Baker’s Dozen Auction…again
This is not a Momming Around post. It was a toss-up: either write about what happened yesterday with the Baker’s Dozen Auction, or give a list of reasons why I should move into our bathroom (it’s actually a compelling list – you may see it posted in the future).
Yesterday, I was all set up to do multiple page refreshes and comment-feed checks. Like, for hours. I had no idea how the auction would play out, and frankly, not a lot of faith in myself or my writing at that point.
That’s not entirely true. I vacillated between, “I am the QUEEN WRITER and no one can eff me up!” and “Woe is me, my writing is horrible, and why did I ever listen to Kristen about entering this silly, silly contest where the agents will ridicule me in the comments section and tell me to get a job raising goats in a remote, cold country that has no computers or typewriters or notebooks.” Sadly, I was mostly in the second, insecure frame of mind.
So yesterday morning, I left home at 8 to drop Z off at school. When we arrived at school, I received a text message. It was Melissa, telling me I had a bid!
By the time I got home, I’d received numerous extra text messages from Melissa, each one spazzier than the last, culminating with the Big News: a full manuscript request. In all this time, I was trying to turn my laptop on and actually SEE the bids, because I was convinced that some jerk out there was pretending to be agents and making bids even though he was a jerk and not an agent, so that suckers like me would get all excited and squeal and dance and then find out, the lottery ticket was a total fake (see: joke my high schoolers played on me for my birthday) (I haven’t actually written about that and I never will, because it was a cruel, cruel trick and besides you get the idea anyway).
To my non-writing friends in the studio audience: no, this does not mean the book is being published, and no, it doesn’t even mean I have an agent. It means that the winning agent who has excellent taste (especially based on the other entries she bid on), will read my manuscript. That’s all. She will read it, and do one of (I think) three things: 1) offer representation, 2) suggest revisions and invite me to resubmit the manuscript, or 3) decide the project isn’t for her (boo) but hopefully give me a clue why (yay!).
The bids were exciting, and it was fun to watch the bidding on the other entries, as well. But I think the truly beautiful thing about the whole experience was being a part of that group, that community of writers who were cheering for each other and encouraging each other and giving just the best critique and feedback they had to offer.
Miss Snarks’ First Victim has secret agent contests on a nearly-monthly basis, and in-house critique sessions, in addition to the annual Baker’s Dozen Auction. If you write fiction, I strongly recommend joining in the fun, because you won’t be disappointed in the talented, warm-hearted people who frequent her blog.
ETA: the auction from an agent’s perspective: click here for Josh Getzler’s blog post.