Back to the Drawing Board...Maybe

As you know, Dear Blog Readers, I am an optimist by nature and tend to use this platform as a place of encouragement and support. While my view of the publishing industry may seem overly sunny at times, it's because my six years of working in NYC exposed me to many of the smart, well-intentioned, passionate people who work in the industry. Everyone I've ever met who works in publishing is crazy about books and getting good manuscripts into the hands of readers. I like to mention this as often as I can because it pains me to hear these people being repeatedly maligned by those who have little understanding of what really goes on in Big Publishing.

That being said, things can and do go wrong--and I would be remiss to gloss over the bad times. If I'm here to share my experience of the writing life, then I have to be honest when things get tough. Since we writers can be competitive and a little bit protective of our reputations, I think there's a tendency for us to avoid talking about failure. Maybe we don't want to appear vulnerable. Still, we do each other a disservice when pretend we everything is rosy all the time.

As I wrote in a previous post ("The Summer of Crazy"), last May I turned in my first draft of a novel I've been working on in fits and starts since my twins were born ten years ago. At the time, it felt terrific to finally complete something after being out of the publishing world for so long. I was sure it was my strongest work to date and was thrilled to finally show it to my agent. Unfortunately, my agent didn't share my enthusiasm. I cried for two days.

When we discussed the story at length, he raved about the writing but thought the plot needed some work. His comments were insightful and on the money. I felt better--energized and ready to get back to work. I did a round of revisions, pretty sure that I fixed all his points of concern.

I was wrong.

We had another discussion and this time I felt a little fuzzier about what I was supposed to aim for. I did a second round of revisions. I took an ax to the manuscript. It still fell short.

Third round of revisions. This time I felt like I was completely in the dark. I was losing confidence and interest. I was beginning to go against my own instincts. We both knew this was bad news. In the end, my agent's verdict was the same: it wasn't coming together the way he would like. Time to put it aside. Did I have any other stories to develop?

This was really tough news to hear. How could I possibly toss away something I've spent so much time and effort on, especially when I felt this was my best work and that maybe, just maybe he was wrong? I cried--though much less than the first time around--thinking about all the time I'd lost and how the manuscript wasn't any closer to publication. I went to war with myself, considering my options:

Should I....

1) Throw in the towel? Every author has a book or two in their closet that had to be scrapped. This will be mine.

But I can't imagine giving up on this story. This is some of the best stuff I've ever written. My gut tells me that one way or another, something from this manuscript will be published.



2) Cannibalize the story? I could chop the novel up into separate short stories or use a character for something new so it wouldn't feel like a complete waste of time.

This is a realistic solution, but something I'd like to avoid having to do. 



3) Step away from it for a while? Maybe if I put it aside for at least six months I could gain a little clarity and figure out on my own what needed to be fixed.

Aside from losing more time, this is a good plan. 



4) Get a second opinion? Share it with a few trusted readers to get their take on it. If they feel the same way my agent does, then I'll have to really do some soul-searching.

Yes! Other opinions are exactly what I need right now. It can help me make an informed decision about what to do next.



5) Get a new agent? Maybe it's time to find someone else who can better articulate what the story needs or whose vision is closer to mine.

Something to consider, but not something I'm inclined to do. Aside from this hiccup, we have a good relationship and I trust him. Plus, he's a top agent. Trying to find another agent is a big risk on many levels. 


So, after thinking it over a bit, my plan was to set it aside for a while and come back to it in six months with fresh eyes. 

Then, an interesting thing happened: I met with my writing group. I had been giving them a few scenes at a time to get their opinions and the response was overwhelmingly positive. They seemed to love the characters and were very invested in the story. They couldn't wait to read the rest and wanted me to send all of it at once instead of in dribs and drabs. I couldn't believe it....and I was more confused than ever.

Suddenly, I found myself unable to put the story aside. I contacted a friend of mine who is a novelist and he offered to take a look. I'll be interested in hearing his point of view. I have a feeling he'll be a 'tiebreaker' of sorts and his feedback will give me a better sense of how to proceed.

In the meantime, I'm polishing an old short story I've been wanting to finish and hope to send it around in a few weeks. It will be nice to have something else to think about for a while.

Have you encountered a big setback in your writing career? How did you move forward?

Professionalism (or, Don't Shoot Yourself in the Foot)

For those of you who don't know, I used to work in the accounting department of a literary agency. My job was to process royalty statements, but I'd often make the rounds to chat with agents and assistants. The mountains of unsolicited manuscripts the agents had to read was staggering. Stacks and stacks of paper would cover every available surface, bookshelves, and occasionally the floor (this, clearly, was before the age of electronic submissions). And every day the mail carrier would bring more. The assistants' jobs were to separate the wheat from the chaff. If the assistant liked a particular manuscript they'd write up a report about it and then pass it on to the agent. It's a wonder they ever had time to do anything else.

One time I remember chatting with an agent who was bemoaning the fact that she was interested in a particular manuscript, but found the writer to be difficult to deal with on a personal level. "He calls every a day to see if I've finished reading it and then I can't get off the phone with him," she said. "I can tell he would be a difficult client." After a lot of careful thought--and one too many calls from the author--she decided to pass.

It was so unfortunate that this talented author shot himself in the foot. I wish I could say this was an isolated incident, but I've seen it happen time and time again. While good manners won't make up for a manuscript that's lacking, bad manners can definitely tip the scales against you. There are simply too many talented writers out there and too many choices for agents. They have the luxury of being extremely selective.

I'll admit that the submission process seems a little backwards. You are submitting your work to gain the approval of someone who is ultimately going to work for you. It's like going to an audition before hiring an attorney. Since agents work on your behalf, some authors feel they have the right to be aggressive or intrusive during the submission process. Also, publishing is a competitive field and our culture rewards ambition. But really, the author-agent relationship is more of a collaboration and the submission process ought to be looked upon like a job interview. You apply for a job at a company that interests you and the employer decides if you're the right fit for the company. Likewise, you have chosen to submit your manuscript to a particular agent because you like their reputation and area of expertise, and now it's agent's turn to decide if they want to be in a partnership with you. If ever there was a time to be on your best behavior, this is it.

During the course of their careers, writers develop reputations based not only on their writing ability but also on their level of professionalism. We've all heard stories of famous writers who act like divas and I can't help but think that their lack of manners close doors on occasion. Likewise, those authors who are a joy to work with are revered within the industry. Agents and editors move around a lot in publishing. Whether you choose to build bridges or burn them, your past actions will likely affect you at some point in the future.

So what does it mean to act like a professional? Much of this is obvious and falls under basic manners.

Respect Other People's Time. Be on time for meetings, functions, appearances, scheduled phone calls. Honor deadlines. If you think you can't make a deadline, contact the person as soon as possible so they can plan around it. During phone calls a little small talk is appropriate, but keep in mind that the person you're speaking with has a lot of work and other authors to attend to. Read social cues. Keep it short and to the point.

Be Kind to Assistants. Sure, assistants are usually fresh out of college, but they are also the ones who picked your manuscript out of the slush pile. Most are sharp, friendly, and eager to please. They are also the ones who get things done. Treat them like the ally that they are.

Show Your Appreciation. Hand-written thank-you notes are rare and classy. So are gift baskets. When someone goes above and beyond for you, let them know how much you appreciate them. Kind words are free and always welcome.

Don't Talk Trash About Others. Not just editors and agents, but other authors as well. The publishing world is small and fluid. Snarky comments will come back to haunt you, guaranteed.

Be Humble. There are thousands of talented writers in this world-- remember that you are one of many. Nothing will alienate your colleagues faster than thinking you're God's gift to the literary world.

Respectfully Disagree. When the inevitable dispute arises, state your case calmly, clearly, and respectfully. As in any business partnership, being honest while carefully choosing your words to express yourself will get you much closer to your goal than failing to keep your anger in check.

Three Looks at the Publishing Business

A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of speaking at Bowdoin College to a group of teenagers who are participating in the Upward Bound program this summer. I have to say I these young people really impressed me—they were so much more savvy than I ever was at their age. Most seemed interested in the writing aspect of the publishing business, but I gave them a very quick overview of different career options within the industry. And then I thought, “Gee this might make a good post.” So if you know you’d like to be involved in publishing but you don’t know exactly what you’d like to do, this post is for you.

Even if you do know what you want to do, read it anway. Nothing wrong with a little refresher.

This is a very simplistic breakdown of the three major career options available to you in book publishing. It by no means encompasses all the options, but it gives you a good breakdown of the general categories and what they entail.

Writer/Author

Pros: You are the reason this industry exists. As a writer, you have the freedom to create a story or a work of nonfiction on any topic you choose, in any style you choose. The work is deeply satisfying and can give you the freedom to live the kind of lifestyle you want. You are self-employed and can live anywhere. There are no start-up costs for your business, only a pen and paper. There is no limit to the amount of money you can make. You can be famous, yet move about with anonymity. A good portion of your job involves travel and meeting interesting people. You get to experience the great thrill of seeing your words in print or your story come alive on the big screen.

Cons: Your success is not solely dependent on how hard you work—a lot of it has to do with luck and timing. Writing is hard, lonely work without any guarantees. Publishing is a slow business and it can take a long time to be paid and to see your book in print. While some writers make enough to sustain themselves, most do not make enough to live solely on their writing income, which makes another job necessary. Those who do support themselves have to grapple with the high cost of health insurance. Most writers do not become famous or receive much recognition. A good portion of your job involves travel, but usually not to glamorous destinations.

Agent

Pros: If you want to get rich, an agent is what you want to be. You have the satisfaction of discovering new talent and managing your clients throughout their careers. You work with authors and editors. Socializing is a big part of your job—you’re on the phone most of the day and have lots of lunch meetings. Invitations to all kinds of parties and events allow you to rub elbows with famous people. You will most likely have to travel a few times a year to the big book fairs, like Frankfurt, and to some writers’ conferences, like Maui, if you so choose.

Cons: Odds are, if you really want to be successful, you’ll have to live in New York (or at least live within commutable distance in Connecticut or New Jersey). Agents work long hours and have a never-ending flood of manuscripts to look at. Their clients can be eccentric and demanding, and often require a lot of hand-holding and ego-stroking. You have to have a fair grasp of legal matters and accounting, and should a disagreement happen between the author and the editor, you will have to play mediator. It can take a long time to build the necessary contacts and client list needed to be a successful agent. If you work for an agency, the company takes a portion of all your commissions.

Editor

(There are many kinds of editors—this is your run-of-the-mill book editor.)

Pros: As an editor, you get to play literary Indiana Jones, looking for The Holy Grail of books. You meet with agents regularly and sift through piles and piles (and piles) of ho-hum manuscripts until you find that one jewel that excites you so much, you just know it’s going to be The Next Big Thing. You find great satisfaction in discovering new talent and using your creativity to bring out the best in an author. As an editor, your work has a nice mix of quiet time and socializing. There are many opportunities for parties and lunches, and travel is a big component of your job. A good editor will travel often and have many opportunities to meet famous people. If you do your job well, the climb up the corporate ladder can be relatively quick.

Cons: Deadlines, deadlines, deadlines. Your life is one big deadline. You work long hours and rarely take vacations. The pay can be low, at least to start. It can take a long time to prove your worth as an editor, i.e. bring in a bestselling or well-respected book. The job requires you to be exceedingly well-rounded; social yet disciplined, literary yet extroverted, creative yet practical. You must learn how to get your points across to sensitive authors without stepping on their toes. In addition to working with authors, you have to coordinate deadlines across many departments in-house (sales, marketing, design, etc), which means that many variables are out of your control, yet still your responsibility. If anything goes wrong, you will bear the brunt of the author’s anger. Nearly all the big houses are located in New York.

Other Options

If you decide to explore the editorial side of publishing, you’ll quickly discover that there are many opportunities: sales, publicity, book design, copy writing and fact checking, just to name a few.

Understanding Your Royalty Statement—Part II

As I mentioned before, royalty statements can be confusing to read, but it’s in your best interest to become familiar with them. In general, the larger the publishing house, the more confusing the statement. On the other hand, big publishing houses also give more information, which can be helpful. Because statements vary so much, you may or may not find some of the elements I’m about to discuss. Know that if you ever have any questions about your statement, your agent or editor will be happy to help you make sense of it.

Know Your Editions

Most books are published in several different forms, so you will often find separate listings for each edition of the book. For example, we’re all familiar with the hardcover and paperback editions. Did you know, however, that paperbacks are divided into two categories? There are the fancy, larger-sized, more literary-looking trade paperbacks and then there are the cheaper, drugstore variety mass market paperbacks. Most hardcover books become one or the other, unless you’re a mega-bestseller, in which case you might become both.

Other editions you might find on your statement are library editions, large-print, electronic, and audio books. Your publisher may or may not control the rights to these editions (look at your contract to know) so you may or not find them on your statement. If, for instance, your agent sold the audio rights to another company, you can expect to receive a separate statement from that company.

Check the Contract

When you receive your first royalty statement, it’s important to have your contract open and to compare the details with those on the statement. Is the pub date correct? Is the advance correct? Do they list the correct royalty payout (very important)? Is the retail price correct? If any of these numbers are off, it will affect your bottom line.

Units Vs. Earnings

Your sales are represented in two ways: units and earnings. Units are the number of books sold and earnings are your monetary share of those sales. For example, if you sell 100 books at $20 each and your royalty is 10% of sales, your earnings are $200 (100 x 20 x .10 = 200). Therefore, under the heading “Units” you’ll see 100 and under “Earnings” you’ll see $200.

On your first few statements, the number of units sold will be a pretty decent number. DON’T GET EXCITED JUST YET. Now is not the time buy a boat or head to the nearest watering hole and buy everyone a round of drinks. The units sold on your statement is actually the number of books purchased BY BOOKSTORES and not by consumers. For example, a Barnes & Noble might say, “Sure this looks like a good book—we’ll put five copies in each store.” This purchase is what you see on your statement. The catch is that if Barnes & Noble doesn’t sell those copies, they have the option of returning them to the publisher for a refund. This is why your publisher will occasional hold back a percentage of sales, called a “Reserve for Returns” until a certain amount of time has passed (more on this here). For the first several royalty statements, you’ll see all kinds of sales, and then after a few accounting periods have gone by the returns will kick in and you’ll start to see negative units (unless, of course, you’re Stephenie Meyer). It’s a discouraging sight, but take heart—it happens to most authors.

As far as earnings go, it’s important to remember that just because there were sales, it doesn’t mean you’ll be seeing a fat check anytime soon, due to that pesky thing called an advance. Advance is short terminology for “Advance Payment Against Royalties,” meaning you won’t see a penny of your royalties until you “earn back” your advance. Any amount above the advance is your true royalty. The nice thing about an advance though, is that you get the money up front and if you fail to earn enough to equal your advance (also known as “earning out”) you still get to keep it.

Be Aware of Escalations

Many contracts contain different royalty percentages, depending on sales. For example, the publisher might agree to pay you 10% of sales for the first 10,000 copies sold, 12% for the next 10,000, and 15% thereafter. This is called an escalation. If your contract contains an escalation, it is very important you pay attention to the number of units sold, and that the royalty percentages escalate properly.

Cumulative Units and Earnings

The cumulative columns are the most important part of your statement. This is where you’re going to find mistakes, if there are any. The cumulative columns show the total units sold to date and the total earnings to date.

This is where you need to do a little math. When you receive your second royalty statement, add the units sold with the units from the first statement and make sure it agrees with the cumulative units on the second statement. Do the same with the earnings. If you have an unearned balance from your advance, you’ll also want to subtract cumulative earnings from the initial advance to make sure the balance is correct. It sometimes helps to keep a small ledger of just statement dates and unearned balance amounts, since this is the most important number to know.

Next Time--The Multi-Book Contract: Is It Worth It?

American Idol Redux (Or, How Not to Get a Big Head)

Here I am, blogging about American Idol again. I can’t help it. There’s so much the show has to teach us about being artists—maybe I should do a whole series of posts on what we can learn from watching this bit of reality fluff.

Last time, I wrote about how important it is to learn how to handle criticism well. The focus was mainly on negative criticism, but as I’ve been watching the show this season, it’s occurred to me that we need to talk about handling praise, too.

If you’ve ever watched the show, you’ll know that when a contestant stands before the judges after his performance, one of two things will happen: he’ll be praised or criticized. If he’s praised, the contestant will often sigh with relief, throw this head back, and close his eyes as if to say, I’m good, I’m really good—even Simon thinks so! The crowd will cheer, affirming that this praise is the gospel truth. If he’s criticized, he’ll make excuses, become defensive, or declare it is “simply the judges’ opinion” and the crowd will boo. Apparently, if the comments are negative, they can’t be true.

Where does this attitude that praise is always true and criticism isn’t come from? As I mentioned before, automatically dismissing negative criticism is harmful to artists, who should always be striving to improve their craft. What may be even more harmful, though, is believing every nice thing said about you.

Now, I’m all for self-confidence—you can’t send your art into the world without having true faith in yourself—but I am against believing your own hype. Everyone in the entertainment industry, from movie producers to publishers, is always on the lookout for the next BIG thing. They want it so badly that when they find a project they really love, they hype it to the high heavens, sometimes forgetting that there is a person attached to this project who might be getting their hopes up.

This happens to new writers all the time. You sell your book to a publishing house and suddenly your agent and your editor are telling you about all the important people who loved your book. They tell you about the movie scouts who called. They tell you about the foreign publishers who are lined up to buy it and all the marketing campaigns that are planned. There is loose talk about trips, tours, TV shows. Oprah. Awards. Soon, the reviews come in and you’re compared to Mark Twain or Charles Dickens.

And it this point it would be so, so easy to sit back and think “I’ve made it.” For a few, this will be the case. For most, it won’t. And while your agent and editor were genuine in their excitement, neither one has the power to control the market nor the ability to know just what will strike a chord with the reading public. Sadly, if you’ve bought into all the grand predictions and none of them pan out, you’ll end up feeling like a failure, when you’re nothing of the sort.

Or maybe all the predictions hold true and you become a superstar. Wonderful. But be on guard—the moment you begin to believe the hype, you’ll be in danger of becoming complacent and your work will suffer.

A few years ago I had the terrific opportunity to sign copies of my book at Book Expo America. I can’t tell you what a thrill it was to be sitting only a few booths away from people I’ve long admired—Michael Cunningham, Spike Lee, Bill Maher. There were posters and stacks of post cards with the cover of my book on them and a long line of people who wanted to get a copy. I did a reading, a phone interview, met some of my foreign publishers. At night I collapsed in my hotel room overlooking Central Park and in the morning I woke up to room service. I was in heaven.

But after a few days, I have to say that I was starting to get a little sick of myself. All that praise and special attention was addictive, but it was also beginning to ring a little hollow. And here I was, just a first-time novelist. I could only imagine what it felt like to be a true celebrity, when people licked your boots all day, every day.

At the end of my trip, at a special dinner thrown by my publisher, I asked my college mentor, Richard Russo, how he handled praise. He’s certainly had his share, especially after winning the Pulitzer Prize for his novel EMPIRE FALLS. In answer to my question, he pointed to his wife, saying that she helped keep him steady. He also said that no matter who you are, there will inevitably come a time when people won’t talk about you anymore—or at least not as much as they did—and if you aren’t secure in yourself, you risk falling apart.

It seems to me that when it comes to praise and criticism, it’s important to keep a certain baseline of confidence that holds steady in the face of scathing reviews or spectacular praise. Any comment thrown your way should be received with proper perspective and a little distance. Remember that the work is being judged, not you. Your value as a person has nothing to do with your level of fame or talent, and cannot be altered even if you become a giant success or spectacular failure.

It's All Right To Think You're The Greatest--Just Keep It To Yourself

Tess Gerritsen has a great blog entry over at Murderati about how arrogance can kill your chances of getting an agent. The story she tells is not an isolated incident—in fact, it is all too common.

Querying an agent is a lot like going on a job interview. The agent isn't only interested in a writer's talent, but she also wants to know if this is someone she will enjoy working with. No agent wants to work with someone who is pesky, demanding, and think they're God's gift. A humble attitude goes much, much further than overconfidence.

Understanding Your Contract -- Part I

I thought it might be helpful to give a brief overview of that most intimidating of documents--the twenty-page book contract. It’s been ten years since I’ve worked with author contracts, so please take my info as guide and not gospel; that being said, the publishing industry is old and slow to change. Most of what I knew then should still be relevant today.

The first thing you need to know is that you will be given a standard contract with just a few variables thrown in. Ninety-five percent of the contract will apply to you as it applies to everyone else. This contract has been carefully hammered out over the years by attorneys, agents, and publishers alike, and is relatively fair to all involved. There are sections that protect the publisher and sections that protect the author. There is no reason to approach a contract from a reputable publishing house with undue paranoia. At the same time, it is imperative that you and your agent review the contract thoroughly. If there is something you don’t like in the there, negotiate a change. I’ve rarely encountered a contract that didn’t have a clause or two axed or amended.

Here’s a brief overview of the major clauses in an average contract:

Grant and Territory: This describes how long the contract will be in effect, where the publisher will publish the book, and in what language. Exclusive world rights, for example, means the publisher can print the book in any language and sell it anywhere in the world. If you live in the US and your contract says "exclusive publication in the English language in the United States", that means you will able to sell your book to any number of foreign publishers—which means more opportunities to make money.

Subsidiary Rights: Sub-rights cover a whole host of things from motion picture rights, to Braille editions, to e-books, etc. There is also something called “first serial rights” and “second serial rights”. First serial rights are when a magazine publishes a portion of your novel before its release; second serial rights are when it’s published after. Sub-rights are side deals made with other companies, and the advances paid out are often split between the author and the publisher, 50/50, though first serial rights are usually split 90% to the author and 10% to the publisher.

Advance: This is the amount of money the publisher has agreed to pay you for the manuscript. The advance is rarely paid out all at once, and is commonly paid out in thirds. For example, if your advance is $1,500, it will usually state that $500 is to be paid out upon signing of the contract, another $500 is to be paid out when you deliver the final manuscript to the publisher, and the final third will paid out upon publication of the work.

Royalties: Here is where you’ll find the details of what percentage you’ll be paid for each book sold. Usually there is an escalation, which means the royalty rate increases with the number of books sold. Here are some typical royalty rates and escalations:

Hardcover:

10% for the first 5,000 copies
12 ½% for the next 5,000 copies
15% on all copies sold thereafter

Trade Paperback (fancy, larger paperback)

7 ½ % for all copies sold

Mass-Market (cheaper, supermarket paperback)

8% for the first 150,000 copies sold
10% on all copies thereafter

Reserve For Returns: In order to understand the reserve for returns, you first have to know a little bit about how bookstores purchase books. Initially, they put in an order—for the sake of argument, let’s say 100 copies. On your royalty statement, these 100 books will show as sold. Unfortunately, the bookstore might only sell 50 copies. After some time has passed, the bookstore then has the option of returning the unsold books to the publisher for a refund. So even if your royalty statement shows 100 sold, in reality only 50 books were sold.

To plan for eventual returns, the publisher picks an arbitrary percentage called the reserve for returns. Twenty-percent is common. This means that if your royalty statement says you should be paid for 100 copies sold, they have the right to withhold 20% of the payment in reserve on the chance that some of them might be returned. After a pre-determined amount of time has passed, the publisher will then release the reserve, meaning that 20% may now be accounted for. (Note: The reserve for returns is a frequent sticking point for authors. A 20% return, in my opinion, is fair, but something in the range of 40-50% is excessive. Also, any author would do well to monitor their royalty statements, to make sure the reserve is released at the agreed time.)

On my next post, I’ll cover clauses related to production, as well as an author’s responsibility and rights.