Not so fast...

Well, I didn't make it into Round 2 of the #PitchMadness contest, but that's okay.  My MS (manuscript) is still out with an agent right now from whom I'm waiting to hear.  If she rejects it, I might just shelve SEVENTEEN until I have time and energy to work on it some more.  It's disheartening to have to say it, but I have to do the logical thing.  If I send it out to 60+ agents and none of them seem interested, then that speaks for itself.

On a completely different note, it's been interesting for me to analyze the reasons why I want to publish this novel.  Is it because I want "fame?"  Do I just want a creative career?  Do I want a way to make money?  If I'm totally honest, I would say it is a bit of all three of those things, though I'm really not big on the idea of fame.  Perhaps understanding why I want to publish this book will help me deal with the seemingly endless amounts of rejection that I've encountered. 

When I speak with someone about my novel, I'm pretty quick to say, "My ideal option would be to have the book published as the first in a series and then to write for a career while I stayed home and raised our children."  We don't actually have children yet, but I tend to think ahead about that sort of thing.  And staying home to write does sound wonderful, but is that how I would best serve my family and even more importantly, is that how I would best serve Christ?  For those who don't know me, I try to let my faith rule my life and decisions, and most of the time (when it comes to little things), His will is obvious.  But as for my career?  I have spent the last four years trying to uncover His plan is for me.  I've been waiting to find out ever since I received my Master of Education to teach history, and still I'm clueless.  Many tears have been shed over this.  I haven't found a teaching job, and writing doesn't appear to be working out.  So now I'm just sort of treading water.  At this point, I really don't care where He leads me, nor what He wants me to do.  I just want to go there and do it.  Whatever it is.  I want His will to be done, not my own.  My own will would be what I mentioned above, about staying home and writing and raising a family.  But what if that isn't God's will?  Then I need to be okay with that, even if it hurts and stings to realize it.  My faith and my life is in God's hands.  I'm so tired of getting my hopes up only to have them crash again.  It's exhausting.  Then again, the more broken I feel, the closer to Christ I feel, and that cannot be a bad thing.

After a fairly mentally/emotionally brutal day yesterday, I decided to take a few minutes after the students left to turn towards Psalms for guidance, and my eyes landed on Psalm 51.

"O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise. For you will not delight in sacrifice, or I would give it; you will not be pleased with a burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise." Psalm 51, 15-17.

I guess with this in mind, it's not such a bad thing that I'm feeling slightly broken and in need of Him today. I'm so thankful for God's sovereignty and grace, and I will try to continue my patient wait for his guidance.  It's the only thing that I can really do, anyways, so I might as well do it.  And just to clarify - it's not that we have not been blessed or that we have not been provided for.  We have more than we need, even on a teacher's salary, and for that my heart cries out with joy.  Maybe that's what I should focus on in the end.  God has provided for us despite my selfish desires.  And maybe I am exactly where He wants me - waiting - so that my patience and faith can grow.  When I put it that way, it doesn't seem so discouraging.  It actually seems kind of nice.  Nothing that brings me closer to Christ can be all bad, anyways, now can it?

#PitchMadness Entry

Happy Spring... almost!  It's been a while since I've updated the ole' blog, mainly because I've been teaching geometry for the last couple of weeks.  Certified history, but teaching geometry... weird, right?  Anyways, last Friday marked the beginning of a somewhat crazy contest called #PitchMadness.  It is exactly what it sounds like.  Basically, anyone with a completed manuscript is able to email their pitch into the contest with the hopes of having their submission posted for agents to peruse within the next couple of weeks.  I, along with 350 or so of my closest... friends?... yes, friends, entered.  And because there is a new hashtag floating around Twitterland that allows other people to see your entries and comment on them, I decided to post my submission on my blog.  So, without further ado, here it is:

Title:  SEVENTEEN

Genre:  YA Fantasy

Word Count:  75,000

Pitch:  Hunted by the same children he wants to save, teenaged August has a major case of fight or flight.  Should he flee to ensure a future with Elisa, or sacrifice himself and challenge the Foundation?

Excerpt: 

CHAPTER ONE

And Saul said to David, Thou art not to go against this Philistine to fight with him:
for thou art but a youth, and he a man of war from his youth.

1 Samuel 17:33

Through no earnest intention of his own, August found himself awake and staring up at the network of rafters that weaved across the ceiling above him, joined together by the lacy netting of cobwebs and dust. The harsh, metallic clanging of bells rang to his right from the far end of the building, and even though he wanted to remain beneath the wool blanket that warmed him in an otherwise cold and sterile room, his body forced itself upright until his bare feet rested against the grit of the grey, concrete floor. Around him, other boys of various ages performed the same motions with almost identical timing and execution, except that they proceeded to stand when their feet hit the ground whereas August did not. For some reason, he hesitated, as if unsure whether or not he was still dreaming.

He ran his fingers through his short, dark hair and squinted his eyes as though he were trying to retain a dream that had ended without warning. Unfortunately, he could not remember anything, and he looked around the room hoping for a word of guidance or reassurance from his neighbors. They did not respond, nor did they even so much as acknowledge his existence. Instead, the boys changed clothes as part of a strange choreography that August had witnessed thousands of times but never really noticed. 

_________________________________________

Okay, I know that I shouldn't have used a rhetorical question in my pitch... I'll call that a work-induced brain fart. But there it is, folks.  It's been two years in the making, and I hope for some good feedback on it.

And thanks so much to the hardworking people who have made #PitchMadness possible... I know that was a ton of slush to go through, and regardless of whether I made it into the final round, I thank you for your time and consideration!