Au-u-u-urgh! I can’t believe I’m going through all this again! Three books into a series of five, and my publisher goes dysfunctional. So far I’ve had five emails asking about AMMANON Book Four, The Journey. What can I say? It may not happen in our lifetime!
Deciding not to add a years-long ordeal of snagging representation to the years-long ordeal of getting a publisher, I am, at the moment, submitting on my own. Probably a mistake, but I’m getting old, you know.
Submissions are terribly tedious. One publisher asks for a cover letter to include bio and 3-paragraph synopsis, with the ms (manuscript) attached. Another wants cover letter with contact info only, with a 2-page synopsis and ms attached as separate documents. The next one wants background on the story’s conception and research, along with a one page synopsis as part of the cover letter. The ms, this time without page numbers, attached.
The only common standard (for the ms) is 12 pt. type, double-spacing, and the 1” margin all around. When it comes to headers and/or page numbers, they’re all different. So far they differ on only two basic fonts: Courier or Times New Roman.
Obviously, there’s no cutting and pasting on the cover letters and synopses. Very little, anyway. Dealing with such radical differences, there’s no choice but to write each from scratch.
Right now I’m doing a slash-and-burn to meet a desired word count for yet another. Gone is the glossary, map, and Epilogue of excerpts from Book Five. On the other hand, much of what I’m cutting from the narrative won’t hurt the story all that much. It’s just that the voice of my first editor still guides me: “Give me more description! Put me there! Let me see it, smell it, hear it!” And it is fun to do that. However, despite my classical literary writing style, I still prefer fast-paced action to lengthy scene-setting. So a lot of these cuts are making me bleed!
Still, this particular publisher is a favorite of several authors I admire. Getting past the Word-Count Czar may be worth it.
Where am I getting my list? I started with a site called Predators and Editors http://pred-ed.com/peba.htm that both lists and rates publishers. Unfortunately, this list is pretty old. A tragic number of them went belly up in the downturn. I’m now shifting to the BEA’s roster of exhibitors. At least I can be sure they’re still in business!
Friday, June 18, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
The Times Square Holiday Inn (Further adventures at the BEA)
So I told you the hotel experience was a whole nuther post. Well, here it is.
If you read the preceding, you know the main problem was air conditioning – as in too much of. See, down here in Texas, we can set the ol’ AC anywhere we want it. Given the cost of energy, that’s usually above 70°. But in NY, if you find 70° either too chilly or unconscionable: tough. If you try to set it above 70°, the heat comes on. I’m not kidding.
Now begs the question: how does Con Ed support the jillions of New Yorkers seeking relief from their steamy streets if the thermostat must read 70° or else? C’mon, people!
The maintenance guy found me wrapped in a blanket beating my head against the thermostat. I found the maintenance guy polite, professional, well-spoken, well-muscled, and altogether gorgeous. And he did get the AC to shut off.
At the time, I didn’t know that was the only option.
It took about 10 minutes for that hermetically sealed little room to become a stifling sweatbox. I turned it to a conservative 76° and tried to coax it to come on again. Nothing.
I called the front desk. Did I want maintenance to come back? Uh, let me think. First, I’d have to get dressed again. Second, how many trips could Adonis make without coming to the reasonable conclusion that grandma was just lookin’ for eye candy? And we were getting into the wee hours by now. So no. Just tell me what to do.
So the front desk suggested I reboot the unit. That is, unplug it from the wall, count to ten, and plug it back in. I did. It started back up. I collapsed back into bed.
It shut off.
I got up and rebooted the thing again. This time it stayed on nearly 15 minutes – long enough to discover it was belching forth heat with a vengeance.
I called the front desk. And THAT’S when I learned the 70° rule. So I hung up, rebooted yet again, and dutifully set it back to 70°. Thus, by 4:00 in the morning, I finally got to sleep.
Next morning, I stumbled down to the complimentary breakfast buffet. I was amazed to find a very Southern offering: biscuits and gravy. No one but me knew quite what to make of it. Then I spotted something I’d never seen before. Ever the adventurer, I picked up the tongs and dropped one on my paper plate. Analysis showed it to be an omelet: artificial egg folded around artificial cheese. Sort of like a taco. Very clever. And actually rather tasty, too. Thus fortified, I struck out for the BEA (Book Expo America) at the sprawling colossus known as the Javits Convention Center. See previous post.
But wait. I’m not through with the hotel yet. Killing time at 3:30 AM waiting for the airport bus, I noticed this diagram by the elevator:
If you read the preceding, you know the main problem was air conditioning – as in too much of. See, down here in Texas, we can set the ol’ AC anywhere we want it. Given the cost of energy, that’s usually above 70°. But in NY, if you find 70° either too chilly or unconscionable: tough. If you try to set it above 70°, the heat comes on. I’m not kidding.
Now begs the question: how does Con Ed support the jillions of New Yorkers seeking relief from their steamy streets if the thermostat must read 70° or else? C’mon, people!
The maintenance guy found me wrapped in a blanket beating my head against the thermostat. I found the maintenance guy polite, professional, well-spoken, well-muscled, and altogether gorgeous. And he did get the AC to shut off.
At the time, I didn’t know that was the only option.
It took about 10 minutes for that hermetically sealed little room to become a stifling sweatbox. I turned it to a conservative 76° and tried to coax it to come on again. Nothing.
I called the front desk. Did I want maintenance to come back? Uh, let me think. First, I’d have to get dressed again. Second, how many trips could Adonis make without coming to the reasonable conclusion that grandma was just lookin’ for eye candy? And we were getting into the wee hours by now. So no. Just tell me what to do.
So the front desk suggested I reboot the unit. That is, unplug it from the wall, count to ten, and plug it back in. I did. It started back up. I collapsed back into bed.
It shut off.
I got up and rebooted the thing again. This time it stayed on nearly 15 minutes – long enough to discover it was belching forth heat with a vengeance.
I called the front desk. And THAT’S when I learned the 70° rule. So I hung up, rebooted yet again, and dutifully set it back to 70°. Thus, by 4:00 in the morning, I finally got to sleep.
Next morning, I stumbled down to the complimentary breakfast buffet. I was amazed to find a very Southern offering: biscuits and gravy. No one but me knew quite what to make of it. Then I spotted something I’d never seen before. Ever the adventurer, I picked up the tongs and dropped one on my paper plate. Analysis showed it to be an omelet: artificial egg folded around artificial cheese. Sort of like a taco. Very clever. And actually rather tasty, too. Thus fortified, I struck out for the BEA (Book Expo America) at the sprawling colossus known as the Javits Convention Center. See previous post.
But wait. I’m not through with the hotel yet. Killing time at 3:30 AM waiting for the airport bus, I noticed this diagram by the elevator:
What? The Holiday Inn Express is only 4 little rooms per floor? But it’s 36 floors high! How the heck does the building stay standing? I mean, try that with your grandkids’ blocks sometime!
No, it wasn’t all bad. About 6:00 that second evening, the news of SuperBowl 2012 ran through the lights on Times Square. It was fun to hear the excitement of the crowds. They even had fireworks.
Other than that, I gotta tell ya: suddenly Houston’s looking pretty good!
No, it wasn’t all bad. About 6:00 that second evening, the news of SuperBowl 2012 ran through the lights on Times Square. It was fun to hear the excitement of the crowds. They even had fireworks.
Other than that, I gotta tell ya: suddenly Houston’s looking pretty good!
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Book Expo America
If you were there at the BEA, please comment! The experience, except for a few pleasant visits at the booths, was mega non-productive for me! I want to know what it is that authors can accomplish there. For the most part it just seemed like a hard-sell event – a pitiful and demeaning exercise for authors hawking books like used cars.
First is the intimidation of New York City in general, and the Javits Convention Center in particular. See what I mean? The building is overwhelming even against that awesome skyline:
First is the intimidation of New York City in general, and the Javits Convention Center in particular. See what I mean? The building is overwhelming even against that awesome skyline:
And when you walk up to it, it’s even worse:
I walked for MILES around that place - finding very few of the booths listed on my BEA Planner. The map was impossible to follow since it would’ve had to be enlarged 500X to allow for legible text. And that would have made it…let’s see what my calculator says here…about 6’ x 3.54’. Moreover, only three of the thousands of exhibitors displayed their booth number. Without an annotated map, it was impossible to see if it was one of the 84 I wished to visit. Unfortunately, see, I’d arranged my list in order by booth number rather than alphabetically – assuming (silly me!) the spaces could readily identified.
There were no places to rest on the main exhibition level. The few places on the lower floors were always taken. The food and restroom lines snaked around endlessly.
It would have been miserable even if I hadn’t been up to 4 AM that morning wrestling with the hotel room thermostat.. But that’s another post.
I finally called it a day somewhere around 4 PM. It was the hottest part of the afternoon, and I’d dressed to match my book covers: Black, set off by a flowing red print scarf. That, plus the tote bag carrying 4 books and multiple packets and brochures, made a grueling 8-block walk to the hotel on already wretched feet.
But I made it all the way back to my frigidly air conditioned room – only to find it being cleaned. Sigh. Back down in the lobby, I snagged the one remaining muffin left from breakfast and washed it down with equally leftover coffee. While eating, I called the airport shuttle for a pick-up time. What? 3:30 AM?? For a flight leaving at 7:00? OMG. Suddenly my meager repast seemed providential indeed.
LaGuardia, as compared with other terminals, is as dirty and crowded as the rest of New York. At least, the rather limited part of it I saw. The only food concession open at 5 AM just had a tray of brownies out. That, plus a very expensive bottle of water, was breakfast. Don’t get me wrong. It was an exceptional brownie. Just not my usual fare. It was supplemented 2 ½ hours later by airline coffee and pretzels.
There were more pretzels and coffee on the second leg between Atlanta and Houston. Actually, since I didn’t know they’d changed the gate number of that flight, and therefore missed it, I might have hooked up with some real grub. But by the time I’d walked back across Atlanta’s interminable terminal to the gate of the next flight out, I was too angry and exhausted to care. When my husband picked me up, I forced him to head straight for one of our favorite restaurants where I pigged out big-time. Then I went home and slept for the next two days.
Like I said, if anyone had a positive experience at the BEA, please tell me about it!
There were no places to rest on the main exhibition level. The few places on the lower floors were always taken. The food and restroom lines snaked around endlessly.
It would have been miserable even if I hadn’t been up to 4 AM that morning wrestling with the hotel room thermostat.. But that’s another post.
I finally called it a day somewhere around 4 PM. It was the hottest part of the afternoon, and I’d dressed to match my book covers: Black, set off by a flowing red print scarf. That, plus the tote bag carrying 4 books and multiple packets and brochures, made a grueling 8-block walk to the hotel on already wretched feet.
But I made it all the way back to my frigidly air conditioned room – only to find it being cleaned. Sigh. Back down in the lobby, I snagged the one remaining muffin left from breakfast and washed it down with equally leftover coffee. While eating, I called the airport shuttle for a pick-up time. What? 3:30 AM?? For a flight leaving at 7:00? OMG. Suddenly my meager repast seemed providential indeed.
LaGuardia, as compared with other terminals, is as dirty and crowded as the rest of New York. At least, the rather limited part of it I saw. The only food concession open at 5 AM just had a tray of brownies out. That, plus a very expensive bottle of water, was breakfast. Don’t get me wrong. It was an exceptional brownie. Just not my usual fare. It was supplemented 2 ½ hours later by airline coffee and pretzels.
There were more pretzels and coffee on the second leg between Atlanta and Houston. Actually, since I didn’t know they’d changed the gate number of that flight, and therefore missed it, I might have hooked up with some real grub. But by the time I’d walked back across Atlanta’s interminable terminal to the gate of the next flight out, I was too angry and exhausted to care. When my husband picked me up, I forced him to head straight for one of our favorite restaurants where I pigged out big-time. Then I went home and slept for the next two days.
Like I said, if anyone had a positive experience at the BEA, please tell me about it!
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
AMMANON Book Three, The Deliverance, has FINALLY gone to press!
Let no cockeyed optimist tell you that Murphy's Law doesn't exist!
After the relative ease with which Books One and Two went through production, I was pompously considering myself a seasoned author. Not so fast, Fagan!
In all fairness, I should preface my venting by saying that the publisher has since (today, actually) sent all its authors a letter explaining the obstacles faced this past year. Even with what I now admit is an extremely limited understanding of the process, I realize the staff was doing the best they could under very trying circumstances. So bear that in mind as I rant.
First of all, communications delays were monumental. Emails from the cover artist, for example, took weeks instead of hours. And during those lapses of time, any understanding of my messages vanished. Assuming the message got through at all.
Second, I couldn't get questions answered until it was too late to make changes. Well, it could be done, but since the manuscript had already gone to galley, it was costly and time-consuming.
Two weeks after changes had been submitted to the galley proof, I attempted to gleen a status report from Customer Service. The reply came in a remarkable 2 - 3 days: "You should be receiving your galley proof within the next two weeks." Ya think?
Nevertheless, the mountain has been climbed by publisher and author alike, and I'm looking for a release no later than January 20. And, after all that, it really doesn't look too bad, does it? There's really no lesson to learn here, other than patience. The economic crash last year and the rollercoaster market ride every since wreaks its havoc on all of us. Sort of reminds me of the electronic signs along the freeway: "Pile up at I-45 and 610 Loop. EXPECT DELAYS."
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Which profession produces the worst drivers? Well, guess what! It also produces the worst fliers. (Good thing authors weren’t included in the study!)
Just ran across this item on AOL News and it immediately took me back to my flying days. But before I elaborate, I shall first tell you the answer: Doctors.
This study was reported by Reilly Brennan, Editor in Chief and Programming Director for AOL Autos. An award-winning journalist, Brennan has written for Motor Trend, Automobile… Magazine, Winding Road, Monocle. He says: “Per year, every 1,000 doctors average 109 accidents and 44 speeding tickets, landing them at the top of the list. Are these sleep-deprived residents and interns too tired to stay on the road, or do they just enjoy playing God in traffic?”
But he also points out that “many of the professions on the list tend to get called into duty with some urgency.”
Now back to flying.
The Cessna 150 my instructor used for training was called “Patches” for good reason. The cowling was red, the pilot side door was yellow-striped, the rudder was blue with white stripes, and the rest of the plane was the original gray and white. It was, in short, the product of a series of cannibalized crashes. And the pieces did not always play well together. The door, for instance, didn’t quite fit and once flew opened just as I was banking over the red and white checked water tower. That was the downwind leg of the landing pattern and I couldn’t have been 20 feet above the thing.
Anyway, Patches’ condition, according to my instructor, was the direct result of the airfield’s proximity to UTMB (Univ. of Texas Medical Branch). Yes. All the crashes were caused by doctors. But why? Those guys are brilliant! To which my laconic, WWII-type teacher replied: “Oh, I dunno. Reckon they feel they’re above it all.” After which he slapped this thigh and cackled raucously over his pun.
That was long ago, of course. At this point in my life I’m grateful Mr. Brennan didn’t include authors in his study. We are probably the most dangerously abstracted people out there. We’re always rehashing or even sounding out bits of dialog, considering plot intricacies, etc. while we’re driving. Frankly, I’d rather be flying with a squadron of MDs than, say, Stephen King, Jean Auel, or Erma Bombeck…
This study was reported by Reilly Brennan, Editor in Chief and Programming Director for AOL Autos. An award-winning journalist, Brennan has written for Motor Trend, Automobile… Magazine, Winding Road, Monocle. He says: “Per year, every 1,000 doctors average 109 accidents and 44 speeding tickets, landing them at the top of the list. Are these sleep-deprived residents and interns too tired to stay on the road, or do they just enjoy playing God in traffic?”
But he also points out that “many of the professions on the list tend to get called into duty with some urgency.”
Now back to flying.
The Cessna 150 my instructor used for training was called “Patches” for good reason. The cowling was red, the pilot side door was yellow-striped, the rudder was blue with white stripes, and the rest of the plane was the original gray and white. It was, in short, the product of a series of cannibalized crashes. And the pieces did not always play well together. The door, for instance, didn’t quite fit and once flew opened just as I was banking over the red and white checked water tower. That was the downwind leg of the landing pattern and I couldn’t have been 20 feet above the thing.
Anyway, Patches’ condition, according to my instructor, was the direct result of the airfield’s proximity to UTMB (Univ. of Texas Medical Branch). Yes. All the crashes were caused by doctors. But why? Those guys are brilliant! To which my laconic, WWII-type teacher replied: “Oh, I dunno. Reckon they feel they’re above it all.” After which he slapped this thigh and cackled raucously over his pun.
That was long ago, of course. At this point in my life I’m grateful Mr. Brennan didn’t include authors in his study. We are probably the most dangerously abstracted people out there. We’re always rehashing or even sounding out bits of dialog, considering plot intricacies, etc. while we’re driving. Frankly, I’d rather be flying with a squadron of MDs than, say, Stephen King, Jean Auel, or Erma Bombeck…
Saturday, August 1, 2009
The Fanatic Grammatic Goes Way Past Participles
Before I start eating my nominative cases, I'd like to recommend two more grammar websites. This one from my BFF Rose Mary: http://grammar.quickanddirtytips.com/default.aspx which, you can tell from the title, is quite as user friendly as http://www.grammarbook.com/. Moreover, it has direct applications for authors.
Next is for you technical types. It's from Mary Sell -my editor, as you might guess: http://books.google.com/books?pg=PA99&lpg=PA99&dq=grammar+%22as+him%22&sig=cBx1pFlnFy618RoiJf-ONJejoSw&ei=iitvSqrhKJLmM-rC5NYI&ct=result&id=IrfUf5nE4VUC&ots=fZc2VFyUok&output=text. That came about when I went into a panic over a sentence I loved, but GrammarCheck didn't. She finally hauled out the big guns over the issue. Oddly enough, it still remains a judgement call. But there it is.
Now, then. After all this angst over perfecting my product, here comes Geraldine Sutton Stith. We met online when she was seeking info on my publisher. Since she had already published a couple of novels, I went to her website and became intrigued. Alien Legacy, a true story of her family's experiences, looked familiar. It was a case I'd discovered when researching UFO sightings for a formal debate. (I drew 2nd affirmative.) I immediately ordered it.
It was August 21, 1955 in Kelly, Kentucky; a night burned forever into the memory of the Sutton family. This poignant tale of terror - and the resultant, enduring ridicule - could only be told exactly the way Geraldine told it - in the words of her salt-of-the-earth, God-fearing family. How else could she have communicated their thoughts and feelings in those extraordinary events?
It felt as real as listening to her tell it over the kitchen table. I could hear her soft accent, see the steep, wooded hills of Kentucky that enfold you like a mother's embrace; yet understand fully the stark horror of strange lights and unhuman beings curiously exploring the grounds and peering through windows.
Yes, Geraldine Sutton Stith told it like it was, and grammar be hanged. If my publisher accepts her, I hope they accept her completely.
Next is for you technical types. It's from Mary Sell -my editor, as you might guess: http://books.google.com/books?pg=PA99&lpg=PA99&dq=grammar+%22as+him%22&sig=cBx1pFlnFy618RoiJf-ONJejoSw&ei=iitvSqrhKJLmM-rC5NYI&ct=result&id=IrfUf5nE4VUC&ots=fZc2VFyUok&output=text. That came about when I went into a panic over a sentence I loved, but GrammarCheck didn't. She finally hauled out the big guns over the issue. Oddly enough, it still remains a judgement call. But there it is.
Now, then. After all this angst over perfecting my product, here comes Geraldine Sutton Stith. We met online when she was seeking info on my publisher. Since she had already published a couple of novels, I went to her website and became intrigued. Alien Legacy, a true story of her family's experiences, looked familiar. It was a case I'd discovered when researching UFO sightings for a formal debate. (I drew 2nd affirmative.) I immediately ordered it.
It was August 21, 1955 in Kelly, Kentucky; a night burned forever into the memory of the Sutton family. This poignant tale of terror - and the resultant, enduring ridicule - could only be told exactly the way Geraldine told it - in the words of her salt-of-the-earth, God-fearing family. How else could she have communicated their thoughts and feelings in those extraordinary events?
It felt as real as listening to her tell it over the kitchen table. I could hear her soft accent, see the steep, wooded hills of Kentucky that enfold you like a mother's embrace; yet understand fully the stark horror of strange lights and unhuman beings curiously exploring the grounds and peering through windows.
Yes, Geraldine Sutton Stith told it like it was, and grammar be hanged. If my publisher accepts her, I hope they accept her completely.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Take every opportunity to sharpen your skills
There's a reason I haven't been posting lately: namely, Ammanon Book Three, The Deliverance.
After it had been competently edited (thanks again, Mary!) I submitted it. And OMG. My publisher's manuscript reviewer, hereinafter referred to as the MR, about tore me a new one. She preferred the old school use of commas, for one thing. No real argument there. Then there's my writing style. If you've ever read my Ammanon books, you know I have adopted a sort of Old Testament narrative style to immerse the story in it's ancient setting. And you know that Biblical authors and translators quite frequently begin sentences with "and". Total no-no.
Worse, the format in which I had submitted it was all wrong. Again, I certainly can't argue. Publishers should demand that an author meet their requirements in order to facilitate review and production. Obviously this is no excuse, but the only rules I ever saw were 12 pt. Times New Roman, double spaced. And that was Book Two. Book One was 12 pt. Courier. Double spaced, of course. I was horrified that I'd made such an errors like indented paragraphs and page numbers when they weren't allowed, but I swear I never saw these specifications. Honest. Not in the contract; not on their website. Not that I'm the best searcher of sites...
The point is, I should have asked at the outset.
Anyway, bottom line, I've been slogging through the manuscript virtually letter-by-letter to correct such things. Invariably, one also finds many, many things to improve when one does this. Which brings me to the title subject.
For heaven's sake, stay sharp on the rules of grammar. I don't care how unconventional your chosen style, if the verb doesn't agree with the subject you're not saying what you want to say. A misused adverb can confuse or change the meaning entirely. Trust me, you don't want to confuse either your editor OR your MR. Know what you're doing! Even the automatic grammar prompts on your Word program can throw you if you don't know the mechanics of your language. It's especially important to know when the prompts are wrong!
I got caught once before when I discovered my grammar skills had become antiquated. In the process of updating, I discovered this online goldmine: www.grammarbook.com. Just using the free services can be a huge help. Pic your bugaboo (apostrophes, commas, etc.) read the rules, and take the quizzes. I took them all. I was amazed at the way colloquial usage can erode your recognition of proper form.
Check out other authors. Many use their blogs to help writers sharpen their skills. My favorite at the moment is Aaron Paul Lazar. He's turned me around on several points. But there are many others. Google topics like "Writing Essentials" and you'll find them.
Meanwhile, I'm truly indebted to both my editor and MR for forcing me to look again at my writing - this time with all the critical fervor necessary for perfection.
Okay. I've gotta get back to work.
After it had been competently edited (thanks again, Mary!) I submitted it. And OMG. My publisher's manuscript reviewer, hereinafter referred to as the MR, about tore me a new one. She preferred the old school use of commas, for one thing. No real argument there. Then there's my writing style. If you've ever read my Ammanon books, you know I have adopted a sort of Old Testament narrative style to immerse the story in it's ancient setting. And you know that Biblical authors and translators quite frequently begin sentences with "and". Total no-no.
Worse, the format in which I had submitted it was all wrong. Again, I certainly can't argue. Publishers should demand that an author meet their requirements in order to facilitate review and production. Obviously this is no excuse, but the only rules I ever saw were 12 pt. Times New Roman, double spaced. And that was Book Two. Book One was 12 pt. Courier. Double spaced, of course. I was horrified that I'd made such an errors like indented paragraphs and page numbers when they weren't allowed, but I swear I never saw these specifications. Honest. Not in the contract; not on their website. Not that I'm the best searcher of sites...
The point is, I should have asked at the outset.
Anyway, bottom line, I've been slogging through the manuscript virtually letter-by-letter to correct such things. Invariably, one also finds many, many things to improve when one does this. Which brings me to the title subject.
For heaven's sake, stay sharp on the rules of grammar. I don't care how unconventional your chosen style, if the verb doesn't agree with the subject you're not saying what you want to say. A misused adverb can confuse or change the meaning entirely. Trust me, you don't want to confuse either your editor OR your MR. Know what you're doing! Even the automatic grammar prompts on your Word program can throw you if you don't know the mechanics of your language. It's especially important to know when the prompts are wrong!
I got caught once before when I discovered my grammar skills had become antiquated. In the process of updating, I discovered this online goldmine: www.grammarbook.com. Just using the free services can be a huge help. Pic your bugaboo (apostrophes, commas, etc.) read the rules, and take the quizzes. I took them all. I was amazed at the way colloquial usage can erode your recognition of proper form.
Check out other authors. Many use their blogs to help writers sharpen their skills. My favorite at the moment is Aaron Paul Lazar. He's turned me around on several points. But there are many others. Google topics like "Writing Essentials" and you'll find them.
Meanwhile, I'm truly indebted to both my editor and MR for forcing me to look again at my writing - this time with all the critical fervor necessary for perfection.
Okay. I've gotta get back to work.
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