TexAnne, that's part of "branding." The thinking now among marketing people is that you will encounter readers who won't read a "grown-up book" by "a YA author," even if the books are quite different. You'll see readers who won't pick up a mystery or even a mainstream novel if it's by "a romance author." This leads to lots of pseudonym use, it seems. The "plus" of having a known name is made into a "minus" when you are writing something that's not like the last thing you wrote (and thus it may not appeal to the same readership.)
Much credence is given to the idea of "branding"--meaning if you pick up a Janet Evanovich novel, it's going to be a Stephanie Plum or another chick crime novel that's a humorous/hardboiled cross. I tried using the argument that Carole Nelson Douglas writes both mystery and fantasy, but she's already written the "breakout novel" that made her a NYT bestseller, and that means she's a brand unto herself and doesn't have to worry so much. Though if she did a legal thriller, her fans who picked it up might be upset and disappointed, having expected the tone to be similar to that in her other books.
I don't think like marketing gurus. But they know how to make a lotta cash, so we defer to them. No one ever went broke underestimating the capacity of the public for being manipulated and actually "getting into" being manipulated, after all.
Don't worry too much about this experiment. People will put the interpretation they prefer on the results. They may have "read somewhere" that Bestseller A was rejected 20 times, but the idea of taste and likes/dislikes doesn't really register. They don't understand that part of getting your book published is being lucky enough to connect with that agent/editor who does "get" your book. They think that the work itself "is good if it gets published, and must be crappy if it never does." I believe there are other factors, but the people reading those articles, for the most part, don't. They feel that a book is crap, or it's not. It follows that the writer is either a no-talent, or is a "real" one who has sold a book. (I speak here of non-industry people.) Conversely, they think that any book that got published must be what a book is supposed to be.
I wish the industry still *could* use different rejection letters. It used to be that I constantly got "not right for us" letters or letters saying that the schedule was filled through the next two years. For the past couple of years, though, I've gotten "we simply did not love this enough" or "in this competitive market, it did not have that extra spark." So perhaps there *are* different form letters (possibly all meaning the same thing--"BORing.") But rejectomancy COULD become a real discipline if rejection letters noted which condition holds. Maybe the crazies and newbies wouldn't know the diff between the "we don't publish fantasy" and "our list is full" letters and the "this is not ready for prime time" letter, but everyone else could figure it out, and that'd be helpful. You might not need a rewrite, a workshop, a blowtorch to correct a novel that came back with an authentic "our list is full" rejection. Out here on this end, one never really knows whether it's a waste of postage to keep sending the novel out.
O'course, that would take too much time and would mean that some percentage of recipients would write back to argue with editors. You're not in the business of telling me anything about my work, and you don't have time to do it, so that probably won't happen. It used to happen as late as the mid-1970s when my cousin had an editor basically working with him through two drafts SANS promises or contracts (he'd get letters with advice about revisions, and he'd revise, or he'd send a new book, and another letter with more advice came back.) But the world was different then. That editor wasn't working under the pressure of the bottom line all the time. I suppose the important thing is not to encourage the crazies and the hopefuls who will read all kinds of promises into other kinds of rejection letters.
>>The number one reason anyone buys a book is that they read and enjoyed a previous book by the same author.
This is true for me. On the other hand, often I pick up books by writers whose names I don't recognize. And my husband is notorious for never remembering authors' names; he can't even remember J. K. Rowling. He says he has just as much luck finding books he likes when he goes out and randomly grabs one that he hasn't read that is out from a fantasy imprint, so he doesn't bother to remember authors' names (this leads to many "discussions" in our household, but to no avail--I can't bring him around to the author's POV that it's the most important thing on the cover.) So if that number one reason isn't there--Connie Willis hasn't published anything in a while--I have to go and find something based on reading a few snippets from the middle of the book and getting a feel for what it's about. I usually check to see whether the author knows when to use the subjunctive, and I make sure there are a few semicolons--properly used, of course. Because style affects my ability to continue hearing the author's voice in my mind (I can't stand clunky prose, but I'll stick with a great voice and wait for the bang-boom-action to begin--if it does--so long as there are clever turns of phrase and interesting sentences), this works for me. *grin* I don't read for plot/story so much as I do for the vicarious experience, the feeling of being in someone else's life/thoughts. But then I am not typical.
I should mention that Nietzsche said, "He who would be a creator must first become a destroyer and break tables of values." So there you are.
Going off now to bust up them multiplication tables.
Well, it's kind of up to the artist whether he/she wants to make the suggested revisions. It can be an "invasion" of your creative vision, and it can be really tough to visualize what will turn up once you've started cutting and pasting (you think it might be a patchwork quilt and a mess, and it scares you.) I have no influence on this lady. Were it I, and I had a book contract in hand (which is, I presume, the reason she has said revision letter in hand as well), I'd be all over it like stink on s--I mean, like white on rice. However, it's an artistic decision, and it can be painful to take out all those lovely descriptions of the Ukranian sunset as seen from inside one's bellybutton (I saved mine in the "Deletia" file for the fifteenth book in the series, when my readers won't mind so much). Sometimes you'll envision revisions (that's a cool phrase), and it'll seem the book *was* better from an artistic viewpoint before you revised it, and other times it *wasn't*, but if that's what's going to make it commercial . . . all I can say is, I wish THAT were my problem (having an editorial letter in hand, I mean.) I have to send out, get rejected wordlessly, and then figure out whether/what to revise. Which is far more chancy, quality-wise (and may lack wisdom entirely.)
So I suppose I'm kind of on "her side" in a sense and hoping you'll be patient, and in another sense I'm impatient with her as well--not because I know anything about the book, but because my life (unlike hers, judging by her bio page) has seemed like one long endless struggle (interrupted by a few long, soaking baths and several temper tantrums) to write something that a New York editor would buy , and I would hope that people who *do* sell would be all over doing whatever it takes to get that book into the production line. But what do I know?
Please don't be angry at Senator Kerry for conceding. He fought the good fight, endured incredibly twisted attacks, kept his cool, kept promising hope and help until it became obvious that people didn't WANT help, just "security" (which isn't really secure.) Kerry's team has been up all night trying to calculate the possibilities, and the "facts" (such as they are) are that the votes just aren't there. People apparently voted their idiocy. I always said people are stupid. The sheep want Bush as their bellwether. Frankly, I think Kerry is the lucky one, because he doesn't have to try to dig us out of this hole. God knows what'll happen now that there's absolutely no opposition left standing. (Kerry will probably say in a minute here that he'd like to extend a hand across the aisle and work together bipartisan-wise, but Bush never did that, even here in Texas, and he's contemptuous of those not as powerful as he is. A word to the wise--be careful what you say from now on, even couched in diplomatic language. I'm going to have to tighten up on my own comments.)
Mostly, I'm concerned about what'll continue to happen to erode our civil rights and freedom of speech (to speak out and criticize the gov't and its decisions). I can't worry about all the war killings, because I've realized something. Something daunting.
About half of the USA . . . WANTS to fight and "kick ass" and kill. They always support attacks and war and invasions/occupations because they feel we're the policeman of the world. If there's no enemy, they don't know what to do. When there's an "enemy" to focus on, they feel normal again. That is all I can conclude when I hear all the comments about "homeland security" and "fight the war on terror" and all the confusion that is associated with each. The warlike half is about 52%, looks like to me. The rest of you who aren't white Protestants or who need Social Security or wanted gay people to have partnerships or whatever . . . well, unfortunately, the high school cliques just shouted, "Majority rules!" and raised their hands in a pep squad cheer. Unfortunately, they have not realized that they NEED diversity and balance or they, too, will lose their way. Continue to lose their way, I mean.
People get the gov't they deserve. And while I would not be surprised to discover that "the fix was in" in Florida and Ohio already (in other words, cheating took place somehow that we haven't completely seen yet), I can still see that the ones who like to censure others and feel superior are still out there, and they're in the majority. Like always. How is this different from business as usual? We had a good run there of freedoms. Now the pendulum has swung back, as it historically often does. We can only hope that people will wake up and organize to take the country back . . . unless they outnumber us, in which case we'll just have to cope if we want to carry on living.
Looks like for now . . . they outnumber us.
We've nearly lost the thread of guys in skirts/kilts. Okay, uncle, I give; maybe that lady with the deep voice who let me cut in front of "her" in line at Tom Thumb the other day was really, let's say, differently chromosomed from me. However, I will say that I find pants or jeans or stretch leggings far more comfy than skirts, anyway . . . those guys clearly are not trying to wear cheap pantyhose. Talk about a rash. No, don't. Try not to think about it. I can't get away with not wearing pantyhose with skirts most of the time. But maybe if I were skinnier and more tanned or something. There's nothing hotter than pantyhose and a slip and all that rot and a longish skirt in the Texas summer. *Shorts*. That's the costume of choice.
I salute the notion that an unpublished manuscript may be just as good as or better than the published books stacked beside it on the piano bench. I tend to prefer midlist books to the "blockbusters." But I know I'm in the minority. Business is business, I suppose. There's still a lot of luck involved in all of this.
Oh, and Gordon Van Gelder wrote that he didn't "get" my last two stories. That was about three (five?) years ago. I thought those were somewhat promising rejections. However, it is worrisome that I still "get" the stories. Something's wired differently on this side of the pixelstream. (This is not the only clue I have that this is so, either.)
Whoops. Varia: ("adam's apple" joke can be extremely hurtful)--we hadn't thought of that (obviously.) We were riffing on the line near the end of the beloved film, _To Wong Foo, Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar_. (Julie Newmar was quite the good sport about all this, too.) We were just blathering along un-filtered and unedited. Sorry if it upset anyone. Once again, I've made us look like horse's patooties. (Though it shouldn't be a surprise: I have been asked to model for the horse-pantaloons catalog before. Hmm.)
Mitch--yep, also love _Priscilla, Queen of the Desert_. (How off-topic can I get?) Recently came across the soundtrack CD for that, which I bought several years ago, and I hadn't even opened it. Sheesh.
Hmm. I just couldn't imagine a "straight" (whatever that means) guy running about town in a sundress (no matter how hot it is) who isn't either doing a dare/bet or "into" wearing dresses. But then I'm not exactly the globe-hopping metrosexual/whatever-it-is when it comes to style, so who knows. Bear in mind that I live just north of Dallas, Texas, and that if a fuzzy guy in a sundress were to walk across the main quad at Texas A&M (not too far south of us), I'd bet you would probably hear dozens of rifle bolts being drawn back in the dorm rooms that border the quad. "It's a mercy killing," would be heard as the roommates restrained the eager marksmen. . . .
Or maybe A&M has become liberal in the past fifteen years or so. I wouldn't count on it, though. [wry grin]
Patrick Weekes writes:
>I received no response to:
- My initial three-chapters-and-synopsis, which included an SASE
- My query letter with SASE, sent after one year
- My query e-mail, sent after another six months
(etc.)
I can beat that. But I will not reveal the name of the publishing house where this particular event happened. I'm just telling you so you can get some idea of the length of time submitting novels can take. And to show you how authors can get their hopes up based on just about any encouragement.
I got my manuscript back in the mail from a respected publishing house about a year after sending the partial, with generic cover rejection. I stomped off to the piano and roared through half my repertoire. That night, I wished upon a star that it had been a mistake. The next morning, an e-mail message arrived for me from the editorial assistant at that house. (I am not making this up.) It explained that my manuscript, along with a couple of others, had been sent back by mistake. It was supposed to be in a "this is good" pile. I was invited to send the entire manuscript again. (I am still not making this up.) Thrilled, and thinking, "Oh, boy, I should've asked that star for a lottery win and straight teeth," I boxed up another copy (I had made some little comma-in, comma-out revisions) and sent the little hopeful along again. Didn't hear back; a year has passed. Sent an e-mail follow-up a few months ago, but haven't heard back.
Am now afraid to send a nudge letter or a Valentine or a large anchovy/pineapple pizza for fear that this time, the book might actually be in some kind of consideration process, and I'd disrupt it. Or, worse, I might thereby become _persona non grata_ around the offices.
So . . . what to do? I decided to just wait it out a while longer. After all, it's already in the stack, whereas at a new house it would have to start over as the newcomer, and would probably get off on the wrong foot and never be truly accepted by the other boxes of paper.
I don't know the answer as to "how long we should wait." As someone said earlier, it's a buyer's market. I'm now trying my luck in another genre where the market seems to need more books faster (chick lit, actually), and there's no fancy worldbuilding involved (so it comes a little more naturally to me). I had a funny idea and a neurotic character occur to me, and it became a book. I think the turnaround time for chick lit subs might be a bit shorter, in general, than for fantasy/sf. But you just never can tell.
I think there must be quite a bit of "right place, right time" luck involved in all this.
Lenora Rose said:
>A single red line on the manuscript, marking where the editor stopped reading and reached for the return envelope. ([...]you could send back *just that page* and the form...)
You can't imagine how immensely this would help me. I never know whether to undertake major surgery on the manuscript or just stick it into another box and paste on more stamps. To know where I lost 'em might help me not to revise the first three pages again.
Mitch Wagner said:
>Writing is a commercial transaction - it is, as some disemvowelled person up top said, a BUSINESS (or, rather, BSNSS).
I try to remember this. It's tough when your heart's on the page.
Mitch also asked:
>Extra credit question: what's the difference? how would you tell?
Adam's apple. Didn't anyone else re-watch _To Wong Foo_ this weekend? [grin]
"[W]e should turn slush around faster than we do. The wait makes everything too agonizing, and the responses too important."
That would really be nice, if it were possible without spending lots of money on people to do the slush reading. It's true that if I have to wait over a year to hear back, I'm fantasizing that somebody's actually taken that manuscript home, read it, carried it to his or her supervisor or maybe even the committee, and is debating as to whether it might make the list. It's a real comedown when the little SASE arrives to set me straight.
"I always try to remember to turn page 27 upside-down again, and put the hair back in at the end of chapter two, before returning the manuscript. Scraps used to turn page 27 right-side-up, but turned two other random pages upside-down."
See, I would appreciate that bit, because it would [theoretically] tell me that he/she had read about that far. What I usually wish I knew is at what exact point the reader abandoned my novel, because then I could surmise that it wasn't very gripping or that the tension dropped off *or* that I hadn't fulfilled some of the expectations that I'd set up earlier. If two people stop reading around page fifty, telling me, "I just got bored," that's a sign that something needs to be done around page forty-five or so . . . either I didn't go in the direction I'd led the reader to believe I was heading, or I went off on some kind of tangent and didn't notice. It's nice to hear where I went wrong. If he or she read the first five chapters and *then* decided it wasn't going anyplace, I feel more encouraged than if the reader bonked it against the mail slot after three pages of "this crap."
It's tough to tell what's wrong from this end of the pipeline. My rejections are usually of the form "Wonderful book with engaging characters, but not for us," or "Talented, but you wrote the wrong book again, or [silence] because I never hear anything back at all and am afraid to write asking about it (since that's usually treated as a request to send the brick back by return mail, or at least that's the way it has worked so far.) No, actually, I *do* know what's wrong. My Muse[s] send me small, personal stories that just don't have lots of commercial potential, and I'm not doing them in a "literary" fashion ("three friends meet again after twenty years and try to sort out their lives" bit, chick flick style) and therefore can't send them to people who like slower, smaller personal stories. At least that's my current theory.
(By the way, someone pasted a link to this entry into a msg on the "Chick Lit" discussion group list, so if you get lots of responses from new people, that could be the reason.)
| Year | Number of comments posted |
|---|---|
| 2006 | 3 |
| 2005 | 2 |
| 2004 | 6 |
Total: 11 comments. View all these comments on a single page.
The most recent 20 comments posted to Making Light by Shalanna Collins:
Show all comments by Shalanna Collins.