2011

For perhaps the first time in my life I am sad to see a year end.
2011 was incredibly kind to me and my husband. In 2010 we spent most of our time apart. For much of it I drove him back and forth to work every day (a 45 minute commute one way) so I could get to my ESL appointments. In 2011 he got a contract working for a giant multinational tech company and now we both work at home. We spend most of our time in the same room, talking and obsessing over our little white dog.
We moved to a nice apartment with lots of closet space and big windows that look out into the bright blue sky.
At night we play Magic: The Gathering and Arkham Horror.
We don't live paycheck to paycheck any more.
I started working with a group of writers who make me much more sane about my writing. Some of them even like to play Magic with me. (I played a lot of Magic in 2011.)
I went to the most beautiful island in the world with my beautiful sister to study with the most beautiful bellydancer ever.
I have lots of black and grey clothes in my closet (so I can pretend to be a goth everyday) and I live within walking distance of my favorite store (Goodwill).
I just made space in my bedroom for my art desk so I can start drawing again without hurting my neck.
My little life has never been happier, and I have never felt more comfortable with myself than I do now.

Thank you 2011.

Accomplishments

2011 was kind of awesome. Despite my neuroses and crippling attention deficit disorder I managed to get some good work in. Let's take a look.

• I finished Redlisted!!!!!!!!11 After going through a months-long period where I couldn't stand to even look at the manuscript, around September I suddenly got the inspiration and the urge to write the last draft, which I actually like and can show to people without cringing or wanting to hide in a hole. I am so happy that I got past the stage of wanting to disown it slash erase all traces of its existence.
  
• I produced a show, Doomsday Cabaret, all by myself and it didn't suck. In fact, I've heard people liked it.
  
• I taught a workshop at a regional festival for the first time!
  
• I got a new part time job and have managed to hold on to it despite sucking at it really, really badly. I am being serious. I am terrible at this stupid job, but I am proud of myself for sticking it out and trying my best.
  
• I wrote a short story! NO! TWO SHORT STORIES! Oh wow!
  
• I performed outside the US for the first time!
  
• I got accepted to perform at TribalCon 2012. I was scared to even apply, so this was kind of a big deal for me.
  
• I started writing a novel I am pretty much in love with.
  
• I made myself start going to a writers group despite my severe anxiety at the outset. It was totally worth it.
  
• I forced myself to start submitting Redlisted to agents, again, despite my fear of everything and my constant feelings of dread when it comes to anything related to the writing industry.
  
• I made some awesome costumes! Best costumes yet!
  
• I feel like my performances came a long way. I am satisfied watching my videos in a way I haven't been in the past.
  

YES! HIGH FIVES TO ME.
I would really like to hear what YOU did this year that you are proud of.

Resolutions

2012 is coming. I better get some stuff done before the world ends. (John Hodgman says it will and I find his books to be totally credible. In fact they are pretty much my most trusted sources of information, ever.)

Last year I went insane with monthly checklists (you can easily find them in the archives) and all kinds of related self-flagellation. This resulted in a hardcore burnout period, especially after I got my second part time job and said goodbye to a good amount of my free time.

I've transitioned into a kinder "do what you can" philosophy since then. I try not to stress about the things I'm not getting done because that list is infinitely long and contemplating it too deeply will make me go insane. Instead I might as well try to enjoy life and feel good about myself from time to time.

Still, there are some things I'd like to get done in 2012. Here are some of them.

• I would like to finish the first draft of my second novel. Right now it's about half done, and I think if I make it a priority for a few months it will materialize.
  
• I would like to produce another Doomsday Cabaret show.
  
• I would like to get in better shape. If possible I would like to be able to run a ten minute mile. (That may not sound too fast, but, let me tell you, it would be an improvement over the current situation.)
  
• I'd like to write a few more short stories and it would be great if I could get a short story published.
  
• I want to spend less time on Facebook and more time reading.
  
• I'd like to make at least one more bellydance costume.
  
• I want to feel good about what I perform at TribalCon, which will mean preparing well.
  
• I'd like to teach some workshops out of town (although I don't have much control over whether or not that comes to pass).
  
• I'd like to write an article about bellydance and publish it somewhere.
  
• I want to save more money and eat more fruits and vegetables. (Exciting!!)
  

And of course, I wish and hope that I will find a good agent for my book, and I'm going to try my best, but in the end it's not up to me. If I haven't found an agent by the end of 2012 I will probably go ahead and self-publish on Amazon, and I'm excited that possibility for its own reasons.

What are your resolutions?

Auto Bio

So I have been avoiding querying specific agents because they ask for a writer bio. As someone with no publication credits (yet! I am in the process of trying to find a home for a short story I am actually quite proud of) and no qualifications, I have no idea what the hell to say about myself. I hope it doesn't sound jaded to say that I feel like turdpolishing is necessary. I am just another eccentric among eccentrics who thinks they wrote something people might want to buy.

If I were to tell the truth unvarnished by what I think people want to hear, my bio would probably go something like this:


Sara Beaman was born in 1984 in a small town in New York and raised by Dungeons and Dragons nerds. She grew up a lonely brainiac with impeccable fashion sense (discounting a long stretch of years including middle school, high school, college and her early adult life). Like many other children who suck at sports, she thoroughly enjoyed reading science fiction and fantasy novels while avoiding projectiles thrown by other children at recess.

At some point she moved to North Carolina, where she met her future husband at a high school for unsociable technology enthusiasts. Then, thinking she would like to become a graphic designer, she enrolled in the North Carolina State University College of Design. Her mother warned her not to, and, indeed, it was an ill-advised course of action which left her full of ennui. After only a year and a half she dropped out of design school, preferring to study the history of human misery at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill instead.

During her idle years as a student Sara began studying the exotic art of bellydance, perhaps as a way to distract herself from her existential dread. After graduation, she worked a short stint at a temp agency, then a somewhat longer stint as a secretary at UNC. Then she decided to quit her perfectly acceptable job to pursue a career as a full time bellydancer. Then the economy tanked.

Now she thinks she'd probably like to be a novelist instead. She is willing to work hard and try her best. She would like to be able to provide publication credits but she is honestly dreadful at coming up with ideas for short stories. She has written like three, all told, and one of them is kind of crap.

But really, writing is what calls to the jaded remnants of her soul. She is serious about it and will totally do whatever it takes.

Sara resides in Raleigh, North Carolina with her misanthrope husband and her rescue dog Lola who loves humans quite a bit.


LOL okay but seriously I need to write something I can actually send to people. :(

Doomsday Footage!

Sometimes I still find time to dance. This is improv, and was shot by my awesome videographer dad. The song is "Cabaret Macabre" by Raquy and the Cavemen.

I hope you enjoy!

An update

This morning I received a response from an agent that was not a rejection. So now there is an agent out there with my whole manuscript.

Please make sacrifices to the gods/patron saints of long shots on my behalf.

"Do you dance for your husband?"

A patron asked me this at the show last night.

I couldn't tell how she meant the question. Discomfort in her eyes. Perhaps she was trying to square what she'd seen in my performance with her own personal paradigm of sexuality. Perhaps she was trying to submit a gentle complaint, to police my behavior in a subtle way. Perhaps she was merely curious about what I do at home.

"I dance for everyone," I said, sharing her unease.

I get asked this question a lot, more frequently by new students than anyone else. Always women, never men. Sometimes it's a related question: "Can you teach me how to dance for my husband?" Sometimes it's another variation: "Can you dance for my husband?" ("I'll pay you." "It's his birthday.")

They've been asking me this for years but I never get used to it.

I won't pretend I don't understand what they're seeing: a girl (although I may not qualify as such for much longer), scantily clad, moving her hips and chest around in rhythmic patterns. I get it. It reads, for them, as an unsubtle display of female sexuality.

I am not offended by their perception of what I am doing and why. It may not mesh with my intent, but so what? If I made my intent for each performance completely transparent, it would stop being interesting, and I think it might very well stop being art. Art, to me, exists in the vast space between the intent of the creator and the perception of the audience. It's negotiated.

What bothers me is always the tone. Let's put your dance in an acceptable context, shall we? You are doing this for a man. And he is your husband.

I won't go on about my motivations for dancing because putting them to words would mutilate them. But let's suppose I intended for my audience to take everything on face value alone: girl in lots of makeup and a (sort of) revealing costume, shaking it. Let's say my intention was really just to titillate.

I will do this for whoever the fuck I want, thank you. And I don't care what you think of that. If you want to read me as a sex object, go ahead. Just don't try to cram the patriarchy down my throat. I know you can see a wedding ring on my finger, but don't pretend you understand my relationship with my husband, and don't you dare try to enforce what you think it should be on me.

I will dance for the enjoyment of everyone in the audience, male or female, young or old. To be honest I am more concerned with my female audience members. I want them to see me feeling happy and comfortable with myself, my body, my spirit. I want them to know they can feel the same way. Maybe not by being a dancing girl live on stage, but through whatever medium, in whatever venue they choose.

I want these girls and women to go out into the world and be themselves for everyone, not just their husbands.

By asking me this question I can see these women are not getting that. And it makes me sad.

Here is a second stab at the query letter.

After getting some secret feedback, I have taken another stab at the query. Some cheese has been removed. I am trying to strike a tone between cheese and dramz. Not sure if this succeeds any better than the last attempt.

Writing this thing is in many ways harder than writing the damn novel was. I just deleted this sentence: "I am not cut out to write copy." SHUT UP SARA. Ugh. I will endeavor to believe that I can do this. I want to believe.

all right so here's the second version

Dear XXXX,

I bet you don’t believe in vampires. Few humans do.

Mirabel Radcliffe is determined to keep it that way. As the CEO of Spira Communications, Mirabel uses mass media to brainwash the public and keep the existence of her kind a secret.

But the twenty-four hour news cycle doesn’t stop for a woman who can only go out at night. That’s why Mirabel has gathered a team of perfect doubles—mortal women permanently altered to look like her, talk like her, think like her and conduct her affairs during the daytime.

Kate Avery thought she’d be working for SpiraCom as a reporter. Instead, her boss has her scouring the Internet, searching for people who know the truth and passing their IP addresses to the higher-ups. When Kate realizes what’s happening, she tries to take the company down from the inside. It doesn’t work.

Now Mirabel has conscripted Kate into service as a double. She’s taken Kate’s face, voice, and even her memories. Worse still, the procedures that left Kate looking exactly like Mirabel also left her with an unfortunate dependency on vampire blood.

Fortunately for Kate, Mirabel is not without enemies. When Mirabel’s blood brother Adam Radcliffe kidnaps Kate from SpiraCom headquarters, she gets a chance for freedom—and a chance for revenge.

REDLISTED, 80,000 words, is my first novel.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,

Sara Beaman

Your thoughts are welcome. If you don't feel comfortable ripping me apart in the comments you can always email me at skbeaman at gmail dot com.

Thanks for reading either way!

Rejected!! also, a query letter.

Well, yesterday I got my first rejection for Redlisted. I am crying zero tears. That's the way things go, and I'm sure it's just the first of many on the road to success (or wherever it is that I'm going).
The rejection letter brought to my attention the fact that the query letter I was using sucked. Thus, I started from scratch and wrote an entirely different one. It is posted below for your amusement. It's a bit cheesy, but then again it is a query for a vampire novel.

Dear XXXX,

I bet you don’t believe in vampires. Few humans do.

Mirabel Radcliffe is determined to keep it that way. Been bitten in the back room of a club? Seen shady characters doing things you can’t explain? She will make you forget. She makes everyone forget.

That kind of blood magic isn’t easy, even for a vampire of one hundred and twenty three years. But Mirabel’s magic is subtle. Pervasive. Corporate. As the CEO of umbrella company Spira Communications, Mirabel uses mass media to brainwash the public and keep the existence of her kind a secret. Her commercials and catchy pop tunes have kept every feeding frenzy and mass draining under wraps for the last century.

But the twenty-four hour news cycle doesn’t stop for a woman who can only go out at night. That’s why Mirabel has gathered a team of perfect doubles—mortal women permanently altered to look like her, talk like her, think like her and conduct her affairs during the daytime. These girls are under some serious conditioning. They shouldn’t be able to make their own decisions, and they certainly shouldn’t be able to rebel.

After working for SpiraCom for years as a pencil pusher, Kate is conscripted into service as a double. Now Mirabel has taken Kate’s face, voice, and even her memories. Worse still, the bleeding-edge procedures that left Kate looking exactly like Mirabel also left her with an unfortunate dependency on vampire blood.

Fortunately for Kate, Mirabel is not without enemies. When a rival vampire kidnaps Kate from SpiraCom headquarters, she gets a chance for freedom—and a chance for revenge.

REDLISTED, 80,000 words, is my first novel.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,

Sara Beaman

I need feedback to make this thing come to life, just like I did with the novel. If you have a second, pretty please answer some or all of these questions in the comments:

1. Would you read this novel? (presuming you haven't already)
2. Does it sound different from other vampire stuff you know about?
3. Was there anything about the query you didn't understand?
4. Did you have to reread anything for clarity?
5. Did you dislike any part of this letter?
6. Why or why not?*

Thank you, sweet friend, for your support.

*A joke so weak I felt I had to provide this disclaimer.