Special Occasion: Yanno, Thursday

Canned biscuits

Canned biscuits

The other morning I stuck these in the oven for Art Child’s breakfast. When she woke up and came in the kitchen she asked, “Is today a special day?”

Ooof.  I was never the picture of the Happy Housewife, never cooked breakfast daily, but I used to actually make breakfast regularly enough that no one thought anything of it to wake up to eggs or muffins on a weekday.  The above wasn’t making breakfast, this was popping open a tube and sticking overly sweet pre-made discs of dough in the oven.  I’ve been pleased with how I’ve forced myself to relax over the past several years; not everything has to be from scratch, the world doesn’t end and I’m less stressed if I’m busy or my back is hurting so I buy leaves already trimmed and washed in a bag for salad.  (Still make my own dressings, that bottled stuff should be banned.)

For Art Child to look at those biscuits and think we were either celebrating or there was a state test she forgot about…let’s just say it made me take a closer look at myself, in a broader sense than in the kitchen. Have I relaxed and adapted or have my standards dropped?

Both. Yes, it’s good to relax, not put so much pressure on myself. Some of this “relaxing” is due to enforced lessons of hurry-up-and-wait, both in the world of writing and in the world of medical needs parenting.  Wait for responses, call-backs, appointments with specialologists scheduled six months out, test results, watch and see how things develop.  As a parent in the specialized medical world, generally bad news comes fast and good news comes slow. As a wanna-be writer, it’s the opposite. Again, these are generalizations, there are exceptions both ways. In either world that bad news feels like a sucker punch, even if you’re sure it’s coming. And in both worlds, sometimes the ball gets dropped, and you don’t hear news until months after you could/should have. Either way, you learn that most things are not the emergency they feel like in your own mind.

And yes, my standards have dropped. I think it’s been necessary for my sanity. When I first began writing and sending queries, it was done through snail mail with SASEs. It often took a long time to get a response, but 99% of the time, you got one. I took long breaks, lots of gaps in my efforts to write and submit queries. The next time I was querying, most were done through email, and more agents were straightforward that if they weren’t interested, they wouldn’t respond. Ugh! For a little while.  Then I got used to it. I had to. It’s like sending in a job application, right? If they’re interested, they’ll contact you, if not they won’t.  Put into that perspective, it makes sense–though it’s still absolutely appreciated to get a response, positive or negative.  Lowered standards or preserving sanity, call it what you will. If they requested a full, you were pretty much guaranteed a personalized response.

Now?  Even on a request, people are now seeing bare bones form rejections, the same as on a query. This latest go-round I saw agents who don’t respond at all even to requested material. I have a hard time with this one. Requested means you sent a query and opening pages, they (or their intern) liked it enough to send you a note and ask for the full manuscript. I checked with other wanna-bees to try and read the coffee grounds between the non-existent lines, and it isn’t just me. A request for a full doesn’t mean anymore than what it is, so don’t start practicing your acceptance speech for the Nobel Prize in literature, you crazy-overactive-imagination-writer, you.  And yes, I know I shouldn’t be saying this out loud, let alone posting it on my blog, the internet is forever, some magical publisher or agent in the future could come across this and say hey! I was going to make Mrs Fringe an offer, but now I won’t. Obviously she’s whiny and difficult, a gnat of a wanna-be. How dare she try to hold on to any standards, think she deserves a little courtesy of a response?

I don’t mean to be difficult, though I’m fully aware that I’m whining. In many ways I’ve been lucky, received a fair share of requests, and gotten many lovely responses, personalized and complimentary. No one has ever told me my writing sucks and I should go submerge my head in my tank, stick to writing grocery lists. Thank God, because I am the worst shopping list writer on the Upper West side–three chicken scratches on the back of an old appointment card, and walk out of the store with $200 transformed into three environmentally friendly reusable bags.

I decided it’s time to slow my slipping standards, so I went to the Farmer’s Market the other day.


Saw mushrooms that looked like they belonged in the art fair.

Passed on these.

Passed on these.

Made a wish on a particularly resilient dandelion

These things really do spring up everywhere.

These things really do spring up everywhere.

Said a little prayer

IMG_3977And set about making a fresh baked breakfast of rhubarb muffins.

I can still chop, if uneven.

I can still chop, if uneven.

Oops, no sour cream.  Ok, not dropping standards, adapting with greek yogurt.

Works out the same

Works out the same


Fold the rhubarb in gently, Mrs Fringe!

Fold the rhubarb in gently, Mrs Fringe!

And then I couldn’t find one normal muffin pan. I found my teeny mini muffin pan, too small for those rhubarb pieces, and too annoying with such a thick batter. I found my muffin top pan, too shallow for the rhubarb. I found tart pans, springform pans, pie plates, and cookie sheets. No muffin pans.

Give up those expectations, and adapt.

Can I interest you in a slice of rhubarb bread?

Can I interest you in a slice of standard dropping rhubarb bread?





  1. Oooh, rhubarb bread! I love rhubarb; there’s a place by my grandparents’ called Delicious Orchards, and theirs is the standard against which I measure all strawberry rhubarb pie.

    I love dandelions, and so I love the dandelion art!

    I need to start visiting my local farmer’s market. It’s there on Tuesday and on Saturdays, and the people who come in bring some awesome stuff. I’ve had a long trough of laziness in my kitchen that I need to shrug off. I spent a lot of yesterday cleaning and weeding stuff, though, so maybe I’ll be able to continue the trend.

    I’m glad that submissions have gone almost whole hog electronic. I actually threw away my physical rejection letters a couple of years ago, not one of them personalized, and many of them not even on a full piece of paper, but rather clearly printed out six to a sheet and then cut up. I’ve already gotten more personal R’s this year than any time previous.

    This week is six weeks on my full request and I’m trying to ignore it. I’ll nudge at some point, if necessary, but I feel like six weeks is too early for that. While intellectually I agree, a full isn’t a contract, emotionally I’m super excited and on tenterhooks. It IS one (possible) step closer.


    1. Rhubarb is delicious! I can’t eat strawberries, so a lot of the things sold with rhubarb in it are ruled out for me. 🙂 Sounds like you’ve been productive, you can keep it going! If you want 😉
      I agree, electronic submissions are better for me, the cost alone makes it worthwhile–and yes, I remember those skinny little rejection strips. Nice though, when the whole thing was mailed back with notes in it. 🙂
      I’m glad all is going well for you, I’m sending positive yes! vibes for that full. No matter what/how much we know, a full request makes all our hopes and dreams go into overdrive. I definitely haven’t followed the path laid out by the forums, I got a good amount of requests and personalized responses from the beginning. But, never the next step. Yanno, the one that counts.
      Happy Memorial Day!


      1. Happy Memorial Day! Just got back from a BBQ (or as that particular friend refers to it, Meat Day). Elka attended as well, and also several children, one of which was 2 or so years old and kept saying “dog” in a quiet voice and touching her gently. No rhubarb anything, and I felt its lack sharply! Though somebody did make “Dunkaroo Dip”.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. lol, Meat Day!–not for this vegetarian 😉 Aww, Elka is a good girl. Maybe you’ll have to pick up some rhubarb and make yourself a treat this week 🙂


  2. I love scones don’t have them very often usually just can’t be bothered with making them but I do like them freshly baked. I was never a big breakfast maker it is only the last couple of years that I have taken to having big meals here and yes I like it and the girls like it not sure about Tim though


    1. Freshly baked everything is amazing. I’m a carb gal, all the way. 🙂 Cooking can be very relaxing, when you aren’t pressed for time–and I bet Tim loves it when you do. ❤


  3. I’ve been sitting here for a few minutes now, trying to figure out what . . . I’m feeling something after reading your post but I’m not quite sure what it is.

    Disquiet, maybe. Because I get what you mean, I know how it feels — relative to writing now, as I suck when it comes to cooking — but writing, the sheer effort of it, the waiting and hoping, not hearing back or reading that cursory “Dear Author” email.

    You have to adapt. As for setting the bar a little lower, is there anything wrong with trying to make your way a little easier? Life is filled with enough disappointments. So fuck the muffin pans, in the end, you still have something tasty.

    And as for querying and all that, you get into the fairness issue, as in: No fair, agent person, to request a full from me and never fucking respond. It isn’t good business, imo. But if that’s the way they want to play it, let ’em. You know you’re a good writer. I would suggest that you keep taking that next step. One of these days, you’re gonna look up and see a hand reaching out to you, ready to haul your talented butt to the next level.

    Adapt, yes. But give up expectations, mrs fringe?

    Fuck that.

    xoxo kk

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I ❤ you, kk. Yes, adapting is a positive thing, and necessary. I don't know about that hand, though. I used to believe it was coming, now? Not so much. Is that negative or self preservation? I really don't know.


      1. Self-preservation I think. If you don’t wish on a star, you won’t be hurt when it doesn’t come true.

        But the natural state of the universe is entropy. Change. Chaos. Stardust and galaxies moving and jostling and colliding. To what end–Black Hole or Super Nova?

        Do nothing and that’s exactly what will happen. Static is just white noise.


Join the Discussion

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.