I’m really please how this came out. Of course practice makes perfect, this is the third snood of this pattern.
I like it.
I see blog posts like this and I wonder where this person was during the snark-storm that was #QueryFail? Yes, #QueryFail was a million internet years ago.
It was my first eposure to Twitter, the sheer volume and vitrol of the tsunami of snark out of the office of her ‘friendly’ literary agents was…shocking?…no…mindblowing?…no…soul-crushing?…closer but not exactly what I’m looking for: Bitter, unprofessional, deliberately humiliating, unprofessional, hateful…ahhhh yes!
So hateful that I vowed at that moment that I would NEVER give one red cent of MY money to such hateful, brutal, bitter, bitchy, wretched unprofessional asshats.
They can put on happy face masks NOW, but the cat is out of the bag. Never, never, EVER will I hire an agent to represent my books to anyone.
I’ll hire a lawyer.
My apologies to Katherine Craft, I suspect she never saw any of the infamous #QueryFail tweets. They have been erased from the twitterverse…alas too late.
The damage is done, there is no reset button. Literary agents are not friendly, idealistic, peacemakers, they’re arrogant snarky bitches. They have been tried, convicted and condemned by the very #QueryFail tweets they sent out with such vitrol.
As for the ‘abuse’ they get from writers freed from their grasping claws…Karma’s a bitch.
by Kathryn Craft
Turning Whine into Gold
In response to a tweet promoting a recent Twitter submission event, I received the following response:
“To put it delicately, f*** the agents and editors. Never pander to what they’re looking for.” (Asterisks mine.)
I would like to thank this “delicate” tweeter. His 92-character comment is so chock full of negativity and cynicism that it will easily power three blog posts here. I delight in the opportunity to turn this kind of whine into gold.
Since it is conference season, this month I’d like to address this tweeter’s obvious assumption that agents and editors are “those who are trying to keep him from publication.”
If you suspect this is true, yet are still planning to pitch to these individuals at upcoming conferences, your hidden thoughts are simply abrading twitchy nerve endings in a way that could result in hives the moment…
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Yesterday from 3pm to 7pm we went to the Elizabethtown Second Saturday street fair.
As it is early in the season, there weren’t a whole lot of people around, but we were set up in front of the Heartland Whole life Buying Club which helped us alot. I talked to some knitters about my yarn and enjoyed being outside and with the Hubster.
I sold the beautiful snood, which paid for our lunch.
I’ll have more yarn to sell next month.
I held my annual cookie bake last week. I love to bake, but I don’t always want to eat the stuff I bake. So I invite over some girlfriends to bake a ton of cookies, and I give the cookies away.
This year, things were a little rocky around the edges, for one thing, I’ve been battling an abcessed tooth since the first of December. So my energy levels are pretty low. So this wasn’t as big of cookie swap party as I’d originally planned.
But a funny thing happened that day…one of my projects ‘grew legs’ and vanished from the house. It was a crocheted hat, made from chestnut and white llama yarn. Not a major project, but it was made for a specific person, who is sensitive to wool.
I know I have gremlins…one in particular has lived with me for a very long time. He takes my car keys and various items, but he’s always given them back when I ask.
I try to leave bits of food out for him, but he’s got to get them before the dogs do. The Irish leave saucers of milk out for the leprecauns, to keep the mischief to a minimum. I’ve heard that it works with ghosts, too, if anyone has problems with ghosts, try leaving them a bit of coffee or something.
But I digress.
I’ve searched my entire house. I’ve searched the baskets where I stash all my finished and unfinished projects. We even looked as we cleaned the house, to see if the dogs had taken off with the hat. There’s no sign of it, though I found the extra yarn I spun on the drop spindle, right where I’d last seen the hat.
Fast forward two months – that’s right, it took me two months to find the missing project. However I’ve found it and I KNOW the gremlin took it. Little beast hid it at the bottom of the finished pile.
Yesterday I got a little worried when Bashful didn’t eat his grain, for the second day in a row. I’m still getting used to ‘the llamas’ (yes they are alpacas, but for some reason we always call them llamas.) I contacted SELR (Llama Rescue) for advice.
Bless Debbie for getting right back to me. She told me what to look for and recommended a shot of antibotics in case it was a respertory infection and deworming.
This morning, I offered him some grain, which he nibbled. But he went to the hay bag with real enthusiasm when I put a section of alphalfa hay in it. Bingo! I also watched as he drank deeply.
I checked his eyelids and gums for color. The color was a nice deep pink. His breathing sounded fine. There was a bit of discharge from one eye, but not enough to call unusual.
Just to make sure, I gave him the antibotics. I had a hard time finding skin under all that hair, but I figured it out. Then I let them go outside for a few hours of grazing.
He came in with an appitite! Shoved his little nose into the hay bag and vanished up to his little ears! He still didn’t touch the grain. So, just to be on the safe side, I dewormed both of them.
Grumpy gave me a fight, of course, but it seemed more of a token protest compared to the first time I worked with him. That was a rodeo, let me tell you! He makes a lot of noise, but doesn’t spit on me. It took three tries to get the medicine in his mouth, but I got it done.
I used the least amount of force to get the job done, just like I do with the horses. When a critter doesn’t fight me, I take all the pressure off immediatly as a reward. It works much better than you’d think it would.
I’m going to keep an eye on Bashful. When I left the barn he’d shoved his head back into the hay bag and only his ears were showing. When he came out to breath, he had a mouthful and seemed happy.
I’ll check on him again tomorrow and see how he’s doing, of course.