The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox

Life is not long enough if there continue to be novels like this.

Joy

I almost can't describe the degree to which I love The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox. I love books regularly -- in just the last three weeks I've devoured Finn and The Secret River and The Monsters of Templeton. I've loved moments in each of them. Characters. Narrative verve. But I haven't wholly and utterly fallen for a novel the way I have for Esme in a long time. Here's what I wrote on goodreads.com.

6/20/08 I've only dipped my toe into the still, warm waters of this novel, but I'm thrilled. By the simple, realistic, yet stunning concept, and by the incredibly fine-tuned prose. You can see everything.6/23/08Now I'm hurting because I've passed the halfway mark and cannot stand the thought of finishing. I've actually found myself slowing down, not reading another section, pulling away, so as not to miss a thing, or let it move to fast. I'm absolutely in love.6/24/08And the twist I can't bear, wasn't expecting, and somehow knew must happen has arrived. I jaw literally dropped agape. I could not love this novel more. And the fact that I have only 35 pages left makes me want to cry.

This Week

Another mid-week without word from any of the four agents, or the editor at my old publishing house, who are considering my new novel.

It's a mixed bag, this lack of response. One one hand, there is a relief that comes with silence--a cessation of anxiety, a freedom to dream of new stories, new projects, new work. On the other hand, it's too easy to wonder what it all means. Is the manuscript being read carefully? Or have some agents read it, and are considering thoughtfully whether to take me on? Or, has it been considered and discarded, leaving me in limbo evermore?

Luckily, I'm not as dramatic as all that, but I do wonder when, and what, I'll hear about The Tree Museum. Is it going to find a life outside my computer and the kind hands of friends? Do I dive back into it and refresh it in the hopes of sending it back out, or do I let it sit, and let it go, and instead discover just what Nina (a new character) is going to do with Peter (her best friend's husband) after all?

That certainly feels more titillating than all this sitting around.

Raised Pinkies and the Brains

OK, that title is a stretch, but I'm currently bemused by the recent scientific finding that proves, somewhat definitively, that the brains of homosexuals are different from heterosexual brains. It's a neurological study, not psychological, so it really is the brains we're talking about, and what's been found is that -- for certain brain structures -- the male homosexual brain is closer to a female heterosexual's than to its straight male counterpart. (Try writing this without constantly reusing the same few words!) Similarly, the heterosexual male and lesbian brains are in many ways alike.

What does this prove? Perhaps nothing, but perhaps quite a bit. More and more evidence is confirming that "gay" is inherent rather than learned.

Which begs a few questions: Does this mean people will someday be able to select for (or, more likely, against) the 'gay' gene? Does this mean that hormones present in the womb are "to blame"? (Or to applaud?)

And why, selfishly, does this just seem to confirm that there's a reason I was always most comfortable working for, and with women? That I was a fundraiser, and am now in communications, and can't conceive of accounting or business or sports? It's not my emotive mother and sister? It's not the fault of the divorce?

So, no real revelations here, except that who I am is who I've always been, which I could have told you from my toddling memories of rapturous adoration of the male lifeguards at the pool.
But it is somehow comforting to know that if we are born this way, we are inevitably part of God's plan. That does feel good.

And hopefully will help sway some of those "God's-plan"-ers who have such a hard time with the homosexuals in their midst.

Six Down

So the rejections just keep coming. It's hard. I won't lie--I knew this novel has flaws, but I also feel it has a lot going for it. I still believe that, and the rejections I'm receiving seem to confirm it.

Most of the agents seem to be reading it through to the end, and more than a few have sent me very thoughtful, constructive comments. Now if only one would sign me on!

Luckily, I've got a few days between jobs (leaving the Chesapeake Bay Foundation, joining Conservation International) and I can make some important revisions to the plot and depth. I think the novel needs to be richer, with a clearer focus. Perhaps six equally weighted characters isn't what this novel needs. But is it two? Three?

But he don't fall down.

OK, I rallied. Found three new agents last night, two with whom I can establish tenous (even not-so-tenuous) connections, and will spend tomorrow morning sending queries to them all. This novel is good, and it is true to me. I am not a snide, smartypants, Brooklyn whiz kid. I write caring novels about good people in tough situations. The kind of love to read. I have to believe that others might too. Stand up, dust off, walk tall. Happy Monday, all.

Weeble Wobble

Tonight I received my first rejection. This newest round of showing my neck is in service to my new novel, The Tree Museum, for which I've just sent a round of 8 query letters to agents. Two agents--as I knew they would, due to friendly author connections--agreed to read it. To my stomach-churning joy, a third agent emailed on Friday morning saying she'd like to read it as well. Tonight, she said "No."

It's hard. I mean, I'm well aware that this life of mine requires a thick skin, and I think I have one--I told Matt that I'm like a weeble wobble where rejections are concerned. Even a short one like I received tonight--friendly, but curt--can be considered a blessing if I twist and turn it long enough. But it still hurts. This novel--every novel every dreaming novelist writes--is a precious, precious thing. It hurts to have it turned away.

So I'll seek out more agents (there are still 7 great ones in play) and send more queries, and keep believing in this novel, for as long as I can. And if I stop fighting for it, I pray it will be to make way for the next one. I've got some ideas. I don't stay down.