Giant Baby Here
“It’s funny, emotional AF, and also one-thousand-percent inappropriate, but it has some meat on its bones and a story that I know will inspire. It can just be a tricky balancing act to sound smart, fun, and not crazy in around 400 words.”
I hate dental work. Period.
No one ever woke up and said, "I can't wait to go to the dentist," unless the laughing gas is cathartic, in which case, do it, and I fully support you. I digress. This morning, the oral surgeon politely fused a metal rod into my jaw. And I was anesthetized, because no way am I here for that kind of torture awake. Remember how I mentioned even my hubby's chewing sounds make me cringy now? Drilling and grinding in my mouth (yes, that sounded dirty) is not my jam.
I just got home, and an ice pack and a nap are in order as soon as this blog is done, my badass readers.
The book sh*t
I didn't get any queries done this week, but last Friday, I did get one sent off and felt goodish about it. I ditched my query letter templates from before and just wrote this one from the heart because I genuinely adored the authors the agent has represented and because she is accepting my genre.
Technically, comedic memoir isn't a genre on its own, so my letters have to give agents that impression quickly. That it's funny, emotional AF, and also one-thousand percent inappropriate, but it has some meat on its bones and a story that I know will inspire. It can just be a tricky balancing act to sound smart, fun, and not crazy in around 400 words.
Claude Meltdown
I also had a moment that made me lose my marbles as I scanned the manuscript I had sent to another aspiring author. I used AI to edit it grammatically and help me structure the book into its four parts so it would be cohesive. It did that and then some unwanted, complete and utter bullsh*t by adding its own mother blippin' bleepity bleep bleep transitions and "smoothing" my exact words into...wait for it...NEW words altogether.
For example, there's a scene in Chapter 2 from the morning after Momma passed away. My sweet blue-eyed Josey, who was 5 at the time, looked up at me, wiped my tear, and said, "Momma, don't be sad. Grammy is in heaven dancing with Jesus."
What Claude changed it to was, "It's okay. Grammy's in heaven."
Once I read that sinful and rude violation of my manuscript, I started to spiral that the little b*tch Claude (my AI platform of poison) had destroyed so much more. So, I reread and revised a lot of Chapter 1 by cross-referencing the OG manuscript with the one I thought had simply been cleanly edited. I fixed it so at least what went out to the agent in the proposal was solid.
Time Heals All Holes
All that said, I am about to pop a painkiller before the mouth-numbing agents wear off and let the hole and new hardware in my face heal up. I'm sure I'll be just fine, and in three months, this tooth can be finalized.
I suppose this query process, in a way, feels like dental work...it's not awesome, and it takes time. No one likes rejection after rejection, just like no one likes spending a few thousand dollars on a tooth that will never be seen by anybody.
At least one day, this book will grace the shelves of a store.
That's the dream, baby.
MANUSCRIPT STATS
📈 Chapter 1: re-reviewed and revised after catching AI's "smoothing." Done.
📄 Chapter 2: line-by-line audit. Still in progress.
🎯 Queries still out: 6 total. No change this week.
📬 Responses: 0. Still waiting.
🦷 Also waiting: a titanium rod to fuse and a permanent crown in three months.
