Well, since you asked, I'll voice what is likely an unpopular opinion, but that's never stopped me before. :) And that is this: I HATE blurbs - hated asking for them, hate being on the receiving end of being asked (more on that below - it's not how it sounds), hate the nepotism that comes along with them, hate that the industry expects authors to round up blurbs and that these blurbs somehow make a book more worthy or lucrative.
Have I made that clear enough? :)
Before I'm accused of not being a team-player, let me explain my reasoning. To begin with, other than for a debut author, I'm not even sure how much blurbs matter. I don't really think that, for all the anxiety they cause, they sell books. (I'm sure others disagree.) I think they do help get your marketing team excited, and that may translate to getting the sales team excited, but at the end of the day...do they make or break anything? I say no...though again, others may say yes. I've posed this question here and to others in the past, and I really don't think the number of readers who buy a book due to a blurb equals anything more than a fraction of sales.
As an author who has asked for blurbs in the past, I can confirm that this process is excruciating. As if getting published and facing rejection after rejection isn't hard enough, you're still not done: you are then expected to go out to your peers and ask them to read your manuscript and pray that they don't reject you. You try not to have hard feelings if they do (or if they ignore you), and when they do, you may take it personally. When someone is kind enough to indeed blurb you, it feels like the greatest victory in the world. But that we need this validation, and that authors are expected to endure seeking this validation, kind of sucks. I truly think that asking for blurbs is almost humiliating for an author, for lack of a better word. Like Sally Field, begging to be liked. (Please note that this is my perspective from having gone through it, NOT because I think authors SHOULD feel humiliated for asking - very big difference.)
As an author who is often asked for blurbs, I can also confirm that the process on the other side of the equation is no more enjoyable. What I mean by that is that I'm THRILLED to help other authors - I hope that much is clear, and I'm THRILLED to take a look at someone's ARC. But then the pesky problems set in: what if you "know" this person (with Twitter, blogging, etc, these days, the networks are wide and tangled) and you don't like their work? What if you offend someone, unintentionally, by not having the time to get to his/her book? What if you're simply taxed from having a 10-book deep stack on your nightstand and want to be selfish for a few months and solely read for pleasure? What if you blurb one author who knows another author whom you didn't blurb? It's equally tricky - and exhausting - on the other side. Again, this isn't me saying I'm not happy to blurb or take a look at ARCs, it's just me saying that it's a complicated process and one that I wish none of us had to endure.
So to answer your question, unfortunately, I think that there is anxiety for ALL parties when it comes to blurbing, and no one really likes it any more than anyone else. I wish the industry could come up with some other way to distinguish one book from another (notice I didn't say one GOOD book from another, because half the time, I swear, people just blurb their friends' books, whether or not they're good), but since they haven't, I'll return to that 10-book stack on my nightstand and try to ensure that one debut author whom I really think deserves wild success gets my endorsement. Having been on both sides of the coin, I don't know what else to do.
I'd love to hear from you guys out there: blurbs, yay or nay? Anyone want to share his or her experience from whichever side of the process you're on?
]]>Some authors can juggle manuscripts like playboys do girlfriends, but I am not one of those authors. I am, in keeping with the analogy, a serial monogamist. For me, my protagonist's voice is so important that if I don't give myself the space and concentration to focus solely on that voice, I really lose my way. I struggled with this in the initial drafts of The One That I Want, not because I was working on another manuscript but because I hadn't purged my previous protagonist from my brain, and thus, Tilly, my new heroine, ended up sounding like a weird mash-up of Jillian, my old protagonist, and someone who was trying awfully hard not to sound like my old protagonist. It didn't work at all.
As to whether I keep notes on future projects, the answer to that is also no. To be honest, I swear that when I'm right in the muck of writing a book, I never even think I have another one in me. I always tell myself that this one will be the last because I can't imagine a) coming up with another concept and b) putting myself through this all again! :) So the last thing on my mind is coming up with other ideas. I always feel sort of grateful that I've come up with the one I'm dealing with as it is. THAT said, I do think that a lot of other writers entertain different concepts, and certainly, some writers alternate between manuscripts. I admire the hell out of that, it's just not for me.
If anyone here does juggle, maybe you can post your technique as to how you do so, since I don't think I've been too much of a help in answering this reader's question!
]]>So, first of all, you have your book and you have your literary agent. In most cases, your literary agent will connect you with a film agent, and this film agent may or may not agree to take on your book/work. Many times, he or she doesn't. Getting a film agent is, believe it or not, even harder than landing a lit agent, and they pass on many more projects than they say yes to.
But if you do manage to land a film agent, your agent will then (at a certain point - timing may matter, revisions may matter, publication date may matter), take your manuscript or book out to studios, production companies, directors, actresses, etc. Much in the same way that your agent will take your book out to publishing houses. Many, many of them will pass for a variety of reasons: they're developing a similar project, they think that transgendered vampires are all the rage and exclusively looking for scripts with that angle, they think your writing just plain sucks, etc, etc, etc. Hopefully, however, one or more will think, "aha! This is just what we're looking for to really bolster our chances at the Oscars," or "Gee, this book will bring us in boat loads of money and fund our children's college tuition plans for life!"
If this fortuitous turn of events should happen, your agent will negotiate an option deal, and what this means is that the studio/producer/whomever, retains the right to make your book for a designated period of time for a lump sum: I believe the standard period is 18 months, but I've heard of 12-month deals, so there may be some flexibility...not sure. After that period of time has expired, the same studio/producer has the right to renew that deal (and pay the author another lump sum) to give them another 18 months to get the movie made. This is where we currently are with Time Of My Life. That the option has been renewed is very positive news because the studio has had quite some time to digest the book and their hopes for it, and often times, options are NOT renewed because the studio realizes that the project (for them) isn't going anywhere. They're not going to write you another check if they have zero expectations for it.
If nothing happens after this second period of time, you and your agent then have the right to shop the book around to new buyers. In fact, if the option isn't renewed the first time around, you can, of course, do that as well. And on the very fortuitous chance that the movie gets made, you then get paid a much bigger lump sum than the option money. A win-win for all involved.
So that's how it breaks down. (More or less: I'm sure that there are a lot of other variables that I haven't covered, and I'm not an expert, so don't sue if you've heard of differing experiences!) Right now, it feels like Time of My Life has cleared a lot of hurdles, and my fingers (and toes) will remain crossed that things keep moving in that upward direction!
]]>Also, thanks to everyone who played along in all of these contests! What I loved MOST about this last one is that it proved that people are definitely still reading and buying books, even in the sea of gloom and doom in our industry. Good books find people, and whether it's the old-fashioned way or via Kindle or iPad or whatever, readers still love reading. Yay!
If you didn't win, don't fret. I'll be getting actual real copies of the book (the galley is an unedited version with mistakes and some wonky sentences, etc) in less than two months, and I'll give oodles away. OR, if you really want to get a jump in the game and make me happy at the same time (!!), feel free to go ahead and pre-order it now. :)
Thanks again, guys! So much fun.
]]>Think of your query like a first date - you want to give something away but not give, ahem, everything away. To that end, I think you include the juicy morsels of what makes your story tick and what makes your book unique without giving away the full hog. For my The Department of Lost and Found query, I never, ever said what would happen to Natalie - would she live or die - and how she would resolve all of the open-ended questions that I posed in the query. I can't remember exactly what I said, but I presented all of the issues - she has cancer, her job, which had been her life-blood, gives her the boot, she decided to track down her old boyfriends, etc - and then I left it open-ended. The whole point of a query is to pique interest, to have the agent read it and raise her eyebrows and think, "Aha, now there's a book I'd love to learn the ending to." So why tell her the ending right then? Instead, i'd use a sentence or two to sum up what the protagonist then does to GET to that resolution: something about how, for example, as her life unravels, she's forced to make a decision between x and y, tries to salvage xyz, etc, etc, etc.
Again, the point of the query is NOT to provide a summary of the book. I think writers sometimes forget this. It's to provide a TASTE of the book and hint at how tantalizing the rest of the meal will be. Don't give everything away - save that for when the agent requests the full manuscript! Good luck!
]]>I think we've already exhausted the "do you want to see into the future," and "where would you like to see yourself in the future" possibilities, so let's just make this one easy.
Below, post the last great book you read - and NO, none of mine have to be named, that will not curry favor :) - and you'll be entered to win. I'll choose the winner at random on Sunday night and post here on Monday.
Ready, set, go.
]]>First of all, I'm sorry to hear about your divorce, and I hope that everything comes out okay for you in the end.
Second of all, I'm not the expert on this, but I can tell you that I've seen this discussed in the past, and my gut feeling is that you have to do what you need to for yourself to move forward with your life. And I completely think that if this means returning to your maiden name, then you should. I don't know if you go by your maiden name as your middle name - as I do - but if so, I think that's a really easy solution. Just drop the ex-husband's name. When you pitch your editors, you can simply say that you're returning to your maiden name, but that this is still you, etc. I wouldn't get into the song and dance about your personal life - I'd keep it clean and simple. Frankly, so many women keep their names, that I don't think most editors would even give this a second thought.
And you know, in thinking about this, even if you haven't kept your maiden name as your middle, I'd still just send your editors a note (when you pitch them), saying something along the same lines, and that's that. If you have a website, you can compile all of your old clips and direct clients/editors to them, and people can clearly see what you've done in the past, under whichever name you were bylined.
It's funny - your question echoed some of my own thoughts about changing my name. Not because I'm getting divorced (!!), but because I recently told my husband that part of me regretted changing it. For me, this has NOTHING to do with my personal life and more to do with my professional one: I give SO MUCH to my family, that I sometimes wish that I'd reserved my professional name just for me, for the me I used to be. I think it's too late for me to change back, given my books, but it's something I think about - sort of how Courteney Cox dropped the Arquette. (Again, having nothing to do with my marriage and everything to do with my professional identity.) So if this is important to you - reclaiming your name after your divorce, and I can certainly understand why it would be - I say you go for it.
Anyone out there ever done this? Have any advice for our reader?
]]>And so I've reached that inevitable point in the ms in which the writing process has become, well, I suppose "less fun" is a nice way to put it, while "torturous' would be equally appropriate. As the manuscript stands, it's 41k words in - nearly halfway to my end point - and bam - I've hit a wall.
The reason I'm blogging about this isn't to make you feel sorry for me (though you're welcome to, hee!), but rather because I think this is the point at which MANY aspiring novelists also hit walls, and this is also the point at which many people step away from their manuscripts never to return again. In other words, writing half of a book really isn't too difficult. Writing the entire thing - nurturing it in the way it deserves, going back and pulling it apart and putting it back together, trudging on when the going gets tough - is. It is very, very difficult, and overcoming these roadblocks is what often sets published writers apart from unpublished.
So, to that end, I'm spending a lot of time thinking - not writing - but thinking about what I can do to pick the momentum back up. What problems can I create for my heroine? I'm feeling like things have gotten a little stagnant in her world, so what can I do to shake that up? How can I veer her life totally off-course? By doing this, I'm going to be able to create some movement, some quantifiable action that will help get me (and her) back to where I want to be. This is where you have to dig deep, force yourself to keep going even when you feel like hitting your head against a wall. Because this past week, that's what I've wanted to do. (Well, really, what I've wanted to do is spend the day procrastinating by surfing the web from 9-5, but figuratively speaking, I've wanted to bash my head against a wall.) This is the hurdle that I promise you EVERY published writer has had to leap over.
I wasn't expecting this. I was expecting for this book to be 100% smooth sailing, but now that I'm here, I'm realizing that these hurdles are going to make this a better book. I've re-evaluated a plot that I'm going to go back and tweak, I've added in another character to complicate relationships. I'll keep mixing and adding in ingredients until the dish is finished. I'm under contract - I don't have a choice. :) But if you hit this wall, act like you don't have a choice either. It's a lot easier to step away at 40k words and never come back to a manuscript that's giving you problems. Of course, the bigger problem with that is that the manuscript will never be the one that might take you from aspiring to published.
So keep going. I'm going to be doing the same.
]]>First, just to be clear, never, ever send your manuscript to an agent unless he or she has requested it. That's one of the surest ways to get your email dumped into the trash pile, not to mention look really unprofessional. But assuming the agent has requested your manuscript, I always just sent it via Word file when he or she asked for it electronically, and yes, when the agent requested a hard copy, I sent off, well, a hard copy. My poor printer. In those cases, I printed out one version, then took the rest to the copy store.
But that was years ago, I do think that increasingly, agents are relaying solely on electronic submissions - I know mine can now download those Word documents to her kindle - so hopefully, the hard copies are things of the past. This is also one of the reasons that I opted to only pitch agents who (at the time) accepted queries via email. I'm of the mindset that there are efficient - and not so efficient ways - to run your business, and even though it might sound irrational, I didn't want to be repped by an agent who didn't rely on her email as much as I did. (Again, this was years ago, so it may be that almost all agents do take e-queries by now, but four or five years ago, they didn't.) Just one way that I actively narrowed down my search for an agent who really would be perfect for me. I got lucky and found her. But this is another reminder to consider your agent search wisely: there are a lot of great agents out there, but not all might be great for you.
Follow up question of the day: I am going to be sending out queries - mostly for short FOB- type articles - and I was wondering, do you send the query itself in the body of the email, or do you attach it as a word doc and use the email itself as an introduction?
You know how you sometimes get funky looking emails with attachments, and you always delete them because you worry they might be a virus? Yeah, that's how editors view your own queries with attachments. Never attach them, unless specifically told. Not only might editors think they're viruses, but you're asking them to take one extra step - an extra time from their day - to open it, and I can guarantee you that they won't. Instead, include your pitch in the body of the email. The end.
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