Query. Query. Query.

Ho hum, the fun part’s done. I’ve finished my book and now I have to find an agent. Or a publisher. What a pain.

Since I know no one in the publishing industry, I have to go the hard route: writing and sending out query letters.

Querying is a formidable task. It’s easy to get overwhelmed with (and intimidated by) all the information about literary agents floating around in books and on the internet.

I discovered two fabulous websites to help with querying.

The first is Query Tracker ( www.QueryTracker.net ). A Premium membership (nominal charge) provides writers with a wealth of information about agents and their respective agencies, i.e., names, contact information, links, affiliations, genres they handle, their submission requirements and on and on. Query Tracker allows you to research agents, save their information in separate files, and track what you have sent them when, whether you’ve heard back from them and what the response was.

You can also use Query Tracker for research and record your contacts with  publishers.

But before you query, you first have to  write that query letter (yikes!). Enter The Query Shark. On Literary Agent Janet Reid’s website, she accepts and critiques online query letters from writers. She’s blunt, ruthless, and shows no mercy. She’s also brutally honest, incredibly helpful, a wealth of  information, and truly funny. Delve into the website, read the information, i.e., the queries submitted and her responses, and you’ll learn tons about how to write a query, what to include in the letter, what agents are looking for, what they hate, etc.  What it also does is help you grow a thick skin, and God knows, we all need help with that.

Here’s the link:  http://queryshark.blogspot.com

Let the bloodletting begin!

Now what?

Okay, now that “Don’t Get Dead” is finished, what’s next?

The hard part begins: getting it published. That means I have to be the publicity/marketing department for my book.  Sell.  Sell.  Sell. 

Why is it so hard?

One reason, physiologically speaking, is because (it’s my belief that) writing and marketing use different regions of the brain. One region serves the creative, artsy fartsy, emotional–writing. Another region serves the analystical, pragmatic, unemotional–sales/marketing.  (While there’s some debate of this, I still believe writers have to engage differenct parts to do different things.) 

Regardless I’ve always found I can’t be creative (writing, painting, etc.) while in the sales and marketing mode, and vice versa. It takes time, sometimes days for me to switch between the two. Which may be why I seem to write in spurts and market in spurts. (I know, I know, you’re supposed to write every day.)

So I’ve spent what seems like eons writing and editing and rewriting and polishing  and rewriting my book.  Now I have to switch over to marketing mode, while at the same time stay in the creative because I’m also working on Number 2 of the Gracie Kinkaid mysteries:  “Out for Blood.”

Why it’s so hard emotionally to market and sell one’s own work is a whole other, infinitely more complex, discussion. Another blog perhaps?

I’m done procrastinating for the day.

Time to friggin’ sell! Sell! Sell!

Excerpt from “Don’t Get Dead”

As promised, here are a few pages from my new novel, “Don’t Get Dead,” the first of the Gracie Kinkaid mysteries. 

Enjoy!

DON’T GET DEAD

 

The body hung upside down in the truck, suspended by the seatbelt, sun-bleached hair hanging straight down to skim the roof of the cab.

Light from the headlamp strapped to Gracie’s forehead merged with the sterile beam of Ralph Hunter’s mag flashlight, illuminating the interior of the crumpled pick-up that lay upside down amid a jumble of rocks and vegetation on the desert floor.

“Well,” Gracie said, “as far as dead bodies go, this one’s in pretty good shape. At least it’s in one piece.”

Ralph grunted in agreement.

Thank God this guy was wearing his seatbelt, Gracie thought. Retrieving body parts always sucked. Big time.

She peered into the heavily shadowed truck interior, able to discern that the victim was male and young, possibly still in his teens. There was little blood inside the cab or on the body itself. “He didn’t bleed out,” she said ripping open the radio pack strapped to her upper body. She picked out a piece of strawberry bubble gum, unwrapped it, popped it into her mouth, then dutifully pressed the wrapper back into the pack.

“Blunt force trauma probably knocked him out,” Ralph said, keeping his voice bland and clinical. “Died from hanging upside down in the seatbelt. Traumatic asphyxia.”

Gracie plucked a pair of purple latex gloves from the radio pack and tugged them on. “First time I’ve seen someone actually die from wearing a seat belt.”

“Dead for sure without it.” Ralph swung the beam of his flashlight over so he could see Gracie’s face without shining it directly into her eyes. “You okay with this, Gracie girl?”

“No,” Gracie snapped. “Yes! I need to be able to do this!”

“Okay then,” Ralph said, obviously taking her at her word. “Let’s open it up.” He passed the heavy flashlight off to Gracie and donned his own pair of latex gloves.

Gracie trained the flashlight beam on the truck’s passenger door as Ralph tugged on the handle. The dented door resisted. Ralph planted a dusty boot on the side panel and hauled on the door with both hands until it opened with an unearthly screech of metal on metal that raised the hair on the back of Gracie’s neck.

Ralph leaned inside the cab and placed two fingers on the carotid artery of the young man’s neck, checking for signs of life.

Gracie silently counted off the seconds until her teammate said in a low voice, “Nothing.”

Ralph wrestled a thin wallet from the back pocket of the dead man’s jeans and held it out behind him. “ID.”

Grabbing the wallet, Gracie backed away from the truck.

Muffled voices and occasional bursts of laughter filtered through the forest of Joshua trees behind her, signaling the arrival of the rest of the recovery team hefting in the litter–the orange plastic basket in which to transport the body.

Unoccupied, the Junkin litter was unwieldy and heavy. Day packs, body bag, daisy chains of woven nylon webbing, steel carabiners and other ropes rescue hardware tossed into the basket weighed it down even further. Another one hundred eighty or so pounds of dead weight would translate into strained shoulders, arms and hands on the way out.

Gracie opened the wallet and zeroed the beam of her headlamp onto the California driver’s license inside. A bright young face smiled back at her.

Shit.

She snapped the wallet closed and shoved it into a side vest pocket.

“Do not feel anything,” she whispered to herself. “Just do the job.” Her eyes slid over to where Ralph was leaning inside the truck’s cab, sifting through papers and discarded soda cans scattered throughout. “Besides, you barf all over Ralphie’s boots again and your ass is grass.”

“Don’t Get Dead” – Pages

Stay tuned to this blog for the first few pages of my new novel, “Don’t Get Dead.”

“Don’t Get Dead” – Women in a Man’s World

As I said in the previous blog, my mother was my first role model for women in a man’s world.

She was president of her local chapter of the League of Women Voters (still an incredibly important organization). She was a city commissioner in the early sixties–the first woman in city history. She was also the only woman on the County Board of Supervisors along with 87 men.

Those were the days of the Jackie Kennedy pillbox hats and matching shoes and purses, when women always wore dresses. We dressed up to fly on airplanes and wore only dresses and skirts to school.

I can remember my mother going off to a meeting wearing a pink suit, a little pink hat with a veil, matching shoes and purse, matching pink earrings and necklace.

She used to complain because at her County Board of Supervisors’ meetings all the men smoked cigars. After every meeting she would have to have her suit dry-cleaned. 

She also told me about how the men’s wives often shunned her because they were afraid she was going to steal them away. I know she enjoyed men’s company, but sleeping with other men couldn’t have been farther from her mind. She enjoyed the politics, the excitement and brainpower.

Mom was strong and outspoken, which some people found irritating. But that never seemed to bother her. She always, always was up for a battle, fighting for what she thought was right and honorable. 

One of my favorite stories: Mom was only 5′3″ tall. One day she was stopped by a passerby on the sidewalk of downtown Grand Rapids. “Are you Mrs. —-?” the man asked. “Yes,” said my mother with some trepidation. “But you’re so little!” the man said. Little in stature. Great in spirit.

Unfortunately it was still the early sixties. My recollection is that she wanted to run for mayor (and probably would have won), but my father, accomplished in his own right, didn’t want to be the mayor’s husband. Sigh.

How many other women throughout history have missed living up to their full potential or been held back by the men in their lives or by the standards of the times?

All you women out there who are reading this and need a little nudge (or a boot in the butt), think about it.

Peace

Happy New Year!

At the risk of sounding like the beauty contestants in “Miss Congeniality?”:

Imagine world peace.

(Do it anyway.)

Outdoor Survival – The Rule of 3’s

If you are ever lost or caught out in the wild–remember the “Rule of 3’s:” You can survive 3 weeks without food, 3 days without water, 3 hours without adequate shelter (in inclement weather), 3 minutes without air.

Let me know what you think is the most important thing to have in a survival situation?   

Read more about it in my new novel, ”Don’t Get Dead.”

Peace

Happy Holidays!

If you’re a writer, published or not, keep writing! If you’re a human being–live your life to the fullest!!

Happy Holidays!!

Peace

Who is M.L. Rowland anyway?

So who the hell is M.L. Rowland anyway?

I grew up in a very conservative town in the midwest. Luckily I’ve shaken off the conservative.

I’ve been a gypsy since my early 20’s. I’ve lived in Hawaii, New York City, St. Petersburg, Florida, Kansas City and Columbia (area), Missouri, and California. I now live in the middle of the Colorado mountains next to a whitewater river with my husband and chocolate lab. I’ve traveled to Mexico, Canada, Alaska, Europe, New Zealand, summered in American Samoa in the south Pacific and gone on a camping safari in Kenya. All of which provide great fodder for my writing.

My parents, now both deceased, were one-of-a-kind and hard acts to follow. My father, in chronological order, was a flight surgeon/paratrooper in China/India/Burma and New Guinea WWII, a neurosurgeon in Michigan, a world-class marine zoologist traveling frequently to the South Pacific, and a medical/missionary to third-world countries including Haiti, Ethiopia, and the Khmer Rouge refugee camps on the border of Thailand/Cambodia. From him I learned a sensitivity and love for the natural world and a sense of adventure.

My mother was the first woman city commissioner the city in which I grew up, a woman’s libber in the early sixties–way before her time. I gained from her a strong sense of justice. She was my first role model of a woman in a man’s world.

From them both I learned compassion for humankind and a need to serve others.

Like I said–hard acts to follow.

“Don’t Get Dead” – Issues, issues, issues

My new book “Don’t Get Dead” addresses and deals with a number of subjects and social issues: search and rescue, women in a man’s world, outdoor gear, etc., the environment, self-esteem, etc. For those of you not interested in women’s issues or women in a man’s world or the environment or wilderness survival, I hope to separate this blog into separate categories. As yet I’m not sophisticated enough in the blogging world to do that. Hopefully within the next week or so. In the meantime, please be patient with this rookie blogger.

Don’t Get Dead – Thriller vs. Mystery

Even among “experts,” there seems to be quite a bit of confusion about what a thriller is. And how does a thriller differ from a mystery?

I’ve heard several definitions, some contradictory.

I heard one definition at a writers’ conference: Mysteries are more cerebral with a puzzle (usually a murder) to solve; thrillers are more action-oriented.

Donald Maass in his great book, “Writing the Breakout Novel,” says that the plot events in thrillers have to accomplish 2 things: they need to be utterly believable and utterly incredible. High stakes are required whether they’re personal or global.

“Writers Market FAQ” by Peter Rubie explains that in Thrillers (and Suspense novels), the protagonist is constantly in danger.

I recently read that it’s a matter of  the “stakes.” Is it a global story involving espionage, the fate of thousands if not millions of people, etc. ?  Then it’s a thriller. If it’s smaller, more intimate, a more confined setting, it’s a mystery.

In Don’t Get Dead, my protagonist, Gracie Kinkaid, faces obstacles on three fronts. Two are physical: the elements (she gets stranded in a blizzard high in the mountains and must keep Will Christian alive with very limited resources) and an unknown killer stalking her and Will for unknown reasons. The third is emotional/psychological–she must battle her own self-doubts. The stakes are constantly raised, then raised again throughout until the final confrontation.

Which still doesn’t solve the problem.  Is “Don’t Get Dead” a thriller or mystery?

My conclusion: Pick one. It’s whatever the person you’re dealing with (agent, editor, publisher) says it is. If they want to label it a mystery, that’s what it is. If they say it’s a thriller, then that’s what it is.

So, for the moment anyway, I’m plugging “Don’t Get Dead” as a mystery.

Any ideas? Suggestions? Opinions?

My Qualifications

So what makes me qualified to write a book about a woman in Search and Rescue?

First, I’m a woman. Hmmm.

Second, I was an active member of a search and rescue team for more than 10 years. I participated in hundreds of search/rescue missions and trainings, and am certified by the State of California in “man tracking.”

Third, I’ve published several magazine and newspaper articles, and have written several screenplays. “Don’t Get Dead” is my first novel.

Stay tuned for more info on Don’t Get Dead, women in a man’s world, writing in general, and Search and Rescue.

“Don’t Get Dead,” a New Book by M.L. Rowland

Hi there!

Just how far would you go to save the life of someone you don’t know?

I’ve just finished my new book, Don’t Get Dead, a mystery about Search and Rescue expert, Gracie Kinkaid. who is caught in a sudden snowstorm in the mountains of Southern California. She has to fight to keep not only herself alive,  but also injured British movie star, Rob Christian. Her teammate has disappeared with the only radio, their food is running out, and the only thing between them and the storm is a makeshift shelter Gracie has built with a sheet of plastic. If that’s not bad enough, Gracie discovers the frozen body of one of Rob’s hiking partner, Tristan Chambers.  She realizes that not only has Tristan been murdered, but the killer is out there in the wild stalking Rob and Gracie.