1.24.2006

Miss Snark retires, weeping, to her settee

Dear Miss Snark,

inspired by your very useful advice and the trusty Crapometer I set about reducing my hitherto 3752 word synopsis to a readable 998 words. And then I set about the task of contacting targeted NY agents (via e-mail as I'm based in Spain). It appears a goodly proportion of NY agents want 250 word synopses. So, my question is thus, is there any chance in the future you'll be running a 250 word Crapometer?


From Spain yet.
There, lolling on sunny beaches, being served margaritas by smiling senoritas, this cruel cruel man asks about the Crapometer.

Miss Snark, looking out at 39degrees and the forecast of snow, while the office next door is remodeled (think: sound of jackhammers), and thinks...ya bub, you do the crapomter, I'll go to Spain.

After I regain my composure, the answer is a resounding maybe.
At this point the idea of doing anything with the crapometer again makes me run screaming into the night...ok, that's not unusual here, but still, you get the point.

15 comments:

Justin R. Buchbinder said...

So that was the shriek that woke me up this morning at 3.

Charlie (Colorado) said...

They're probably drinking sangria on the beach, though.

Bonnie Calhoun said...

Sheesh, now I know why my dog was howling...the hills are alive with the sound of Snark!

Lisa Hunter said...

Be still my heart! I read the words "Miss Snark retires" and had hideous visions of a Snarlkess world. Please don't scare me like that, or I'll need a gin pail myself.

rachel hartman said...

The Crapometer is your Sherlock Holmes. You can try and retire it -- you can kill it off, even! -- but we will hound you until we get more.

Er. Not ME, personally. My mama raised me better than that. The unwashed masses, I mean.

Simon Haynes said...

You get a settee? Luxury!

waylander said...

Ya know not all of Spain is near the sea. Madrid is 1000m above sea level and damn cold at this time of year.

The Beautiful Schoolmarm said...

They drink sangria in friendly little gatherings at private homes, coffee with milk on the patios of breezy outdoor cafes, and red wine in the crush of town-wide celebrations. Moving to Spain would be bad for my creativity, I think. I would wallow in the real world.

Anonymous said...

Dear Miss Snark,

What do you think about agents who also write the same genre they represent? Is there conflict of interest there? Should a writer searching for an agent consider this a red flag, something to be avoided?

Thank you!

(leaving a pail of gin and some yummies for KY to express gratitude for your fun and informative blog. Sorry, I don't know George's phone number, or I'd offer that.)

Existential Man said...

(didn't want this lost 20 pages down on the thread, so posting it here)

and the hits just keep on comin'...

In my commentary on Frey, you'll remember I said:

This man is a sociopathic liar. NOTHING he says can be believed. Like most addicts, he has survived by his lying. Truth and fiction become blurred--whatever serves his purposes in the moment is all that matters.

...and in a later comment I said we will find out that everything he said was a lie...call me Carnac the Magnificent because here it is:

today, in a New York Times article, www.nytimes.com/2006/01/24/books/24frey.html?emc=eta1
it comes out that not only did Opra and her producers know Frey's story was false before it was aired, but that 98% of the book (having to do with treatment) is false, according to a number of people who worked at the Hazelden treatment center.

Anonymous said...

existential, quit hatin'.

Simon Haynes said...

Heh. My parents shifted to Spain when I was eight, and I grew up in the South a stone's throw from the (stony) beach. I did all my schooling in Spanish schools until we emigrated to Australia when I was 15.
Sangria is too finicky to take to the beach, and they didn't go in for that sort of public drinking anyway. Private homes and paellas - yum.

ScaramoucheX said...

Do it, Snark...you'll be spending only 25% of the time reading each one,arithmetically speaking. If you ever get around to accepting synopses of 100 words or less, I'll enter!

Lynn Raye Harris said...

Aw, Miss Snark, you can come visit me in Hawaii. I'll stand at the airport with a sign that says, MISS SNARK. You can wear a scarf and sunglasses, a la Grace Kelly, and speak in monosyllables. I won't ask questions, honest.

When we go to the beach, we'll stake out separate patches of sand at opposite ends and you can prop an umbrella just so. I promise not to sneak up and slip my camera quietly around the edge.

Instead of sangria, we'll have mai tais. Instead of flamenco, we'll have hula. I won't even tell George when you slip off with a hunky surfer.

It'll be a blast! But, uh, KY probably won't like the cats.....

Renee Q said...

Miss Snark:
How about the shortest synopsis or perhaps the Three Sentence Synopsis I have read about - telling your story in three sentences. Here's mine:

Big chief and Little chief make bargain.

Little chief breaks bargain.

Daughter pays.

Just a thought.