Nikki Loftin

Archive for September, 2009

Story in Boy’s Life!

Okay, I know. Two posts in one day? Excessive.

But I had two pieces of good news today! First, I sold another puppet play to another anthology, this time to a holiday-themed book. It will be out in early 2010. Great, right? But then….

I had a short story accepted by Boy’s Life magazine! This is a 1,000-word story called Facing The Panthers, about a fifth-grade soccer team learning to deal with their fear (abject terror, more like!) of the most notorious team in their League. My favorite part? The riff on the Litany Against Fear from Frank Herbert’s Dune.

My brother Ryan is going to love this one. We memorized that Litany as teens, and used to recite it to each other at appropriate moments. I think the last time was when I called him over to my house (in my single days) to help boil my dishes clean. Ah, good times.

Nothing Like a Good Book…

What a day! No details, but it was NO FUN until… I got home, walked right past all the dirty dishes and the enormous mounds of laundry, pulled two of my own gigantic homemade chocolate chip cookies out of the freezer, read an email from a sweet editor letting me know that another one of my puppet plays has been accepted for another anthology (this one’s a holiday one) and then I opened up a new book… Al Capone Does My Shirts, by Gennifer Choldenko.

You know that feeling you get when you start reading a really good book, and you race through chapter one, two, three, and realize you CAN’T STOP it’s THAT good? Well, I have kids to pick up, so I have to stop. But I know what I’m doing tonight. And it ain’t the laundry.

Thanks, Ms. Choldenko! You saved my day.

Ten Years Later…

Ten years ago today, I ended the longest day of my life — 23 grueling hours of unmedicated back labor — with a plea for an epidural (which made both my mother and husband burst into tears of gratitude for ending my own suffering and theirs) and a few hours later, the birth of my son, Cameron.

That was when my life as a mother began.. and my dreams of writing were in large part deferred. My kids were never the kind to sleep quietly while I wrote. They mostly screamed, and made enormous, staining messes, and when they got old enough fought with each other. I call this part of my life The Decade of Maternal Bitterness.

But this morning, as I shipped Son Number One and his little brother off on the bus to school (yes, he wanted to ride the bus on his birthday — he got a new DS -i he wants to show off) I realized I owed the entire past year of writing success to him. Not only have I written and published multiple essays about the “joys” of parenting, almost every character that pops into my head for my middle-grade books is based very closely on him. If you’ve read my work, you know this means I have a child similar to Raymond Mahaney running around loose in my house. Pity me.

My mom used to say, “Someday you’ll look back on this and laugh.” It’s true. Writing about Raymond/Cameron, I do laugh, a lot. Now.

But ten years ago, if you said that to me, I would have smacked you with a dirty diaper. Gotta love perspective.

Happy Birthday, Cameron! And thanks for giving me enough material to make a career.

Do Your Characters Pray?

I’ve been thinking a lot about the role of religion in genre fiction, and more specifically its role in the fiction I write.

I spent most of the last ten years working in churches. I went in a 3/4 time Christian (don’t ask), and came out a 100% God lover who drags her kids to church every Sunday, usually kicking and screaming. I tell them it’s character-building. Check this out: my sweet Hinky-Punky on Sunday. (He’s the one in the front row center, picking his nose.)

I’ll admit, we DO go to one of the most liberal churches in town. (It rocks: Central Presbyterian Church.) For crying out loud, I’m married to a Scottish guy (um, socialized medicine, anyone?), so it had to be Presbyterian and left-leaning.

I’ve written plenty of Christian-ish essays. But now, I’ve noticed the God stuff creeping into my fiction. I wondered if any other writers had the same concerns, and then today I saw this. Anyway, I spent some time editing out some passages that I thought went too in-depth into a character’s mind re: God, even though the views he was espousing were not, um, particularly in line with Christian doctrine. I just thought: Would this passage alienate my kids’ friends? (The atheist ones.) I stopped cutting when I was able to say no.

Maybe someday I’ll go ahead and write that book, the one that weaves God in without worrying about who’s watching… but not today. Comments?

The Query

Howdy, writer peeps!

Okay, for all of you who are wondering “just what kind of query gets you a free scholarship to a NYC conference?” — here ya go.

FYI, I broke two of the cardinal rules for queries on this one: I was the only one to see it before I sent it (um, I wrote it rather quickly), and I put a cliche in on purpose. Kind of a query in-joke, which is a complete no-no. See if you can spot it, and leave a note in the comments. (It’ll be easy. It’s on the Top Ten Instant Rejections for Queries list. I guess the agents at Fineprint have finely honed senses of humor, thank goodness.)

Oh, and no, I do not yet have representation for this novel… anyone want to see my full? (wink, wink)
Dear Ms. Lindsay:

Habitual liar and recent fifth-grade graduate Cameron Blakeley would like above all else to remain cootie-free, spending his summer in front of the television or, better yet, the computer monitor. But when he tells a whopper at the end-of-school dance, he gets caught up in his own lie, and his mother signs him up for the worst torture imaginable: Comportment Camp.

Forced to spend his summer days practicing small talk and the foxtrot with cootie-ridden girls and a rich kid named Henry whose pet project is destroying Cameron’s reputation, Cameron finds himself making a most unusual friend: a dress-wearing, chicken-dancing girl named Estelle. Then Cameron, driven to the edge by Henry, humiliates Estelle in front of the whole class. Their friendship is destroyed. Or is it?

Cooties be darned! Cameron enlists his mom, dad, and every one of his friends in his plan to get revenge on Henry and make amends with Estelle. It will take all his skills as a liar, vandal, mischief-maker and ballroom dancer to win back Estelle’s friendship.

Escape From Comportment Camp is a 34,000 word humorous middle grade “boy book.” I am seeking representation, and your agency is at the top of my list. The full manuscript is available on request.

In addition to membership in the SCBWI and the Writer’s League of Texas, I hold a Master of Arts in Fiction Writing from the University of Texas at Austin, 1997. I won the Writer’s League of Texas 2009 Manuscript Contest, and the 1998 John Graves Writing Competition. Links to my published essays and articles can be found at www.nikkiloftin.com. This is my first full-length work of children’s fiction.

Thank you for your time and attention. I hope to hear from you soon.

Warmly,
Nikki Loftin

Black Turtleneck and Beret Time

Hi, y’all!

Well, I was going to post about how I finally gained literary legitimacy when a poem I wrote was accepted for a literary journal this week. (Ah, yes! Finally a win I can tell my old grad school writing buddies about. Ha!) And that did happen, sure, and I’ll blog about it later, ’cause that’s exciting.

But more exciting yesterday was winning a scholarship to the Backspace Agents and Authors Conference! I sent pages from my newest middle-grade novel (Escape From Comportment Camp) and a query… and I got it! Huge thanks to Collen Lindsay for hosting this on her blog.

Squeeeeeeee!!!!! So, I’ll be going to New York for November 4-7… and I might even bring Dave (on photosafari) if I can procure childcare for my very (ahem)  well-behaved sons. Anyone up for watching them for four days?

Anyone?

Mom?

For The Young Who Want To… Write?

Today’s blog post is for my unpublished writer friends. For the ones who don’t have husbands who give them rejection roses, for the ones who wonder why it’s so hard to answer the question “So, what do you do?” at a cocktail party with the truest answer.

Click here.

Keep writing!

The Secret (not)

Okay, I know this might be no big deal to you famous author-types out there, but I’m not quite famous yet. So it was a special little thrill to be surfing through my bookmarked sites last night and to stumble upon this. Isn’t that sweet? I thought so, too.

I had lots of writer-friends being very happy for me last week with all my good news (um, Universe? if you want to spread the good news out in the future, that would be okay, too!  Just sayin’.) and one (happy but frustrated) writer-friend saying “what’s your secret???”

Okay, here it is: I work my butt off.

Yeah, I know. If I had read The Secret, I could say something like “I send my positive thoughts out in the universe, and I receive that which I myself manifested.” But that’s bull. I pray like heck, and type as fast as I can with the five or six fingers that I use to type.

But the truth is, I treat this writing thing like a job, even before it’s paying like one. I sit down every day, and if the Muse ain’t talkin’, I write query letters instead of my WIP. I keep track of my submissions, and I aim to have 35-45 subs out at a time.

Yep, you heard that right. From puppet plays (yay!) to novel queries, to PBs (still have one in committee!) to essays, I keep the pipeline flowing.

So, if you were wondering what I do with all my time, that’s the answer. Oh, I also spend some time reading rejection letters and eating chocolate to soothe my ravaged soul. But don’t we all?

A VERY Good Week For Me

Well, hello intrepid blog readers! I haven’t posted anything but good news recently (a welcome change from the usual diet of whining, moping, and cursing the agents/editors/children who don’t appreciate me adequately, n’est-ce pas?) — so why stop now?

I am happy (more like peeing-my-panties ecstatic) to announce that my essay, Coming Out of the Craft Closet, has been chosen by the very wise, very discerning, very fabulous editors of skirt! magazine to appear in the October issue!

For those of you in the know, this is the essay I wrote about my mother’s constant attempts to make me love crafting as a child… and my resultant, absolute detestation of all things handmade. Um, she hasn’t seen this one yet.

Quotes from Beta readers: “This is hilarious! Mom’s gonna kill you!” — Lari, another daughter.

“Wow! This is really good. Has your mom seen this yet?” — David, my loving husband.

I think it’s okay. I mean, Christmas is pretty far from October, right? She won’t hold a grudge.Will she?

Oh, God. What have I done?????

My Dark Secret

Okay, I’ll admit it. I like Miley Cyrus. Well, one of her songs anyway. You know the schmaltzy one, It’s The Climb? Yeah, I know. If I belonged to Mensa, they would yank my membership. I’m a little afraid my more sophisticated friends (all two of them) might judge me harshly. But my writer buddies? They’ll understand.

In fact, I think this song may have become the unofficial anthem for the unpublished novelist. Go ahead, writers, listen to the song. Watch the video. Own the lyrics. Be Miley.

Update: My essay, Homemade Doughnuts, came in third in the Houston Writer’s Guild essay contest! A little bit of glory, but no cash. Still happy –seems there were HUNDREDS of entries.

And there’s more: My essay, titled The Best Days of Our Lives, will be included in the March 2010 anthology, A Cup of Comfort For Mothers!!! (Up until today, it was a finalist — but I made the cut. Woo hoo!)