Keeping Your Butt in the Chair

This is, à mon avis, the most difficult part about writing, folks. I've been having some trouble with it lately myself, so I thought I'd dedicate a post to the subject.

• Make a list of your usual distractions. It's helpful to recognize your weaknesses before they become an issue. Do you obsessively check e-mail? Go out for a coffee? Play Farmville? Whatever it is, write it down. Being aware of it will help you stop doing it (see below).

• Block out time to write. Scheduling is half the battle, mes auteurs. Pick a time that works well for you and do your best to stick to it. If you're a morning person, 6:00 am is great; if not, maybe not so much. Be as regular in your commitment to writing as you can, even (especially) if you're not writing every day.

• Get any distractions out of your system before you sit down to write. Trying to quit all your distractions cold turkey will probably result in your caving and going back to them to blow off steam, potentially during time you'd otherwise spend writing. Play your games, check your e-mail, tweet, update Facebook. Then write. And write when you're supposed to, not just in between rounds of StarCraft.

• Take steps to prevent distractions while writing. If you can't stop checking Twitter, turn off your Internet connection. If you keep getting up to see whether the guy next door is still trimming his hedges into the shapes of Jersey Shore cast members, close your blinds. &c, &c.

• Schedule regular breaks. You're not a machine; it's just as important to know when to stop writing as it is to set a time to start. I usually take ten minutes off for every hour I set aside. If you try to write through your break and you're not seriously on a roll, you'll probably end up more prone to your usual distractions anyway.

• Reward yourself for sticking to your schedule. After you finish your hour of writing, go get that coffee. After a week of sticking to your schedule, buy yourself a new book. The more you reward yourself for a job well done, the more you'll start looking forward to that scheduled writing time you've set aside. Pavlov! He was perhaps on to something.

That's all I've got for you today, meine Autoren. How do you keep your butts in your chairs each day?

This Is A Business: Redux

I first made this point a little over a year ago, gentle readers, but it bears repeating.

The other day I overheard a conversation in which one book-loving acquaintance of mine expressed the opinion that selling e-books amounts to a betrayal of the physical book.

Let me be the first to say: this a bunch of maudlin nonsense.

The book business is precisely that, mes auteurs: a business. Yes, in many instances we're selling art, but I've always been of the opinion that the art of the book is almost always found in its content, not in its form; if a majority of consumers want their books electronically, any publisher or bookseller resisting that change will likely be driven out of business. If it sounds Darwinian, that's because it is. If you're not selling what people want, you're not going to be in business very long.

This isn't at all to say that the physical book is going extinct (though hardcover fiction may, à mon avis, be more or less gone within a few years)—I'm only saying that refusing to cultivate an electronic platform or sell e-books due to the misguided notion that you're somehow betraying an inanimate cultural medium is, well, childish. Books aren't people; they don't have feelings. Those who really love them will buy and sell them in whatever format is available.

The book is very old, cats & kittens, but before we had them we had scrolls and before that we had tablets and before that we had oral traditions. The codex—a book with a cover and pages—hasn't been around forever and it won't be around forever, and the sooner publishers, booksellers, and other industry insiders realize this and not only accommodate but embrace the changes that are revolutionizing the way people read, the better.

This is Why You Always Meet Your Deadlines (Rerun)

Meetings abound this week, mes auteurs, so I'll be posting reruns today and tomorrow. Enjoy!

Episode: "This is Why You Always Meet Your Deadlines"
Originally aired: Thursday, September 2nd, 2010

In case you hadn't heard, Yahoo! sports columnist Adrian Wojnarowski (say that three times fast) has been sued by Penguin Books for failure to meet his deadline regarding a book about former North Carolina State University basketball coach Jim Valvano. The original manuscript delivery date? August 1, 2007.

Wojnarowski was originally offered a cool $400,000 (of which he received $140,000), but his repeated delays caused Penguin to reduce the total advance to $325,000. Now, over three years later, they've canceled the book and are taking Wojnarowski to court to recover the $140,000 they already paid him.

I wish I could say this kind of story was uncommon, but honestly, the only unusual aspect is the filing of a lawsuit. Books are delayed by months (sometimes years) all the time, and failure to meet deadline (sometimes more than once) is not unheard of. I think, however, that publishers' patience is particularly short in the midst of the recession, so I wouldn't be surprised if they were to become even less lenient about missed deadlines, particularly for books bought for six- or seven-figure advances.

The reasons for delays can range from author laziness to the publisher's disapproval of various drafts (that is, sending them back for rewrites) to changes in current events that warrant substantial revisions (generally affecting only nonfiction). Remember, too, that most advances are cut into pieces: often one installment is paid on signing, another on receipt of the manuscript by the publisher, and occasionally a third on or around the date of publication. If you're getting $400,000 and you've already gotten $140,000 just for signing a piece of a paper, one can see how your motivation might be temporarily shot.

That said: this business is slow enough as-is, so as début writers who always want to make the best of impressions, it's in your collective best interest to get your manuscripts and revisions delivered on time. Always be professional, always be on time, and always ask your agent or editor if you have any questions about deadlines, timelines, or any of the other myriad -lines to which you might be subject.

Tip o' the Day: Part 4 of 4

My fourth and final installment in this miniseries, mes auteurs, has to do with (à mon avis) the most difficult aspect of the writing life: dealing with rejection.

As I've said before, a rejection of your work—no matter how strongly you identify with it or believe it to be an extension of yourself—is just that: a rejection of your work. It's not an indictment of your character, it's not a dismissal of your accomplishments or promise as an artist, it's not a personal attack. All it means is that the agent or editor in question doesn't want to represent you or pay you based on the work you've created. That's it.

That said: rejection still sucks. Nobody wants to be told something he/she created isn't wanted, especially if he/she spent years crafting it. It can be especially upsetting if one gets relentless form rejections, or (though slightly more encouraging) receives a few partial requests but no invitations to submit the full ms.

The truth is, however, that just as discipline and talent are necessary (though not sufficient) conditions for success as a writer, so, too, is perseverance. Refusing to quit in and of itself won't necessarily get your work published, but without it, you'll be steamrolled over by the inevitable rejections and will never get your writing to the right agent or editor.

Be prepared to get rejected hundreds—if not thousands—of times. Understand that this business is exceptionally susceptible to bias and subjective/individual taste, meaning that simply because your work is rejected, that doesn't mean it isn't good. Remember that a lot of people who are/were much better writers than you were/have been rejected a lot more than you have been. Finally, keep in mind that there are some people who for whatever reason—celebrity, better connections, more money, &c—will have a leg up on you that has nothing to do with their (or your) writing, and you need to be writing as well as possible and submitting your work as persistently as you can in order to partially offset this imbalance.

Stupid? Yes. But, to quote Bender "Bending" Rodriguez, the truth is often stupid.

If anyone has any particularly good methods for dealing with rejection, please post them in the comments—as for me, I find that pinning up the personalized/tiered rejections is encouraging, and the form rejections can make pretty good art projects. In all seriousness, though, I read the rejection, have a snack/drink/nap, and get right back to writing and submitting. What else is there to do?

Tip o' the Day: Part 3 of 4

In a perfect world, mes auteurs, the writing business (like all businesses, enterprises, systems, &c) would be entirely meritocratic: everyone would get a fair shake, the best writing would be selected for publication, and talent, discipline, and hard work would pay off regardless of extraneous factors like luck, emotion, nepotism, and social status.

Alas, dear friends, we do not live in a perfect world.

Because of this, you have to do something besides read great books and write great books if you want to increase your odds of getting published: you have to network. And, as the name might imply, networking is... well, work. Details? Why, sure, if you insist.

1. Networking is necessary. While some of you may have a strong negative—yea, perhaps even visceral—reaction to the prospect of spending any of your writerly energies doing anything apart from reading and writing, you need to understand that networking is a necessary part of the writer's life.

Think of it this way: if you're interviewing two candidates who are more or less identical on paper and equally impress you in person, are you going to go with the candidate who was initially recommended to you by your Most Trusted Bro, or the guy who walked in because he saw your ad on Monster.com? Exactly. And, unsurprisingly, agents think the same way. This goes back to what I was saying two weeks ago about who you know: there's a certain amount of prerequsite what (read: good writing) you've got to have, and after that, it's all who.

This is absolutely not to say that you must know someone in the industry in order to get published. All I'm saying is that the more people you know, the more doors you'll open to opportunities that you might otherwise have missed by being an unknown quantity.

2. Chances are, you know someone. Think about the people you might have a connection to in the industry. Does your best friend have an agent? Is your fraternity brother working in the industry? Do you have friends of friends in mfa programs, literary agencies, independent book stores? Is your aunt a book conference junkie? &c &c. Make a list of the people who you could reasonably ask about the industry, representation, getting your foot in the door, and so on. I'm willing to bet you'll come up with more than you might at first expect.

3. If it turns out you know no one, don't despair. Okay, let's say I'm wrong and you know absolutely no one in the industry (worse, you don't even know of anyone who might even be related to the industry in the most tangential way). You're not doomed if you query agents to whom you haven't been recommended or haven't met at conferences, so long as you follow their guidelines and send them a well-crafted query. In fact, if you get a "close, but no thanks" e-mail from one of them, you can refer to this if and when you query them with a different project down the line.

In the meantime—and if you can afford it—consider attending conferences, readings, workshops, and other literary events, and do your best to meet industry insiders (authors, agents, editors, librarians, sales(ahem)people, &c) and develop strong professional relationships with them. The publishing industry isn't really as impossibly huge as you might think, and any given person who's been in it for a few years will have a lot of connections that might come in handy when you're trying to sell your book.

4. Relationships require upkeep. A quick note on the above: all relationships require work, and professional relationships (especially in this industry) are no exception. If your friend lands your dream agent, don't let jealousy consume you: foster your relationship with that friend, ask about him or her, trade work, and hopefully down the line he or she will be able to help you get representation via recommendation to his/her agent, getting you in touch with an agent or editor who may be interested in your work, and so on.

The flip side of this issue is: don't be creepy. Don't reply to form rejections from agents in an attempt to be Super Best Bros. Don't pitch your MS to agents or editors at/in inappropriate times/places (e.g. the bathroom at T.G.I. Friday's). Don't corner your friend of a friend's girlfriend's brother's former roommate at a party because he once worked at a publishing house after college. You get the idea.

That's all I've got for today, bros and she-bros. If you have any comments/questions/epiphanies/ideas/vitriol/profound insights/divine revelations, you know where to go.

Tip o' the Day: Part 2 of 4

Today's tip is a piece of advice I once received from a college professor, and it may be the best aphorism on the creative process I've ever heard: "There is no thinking except in the writing. There is no writing except in the rewriting."

Revision is essential to the writer's work, at least insofar as doing so is a an actual re-visioning of the author's original intent—a method of getting closer to what he or she meant and desired to communicate in the initial draft. The first words, mes auteurs, are not always the best words, and if you want to be published someday, you've got to know (or learn) to revise.

Some writers prefer to revise as they go along, writing passages or chapters, revising/editing them, and moving on; others prefer to write the entire novel before going through for a second pass. I fall more into the former group than the latter, but I don't think either approach is superior to the other. My theory is: do whatever works for you.

Unless! (And here's the caveat you knew was coming): unless what "works for you" is not revising. There may—although I personally doubt it—be an argument for this in the realm of poetry, but I don't think it's ever a good idea to send unrevised (un-re-visioned, un-revisited, &c) fiction or nonfiction out into the world for potential publication (or, heaven forbid, self-publication). As mentioned above, the first draft is where the thinking takes place; the second (and subsequent) drafts are where the writing takes place, the correct words are chosen, the plot is tightened up, the craft is honed, the characters made flesh.

All this to say: you're going to be writing more than one draft, and if you're convinced you're a one-draft wonder, you're almost certainly wrong. Again, I'm not aiming this advice at the one-in-ten-million outlier. I'm aiming it at you.

That said, meine Autoren: what's your process for drafting new work? Do you edit as you go along, or once the entire draft is complete? Do you cut passages apart with scissors? Reorder chapters? Do you go through two drafts? Two dozen? Two hundred? Do you tend to revise on your own at first, or do you immediately enlist the help of others for your second (and subsequent) drafts?

To the comments!

Tip o' the Day: Part 1 of 4

And now for something a little different!

This week I'll be focusing on the best writing advice I've heard/seen/received, mes auteurs, and I'll be kicking it off with some thoughts on what I think is the most crucial ingredient necessary to a writer's successful career: discipline.

As I've said before: even more than talent, a successful writer needs discipline. A modestly talented, disciplined writer can have a solid career with luck and hard work; an undisciplined writer of immense talent probably won't, since he or she will never actually finish anything, write regularly, or develop the kinds of relationships and connections that, generally speaking, grease the wheels of the Great Publishing Machine.

I'm going to preface this with the admission that, yes, there are exceptions to every rule, and I'm sure anyone could come up with a list of at least a dozen writers who were immensely talented, terribly undisciplined, and either had successful commercial careers, were widely recognized as geniuses after their deaths, or both. This advice isn't aimed at the one-in-ten-million outlier. It's aimed at you.

In patented, battle-tested Bullet-O-Vision™:

· Set and keep a writing schedule. Write regularly, if not daily. Do not wait to be inspired; writing is work. Even if you can only spare an hour a day three days a week, set that time aside and don't give it up for anything except a real emergency. Try to write at the same time of day each time you write, and be sure to select a time that works for you. Don't get up at 4:30 in the morning if you're not a morning person, because your writing will reflect this.

· Write the scenes you want to write when you want to write them. This isn't to say you should wait to be inspired, because (as mentioned above) you shouldn't. What I'm saying is: if you get to your daily hour of writing and are really excited to write the scene where your protagonist escapes from the robot Nazis, write that scene, even if isn't chronologically next in your plot. You have to stay excited and enthused, mes auteurs.

· Maintain a writing space. Find a place that works for you and write there consistently. It's a little Pavlovian, but it gets results: you'll train yourself to recognize that this time and this space are reserved for writing, and you'll find yourself undistracted and ready to write after a few writing sessions at the same time and in the same place. Again: try to write regularly, if not daily.

· Set deadlines and stick to them. Deadlines will be very real once you sign your first contract, so my advice is to get used to them early. If you can reasonably write 5,000 words a week, make that your goal; if you want to finish a chapter a month, set the 30th/31st as your deadline and stick with it. Reward yourself when you meet or exceed your deadlines and goals!

· Keep a notebook. When you are inspired, you won't necessarily be at your desk or computer. Record anything you think might be useful: images, snippets of overheard conversation, epiphanies, &c. Save the things you cut out of your novel for potential future use. Review them periodically. You'll be surprised how often they come in handy.

· If you fall off the horse, get right back on. Things come up: family drama, extra work at the office, family emergencies, holiday extravaganzas. Some weeks you might not get to your writing. If and when this happens, don't stress out, go into overdrive, or—worst of all—give up. Get back into your writing regimen as soon as you can and don't look back.

That's all for today, meine Autoren. Thoughts? Ideas? Comments? You know what to do.

Singles: Not Just for Kraft or eHarmony

In case you haven't heard, mes auteurs, Amazon is introducing Amazon Singles, a new variety of content aimed at providing Ye (We?) Unwashed Masses with 30- to 90-page chapbooks, novellas, pamphlets, and so on. From the article:

Ideas and the words to deliver them should be crafted to their natural length, not to an artificial marketing length that justifies a particular price or a certain format.

— Russ Grandinetti, Vice President for Kindle Content, Amazon

First of all, bravo, Amazon. Second of all, IT'S ABOUT TIME, I TOTALLY HAD THIS IDEA ALREADY. Like, over a year ago. It's a good thing we have the Internet these days for keeping track of things like this.

I believe the sale of e-chapbooks, e-novellas, and even (gasp!) e-short stories via Amazon will help revitalize two flagging genres of American writing: poetry and literary fiction. Don't want to take a chance on a début poetry collection? Try the shorter, cheaper chapbook. Not sure you want to buy that up-and-coming author's novel? Buy a short story or two. Only have a two-hour train ride and don't want to start a whole new book? Try an essay or a novella! Don't even get me started on the potential literary magazine renaissance.

The literary world is changing, bros and she-bros, and it's doing so very quickly. Smaller publishers have more opportunities now than ever before to showcase their (read: your) work electronically, so if you're not signed with one of the Big Six, don't despair—your publisher may be much nimbler and more savvy than a larger, more traditional house, and though you might not become the next J.K. Rowling, you certainly stand to gain a lot by having your work available to an ever-growing and (omni)voracious audience.

Again, however, I feel I should caution you: this does not mean an Internet free-for-all, and this does not mean that self-publishing is the way to go. I'm not saying you're stupid or impulsive, mes auteurs (far from it!), but simply because one can flood the Internet with work that hasn't been edited, marketed, or even reviewed by professionals—who, let's face it, sort of know what they're doing—doesn't mean one should.

It's Who You Know

There's something I've learned in my time on the sales floor, mes auteurs, that I think not only applies to sales, publishing, and/or writing in general, but to life: up until a certain point, it's all about what you know. After that (and I think most people cross this line earlier than they think), it's all about who you know.

You do your research. You learn the basics and mechanics of writing. You write a terrible novel. You learn from it. You write a pretty good novel. Maybe you even write a stellar one.

You do more research. You learn how to craft a query letter. You figure out which literary agents represent the kind of work you're producing and you send them that query letter. You personalize your queries and you follow all directions to the letter.

At this point, you've more or less exhausted the what portion of your knowledge.

To be fair, this filters out a substantial number of people: you'd be surprised how many queries (or attempts at queries) agents receive from people who (1) are functionally illiterate, (2) know nothing about the publishing industry or how it works, (3) are crazy, (4) are unable to follow directions, (5) haven't actually finished the novel they're pitching, &c &c. You're reading this blog, though, so chances are slim that any of these apply to you.

The number of people trying to sell a novel these days, however, is so unimaginably huge that even with all the hacks and lunatics filtered out, you're still facing long odds. Knowing what can only get you halfway there, if that. Now you've got to know who.

Caveat: thousands of writers are discovered/find representation every year without knowing a soul in the industry. They've never attended a conference, workshop, or seminar in their lives; they're just truly fantastic writers who found agents with whom their work resonates. The odds of this, alas, are astronomical. You should, à mon avis, endeavor to improve them.

Maybe you have a great relationship with a professor and she offers to show your short stories to her agent; maybe your best friend has an agent and he thinks your work would interest her, too; maybe your uncle's former roommate is an agent and your uncle offers to hook you up; maybe an agent you pitched your novel to at that conference last month wants to see a full MS.

The possibilities are endless, and when you aren't writing or reading, you should be thinking about networking: specifically, think of people you know who can help you further your career. No one sells their book solo; take the time to cultivate relationships that can get your foot in the door down the road, and your odds of one day seeing your book in (e)print will rise more than you might think.

Titles and Covers and Sales, Oh My (Rerun)

Again, due to meetings and required reading, we've got a rerun here at PMN today. I'll be back with new content tomorrow; try to soldier on without me for another 24 hours! — E

Episode: "Titles and Covers and Sales, Oh My"
Originally aired: Thursday, June 17th, 2010

Guest post submissions are in, mes auteurs, and now the time-consuming (yet thoroughly enjoyable) task of selecting five of them to run the week of Monday, June 28th falls to yours truly. Results will be in soon!

In yesterday's comments, the question of how titles and covers play into the sales discussion came up. Let me, for educational purposes, present the following (entirely fictional) one act play featuring sales rep #1, sales rep #2, marketing guy, and art guy.

sales rep #1, sales rep #2, marketing guy, and art guy are all gathered around the conference room table with myriad other publishing professionals.

sales rep #1: I don't know, art guy. This cover just screams romance to me, and Dudes and Bros and Explosions is a thriller.

art guy: True, but one of the main characters is a woman who tries to be "one of the bros" but then falls in love with the protagonist, yeah? We figured it was more of a romantic suspense.

sales rep #2: No, we're aiming for a male audience. We need to take the clinch off the cover and throw in some dudes. Maybe some bros.

sales rep #1: And some explosions.

sales rep #2: Definitely some explosions.

marketing guy: Also, what about the title? I mean, yeah, it's kind of intriguing, but what about the title we launched with?

sales rep #1: You mean The Huzenlaub Effect?

marketing guy: Yeah, that! I'd pick that up in a book store.

sales rep #2: We thought it sounded too academic. Plus, it turns out it's pretty similar to the Huzenlaub process, which is...

sales rep #1 (reading from BlackBerry): "...a form of parboiling designed to retain more of the nutrients in rice."

sales rep #2: Yes. That.

art guy: Okay, we stick with Dudes and Bros and Explosions. But I'm not sold on cutting the clinch. I mean, hot women on book covers sell. And the dude has one arm around her and he's holding a grenade in the other. I don't see what's not to like.

sales rep #1: You made the protagonist look like Fabio. He's described in the book as more of a Kiefer Sutherland type.

sales rep #2: With an eye patch.

sales rep #1: Yeah, an eye patch.

marketing guy: Eye patches don't sell.

sales rep #1: Eye patches totally sell. Boy Wizard with an Eye Patch sold three million copies in hardcover.

marketing guy: Boy Wizard with an Eye Patch was written by J.K. Meyer. She could have written the character with two eye patches, leprosy, and a daytime job on FOX & Friends and it still would have sold.

sales rep #2: All right, what if we foil emboss the title? Shiny things sell.

art guy: Too expensive.

sales rep #1: What if we make it a trade paper original and drop the price point to $16.99?

sales rep #2: That might work.

marketing guy: You know what? I think I like Bros and Explosions and Dudes better.

The curtain closes as everyone at the table tries to speak at the same time.


fin

Personalities and Professionalism

Every once in awhile, mes auteurs, I post about the little dos and don'ts of interacting with agents: what to say and not to say, how to go about saying it, asking appropriate questions without driving your agent up the wall, &c, &c. After having read Bill Clegg's Portrait of the Addict as a Young Man, however, I must ask: what kind of behaviors would you and wouldn't you tolerate from your (hypothetical) agent? How far would you go to preserve your working relationship?

If you haven't read Clegg's memoir, allow me to summarize: for reasons that aren't made entirely clear, Bill Clegg decides to throw away his relationship with his family, flagrantly cheat on his live-in boyfriend, and abandon his career (deserting his pregnant business partner and dozens of clients in the process) so he can blow through $70,000 worth of savings smoking crack. (He relapses or drops out of rehab more than once.) Clegg portrays himself as not very nice and not overwhelmingly intelligent, though he does (pre-crack binge, at least) sound funny and fairly charming. That aside, however, he sounds like someone of whom I wouldn't even want to be a friend of a friend of a friend, much less someone I'd want to work with. (Full disclosure: I have never met Bill Clegg in real life.)

Here's the kicker, though: after he finally cleaned up his act, Clegg—who never actually apologized to the the aforementioned abandoned business partner—didn't seem to suffer at all from having burnt nearly every bridge he had. He not only got a pretty cushy job with William Morris Endeavor Entertainment, but even got many of his former clients back. Clients he had abandoned with no explanation so he could smoke a bunch of crack, drink liver-brittling amounts of room service vodka, and have sex with $400/hour prostitutes.

Granted, this is far and away an outlier in the Realm of Recorded Agent Behaviors, but I think it warrants attention not only because of Clegg's high profile, but because of the relative lack of professional repercussions he seems to have suffered.

This might be an easy one, but prithee, inform me: would you have gone back to an agent like Bill Clegg if you believed (s)he were the best fit for your work and/or would get you the best deal available? What would and wouldn't you tolerate in a relationship with your agent?

Sticking it to the Ban

In case you were unaware, liebe Autoren, this Saturday, September 25th through Sunday, October 3rd is Banned Books Week! I heartily recommend you select and read a title from this list of frequently challenged books (browsable by author, year, and decade!) sometime this month or next. I also encourage you, if you are Twitter-inclined, to tweet on the subject via use of the #SpeakLoudly hashtag (see below).

This month more than any, gentle readers, reminds us of the importance of our First Amendment rights:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

(Emphasis mine.)

In particular, I'm thinking of the YA novel SPEAK, which I've learned from the author, Laurie Halse Anderson (via Janet Reid and Tahereh Mafi) has been called "pornography" by Wesley Scroggins, an associate professor of management at Missouri State University. (His original op-ed in the Springfield News-Leader can be found here.)

Challenging books with sexual or otherwise "questionable" content is nothing new; Joyce's Ulysses was branded pornography when it was first published serially in the United States in 1918 (a charge that wasn't dismissed until the Supreme Court case United States v. One Book Called Ulysses in 1933). Many profoundly important books—including several major works of Western literature—have been challenged or banned at some point in their histories, and it's due in large part to the First Amendment and individual teachers', librarians', and activists' commitment to free speech and opposition to censorship that these books have been made available to United States citizens, students included.

Scroggins maintains that not only should SPEAK be banned, but modern classics like Slaughter-House Five (which, according to Republic Superintendent Vern Minor, has been removed from all school libraries) should also be unavailable to students (mostly due to use of "the f-word"). For context, the district in question teaches abstinence-only sex education to all students, and Scroggins has also been involved in Reclaiming Missouri for Christ, a seminar whose purpose was "to educate... all citizens... to the role of fundamental, Biblical Christianity in the establishment... of our legal... system" (again, emphasis mine). The full quote is in Laurie's post.

I, like Laurie, fear that parents (and possibly even educators) reading Scroggins' op-ed will believe what Scroggins is saying, and will pressure schools to remove valuable books from their libraries as a result. I therefore propose the following, Concerned Parents of America: before you make a decision to remove a book from a library, read it yourself. If you find you disagree with the content, communicate this to your child. Be aware of what your children are reading, watching on television, or browsing on the Internet. Just because you determine a book is unacceptable for you or your child does not give you the right to deprive other people of the right to read that book. Period.

I urge you, mes auteurs, via Laurie's post, to comment on Scroggins' op-ed, write a letter to Superintendent Vern Minor, write a letter to the News-Leader, or simply tweet this post, Laurie's, Tahereh's, or Janet's, using the #SpeakLoudly hashtag.

The freedom to read what we wish is precious and protected in this country. We don't know what we have until it's taken away.

Virtual Particles are the New Vampires

I've always considered myself something of a science buff, mes auteurs (although I find actually doing science, complete with statistics and differential equations, too taxing for my literary sensibilities), so I was surprised and delighted to read this article in the Telegraph about the recent rise in popularity of popular science books.

As noted in the article, if people were buying popular science books five or ten years ago, they were largely about evolutionary biology (and all the "religion versus science"-type arguments those books seem to entail). Recently, however—and, in my opinion, due in large part to physics projects like the Large Hadron Collider—popular science books about astrophysics, quantum mechanics, and parallel universes have seen unparalleled demand (pun totally intended). Books about evolution, biochemistry, and other scientific disciplines are selling, too, but it's the physics behind the structure, origin, and fate of the universe that seem to be intriguing The Reading Public these days.

I've been into popular physics since at least the late '90s, reading and re-reading Stephen Hawking (A Brief History of Time, The Universe in a Nutshell, A Briefer History of Time), Carl Sagan (Pale Blue Dot, The Demon-Haunted World, Billions and Billions), and Brian Greene (The Elegant Universe, The Fabric of the Cosmos), so while this trend may be new to a lot of people, it isn't for me (although I am, again, surprised and delighted). I will say I'm glad that more people are reading Asimov and Hawking, even if it doesn't balance out the number of people reading Stephenie Meyer and The Situation.

What I'm interested to know is: is this new and/or surprising to you, bros and she-bros? Do you regularly read popular science, and, if not, do you think you'll start doing so? Will you pick up a copy of The Grand Design or Why Evolution is True in the coming weeks or months? If so, why? If not, why not?

Bonus question: if a train leaves Boston at 5:00 pm traveling in a straight line toward Tallahassee at 90 MPH, and another train leaves Tallahassee at 7:00 pm traveling in a straight line toward Boston at 120 MPH, how long will it be before I fall asleep?

This is Why You Always Meet Your Deadlines

In case you hadn't heard, Yahoo! sports columnist Adrian Wojnarowski (say that three times fast) has been sued by Penguin Books for failure to meet his deadline regarding a book about former North Carolina State University basketball coach Jim Valvano. The original manuscript delivery date? August 1, 2007.

Wojnarowski was originally offered a cool $400,000 (of which he received $140,000), but his repeated delays caused Penguin to reduce the total advance to $325,000. Now, over three years later, they've canceled the book and are taking Wojnarowski to court to recover the $140,000 they already paid him.

I wish I could say this kind of story was uncommon, but honestly, the only unusual aspect is the filing of a lawsuit. Books are delayed by months (sometimes years) all the time, and failure to meet deadline (sometimes more than once) is not unheard of. I think, however, that publishers' patience is particularly short in the midst of the recession, so I wouldn't be surprised if they were to become even less lenient about missed deadlines, particularly for books bought for six- or seven-figure advances.

The reasons for delays can range from author laziness to the publisher's disapproval of various drafts (that is, sending them back for rewrites) to changes in current events that warrant substantial revisions (generally affecting only nonfiction). Remember, too, that most advances are cut into pieces: often one installment is paid on signing, another on receipt of the manuscript by the publisher, and occasionally a third on or around the date of publication. If you're getting $400,000 and you've already gotten $140,000 just for signing a piece of a paper, one can see how your motivation might be temporarily shot.

That said: this business is slow enough as-is, so as début writers who always want to make the best of impressions, it's in your collective best interest to get your manuscripts and revisions delivered on time. Always be professional, always be on time, and always ask your agent or editor if you have any questions about deadlines, timelines, or any of the other myriad -lines to which you might be subject.

The Blockbuster Phenomenon

Nathan's post from yesterday regarding Jonathan Franzen's Freedom has gotten me thinking about the blockbuster model for book sales in general. Why does the industry invest millions of dollars in a tiny percentage of books that they hope against hope will turn a huge profit? Why do fewer than 1% of books pay for the acquisition of the remaining 99%? Why are the likes of James Patterson, Sarah Palin, and (saints preserve us) The Situation running the show?

Part of the reason is, as I've mentioned before, a sort of singlemindedness endemic to the industry that assumes anything that has worked in the past will continue to do so in the future. If Esteban Fancypants' novel The Art Dealer's Wife becomes a huge hit, he may well end up with a seven-figure offer for his second (or second and third) books. True, it's not entirely fair to blame the industry for this; time and again, consumers have returned to a brand (read: author) they love, and if enough people hear great things about (and later buy) Mr. Fancypants' first book, he's got an established audience for his future titles. Publishers throw money at "sure bets" because publishing has been and always will be something of a gamble, and if there's any indication that leveraging an author with a proven track record can produce more profit, they'll be all over that deal like a monkey on a cupcake.

HOWEVER. Simply because Mr. Fancypants' first novel sold 5 million copies doesn't mean his second and third novels will perform similarly, and for every story of the out-of-the-blue début novelist whose first book sold millions of copies, there's a story of an out-of-the-blue début novelist whose second book tanked. Maybe the second book received bad reviews; maybe it was so different from the first book that it alienated his or her established audience; maybe it comes to light that the author is a terrible person and nobody wants to be caught dead reading his or her book; the number of reasons is potentially infinite. Thing is (and it is fair to blame the industry for this), publishers 1.) perpetuate the blockbuster cycle by driving prices up at auction to patently absurd levels, and 2.) tend to chase losing brands by throwing more money at them long after the authors' audiences have either stopped caring or died.

What, then, can be done about this, mes auteurs?

Well, publishers could consistently include and enforce clauses in contracts stipulating that authors whose books fail to earn out their advances must return the balance of the advance to the publisher, but that's not going to happen unless the industry adopts this policy across the board (not to mention it's not really fair to authors who receive little in the way of marketing and co-op dollars).

I'm interested by this NPR article from last year, which mentions HarperStudio's experimenting with publishing two books a month, neither with an advance of over $100,000, and attracting authors by promising a 50/50 split on the book's profit. While I'm not sure this exact model is a solution, I think programs like it may offer a way out of the boom-and-bust, all-or-nothing blockbuster model that prevails in the industry today.

What say you, gentle readers?

He Said, She Said

I don't know whether this will become a regular segment, mes auteurs, but from time to time my myriad opinions on topics not strictly sales-related begin to back up, and I find I have to share them (whether or not they've been solicited).

"So," he said, "let us discuss dialog tags."

If you're not familiar, dialog tags are words like "said," "asked," "yelled," "shouted," &c that modify passages spoken by characters in short stories and novels to indicate speech (and sometimes the manner of speech). Some authorities maintain that all of them are acceptable, others that only "said" and "asked" are okay, and even a few hardline minimalists who only accept "said." I vacillate between the second and third categories.

There are a couple of reasons for this. First, I find properly done dialog tags beyond "said" and "asked" distracting. If characters are constantly hollering, yelling, whispering, yodeling, beseeching, imploring, choking, rasping, and croaking, I can't focus as well on the story. I should be able to tell whether a character is doing these things within the context of the scene; authors shouldn't need to communicate this to readers directly.

Which of the below do you find more effective?

"No!" Anthony shouted.

"No!" Anthony said. Susan recoiled at the force of his reply.

You probably don't even need the exclamation mark in that second one. Is it Shakespeare? No. Does it get the point across? I think so.

Second, I find that the majority of dialog tags beyond "said" and "asked" simply aren't done properly. For example, you can't "smile" or "chuckle" a line of dialog. You can smile while saying something or chuckle after saying something, but "'No,' Sue smiled," and "'Why not,' Dad chuckled" are both annoying and physically impossible. (Please note the difference between "'Yes,' Sue smiled" and "'Yes.' Sue smiled.")

Final thought: I think "asked" is sort of superfluous, since the question mark in the line of dialog already tells you that what is being said is being asked, but I find it relatively unobtrusive, so I don't have a major beef with it.

What do you think, meine Autoren?

The Benefit of Experience

Sometimes, meine Autoren, we publishing folk seem to do perplexing things. We tell you the cover image you love won't sell your book and will need to be changed (everything from the color scheme to the imagery to the very title). We tell you the proposed on-sale date is all wrong and we'll actually need to get the book out the door two months earlier. We tell you you'll need to make author appearances in far-flung locations because those regions are where your book (or books like it) sell(s) best.

As much as it might seem otherwise, we generally don't do these things because we want to make you unhappy or are utterly incompetent at our jobs. The reason we ask for these (often annoying and occasionally apparently pointless) changes is because we have (wait for it!) the benefit of experience. We might not know for certain which covers will look best on the display table or what the absolute perfect on-sale date for your book might be, but we certainly know what probably won't work in terms of everything from overall appearance to release date to promotional placement.

We know what the co-op deadlines and promotions are; we know what season your book will compete best in; we know (historically speaking) what covers have worked and which ones have tanked; we know who your audience is and how to target them; we know how much your book should cost and what format it should be; we're starting to get a pretty good handle on this newfangled "e-book" nonsense (electronic sales chez moi are quite excellent; I'm not sure how publishers elsewhere in the industry are faring). Are we perfect? Absolutely not. But we've done this for awhile now, and we are (again, generally speaking) pretty damn good at it.

So rest assured, mes auteurs, that should you one day know the glory of representation, advances, royalties, and the nightmare joys of shepherding a book through the publication process, there will be plenty of industry professionals available to help you (even if, at times, it doesn't quite feel like help).

A Word to the Wise

Most of the authors with whom I've come into contact are delightful people: courteous, professional, funny, smart. They'll go above and beyond for their book, they'll put in the hours and the effort necessary to make their public appearances and signings enjoyable events, and they'll do it with smiles on their faces even if there isn't exactly a song in their hearts.

Some authors, however, are not so great.

I've known or known of authors who berate their editors, make demands, refuse to be flexible with dates and locations for events and signings, and/or all but directly insult their fans at said events and signings. Not surprisingly, this earns them a reputation in the industry as Not Easy To Work With. This goes without saying, but you do not want to be known as Not Easy To Work With.

I know I'm largely preaching to the choir here, but it bears repeating that writing is work, and work can be stressful. Sometimes your sales aren't as great as you'd like. Sometimes a chain decides to flat-out skip your book. Sometimes you're unhappy about a cover or a blurb falls through or your editor gets laid off and you get a new one who's, let's face it, just not that into you(r novel). These things happen.

Regardless, however, you've got to remain polite and professional. You don't have to be all sunshine and rainbows, but you do need to maintain your cool, follow through on your commitments, and keep the lines of communication between you, your agent, and your editor open.

If you earn yourself a reputation in the industry as Not Easy To Work With, you'll find it difficult to get your agent and editor to do things for you, you may have trouble attracting offers for subsequent books/novels, or you might even get flat-out dumped by your agent or house. (It's unusual, but it has happened.) Even if you don't exactly make your agent or editor's Ten Least Likable list, being known as difficult, needy, antagonistic, or temperamental will not help your writing career and will likely hurt it. While being a nice guy won't directly sell your book, it can't hurt, and often helps.

Sure, J.K. Rowling or James Patterson could be the biggest jerks in the world and it probably wouldn't negatively impact their book sales; people will put up with a lot for money and success. But sadly, mes auteurs, you aren't J.K. Rowling or James Patterson (yet), so remember: it doesn't necessarily pay to be nice, but it doesn't cost anything, either.

Prithee, Inform Me: Your WIP

It recently occurred to me, mes auteurs, that you are amazingly patient people. You work on your novels for months or years, then query agents for months or years, and then wait months after that for a deal with a publishing house, only to wait a year (or more!) for your book to be released to the hungry hungry public. And, of course, you read this blog day in and day out, which means you have a strong stomach (the publishing industry is a scary place) and a high tolerance for cheerful nonsense. So: thanks!

But I digress. Today, bros and she-bros, I invite you to tell me and other loyal readers like yourselves about your current work(s)-in-progress. What genre do you write? How long have you been writing? What's your protagonist (dare I say... brotagonist) like? How far along are you in your manuscript? The questions, like your patience, is endless.

Without any further ado: to the comments!

Okay, So You're In It For The Money

Last week I discovered (via the endlessly witty and delightful Rejectionist) John Scalzi's "utterly useless" (read: super useful) advice on writing professionally.

So, yes: caveats.

It is absolutely possible, as John states, to make money (even a lot of money) writing professionally. Also, note that I have never said you can't make money writing (even though it sort of looks like I did, and I should have been more clear). What I should have said was: you're probably not going to make a lot of money writing fiction.

John makes his money writing a variety of articles on everything from entertainment to personal finance, and building such a repertoire—in addition to the requisite (and now probably figurative) Rolodex of contacts and clients—takes a lot of time and effort. John mentions his starting salary as a journalist was very low, and sadly, things haven't changed much in the business since then.

At one time you could make a lot of money writing for television, and to some extent that's still true, but with the preponderance of unscripted "reality" TV shows out there, it looks like there are far fewer well-paying jobs in Hollywood than there were ten or twenty years ago. You could try screenplays, but it's a tough market made tougher by the recession and California's relentless budget crises.

I think your best bets are article writing (à la John), technical writing (writing manuals and... well, technical things), translation (are you fluent in a foreign language?), or copywriting/copyediting (requires a lot of experience and contacts to get good rates). Fiction, memoir, and poetry command lower rates (in descending order), and most people who stick exclusively to creative writing are lucky to make more than a few thousand dollars a year doing it. Also remember that, as a full-time writer, you are self-employed, meaning you're subject to self-employment tax and will have to pay for your own health insurance, retirement planning, &c.

Questions/praise/vitriol? To the comments!