm doing. :-D And, it's kinda fun being so low on totem pole, knowing that one day I'll look down at these days and think, 'You were such a n00b back then.'

Because, *trust me*: I know I am.

Drive slow and have a safe Halloween with all your tricks and treats ... and here's hoping you enjoy mine!

Hi, my name is... and other introductory info

I'm learning a hard lesson right now -- but one that is not wholly unexpected: Writing isn't the hard part when it comes to getting a manuscript published.

Quite the contrary.

You see, I spent about six months writing my debut work, a awesome fictional novel whose premise I'm not about to divulge online (because it'll get published one day...).

I delighted in the 'brain bursts' that led to multiple pages and witty dialogue, and I wallowed in the problems I simply couldn't solve. I planned my twists and discovered my main villain at about the same time I'd expect a very sharp reader to. To me, my characters became real -- their story more a personal memory of mine that made-up wanderings.

It was intensely fun and self-revealing -- and much easier than I expected it would be, considering all the work that went in to it in retrospect.

You see, I'm not only a novelist -- I'm also a mom of two very young boys, a wife of an exceptional man (and drill-sargent critic) and a full-time employee for leading out-of-home media company Captivate Network. I cook dinner every night, work out three times a week, and participate in leisure activities that include but are not limited to Facebook posts, weekends and nights playing Dungeons and Dragons with my husband and friends, weekly Rock Band 2 parties and, of course, my monthly facials and Friday night knitting group.

It's a lot to take on, but, as Tim Gunn would say, I make it work. I am a trained and naturally gifted writer -- come on, we all have something we're good at, and it's OK to be confident in your attributes. Some would say I border on cocky, but that's debatable.

But... the 'getting published' part. Well, that just has me a little apathetic at the moment, to be honest.

My novel, while very well written and based on a strong story, has garnered more interest than I logically had the right to expect and/or deserve. I am, literarily speaking, a nobody from nowhere who one day decided she was going to write a book.

But, that's not where the story goes bad -- I've actually had quite a bit of intense interest in my novel. It's just that, in the given market, no one is willing to commit to something they aren't wholeheartedly passionate about. Unlike like 99% of writers whose first books go unnoticed by agents and have to resubmit numerous drafts, I've been contacted by *four* separate agencies about possible representation. That's truly amazing and an incredible compliment.

It's just that three out of the four have now declined. After requesting the whole document, I was really thinking the last agent was going to be the one -- because, after all, it only takes one.

That may become my new mantra: It only takes one -- one agent to like it, one agent to sell it and one publisher to buy it.

It's time to keep writing my second novel and, while awaiting word from the last pending agency, keep moving forward.