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In mid-June, literary agent Michael Bourret posted his thoughts about an author’s time pre-publication on the Dystel & Goderich Literary Management blog. You can read the entire article here. In the end, it is the core of Mr. Bourret’s thoughts that strike a chord: if you’re pre-published, you’re a ‘writer’; if you’re published, you’re an ‘author.’ And ‘author’ means a lot more than your books on the shelves—it means responsibilities, paperwork, and pressure.
It means business.
I asked some Backspace authors to reflect on their own experiences: would they have changed anything about their time pre-publication, whether life- or writing-wise; did they have any regrets? The overwhelming—and surprising—response was that, if I were to roughly sum it up, the change between being pre-published and published isn’t necessarily so dramatic. It requires merely the right perspective.
Barb Ferrer, the author of two published YA books and WHEN THE STARS GO BLUE (Thomas Dunne, Nov. 2010), says: “I wish I hadn't let my nerves get the best of me and manifest into terrible audition anxiety so that I could have done more theatre performing/singing. But then, I might not have turned to writing when I did, so I guess it all balances itself out.”
Ms. Ferrer is lucky enough for it to have worked out this way; others might see the trade-off as more life-changing.
A.S. King, author of one YA novel with two more forthcoming, including PLEASE IGNORE VERA DIETZ (Knopf, Oct. 2010). She says that, despite the lack of guarantees that come with publication (i.e., “it doesn't mean you'll sell your next book”), she has no regrets—“I write for the love of writing . . . and publication still means very little to me while I'm doing what I love doing.”
Eileen Kennedy-Moore is a speaker, psychologist and author of THE UNWRITTEN RULES OF FRIENDSHIP: SIMPLE STRATEGIES TO HELP YOUR CHILD MAKE FRIENDS (Little, Brown, 2003), with two other books published and another scheduled for publication. She notes that most authors won’t experience the intense pressure described in Mr. Bourret’s post. For her, the question to be answered is, "Are you relishing the life you have now?" The goal is “trying to live our lives fully, meaningfully, and happily whatever our circumstances.”
These three perspectives mentioned here lie on one end of the spectrum, opposite the kinds of writers Mr. Bourret mentions. The money, the success, and the career motivate too many people.
I’d have to agree with all three authors. As a writer who started out young, I’ve been warned about the perils of publishing ‘too soon,’ and I think the decision to cross the threshold into publication is a decision that requires deeper thought and consideration than many writers give it credit for—a writer should write for the writing, be prepared to shoulder the pressure and the responsibilities (however small), and never lose sight of happiness or the special value of time pre-publication.
***
Weronika Janczuk is a writer of YA, literary, and historical fiction; a freelance editor; an assistant/intern to literary agents; and a student. She spends her pre-publication time with witty books, tea, funky art, ‘80s music, and WHERE THE DOVES FLY, her novel-in-progress. Weronika is a member of Backspace.
So, you want to write a memoir. You want to share your deepest and most intimate thoughts about family, faith, marriage, and child rearing with the rest of the world. You’re not alone. Now more than ever bookstore shelves are filled with memoirs from famous and not so famous people. So what is stopping you from writing your life-story? Here are ten helpful suggestions to help you with your memoir writing.
Read a lot of memoirs. Try these on for starters: Patricia Hampl's The Florists Daughter, Mary Karr Lit's Cherry and The Liar’s Club, Thomas Lynch's Booking Passage, Frank McCourt's Teaching Man, Annie Dillard's An American Childhood, James McBride's The Color of Water, Maya Angelou's I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, and Abigail Thomas' A Three Dog Night.
Many literary magazines and writing journals publish “short memoirs” which are between 2-5K words, what I call “slices of life.” The following publications usually contain memoir writing: Memoir (and), The Writer, Writing Digest, Poets and Writers, and the Paris Review.
Enroll in a memoir-writing course. Ask your local librarian or bookstore manager if they know of local writing centers or groups, they are always eager to help.
Read some “how to” books about memory and memoir writing. Two of my favorite books are Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg and William Zinsler's Writing About Your Life. Check online for other resources.
Start a memoir journal. I am not good at keeping a daily diary, but I do keep a writing journal where I write down thoughts, ideas, or themes that I want to work on at a later date. Begin simply by looking at the “cast of characters” in your life and write down their physical attributes and personality traits, here are a few traits of my own mother: blue flowered housecoat, pink slippers, Jean Nate cologne, Ladies Home Journal, tomato and mayonnaise sandwiches on white bread, polka music, coupons, workaholic, diabetic; I think you get the point! Writing a list of descriptors will then trigger other memories, which then you can jot down.
Browse antique stores and Goodwill Stores. What does antiquing have to do with writing your memoir? A lot actually. A few months ago my wife and I were browsing through a Goodwill and memories were triggered when I saw the metal Star Wars lunchbox that I used in elementary school, the Barry Manilow vinyl LP that mom played on the green record player in our living room, and the brown polyester plaid shirts that I wore in fifth grade. Make sure to write down these memories as soon as you get home.
Look at lots of family pictures and videos. Recently I was looking back at some of my school pictures and I saw faces of friends who I totally forgot about. Looking at pictures is also good for a laugh too!
Listen to music that was popular during your youth. Whenever I find an 80’s radio station tons of memories come flooding back to me. I grew up in the MTV generation so all of those songs are lodged in my brain as videos too: Michael Jackson dancing the Moon Walk, the groups Poison and Motley Crew dressed in leather pants and tight shirts, Madonna wearing her white wedding gown singing “Like a Virgin.”
Talk to friends or close relatives about your family memories. Very often siblings or parents will have different versions of the same event. Talk about what you remember and see what they say.
As you write, don’t worry whether or not your memoir gets published in a magazine or book form. That comes later! The process of writing your memoir is therapeutic. It is good to reflect on your life. Enjoy these memories and savor them. After all, this is your life -- go write it!
Good luck and happy writing!
***** William (Bill) Mills is anordained priest in the Eastern Orthodox Church, author and retreat leader. His new book, A 30 Day Retreat: A Personal Guide to Spiritual Renewal was recently published by Paulist Press in May. For more information about Bill and his writings visit his website and his blog, Walking With God. Bill is available as a retreat leader for various Christian themes and topics. He is also the author of Our Father: A Prayer for Christian Living. Bill's memoir-in-progress is tentatively titled, Losing My Religion.
For years, I wrote and published personal essays, opinion columns and articles.Then, about four years ago, I took a well-respected, pricey, memoir course online.After all, what were those published, personal essays if not memoir snippets?I’d never written anything over three thousand words, but I was ready.Knuckles cracked.Fingers primed. Thinking cap on. My motivation coupled with the hundreds of dollars I paid for the class insured that I’d pound out more than a measly 'three-K' and that I’d come away with a hefty portion of a first draft of a full-length book.
I wrote and I wrote.And at the end of the class I had about one hundred fifty pages of beautiful, first-draft dreck. No surprise, all first drafts are awful.But what did I learn?Two things.I can write more than three thousand words, and there is no way I am ever writing a memoir.
One of my teachers then suggested I try writing fiction.I laughed. I scoffed. I rolled my eyes even though she was in another state. I couldn’t even make up bedtime stories for my kids without plagiarizing PBS animated aardvark plot lines and pilfering big-eyed, fuzzy characters.How was I going to go from writing the truth to writing the imaginary?
And that’s when I learned that writing fiction is writing the truth – it’s the truth within the story I craft, the truth for the characters I create.Everything is real within the fictional boundaries I construct. If it’s not believable – it does not work.
I believedHarry Potter.
I believedTwilight.
I believedThe Murderer’s Daughters and Little Bee, Sense and Sensibility, Rebecca and Jane Eyre.
And a long time ago (sigh) I believed The Boxcar Children and anything Judy Blume put on paper.
If I did not believe what I read, I’d have put the books aside, or more recently I'd have clicked my handy Kindle button and started reading another book.I have.I probably will again.
So what made me believe that I could – as I so eloquently like to put it -- make stuff up?
I intentionally took off one hat and tried on another.
To avoid a case of writer's whiplash, I started slow. I took what I knew and turned it over once. I changed the names in a true story.Do you know how hard that is? To think of someone you know and pick a new name for him or her?So the next step was flip things several times -- to make these familiar people different from their flesh and bone counterpart.Boys became girls (so easy on paper).Good became bad.What ifs and if onlys made their way into the pages.Situations and people became worse, and better.Seasons changed.Motivations shifted.People were added and subtracted faster than on an AP math exam. Actions and reactions were created to accommodate new situations.Remnants remained, for a while.And then I took it all and turned it inside out – and real people were no longer recognizable.They were characters – perhaps with a eyebrow twitch or a smile reminiscent of essay-days, but the storyline had been manufactured within a Dell Inspiron laptop, the characters born of Microsoft Word. And in the end, my fiction was better than the truth I abandoned to the outtakes folder.
Who knew?
Of course, I still write the occasional blog post and essay.
But otherwise?
I just make stuff up.
***
Amy Nathan is the editor of STET! and the monthly Backspace newsletter, as well as organization's social media liaison. She is a published freelance and fictionwriter, editor, mom and lifelong, non-repentant, chocoholic.
Amy is seeking representation for her novel, THE GLASS HOUSE. She believes it will happen.
It’s a brave new world for Hollywood—and a scary one. Films must now compete with big-screen TVs, cable networks, video games, free Internet videos, and a thousand other forms of entertainment that, until recently, didn’t exist.
As a result, it’s now more challenging than ever to craft a screenplay—or screenplay adaptation—that measures up to buyer expectations. With studios less willing to invest in time-consuming revamps of “promising” projects, today’s screen stories must stand out in ways that yesterday’s didn’t have to.
THE BASICS
“There are any number of ways to develop a project, but not all of those are commercial,” says Julie Richardson, who produced Collateral for the big screen and Nice Girls Don’t Get the Corner Office for television.
“Studios don't want something they cannot sell. It's important to understand their mindset because the studios are your market, and you need to know their market.”
Ryan Condal knows about markets; he left an advertising career to pursue screenwriting. He sold his first script in 2008; Galahad (now in development) is a radical retelling of the Arthurian legend. His screen adaptations of the graphic novels Ocean, Hercules: The Thracian Wars, and Queen & Country are also in development.
“The best movies,” he says, “are those with an eternally relatable story at their core. That’s true of genre films as well. The reason Star Wars, Alien, Terminator, Indiana Jones and Jurassic Park resonate for decades is not because of dinosaurs, robots or aliens; it’s because of the way these worlds—and, most importantly, their characters—are realized. There will be plenty of alien, robot, swashbuckler, and dinosaur movies to come. But the reason we remember the ones we do will always remain the same, no matter how much the technology evolves.”
ADAPTATIONS ON THE RISE
Hollywood is currently trending toward screenplays based on other works. “Adaptations are super-hot right now,” says Christopher Lockhart, Story Editor at William Morris Endeavor Entertainment (one of the few Hollywood super-agencies).
“The thirst for original material is not what it was,” adds Ryan. “Probably 99% of the active projects in Hollywood are adaptations of one kind or another. I find them appealing because they often find studio backing, which gives them a better shot at becoming movies.”
John Robert Marlow specializes in adapting books, short stories, and true stories for the big and small screen. John is a published novelist, script consultant, and book editor. His adapted tech thriller screenplay, Nano, recently went into development with director-producer Jan de Bont (Speed, Twister, Minority Report), and his romantic comedy script Dispatch was optioned by producer Julie Richardson (Collateral, Nice Girls Don't Get the Corner Office). John blogs and tweets free advice for authors and screenwriters. For more information go to: makeyourbookamovie.com
How can we creative types resist the lure of the coffee house? The good lighting, free Wi-Fi, endless caffeine--it's a dream. But I'm afraid that our love affair with the coffee shop isn't mutual. How do I know? I've spoken to the baristas in my rotation of writing spots and their reports come down to this:
They think we're rude!
CODE ONE: MAKE A PURCHASE
This rule is the most obvious, but it goes further than some might think. If you've been sitting at a table for a long time (let's say 2.5 hours), then buying one cup of coffee isn't enough. Sure, writing isn't the most lucrative career path, but nobody forced us to plant ourselves in public establishments where they sell food and drinks. Yes, the coffee shop is a public place. But it's a place for customers. If you're looking for a free table, try the library or your kitchen.
CODE TWO: IF YOU'RE HUNGRY, BUY LUNCH
Speaking of the kitchen, kudos to you for sticking to your diet and remembering to bring a mesclun greens salad from home. But as we covered in Code One, it's a no-no to eat it in the coffee house. Don't expect winks of admiration from the staff when you trot out your brown bag lunch. Everyone is trying to make a buck here, and we hope they do. No profit, no coffee shop. And then we're all out of luck. CODE THREE: SHARE THE OUTLET
This rule speaks to the general atmosphere we want in our office--err, favorite coffee shop. If your laptop is fully charged, I suggest picking a table away from an outlet so that another writer can use it. We've all felt that moment of indescribable disappointment when we're ready to work only to find no tables near an outlet, or worse, no tables at all, which takes us to . . .
CODE FOUR: USE THE SMALLEST TABLE
You and your laptop belong at a table for two, especially if you're going to sit all day with four free refills of dark roast munching a protein bar you stashed in your bag.
Of course we can do more to improve our reputation like leave tips and stop glaring at the patrons who--heaven forbid--came to talk. But the rules above are a good start. Let's ensure a continued welcome at the coffee houses. After all, who at home will make us a soy, no-foam, latte with a shot of vanilla before telling us to have a nice day?
Photo courtesy of
***** Nina Badzin is nominated for a Pushcart Prize for her story, Son, recently published in Sleet Magazine. Her fiction has also been published in Literary Mama, Scribblers on the Roof, and Talking Stick. She was honored as a finalist in Glimmer Train Stories and the 2010 summer fiction contest in Vita.mn. Her essays can be found in Scary Mommy, Write it Sideways and are forthcoming inConservative Judaism Magazineand Writer Unboxed.
Nina lives in Minneapolis with her husband, Bryan, and their three children, all six years and younger. After their second child arrived, Bryan encouraged Nina to stop dreaming of writing and actually do it. She hasn’t stopped since.
Follow her on Twitter @NinaBadzin. Nina is a Backspace member.
When it's time to revise your draft, do you start at the beginning of your piece over and over again? Do you spend hours revising paragraphs and then realize your writing time is gone? Do you read what you've written, and with a general idea that it doesn't "read well", start shuffling sentences, words, ideas and story flow?
That would be me.
Here are a few ideas that have helped give direction to my revisions after the first draft is totally finished.
From Donald Maass' book, The Fire in Fiction, Chapter Three, Scenes that Can't be Cut:
First, determine if the scene has a point. In other words, make sure it's not a candidate for cutting entirely. Once you know the point of the scene, then Maass suggests that the task of the author is to draw the purpose out. He cautions writers that changing the words on the page won't help. If a scene is not working, it may be because the scene needs to be "re-seen". (I'm so witty, oh so witty.) Maass states: "Scene revision is, to me, less a matter of expression and more a way of seeing."
Once you've determined the scene needs to be in the story, Maass suggests to begin by asking: What change is taking place and when exactly in the scene does the change occur? Ask yourself how the point-of-view character is changed. Maass says what we should be looking for here are the turning points.
When the turning points have been identified, the scene suddenly becomes easier to see. I read Maass' suggestion and tried it in my own stumbling work-in-progress: he was right. It was like adjusting the focusing wheel on a pair of binoculars to finally bring the image to clarity. From then on, Maass states, "Everything else on the page either contributes to, or leads readers away from, those changes." All of your wonderful writing, your descriptions, characterization, transitions and choice of diction are either expendable--or tools that help "enact the scene's main purpose."
Building a writer's reference library is always a great idea, in my opinion. I have over a hundred books on writing craft; this is one of my favorites.
***
Rebbie Macintyre was born in America's heartland and now lives in Florida. She graduated from the University of Missouri and earned her master's degree at the University of South Florida. Her life experiences have provided the fodder for a number of her stories. She's been a teacher, counselor, salesperson, violinist, swimming coach, SCUBA diver and sludge truck operator. She enjoys hiking, biking, a glass of wine and mountain sunsets. She is a member of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime. Her first novel, Cast the First Stone, was released in March, 2009. Her second book, A Corner of Universe, was released in February, 2010. Rebbie is a Backspace member.
This morning, during my daily constitutional through my QueryTracker stats, I clicked on my favorite Quick Filter -- Outstanding Subs. I scrolled through the dates and indeed, there are a few agents who've had my partial manuscript or my full since January. You know -- the beginning of winter? (In the interim there have been requests and rejections, but I consider these few, the steadfast hold-outs) I'll admit that there are one or two who have kindly replied to my follow-ups. They are busy and backlogged but betrothed to the idea of one day reading my pages. Okie doke. But there are a few who have never replied - - and I don't deluge agents with emails. I wait three to four months before following up on a partial or a full.
I assume these agents are not interested in reading my material or in responding. But then I read a post on Janet Reid's blog about not assuming that no answer means no. Sometimes things fall through the cyber-cracks and yes, agents are as busy as they say.
And I've heard those stories before. So what's an aspiring author to do?
Move forward.
While those agents have had my manuscripts, others have read and rejected, as well as read and asked for changes. I've spoken to some and corresponded with others. I don't want to discount the agents who languish in my online filters, but I also wonder if it came down-to-it -- would I want to work with someone who doesn't respond to a polite follow-up on requested material?
But like the old Tootsie Pop commercials, the world will never know. Nor will I.
Literary agent, Kristin Nelson, has her own ideas about a no answer, and she was kind enough to allow us to share it with you on STET!
When I was in New York, I did spend some time talking to a variety of writers at BEA and at the Backspace Conference.
One writer asked me if silence on a full request meant a NO.
Not knowing the agent or agency, I didn’t really have an answer to that but I might be able to shed a tiny bit of insight on to the question.
I would not consider silence a NO response, but I also wouldn’t wait around for this agent or agency to get back to you. Get those queries out there. Get more sample pages in agents’ hands. Don’t pin your hopes on this tiny glimmer of interest.
Because some agents are like a few editors that I know and avoid, they won’t start reading until they get a heads up that there is other interest. I know, it’s awful to say but often times the truth.
At my agency, I really do try and stick by the maxim we highlight on our website that says we will respond to full manuscripts within 2 months. The key word there is “try.” I can count numerous times where I’ve been woefully behind and the fulls we requested were the last thing on my to do list. I hate that; it happens.
Now we never ask for an exclusive so it doesn’t really matter if I’m late to the read or if I don’t get a chance to read at all because the writer has been offered representation by an agent who read in a more timely fashion. It’s simply too bad for me.
If I were that writer though, I’d still continue my inquiry as to the status of my submission—politely, professionally, but persistently (as in maybe once every 3 weeks). Because you are owed a response. I’m not saying that you’ll get one but you really are owed one.
Alot of waiting advice revolves around staying busy or starting a new project. What if you can't or don't want to? What if the impatience soaks you, puddles at you feet and just keep you damp and drippy, sitting in front of the TV with a box of Junior Mints? (who, me?)
Literary agent Rachelle Gardner hit on this topic on her blog in September 2009, and was kind enough to allow us to share it again with you on STET!
A couple weeks ago I was having dinner with a group of novelists (who also happened to be my clients). We were talking about the terrible waiting that's always involved in publishing. At every step of the journey, whether you're agented or not, published or not, there seems to be a huge need for patience. The waiting sometimes gets unbearable.
We bemoaned the difficulty of developing patience. Is it even possible, or just wishful thinking?
Then my sweet friend Christy Truitt spoke up. "I don't think I'm getting any more patient. But I'm learning to tolerate my impatience better.”
Wow! What a cool insight, and a terrific goal: To be able to exist in a state of impatience, and be okay with it.
To be waiting, and longing, and frustrated that it's taking so long (whatever it is) and still be okay, still have a measure of peace.
To me, that seems like a more realistic goal for writers, and possibly a healthier one. After all, we don't want to completely lose the impatience, because it's part of what drives us. It creates a tension inside us, and as we strive to calm the tension, we're working towards our goals. You could even say that the impatience keeps the fire lit beneath us.
What would it mean for you, to stop trying to be more patient, and instead tolerate your impatience better?
Taking it one step further, how can you use your impatience and actually benefit from it?
Check out the Waiting Diaries, Part I and Part II for more ideas on what to do when you're waiting!
The Waiting Diaries is a week-long STET! series on the perils and possibilities involved with waiting for representation and publication. Click here for The Waiting Diaries, Part I and be sure to read through this post for input from literary agent, Jessica Faust.
When writers query, we know that in many cases, no answer means no thank you.I think writers are the only people who often welcome rejection – and certainly the only ones who put the words “lovely” and “rejection” in the same sentence, and mean it (sometimes).But is silence always an answer when it comes to queries, partials and fulls?
Author Jon Clinch says “When you don’t hear, you’ve heard.”
In many instances, I agree, especially when it comes to query letters, but writer Kristen Callihan has a different experience to share. “I once had an agent contact me after nine months and say, ‘so sorry, your query was lost in the shuffle. If you're still interested, would you please send us the full?’ I already had an agent by that point, so no. But it was nice to know.” Writer Barbra Annino waited eight months. "The point is, it does happen," she says.
Author Jael McHenry concurs. “With many, many years of waiting experience, here's my big takeaway: silence has no inherent meaning. If you send a full MS to an agent upon request, and you wait a month or two or however long to hear back from her, it doesn't mean anything in particular. It doesn't mean she doesn't like you, or the manuscript. It doesn't mean she doesn't really want to take on new writers. It doesn't mean she wouldn't be a good agent for you. It doesn't mean she's a horrible person with no regard for a writer's time. It doesn't mean there's no market for debut novels and publishing is dead and you're just banging your head against a brick wall anyway. There's no way to know what it means in each particular case unless the agent tells you herself."
Below is literary agent Jessica’s Faust’s post, How Long Is Too Long to Wait from October, 2009, reprinted with Jessica’s permission.
Take in as many waiting stories as you can (the purpose of The Waiting Diaries!) and realize that while there are trends – there’s always a special circumstance -- and that special circumstance could be you!
If I’ve learned anything from writing this blog it’s what an anxiety-inducing process getting published is, and while the unpublished think it gets easier once you have an agent, I think I’ll have to disagree. It seems to me that having an agent, but still seeking publication and, heck, even having a publishing contract can still be equally anxiety-producing.
An agented author recently got in touch to ask how long is too long to wait for minor revisions and does silence from an agent mean the agent has lost interest.
Sadly there’s absolutely no way to answer this question without holding a couples counseling session with the author and agent. How long is too long? Is it a proposal or a full manuscript? What is your definition of minor revisions? How many rounds of revisions have you already been through with the agent? What else does the agent have on her plate during that time and has the agent given you a due date? Without knowing at least some of that information I probably can’t answer your question as clearly and concisely as I should. That being said, let me give you some guidelines so you have a time frame in which you should feel comfortable checking in.
I think that if you have only a proposal you should hear within four weeks. I know that seems long, but I’m giving all agents the benefit here. One week is too short. If I don’t have advance notice that your material is coming I can’t promise a one-week turnaround because I might already have two proposals scheduled for revisions that week. Two weeks seems very reasonable to me, except that it could take me a week to even get to the proposal and another full week to get my feedback together (sometimes I will have to read the material a couple of times and frequently I have to sit on it and think about it). Three weeks probably makes the most sense, so four weeks gives everyone a safety net. If you haven’t heard within four weeks, definitely check in.
What about a full manuscript? Well, the same timeline holds true in terms of how long it might take an agent to actually get to the book, the difference is that it’s 400 pages versus 50. It takes a lot longer to read and put together notes on, and if any parts need to be reread, it’s going to take even longer. I still think however that it’s reasonable to check in after four weeks. That seems plenty long to me and at least by that point you should be able to get a time from your agent for when she will get back to you.
Minor revisions means the work you’re doing should be minor. It means that presumably you won’t be recreating characters or deleting entire plot points. It does not mean the work the agent is doing is any less than if you were getting major revisions. In fact, in my experience minor revisions often mean more work for the agent. While major revisions are often a short letter telling you to go back to the drawing board, a minor revision letter can go through the manuscript point by point and often end up being 15 to 20 pages in length.
As for whether an agent has lost interest. There’s absolutely no way to know unless I’m in that relationship, but waiting for revisions doesn’t necessarily mean a loss of interest, just not enough time.
My very best advice is get to work on your next book. Lose yourself in another project so those weeks fly by as quickly for you as they always do for the agent.
The Waiting Diaries is a week-long STET! series on the perils and possibilities involved with waiting for representation and publication. Authors, both published and aspiring, along with literary agents, will chime in. Check back daily. THE WAITING DIARIES, PART I
Jessica Keener, author and editor, nailed it. “Waiting sucks.”
I think most writers would agree.Waiting, although inherently passive, is exhausting.It wreaks havoc with our psyches. We spend months, years or decades writing, editing and polishing. We craft query letters, have them ripped to shreds – I mean, constructively critiqued – by our writing community of choice (I choose Backspace, don’t you?).We research agents, make manual and cyber lists (I recommend QueryTracker) maybe even color-code spreadsheets, print them out and tape them to the wall (not that I would ever do anything like that).
And while there is definite triumph involved in each new step – finishing a first draft to choosing those top ten agents to getting requests to signing and then parlaying the waiting into waiting to submit and waiting for editors – the same double entendre advice applies.
Get busy.
Clichés are frowned upon in writing, but it’s this cliché advice that transforms the mental waiting room into a place of action.
“Find another project to pour your passion into, get creative by painting walls, sewing quilts, writing something else--don't just sit and refresh your email in-box or browser,” says writer, Trish Lawrence.
Author Jael McHenry takes it a step further for writers whose manuscripts are in the hands and in-boxes of agents.“[Don't] wait in silence forever, not at all. Please don't. After the initial period passes (maybe the agent said "I hope to get to it in the next six weeks"), send a politely worded e-mail asking for status. Continue to follow up in the same way. Plan your communications, track everything, and start work on something else. Wait actively.”
A good reminder from author Katie Alender is "from the other side of the coin." Waiting doesn't end. (I find that somehow reassuring, it's a writerly bond, I guess.) "Even when you have an agent and/or an editor, you can still find yourself waiting in the multiple month range for feedback on a draft!"
Take what you get.
Writer Karen Donley-Hayessays, "I got feedback from [an agent and] other readers, made some significant changes (which took a few months), and now I'm navigating some kind of squirrely space-time continuum while my story ferments... er, cures... before I give it a final read-through and send it in for the final yay or ix-nay."
Author Susan Schoenberger admits, “I hated waiting, every soul-crushing minute of it, and the only thing that kept me going were the comments that said things like "close," or "loved the writing."
I keep a separate, easily accessible, email folder for rejections that come with feedback or compliments. I reread them regularly as a calorie-free pick-me-up.
Keep going.
Waiting is never fun unless you're waiting to get on a roller-coaster (if you like that kind of thing) or if you're waiting to collect your check from your winning lottery ticket. The thing to remember is, if this is what you want, the wait will be worth it in one way or another. Either you'll get that agent or editor...or...you'll be spurred to write something new or even discover a hobby or meet a new friend (Backspace being a great place for that).
So, when you're weary from all the waiting, remember why you're on this journey. Author Bill Watson sums it up perfectly.
In his workshop at the Backspace Conference in New York in May, Donald Maass spoke about developing three types of protagonists: the ordinary person who finds himself/herself embroiled in what will be your mind-bending plot, the true hero or heroine with heroic qualities, and the dark protagonist.
We've all been each of the three types of characters in our own life stories, at one time or another. And the dark protagonist, that character who has a stained past, who is pursued by unnamed internal demons, the character who is on the run from an evil pursuer, makes for a fascinating character--and, from the writer's perspective, a character fun to create!
In the thousands of manuscripts he reads, dark protagonists are plentiful, says Maass. And they can work well for a story, but he cautions against turning the reader off within the opening paragraphs. Maass says that many times the flaws of this type of protagonist are fatal, and readers will find little appeal in investing hours of their time in following a character writhing in suffering and pain throughout a story.
So if your protagonist is a dark character, what can you as the writer do to make that character appealing to a reader without losing that magnetic draw?
The trick, says Maass, is to somehow make that character highly likable, or at least admirable.
In Fire in Fiction, Maass talks about how Joseph Finder, in his business thriller Company Man,gives his flawed protagonist Nick Conover the redeeming characteristic of a man trying to keep his kids happy after the death of their mother a year earlier--and he establishes this very quickly in the story. (Read this great interview with Finder by fellow Backspace member and author, Lauren Baratz-Logsted.)
What else can humanize a dark character to a reader? Maass gave several suggestions, and many more in Fire in Fiction. A character can be deeply flawed--but self-deprecating at the same time. Maass asks: "Who hasn't kicked themselves?" And a flawed character who has the self awareness to judge himself harshly can earn a reader's respect.
A flawed character--a loser, a hopeless down-and-out wanderer--can still love. And if that love is demonstrated quickly in the story, the reader will identify with the character.
Maass asked those of us in the workshop who were writing about a dark protagonist to sit quietly for a moment and think about our character. He then asked us: What is the one thing the character would wish to change about themselves, if they had the power to do so?
And the hard part: now think of a way to demonstrate that desire, that wish for change, within the first five pages of the manuscript.
And remember, Maass reminded us, every scene in your story must impact and/or transform that character.
*****
Rebbie Macintyre was born in America's heartland and now lives in Florida. She graduated from the University of Missouri and earned her master's degree at the University of South Florida. Her life experiences have provided the fodder for a number of her stories. She's been a teacher, counselor, salesperson, violinist, swimming coach, SCUBA diver and sludge truck operator. She enjoys hiking, biking, a glass of wine and mountain sunsets. She is a member of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime. Her first novel, Cast the First Stone, was released in March, 2009. Her second book, A Corner of Universe, was released in February, 2010. Rebbie is a Backspace member.
Earlier this year, it occurred to me that my past life as a rare poultry breeder helps me through the business of writing and publishing. I said as much on Twitter, and people demanded a blog, so here we are. Now, I'm a little strange compared to a lot of people. I was self-sufficient once, so I'm frugal and careful. I don't take loans from banks or buy stuff I don't need. I don't make a lot of friends or go out that often. I like to keep my life simple, like The Waltons or Little House on the Prairie. In a way, this is how a chicken breeder thinks. Or, at least, this chicken breeder. It's how I think as a writer, too. Simple. To start, I don't count my chickens before they hatch.
There are a lot of ways to lose unhatched chicks. If you're incubating artificially, it's as easy as losing electricity or forgetting to add water for the proper moisture content. And that's leaving out the possibility that you candled the eggs incorrectly, and you're trying to hatch unfertilized eggs. (Always a bummer.) If you're using a broody hen to hatch your eggs, she can decide halfway through to stop sitting. She can peck the crap out of them one night in a fit of bored insanity.
In publishing, imprints shut down, options get rejected, books get dropped, tours get canceled and contracts fall through. In writing, ideas fail, deadlines loom, and some days it's just impossible to write or write well. So, the idea selling a book that hasn’t hatched yet seems like a crazy risk to someone like me. And I was never the type to daydream about movie options and red carpets either. I do the work that's on my desk and hope to sell it. It's very simple. And I'm always about to write the next book, so if those eggs don't hatch, there are others incubating. This isn't to say I'm not optimistic. I'm one of the more optimistic people I know. But I've been around long enough to know that shit happens.
Fact: Chickens poop.
Yes, chickens poop. And they can't work a shovel or a wheelbarrow, so you have to clean it up. Sure, once those chicks hatch and dry off a bit, they are cute as all get out. But they start pooping from day one. The first weeks hold risks. You have to keep them out of anything with corners or else they'll be squished to death by their siblings. You have to make sure no predators can attack and you need to put the brooding light nice and low to keep them warm enough. And of course, the basics--food and water and cleaning up the poop.
I doubt I need to point out the obvious parallels here. If you're reading this, I'm guessing you already know that sometimes, there is poop in writing and publishing. I'm not complaining. I love my job. Revision and mucking out the chickens are two of my favorite things to do. Yes, we already knew I was weird. But here's a totally awesome thing.
Chicken poop makes great fertilizer.
I used to make poop tea. Ew! Not to drink! To water my crops with, of course. And those crops fed me. See? Good things can come from poop. In fact, as fertilizer goes, you can't do much better than chicken poop. It's so hardcore you have to dilute it.
When I'm writing a book, the poop also comes from day one. Characters go flat. Premise might go off track. Plot can go in the wrong direction. Best to look at these things as learning experiences. Make some book-poop tea. Turn the flattest character ever into someone readers will never forget. Make a bore into an adventure. Same goes with publishing-world poop. When a door closes, a window opens, even if you can't see it yet. Keep writing, keep working, keep improving. Whatever you do, do not leave the poop in the coop. Ignoring poop never leads anywhere good.
Surely some of you are totally grossed out by this whole thing already. Ew. Poop? Poop tea? I'm aware this isn't a common way of thinking. I'm aware that poop tea is weird. I'm aware that I am weird and I am okay with that.
In birds and books, sometimes weird is good.
After a few years of breeding standard laying hens, I became a rare chicken breeder. For the most part, I bred birds called Blue Orpingtons. The thing about Blue Orpingtons that made them so darn rare was the genetics. Ready for this? If you want white Orpingtons, you breed two white Orpington birds. If you want black Orpingtons, you breed two black Orpington birds. But if you want Blue Orpingtons, you can't just breed two Blue Orpington birds.
Breeding two Blue Orpingtons will yield some black, some white, some black with white speckles mottled, and some white with black mottled. To get an ALL BLUE brood, you have to take a white with black mottled hen and breed her with a blue rooster. That's why they're called rare. And the most money I'd ever get is for the white with black mottled hen. They don't look like they'd be the most valuable. (Actually, they look kinda scruffy.) But they are.
People will drive a long way for rare birds.
People will drive an hour or two for common birds. They'll drive up to four hours for rare blue birds. But for a white with black mottled Orpington hen? Uh, chicken people will do crazy things for one of these. It means they can skip that extra step. They are guaranteed fluffy blue treasure.
In publishing, I don't think there are any shortcuts to fluffy blue treasure, even though every writing magazine seems to advertise a hundred of them on every other page. I do think people will go a long way to buy rare birds, though--the birds that broke away from the flock somehow. In writing, no matter what genre, this is what you want to do.
In chickens, most buyers want $5-a-head laying pullets. They really aren't concerned with breed, usually. They just want fresh free-range eggs to eat. But there is a particular type of person who will buy rare birds. I call them crazy chicken people. I was one, so I mean no offense. Crazy chicken people are all about rare or weird birds. They probably have a peacock perched on their fence who spits at you when you walk by. Their back yards have usually been transformed into what looks like a mini-zoo of coops and runs. They take their job very seriously. And their boots always have chicken poop on them.
Publishers need laying pullets and broiler cockerels, and a good, hearty rooster that will do its job. They need the brand names you know, that you see in the refrigerated section of most supermarkets and have poppers in them to tell you when they're ready. If you are a writer, you want to be this for your publishing house. You want to be John Grisham, Nora Roberts or Judy Blume. However, not all writers will end up the popular Perdue roaster with a popper, and that's okay too. Usually, becoming an overnight success takes a few decades of hard, focused work. Finding the voice that makes you a rare blue Orpington will probably take a few tries.
I think most fiction editors compare to crazy chicken people. They are always on the lookout for a rare bird that broke away from the flock. They will certainly spot a scruffy-seeming white with black mottled hen and know well what they've found. They know that there is more than one type of chicken out there, their boots are very messy, and they know what to do with a shovel. While I'm on the subject.
I should mention there tons of different types of rare birds. Some are hearty, some aren't. Some are huge, some are tiny. Some breed easily and lay a lot of eggs. Some lay few eggs that are harder to hatch. I bred Modern Game Bantams for a while. They were the coolest birds ever. But they were so hard to hatch. Really hard. So, for me, they were even rarer than my other rare stock, because I'd be lucky to get five fertilized eggs from them before I'd hatch. And then only three would hatch right. And then, maybe only two would survive.
Sometimes, that's what happens to my books, too.
In relation to books and chickens, here are some interesting random thoughts:
Different chickens need different types of houses. All chickens roost. But some chickens roost higher than others. Some chickens can fly high enough to escape the coop. Some chickens grow up to be slow chickens who peck at themselves. Some chickens have chronic health problems. Some chickens get eaten by foxes. Some chickens just die without any warning.
This brings me back to the first point about counting chickens before they hatch. Because any of these things can happen before the bird is 21 weeks old and ready to sell. Anything can happen to your book, too. But at least with breeding poultry, it happens within a reasonable time frame.
Chicken breeding, like publishing, requires patience. (Only chicken breeding goes so much faster.)
So so so so so so so much faster. If you lose patience, you are prone to desperation.
In desperation, really sick chickens can seem healthy. I know this because before I knew better, I drove three hours to buy a breeding pair of Sussex chickens. I bought them, brought them home, and within days, realized just how sick they were. I had to quarantine them far away from my other birds. By the second week, the hen became eggbound. You do not want to know what has to be done with an eggbound bird. I will only tell you that it involves Vaseline.
Desperation causes human beings to lose all sense. (It leads to Vaseline, people.)
In publishing, desperation is something you want to avoid. Yes, I know you've written two/four/seven/fifteen books and have been collecting rejection letters for years. I know your family members are starting to avoid eye contact. I know this frustration very very well. But look around. Do you think those magazines would be full of all those shortcut advertisements if they didn't know that we're desperate? If they didn't know we are weak? Oh they know. They know the same as the weird lady who sold me those sick birds knew that I had driven three hours, and there was no freaking way I was going to drive back home with no birds.
But now, after the Vaseline, and knowing the events that unfolded over the next two weeks which were disappointing, hard to watch, and ended in burying $70 worth of birds, I can see very clearly that a three hour drive home with no birds would have been far better. I'd gone temporarily crazy and turned into a collector who just wanted more. I'd become greedy and entitled and forgot that chickens were supposed to be fun.
And that's the trick--to keep it fun.
Sure, in the end, books are products to publishers just like chickens are products to chicken breeders. But to writers, books are more than just something someone will buy. And to me, chickens were more than just birds I would eventually sell or eat. Hatching chicks was great fun. Some birds became more like pets than eventual dinners. Edna, one of my first laying hens, loved to visit us in the house and perch on the half door to sunbathe. Virgil, the duck with the gammy foot, was like a son to us during his short time on Earth.
And of course, books are more than things we buy. They're part of our lives and our deeper experiences. Writing books, for most writers I know, is an exciting experience akin to sailing around the world. Yes, there is all that work involved, and cabin fever, scurvy, bad storms and rocky seas, but there is amazement and enlightenment around every bend, and when the story of the journey is told years later, it sounds like fun. I'm always surprised when my tales of self-sufficient living and breeding chickens make people say WOW! But looking back, while it was a lot of work, mostly, it was fun.
One last lame cliche. I don't put all my eggs in one basket.
I guess for me, the trick to keeping it fun--both writing and breeding chickens--was to make sure neither thing was the key to feeding my family. Back then, I was lucky to get paid for teaching literacy, the same as I'm lucky now to get paid for running a business. So, really, unless you're Frank Purdue or JK Rowling, a plan B is always a good idea. I think that's probably true in any business that involves as much risk as ours does. Plus, if we concentrate too much on the money--the publishing, the supermarket, the royalty statement-- we can apply too much pressure and lose sight of why we do this, and all the great things we're learning by doing it, and our work is poorer for it.
In the end, there are as many types of books as there are birds, and a lot of fun to be had with both. I think the most important thing to remember is--if you want to make money off of either, you have to keep producing.
Be reasonable. Be careful. Avoid anything that leads to Vaseline.
Bok Bok. Get typing.
*****
A.S. King’s short fiction has appeared in a lot of great journals and has been nominated for Best New American Voices. Her first young adult novel, The Dust of 100 Dogs, was published in February 2009 and was an ALA Best Books for Young Adults pick, a Cybils Award finalist and an Indie Next List pick for teens. Her next novel, Please Ignore Vera Dietz, is due in October 2010 from Knopf, and her third, Everybody Sees the Ants, will come a year after from Little, Brown.
Etymology: Latin, let it stand, from stare to stand
Pronunciation: \ˈstet\
: to direct retention of (a word or passage previously ordered to be deleted or omitted from a manuscript or printer's proof) by annotating usually with the word stet
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A.S. King’s short fiction has appeared in a lot of great journals and has been nominated for Best New American Voices. Her first young adult novel, 
