So, it’s time for Pitch Wars again!

Pitch Wars is this awesome writing contest hosted by Brenda Drake, and it helps aspiring authors like me make connections with agents, and agented writers, and *gasp* actual, real-live published authors…

Did I mention I’m really into tumblr now, for my Prince Hans fanfiction needs, so I’m starting to experiment with this animated gif thing? Anyway…

So, last year, my incredible friend and fellow writer Gayleen suggested I enter Pitch Wars. She’d been selected as an alternate before, which was huge. I didn’t think my chances would be that great – I mean, I love my stuff but I wasn’t sure about the query, and that was part of the entry. But I figured the worst thing that could happen would be not getting chosen. So I entered the query and opening for THE LAST LETTERBOXES.

And then I spent A TON of time working on CANDID DATES to keep my mind off things. (And also obsessively following the mentors I’d submitted to on twitter, trying to determine which, if any, tweets were about me.)

Amazingly enough (I still have a hard time believing it), I was picked as an alternate by the wonderful Evelyn Ehrlich. I got to work with her, along with Laurie Flynn and Emily Martin, and it was a fantastic, perfect experience from beginning to end. These ladies are seriously, seriously awesome, and I’m honored to even be included in their super-cool circle.

THE LAST LETTERBOXES ended up getting SEVEN manuscript requests from agents in the alternates’ showcase. One of the agents who read it said she read my book through in one setting and cried twice, although she felt it might work better for a friend of hers, who she passed it on to. Another hasn’t gotten to it yet…so it’s still out there. It’s all good.

Plus, I got to meet a lot of incredible people through this. As an introverted writer, finding other writers to relate to has been nothing short of stellar. I get to see their successes…Evelyn had a beautiful story published in a literary magazine, Laurie and Emily both got amazing agents, and Emily’s debut novel has been sold and is coming out in 2016!

And…I’m still…waiting. And writing. Always writing. And I’m so FREAKING HAPPY for my #TeamEvelyn sisters but ugh the WAITING.

So I totally wasn’t sure if I should enter again. I mean, I was selected last year, but the competition is so stiff. Could lightning strike twice? And…should I even enter again? Maybe it would be better to leave it to the rest of the writing community. Maybe it would be weird to do it again. I didn’t know what to do.

But Evelyn encouraged me to give it another shot, since I had another polished manuscript. And I do so love CANDID DATES. Sharing it makes me really happy. Anyway…just like last time, what’s the worst that can happen? Not getting picked? I can live with that.

So. I studied all the mentor bios. I narrowed it down to the ones that accepted Young Adult. Then the ones who were looking for contemporary. Then…I just had to pick four and live with my choices. I did that last year and it worked out spectacularly!

So now it’s back to stalking the #pitchwars tag on twitter. Good thing I have Frozen fanfiction to write and my new novel to work on. Oh, and a house to run and kids to teach and all that. Riiiight.

Yeah. Mostly just waiting for that dream to come true.

Just pretend this turned out better than it did. I always do.

So…Thursday. And I said I’d do a review every Wednesday. I totally forgot about it until just now.

I do have the very good excuse of terrible allergies slash editing, but…

Anyway. I still have more editing to do, so I’m gonna have to just fail this week and come back with a bang next Wednesday. Right.

I think that the most interesting thing I’ve developed after getting seriously back into creative writing is my observational skills. I don’t know if I always saw things and forgot, or I didn’t even notice before.

Take today, for instance. I went to Walmart, yay. (No, really. Ugh.) So I bought some food and stuff, and found the best looking check-out line (almost…the shortest line was the tobacco check-out line, but I always feel vaguely guilty to be clogging that one up when the smokers only get that one if they’re buying) and I made small talk with Carol-the-cashier and moved my bags to the cart.

The cashier behind me (the cigarette line guy) said something to his customer about putting something in the buggy. I considered that, thinking about how I always say cart instead of buggy, and wondering if he was from a different part of the country. Swiped the credit card, got receipt (have a nice day-you too), smile, roll on.

Carefully steered the cart back toward the entrance. Almost had a traffic issue near the water fountains, when a man was squeezing past me on the left while a woman was trying to pass on the right. I stopped. Excuse me. Neither of them said anything in reply.

And then, I saw him. The guy. A young man. A stubbly dark brown beard – the kind of beard that is shaved on the top and the bottom, so it’s a narrow-ish line. Lighter stubble above and below the line, so he wasn’t religious about it or anything. Dressed casually. Jeans. Black hoodie. Hiking-style leather boots.

He was using one of those courtesy Walmart sanitizing wipes to clean the handle of his cart. Or buggy. The carts have this little ridge on them in the handlebar, on the plastic, and he was carefully using his thumb to clean the dip in the ridge.

I walked past, my eyes taking in everything as I turned toward the door.

Excuse me – my voice automatically said to the woman coming in the exit door, looking at me as if I was committing a crime to push my cart out the same way she was coming in. She said nothing in response.

Whatever. Still thinking about the guy.

He was young, cute, casual. What’s his story?

I don’t even use those wipes most of the time. They’re such a smart idea – don’t pick up everyone else’s germs along with the stuff you actually want to get – but I’m pretty lazy, and stopping to get a wipe is kind of a big deal. Plus you might have someone behind you, and holding up the line is a no-no. And what do you do with the wipe when you’re done? Usually the trash can is all full. I’ve dropped them in the bottom of the cart before, but that’s also less than an ideal situation.

So. The GUY. In my experience, guys aren’t even that concerned about germs, or being more than relatively clean. Wiping a cart seems like such a fastidious thing for a casually dressed guy to do.

I’m putting the bags in my car, sniffing to keep my nose from running in the bitter wind, when I think about what a fantastic tiny character trait wiping a cart would be in a novel. What an ideal way to show a little something about somebody – and the things it could mean! Is he a germaphobe? Just getting over being sick? Maybe he’s OCD. Maybe someone he loved died from some sort of communicable disease.

Maybe none of those. Maybe the handle just felt sticky. But if so, why not just get another cart? That opens up a whole new realm of ideas.

I think that before, I might have noticed this guy, but I wouldn’t have ended up dragging the idea of him home with me, obsessing over him, and tucking him into my mental file of things that are definitely going to end up in one of my stories.

I freaking love this.