Really, February? It’s the third already? It’s a conspiracy against Black History Month, I’m sure. (Gets bored with theory and wanders off.)
Oh, how unexpected are the twists and turns. As you know, this is not my journal, so I won’t be outlining every aspect of …anything. But, for instance: I’m reading about the Christian Booksellers Association (CBA) at length and looking for a literary agent who is able to sell both Christian and general market (literary) fiction. While it shouldn’t surprise you that I’m a Christian (otherwise, there’s something very wrong with my presentation of myself), this is a shocking turn of events even for me. Yes, I thought: one day, when I write a particular novel (a dark and spiritual story for which I woke up one day and wrote out the entire outline…which is also a strange development, meaning it’s not the way I operate), then I’ll worry about Christian publishing. But that’s sort of like when you say, I’m going to tour the bridges of Madison County. Real as the intention may be, it is anything but imminent. I was in the middle of working on a short for my collection On Privilege (and was lurving it, I might add), ready to hear word about the Bellwether so that I can take my next steps with Anagnorises (yes, yes, the title has changed but I can’t stop using my nickname for it) and was generally not preparing to return to the spiritual novel until way down the road. So, you see, I would have no use/need for a Christian literary agent. Which is to say, a literary agent working primarily with Christian publishers. There’s no reason s/he couldn’t be Christian and it have less to do with the marketing of her/his clientele.
Then that Unsinkable Molly Brown of a YA novel I wrote ten years ago – the book that has, for the record, been unintentionally deleted TWICE now – started morphing. Well, to be fair, first I had to revisit her. (This would be Callisto’s Charm, of which I’ve made more recent mention.) She was written for my sisters and sister-friends way back in the day and was the one novel I knew would never see the shelf of a stranger. I. Don’t write YA. Why would I go back in time and want to work on publishing old YA? Come now. Anyway, here comes Caitlin, thereby planted is the seed, sudden showering of attention (that’s me to Callisto, btw), delicious flow of progress and appreciation for how the process differs from my other work creating a new sheepish willingness to accept my abandoned firstborn (that imagery is disturbing even to me), sudden stagnation due to spiritual quagmire, here comes Jordan (to whom I wish I had a link but the girl is committed to her distance from the interwebz – suffice it to say, between she and Cait, I had something old, something new… and, wow, would Jordan hate that I just said that, as she’s less than six months older than me and feels she has one foot in the grave…where were we…) – right, here comes a question from Jordan (…a word spoken in due season, how good is it!), therein is the quagmire resolved and reborn is Callisto. To be honest, she is left primarily intact and her companion is born.
That is good on so many levels. (By the by, her first chapter name is the title of this entry.) Back to the story at hand. About whose purpose I’m beginning to wonder, so we’d better hurry it up. Anyway, the place we are now is that I am excited to share it with a particular agent – whose blog has proven an awesome resource for writing in general, which I’ve followed since before the night of the uncharacteristic outlining of aforementioned spiritual novel. When that arose, I thought: cool. Perhaps someday I will have a reason to query her. And twist of turns, here is that day – ahead of schedule and completely unrelated to the intentional writing of Christian fiction.
Except that she’s not fielding queries for YA. Which works out great since I don’t write it, right?