As of today, NaNoWriMo is kicking off their third annual Pitchapalooza, which offers a neat opportunity for pitching and possibly receiving feedback. The winner lands a nice opportunity, too:
For those of you not familiar with Pitchapalooza, here’s the skinny: You get 250 words to pitch your book. Twenty-five pitches will be randomly selected from all submissions. We will then critique the pitches online so you get to see what makes a great pitch. We will then choose one winner from the group. The winner will receive an introduction to an agent or publisher appropriate for his/her manuscript. We will also crown a fan favorite who will receive a free one-hour consult with us (worth $250).
Beginning February 1, 2013, you can email your pitch to nanowrimo@thebookdoctors.com. All pitches must be received by 11:59 PST on February 28, 2013. The 25 random pitches will be posted on March 5, 2012. Winners will be announced on March 15, 2013. Anyone can vote for fan favorite, so get your social media engine running as soon as the pitches go up!
More details can be found here at the Office of Letters and Light blog.
Showing posts with label pitching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pitching. Show all posts
Friday, February 01, 2013
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Is This Your Query?
Literary Agent Janet Reid has a great post here on the reasons she turned down fifty queries, along with stats on how many of the queries fell into each no-thanks category. Aside from the fact that this is an excellent chance to get into an agent's head and see queries from her POV, it also serves as a quality assurance checklist for the query-writing author.
Let's run through the list of her reasons (quoted from her post), and I'll give you some ideas on how to tell if your query will get bounced for the same:
Thinly disguised novel that's really a memoir
Many things can trigger a novel-wrapped memoir, and writers usually go through at least one of them: a dysfunctional family, an unhappy childhood, a wretched adolescence, a lousy marriage, loss of a loved one, a career meltdown and/or a terrible divorce. So if the prominent features of your story and/or your protagonist bear a striking resemblance to you/your life, you've likely gone memoir in your novel.
There is nothing wrong with writing a memoir; I don't particularly care for them but there is a market, mainly celebrity-driven, for them. That said, a memoir is not a novel. Presenting it as a novel probably feels the same way it did to use code in your high school diary so that if your little brother snitched it from your room and picked the tiny lock he still wasn't be able to figure out who Chipmunk, Sassafrass and Mr. Whoopsie were. Don't assume the agent or the reader has to be treated like your little brother.
Recitation of events
Could your query pull double duty as a chapter summary or a synopsis of your novel? If so, you're event-reciting, not pitching. This type of play-by-play query often comes from an unwillingness or an inability on the part of the writer to condense a story into a pitch. A pitch is not a breakdown or a summary of the parts; it's a brief presentation of the whole.
Example: I could tell you I have a front end, a custom modified engine, tires, a chassis, a metallic flake scarlet paint job, a steering wheel, high-grade fuel, leather-upholstered seats, brakes, headlights, a trunk, a license plate and a rearview mirror. Or I could tell you I have a little red sportscar so fast that no cop can catch me. Now, which do you think is more interesting? Which better relates the concept of the object?
Interesting concept/query so over written it boded ill for novel
You can spot a story that suffers from over-writing (or over-workshopped writing, or over-critiqued writing) from a mile away, because by the tenth or eleventh paragraph the reader become losts in the writer's strange, complicated and mostly unidentifiable Novel LaLaLand. Same goes for the query.
I've seen a couple of these. Generally the writing is mysterious, beautiful to look at, and mainly incomprehensible; the writer tosses around enigmatic-sounding phrases like coalesced chiaroscuro conflicted characterization or denuded dichotomous delineation departure to show how well they spent a hundred grand of their parents' money on that MFA in the signature block.
No one in NY offers you a contract because no one can understand your novel, your concept, or you. Simplify, use common language, let your concept shine without loading it down with sparkles, and stop trying to outword Umberto Eco. Over-writing won't sell your book, and I think it annoys Bert.
Spent so much time telling me what the novel isn't, didn't tell me what it was:
The pitch is about your book, not about everyone else's books. An agents business is to know what's been published; they will be able to tell, right off the bat, what your novel isn't. They don't need a checklist provided upfront by you.
ewwww
Measuring the ewww-factor of your query is pretty simple: you should be able to read your query letter out loud in a crowded public place and get the people around you to listen. If instead they would throw up, run away, or have you arrested, you need to consider toning it down. Way down.
I think the author is seriously deranged
A long rant or a short manifesto presented as a novel query might make an agent think this. Common inclusions in a query that are warning signs: obvious ax-grinding, bewailing the state of the Presidency/the country/religion/sex/Publishing, insulting a majority or a minority, a laundry list of heart-breaking personal problems, emotional blackmail, the state of your finances, etc.
If you are pissed off at the world, that's okay, we all get to that place at some time or another. But a query is not a soapbox or a therapy session, so don't try to make it one. (P.S. Don't tell Janet that we're all a little deranged.)
sadly out of touch about publishing time lines
Janet explained this one better than I think I can, but here's my shot: because books take so long to get into print, you need to think ahead. If you're writing something that was popular five or ten years ago, and there are no signs of a resurgence in that popularity, you're going to come off sounding dated and out of touch. Make sure your novel has enough wow factor to be considered contemporary two years from now.
Sadly out of touch self-help book
I think this is the same as being out of touch about publishing time lines, just with a specific corner of the market. But the self-help market is like any other genre, in that it's just as subject to trends and categories and such. If I were going to write any kind of self-help, the first thing I'd do would be to extensively research the market, see what's out there and what people want to read.
Non-author submission
If you have to convince a friend in the biz to front your query, you're saying "I know the secret handshake." The problem is, there is no secret handshake.
blatant ripoff of another popular book or movie
Knockoffs are always being published, so I don't agree with this 100%, but I know a lot of writers go for writing clones instead of knockoffs. The difference between original and ripoff novels is pretty obvious, but if you're still not sure, look at it this way: Since my SF series predates James Cameron's Avatar by ten years, and has nothing to do with his movie, I am allowed to keep putting tall, exotic blue people in my books. If you want the same privilege, you'd better have a more compelling reason than you adored Avatar so much that you saw it fifty or sixty times.
Don't want to read this/cliche characters and plot
This likely comes from too many writing workshops and not enough original thinking, and the writing organizations out there who harp so much on homogenization and conformity. You can actually be brain-washed into believing that everyone wants to read Yet Another Novel about a cynical P.I., a secret baby, or a vampire brotherhood. Selling that to an agent, on the other hand, is a little tougher.
Writing is not about gaining the approval of one's peers, satisfying the Thought Police, or in any other way placating the masses. It's not something you do to fit in or make yourself look good. Writing is about setting the reader's imagination on fire; how are you going to do that by serving up something that barely registers as lukewarm in an already glutted market?
Nothing compelling or enticing about the novel
Your ability to competently put together one hundred thousand words that are spelled correctly, obey the rules of grammar and make sense does not entitle you to a publishing contract. There has to be something in all those pages that is going to provide serious competition for TV, movies, the internet, video games, sex, food and now texting. If there's not, it likely won't sell.
Nothing fresh or new with usual elements of a novel
Some people say nothing is fresh, nothing is new. And some of the time when I'm reading yet another blatant knockoff, I think they're right. But the one factor in the writing/publishing equation that is always fresh and new is you. There is only one of you. So what do you bring (or can you bring) to the novel table that no one else has?
Bad writing
No one is exempt from this, not even published writers, and I think it has several causes, like the writer's state of mind, poor editing, poor planning, stagnation, phoning it in, rushing, or just not being interested enough to present your best work. And nothing shrieks "I don't care" like bad writing.
I feel for people who have no formal writing education to speak of; I am one of you, but that didn't stop me from employing my public library card and improving my understanding of fiction, writing, and the ten thousand other things I had to learn to become a pro. And I'm sorry, but with all the free resources at hand on the internet to help you improve, polish and otherwise bring your writing up to professional level, there's simply no excuse for bad writing.
Don't want to read this
Not every agent is going to be right for you. Sometimes it's not personal or even a reflection on your work; it's a matter of an agent or editor who is a bad match for you. Remember that these people have to sell us, and if they don't feel passionate about our work, they aren't going to get us a dime. So in a sense this kind of rejection is good because it avoids a partnership that isn't going to work.
No idea what the novel is about
Writing is a journey. Whether you choose to use a map to take yours, or simply wander down this road or that to see what you find, by the time the journey ends you should be able to tell someone about it. If you don't understand, you don't remember it or you're not sure why you took the journey in the first place, this is not a time to try to sell it. Ditto for those of you who find it impossible to condense an entire journey into a couple of concise sentences. Rambling on and on in a disconnected fashion isn't going to interest anyone in taking the same journey. You have to relate what makes it worth the trip.
Querying is not a skill most of us are born with; it takes thought, practice, decision-making, concept spinning, presentation, showmanship and a lot more thought and practice. Every novel is different, so every query is new territory. The biggest favor you can do yourself is not to send out the first draft of a query you wrote in a few minutes. Set it aside. Think about it. Querying is not typing a business letter. As Janet wrote, it is HARD. And for my two cents, I think it's an art all on its own.
Look at examples of different query letters that are posted online. Read the thoughts about queries from other writers who have been able to sell a lot of books (and before you ask, mine are here and here, as well as these posts: Novel IV: Pitch, Ten Things About Novel Proposals, Queries and Synopses, and Query Nation.)
Another thing you can do is role-play with another writer or someone suitable in your family or circle of friends (and pick someone who won't kiss your backside because they love you) and have them play agent and read it. Get their reactions and think about what they tell you.
Look for rough spots in the query -- look for any place you are not writing like a professional -- and edit. Revise and rewrite. Keep at it until you have achieved the absolute best version of your query. Also, if you get any specific editorial feedback from an agent or editor who's read your query, think about that, too. They don't often have time to give us meaningful feedback, but occasionally you'll get a comment that does flag a real problem that you need to address.
In a sense, a query is like an agent all on its own: it serves as your pitchman, your sales force, your PR rep. You'd never send some smelly, lazy, loud-mouthed slob in a wrinkled suit to sell your book; don't make the mistake of mailing off the query version of that.
Let's run through the list of her reasons (quoted from her post), and I'll give you some ideas on how to tell if your query will get bounced for the same:
Thinly disguised novel that's really a memoir
Many things can trigger a novel-wrapped memoir, and writers usually go through at least one of them: a dysfunctional family, an unhappy childhood, a wretched adolescence, a lousy marriage, loss of a loved one, a career meltdown and/or a terrible divorce. So if the prominent features of your story and/or your protagonist bear a striking resemblance to you/your life, you've likely gone memoir in your novel.
There is nothing wrong with writing a memoir; I don't particularly care for them but there is a market, mainly celebrity-driven, for them. That said, a memoir is not a novel. Presenting it as a novel probably feels the same way it did to use code in your high school diary so that if your little brother snitched it from your room and picked the tiny lock he still wasn't be able to figure out who Chipmunk, Sassafrass and Mr. Whoopsie were. Don't assume the agent or the reader has to be treated like your little brother.
Recitation of events
Could your query pull double duty as a chapter summary or a synopsis of your novel? If so, you're event-reciting, not pitching. This type of play-by-play query often comes from an unwillingness or an inability on the part of the writer to condense a story into a pitch. A pitch is not a breakdown or a summary of the parts; it's a brief presentation of the whole.
Example: I could tell you I have a front end, a custom modified engine, tires, a chassis, a metallic flake scarlet paint job, a steering wheel, high-grade fuel, leather-upholstered seats, brakes, headlights, a trunk, a license plate and a rearview mirror. Or I could tell you I have a little red sportscar so fast that no cop can catch me. Now, which do you think is more interesting? Which better relates the concept of the object?
Interesting concept/query so over written it boded ill for novel
You can spot a story that suffers from over-writing (or over-workshopped writing, or over-critiqued writing) from a mile away, because by the tenth or eleventh paragraph the reader become losts in the writer's strange, complicated and mostly unidentifiable Novel LaLaLand. Same goes for the query.
I've seen a couple of these. Generally the writing is mysterious, beautiful to look at, and mainly incomprehensible; the writer tosses around enigmatic-sounding phrases like coalesced chiaroscuro conflicted characterization or denuded dichotomous delineation departure to show how well they spent a hundred grand of their parents' money on that MFA in the signature block.
No one in NY offers you a contract because no one can understand your novel, your concept, or you. Simplify, use common language, let your concept shine without loading it down with sparkles, and stop trying to outword Umberto Eco. Over-writing won't sell your book, and I think it annoys Bert.
Spent so much time telling me what the novel isn't, didn't tell me what it was:
The pitch is about your book, not about everyone else's books. An agents business is to know what's been published; they will be able to tell, right off the bat, what your novel isn't. They don't need a checklist provided upfront by you.
ewwww
Measuring the ewww-factor of your query is pretty simple: you should be able to read your query letter out loud in a crowded public place and get the people around you to listen. If instead they would throw up, run away, or have you arrested, you need to consider toning it down. Way down.
I think the author is seriously deranged
A long rant or a short manifesto presented as a novel query might make an agent think this. Common inclusions in a query that are warning signs: obvious ax-grinding, bewailing the state of the Presidency/the country/religion/sex/Publishing, insulting a majority or a minority, a laundry list of heart-breaking personal problems, emotional blackmail, the state of your finances, etc.
If you are pissed off at the world, that's okay, we all get to that place at some time or another. But a query is not a soapbox or a therapy session, so don't try to make it one. (P.S. Don't tell Janet that we're all a little deranged.)
sadly out of touch about publishing time lines
Janet explained this one better than I think I can, but here's my shot: because books take so long to get into print, you need to think ahead. If you're writing something that was popular five or ten years ago, and there are no signs of a resurgence in that popularity, you're going to come off sounding dated and out of touch. Make sure your novel has enough wow factor to be considered contemporary two years from now.
Sadly out of touch self-help book
I think this is the same as being out of touch about publishing time lines, just with a specific corner of the market. But the self-help market is like any other genre, in that it's just as subject to trends and categories and such. If I were going to write any kind of self-help, the first thing I'd do would be to extensively research the market, see what's out there and what people want to read.
Non-author submission
If you have to convince a friend in the biz to front your query, you're saying "I know the secret handshake." The problem is, there is no secret handshake.
blatant ripoff of another popular book or movie
Knockoffs are always being published, so I don't agree with this 100%, but I know a lot of writers go for writing clones instead of knockoffs. The difference between original and ripoff novels is pretty obvious, but if you're still not sure, look at it this way: Since my SF series predates James Cameron's Avatar by ten years, and has nothing to do with his movie, I am allowed to keep putting tall, exotic blue people in my books. If you want the same privilege, you'd better have a more compelling reason than you adored Avatar so much that you saw it fifty or sixty times.
Don't want to read this/cliche characters and plot
This likely comes from too many writing workshops and not enough original thinking, and the writing organizations out there who harp so much on homogenization and conformity. You can actually be brain-washed into believing that everyone wants to read Yet Another Novel about a cynical P.I., a secret baby, or a vampire brotherhood. Selling that to an agent, on the other hand, is a little tougher.
Writing is not about gaining the approval of one's peers, satisfying the Thought Police, or in any other way placating the masses. It's not something you do to fit in or make yourself look good. Writing is about setting the reader's imagination on fire; how are you going to do that by serving up something that barely registers as lukewarm in an already glutted market?
Nothing compelling or enticing about the novel
Your ability to competently put together one hundred thousand words that are spelled correctly, obey the rules of grammar and make sense does not entitle you to a publishing contract. There has to be something in all those pages that is going to provide serious competition for TV, movies, the internet, video games, sex, food and now texting. If there's not, it likely won't sell.
Nothing fresh or new with usual elements of a novel
Some people say nothing is fresh, nothing is new. And some of the time when I'm reading yet another blatant knockoff, I think they're right. But the one factor in the writing/publishing equation that is always fresh and new is you. There is only one of you. So what do you bring (or can you bring) to the novel table that no one else has?
Bad writing
No one is exempt from this, not even published writers, and I think it has several causes, like the writer's state of mind, poor editing, poor planning, stagnation, phoning it in, rushing, or just not being interested enough to present your best work. And nothing shrieks "I don't care" like bad writing.
I feel for people who have no formal writing education to speak of; I am one of you, but that didn't stop me from employing my public library card and improving my understanding of fiction, writing, and the ten thousand other things I had to learn to become a pro. And I'm sorry, but with all the free resources at hand on the internet to help you improve, polish and otherwise bring your writing up to professional level, there's simply no excuse for bad writing.
Don't want to read this
Not every agent is going to be right for you. Sometimes it's not personal or even a reflection on your work; it's a matter of an agent or editor who is a bad match for you. Remember that these people have to sell us, and if they don't feel passionate about our work, they aren't going to get us a dime. So in a sense this kind of rejection is good because it avoids a partnership that isn't going to work.
No idea what the novel is about
Writing is a journey. Whether you choose to use a map to take yours, or simply wander down this road or that to see what you find, by the time the journey ends you should be able to tell someone about it. If you don't understand, you don't remember it or you're not sure why you took the journey in the first place, this is not a time to try to sell it. Ditto for those of you who find it impossible to condense an entire journey into a couple of concise sentences. Rambling on and on in a disconnected fashion isn't going to interest anyone in taking the same journey. You have to relate what makes it worth the trip.
Querying is not a skill most of us are born with; it takes thought, practice, decision-making, concept spinning, presentation, showmanship and a lot more thought and practice. Every novel is different, so every query is new territory. The biggest favor you can do yourself is not to send out the first draft of a query you wrote in a few minutes. Set it aside. Think about it. Querying is not typing a business letter. As Janet wrote, it is HARD. And for my two cents, I think it's an art all on its own.
Look at examples of different query letters that are posted online. Read the thoughts about queries from other writers who have been able to sell a lot of books (and before you ask, mine are here and here, as well as these posts: Novel IV: Pitch, Ten Things About Novel Proposals, Queries and Synopses, and Query Nation.)
Another thing you can do is role-play with another writer or someone suitable in your family or circle of friends (and pick someone who won't kiss your backside because they love you) and have them play agent and read it. Get their reactions and think about what they tell you.
Look for rough spots in the query -- look for any place you are not writing like a professional -- and edit. Revise and rewrite. Keep at it until you have achieved the absolute best version of your query. Also, if you get any specific editorial feedback from an agent or editor who's read your query, think about that, too. They don't often have time to give us meaningful feedback, but occasionally you'll get a comment that does flag a real problem that you need to address.
In a sense, a query is like an agent all on its own: it serves as your pitchman, your sales force, your PR rep. You'd never send some smelly, lazy, loud-mouthed slob in a wrinkled suit to sell your book; don't make the mistake of mailing off the query version of that.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Generate a Pitch
During a ten list hunt I came across author Kathy Carmichael's Pitch Generator, which generates a simple novel pitch from information you fill in the blanks.
It can also help out outline a broader concept, like the core conflict of a novel series. Here's a general example (I changed some of the generated wording to encompass a series concept:)
StarDoc is a 1,000,000+ word science fiction novel series set in the far future on various alien worlds. Dr. Cherijo Grey Veil is a bioengineered cardio-thoracic surgeon who believes in doing no harm, and in fighting for freedom and equality for all life. She wants to preserve peace and life because it is essential to the survival of all species. She is prevented from attaining this goal because a malignant crystal bent on destroying all life has invaded most of the inhabited planets in the galaxy.
(Now I have to go get over the fact it took me more than a million words to tell Cherijo's story . . . )
It can also help out outline a broader concept, like the core conflict of a novel series. Here's a general example (I changed some of the generated wording to encompass a series concept:)
StarDoc is a 1,000,000+ word science fiction novel series set in the far future on various alien worlds. Dr. Cherijo Grey Veil is a bioengineered cardio-thoracic surgeon who believes in doing no harm, and in fighting for freedom and equality for all life. She wants to preserve peace and life because it is essential to the survival of all species. She is prevented from attaining this goal because a malignant crystal bent on destroying all life has invaded most of the inhabited planets in the galaxy.
(Now I have to go get over the fact it took me more than a million words to tell Cherijo's story . . . )
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Reader Requests
I'm sorting through proposals for future work this weekend to send to the agent and have her review and rate. Among other things I will be putting together my pitch for the tenth and last StarDoc novel as well as two new series, and deciding what to do about Darkyn. I'll also be mulling over what to write in 2009 as new promotional e-books.
It's a lot to think about, and I'm a bit frustrated with myself for waffling as long as I have over this. Which means it's time to touch base with my readers.
What would you like to read from me over the next couple of years? More of the same, all new stuff, or something in between? If you have a specific book or books you'd like to request, please post it in comments (the anonymous option will be enabled for today so those of you who don't have weblogs or IDs anywhere can still put in your two cents.)
It's a lot to think about, and I'm a bit frustrated with myself for waffling as long as I have over this. Which means it's time to touch base with my readers.
What would you like to read from me over the next couple of years? More of the same, all new stuff, or something in between? If you have a specific book or books you'd like to request, please post it in comments (the anonymous option will be enabled for today so those of you who don't have weblogs or IDs anywhere can still put in your two cents.)
Friday, January 11, 2008
More News
My latest proposal got a green light, so Darkyn book seven will feature Robin from Evermore as the Kyn protagonist. The working title is still Rob Forever, but that will definitely be changing in the near future. And, if all goes well, it will likely be released in January 2009.
The pitch for this particular novel involved submitting a formal synopsis and taking two phone calls to discuss it. I was very glad I had my series notebook (like a novel notebook, although more like an encyclopedia in format) on my desk while I was talking to the editor. Sometimes series proposals require you to reference back to details from earlier books, something that isn't too tough at book two but can be a real bear at book seven. As a series grows, just keeping correct running character name, status, backstory and appears-in lists is a challenge. Doing it over the phone and off the top of your head is nearly impossible.
I prefer written proposals to verbal pitches because you have time to think things through, work them out and polish them up before you put them in front of an editor. Verbal pitches often fluster me because I'm more comfortable on paper versus the phone. You never know when an editor will put you on the spot with unexpected questions during a telephone pitch, either. You can be talking about book A, and she/he may ask something like, "So who do you see as the protagonists for book B, C and D?"
I know some writers prepare index cards for pitching, and I tried that at a couple of conference editor appointments during my first years in the biz, but I never felt comfortable with handling the cards. Too nervous, I suppose. I always forgot to glance casually at the ones that I didn't drop while shuffling. And God forbid the editor ask me something that wasn't on the cards.
Have you guys any special methods or memory boosters that help you with verbal pitches and/or written proposals? Let us know in comments.
The pitch for this particular novel involved submitting a formal synopsis and taking two phone calls to discuss it. I was very glad I had my series notebook (like a novel notebook, although more like an encyclopedia in format) on my desk while I was talking to the editor. Sometimes series proposals require you to reference back to details from earlier books, something that isn't too tough at book two but can be a real bear at book seven. As a series grows, just keeping correct running character name, status, backstory and appears-in lists is a challenge. Doing it over the phone and off the top of your head is nearly impossible.
I prefer written proposals to verbal pitches because you have time to think things through, work them out and polish them up before you put them in front of an editor. Verbal pitches often fluster me because I'm more comfortable on paper versus the phone. You never know when an editor will put you on the spot with unexpected questions during a telephone pitch, either. You can be talking about book A, and she/he may ask something like, "So who do you see as the protagonists for book B, C and D?"
I know some writers prepare index cards for pitching, and I tried that at a couple of conference editor appointments during my first years in the biz, but I never felt comfortable with handling the cards. Too nervous, I suppose. I always forgot to glance casually at the ones that I didn't drop while shuffling. And God forbid the editor ask me something that wasn't on the cards.
Have you guys any special methods or memory boosters that help you with verbal pitches and/or written proposals? Let us know in comments.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Stuff Happens
While transferring hard copy files from the dinky cabinet to the new, shiny monster occupying the corner of my office, I came across a draft pitch sheet with some old novel ideas, like this one:
Hell on Wheels
Paraplegic Mike Anderson becomes stranded during a vacation rafting expedition for the handicapped on the American River. His only help is a newly-blind woman, former neurosurgeon Rebecca Stark. [Stuff happens, they survive.] Back in Florida Keys, Mike helps Becca accept the disability that ended her career, while she secretly arranges for an operation that may restore the use of Mike's legs [twist: Becca's eyesight is restored, Mike remains in the chair.] ECD: mid-2002
In those days I always took a pitch sheet with me to any publisher event (something I made a habit of after being cornered by Gina Centrello at a national conference and going completely blank-headed.) At the bottom of this particular sheet I wrote: "Polish, keep in purse." That came in handy later, when my editor took me out to dinner and asked me what else I was thinking about writing next. I made her laugh when I took the polished version out of my purse and simply handed it to her.
Hell on Wheels was my favorite of the eight premises I pitched to her that night. I had wanted to do a book featuring Mike Anderson, a wheelchair-bound secondary character from my first romance, Paradise Island. I was advised by a RWA friend that the idea it would not fly because both of the main characters were not beautiful, perfect, abled people. I figured that was its strong point.
But my friend was right -- my editor didn't like handicapped heroes or heroines, or the idea that the ending was (in her view) less than happy for one of them. She nixed all seven of the other premises, too. Some were better (as in more mainstream, less risky) than Mike's story, so it puzzled me.
I found out why when the editor told me the publisher only wanted me to continue the storyline from the trilogy I'd just wrapped up that June. Wrapped up as in finished, done, over, no more stories. Being the cooperative soul that I am, I went home, filed away all my new ideas in my unwritten archives and wrote up what they wanted. Those books became the Jessica Hall novels, which made my publisher happy and added greatly to the savings account.
Stuff happens. You adapt, you compromise, you keep working. Or you don't. Those are the choices we sometimes have to make between creating art and making a living.
What's in your unwritten archives?
Hell on Wheels
Paraplegic Mike Anderson becomes stranded during a vacation rafting expedition for the handicapped on the American River. His only help is a newly-blind woman, former neurosurgeon Rebecca Stark. [Stuff happens, they survive.] Back in Florida Keys, Mike helps Becca accept the disability that ended her career, while she secretly arranges for an operation that may restore the use of Mike's legs [twist: Becca's eyesight is restored, Mike remains in the chair.] ECD: mid-2002
In those days I always took a pitch sheet with me to any publisher event (something I made a habit of after being cornered by Gina Centrello at a national conference and going completely blank-headed.) At the bottom of this particular sheet I wrote: "Polish, keep in purse." That came in handy later, when my editor took me out to dinner and asked me what else I was thinking about writing next. I made her laugh when I took the polished version out of my purse and simply handed it to her.
Hell on Wheels was my favorite of the eight premises I pitched to her that night. I had wanted to do a book featuring Mike Anderson, a wheelchair-bound secondary character from my first romance, Paradise Island. I was advised by a RWA friend that the idea it would not fly because both of the main characters were not beautiful, perfect, abled people. I figured that was its strong point.
But my friend was right -- my editor didn't like handicapped heroes or heroines, or the idea that the ending was (in her view) less than happy for one of them. She nixed all seven of the other premises, too. Some were better (as in more mainstream, less risky) than Mike's story, so it puzzled me.
I found out why when the editor told me the publisher only wanted me to continue the storyline from the trilogy I'd just wrapped up that June. Wrapped up as in finished, done, over, no more stories. Being the cooperative soul that I am, I went home, filed away all my new ideas in my unwritten archives and wrote up what they wanted. Those books became the Jessica Hall novels, which made my publisher happy and added greatly to the savings account.
Stuff happens. You adapt, you compromise, you keep working. Or you don't. Those are the choices we sometimes have to make between creating art and making a living.
What's in your unwritten archives?
Thursday, November 09, 2006
On Paper
Yesterday Noël posted this in comments, and made me laugh:
I'd love to see an article on how cranky, misanthropic introverts should handle learning to sell their work.
If that isn't the story of my professional career . . .
Here's the main thing: when I was a cranky, authority-hating teen who pretty much pissed off everyone including my schoolteachers -- publishing parodies of them in the underground school newspaper probably didn't help -- I learned a valuable trick. In person I was a disaster, and often landed in detention thanks to my lack of interpersonal skills. On paper, however, I could be anyone I wanted to be. I only had to invent a persona to do the talking for me.
This is not to say you have to lie about who you are, what you write and how you'd like to get it published. The content stays the same. It's all in how you deliver it.
Let's say I have a short story that I want John Smith at Fiction Magazine to consider for publication. I'm in a bad mood tonight, so I'm naturally inclined to write the sub like this:
Dear Mr. Smith,
Enclosed is my short story, Cranky and Introverted, for your consideration. It's the story of an author struggling so much to fit in with the publishing herd that she kidnaps an etiquette teacher. I'd appreciate a response within the sixty days as per your guidelines as I have other editors I'd like to query. Let me know if you have any questions.
Sincerely,
PBW
No matter how well the story is written, this query letter will likely get it rejected. John Smith is going to interpret the tone of this letter, and the tone shrieks I've got a chip on my shoulder, this industry sucks, you've got sixty days and hey, don't waste my time. Why would he interpret it that way? Maybe John Smith's had a bad day, too. Maybe he expects the deference, or just doesn't want to deal with someone who would write a letter like this.
Now, the same letter, but with one of my personas writing it:
Dear Mr. Smith,
Enclosed please find my short story, Cranky and Introverted, for your consideration. It tells the tale of a writer in desperate need of professional polish, and the etiquette coach she kidnaps to help her shine. Thanks for this opportunity, and I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
PBW
The letter sounds a bit more friendly and inviting now, right? That's because the persona writing it was Friendly and Inviting PBW, who likes editors and wants them to like her and hire her and send her lovely big checks, not the evil Screw the Industry and You Too Pal PBW, who is presently popping ibuprofen for the tension headache that appears to be drilling into the gray matter behind her right eye.
The only technical difference between the two letters is that in the first I hit him with a reminder of the sixty day turnaround and in the second I didn't. I try never to give an editor a deadline; it's presumptuous and always sounds a little obnoxious.
If you're not comfortable with creating and using a persona on paper, then I'd recommend simply being as polite and professional as possible. An editor or agent will likely respond more often to a serious, courteous pitch than one that burns off their nose hairs.
There is more to cover on this topic (like what to do when you have to actually meet John Smith in person) but as most of the job is on paper, this is about 95% of the battle.
I'd love to see an article on how cranky, misanthropic introverts should handle learning to sell their work.
If that isn't the story of my professional career . . .
Here's the main thing: when I was a cranky, authority-hating teen who pretty much pissed off everyone including my schoolteachers -- publishing parodies of them in the underground school newspaper probably didn't help -- I learned a valuable trick. In person I was a disaster, and often landed in detention thanks to my lack of interpersonal skills. On paper, however, I could be anyone I wanted to be. I only had to invent a persona to do the talking for me.
This is not to say you have to lie about who you are, what you write and how you'd like to get it published. The content stays the same. It's all in how you deliver it.
Let's say I have a short story that I want John Smith at Fiction Magazine to consider for publication. I'm in a bad mood tonight, so I'm naturally inclined to write the sub like this:
Dear Mr. Smith,
Enclosed is my short story, Cranky and Introverted, for your consideration. It's the story of an author struggling so much to fit in with the publishing herd that she kidnaps an etiquette teacher. I'd appreciate a response within the sixty days as per your guidelines as I have other editors I'd like to query. Let me know if you have any questions.
Sincerely,
PBW
No matter how well the story is written, this query letter will likely get it rejected. John Smith is going to interpret the tone of this letter, and the tone shrieks I've got a chip on my shoulder, this industry sucks, you've got sixty days and hey, don't waste my time. Why would he interpret it that way? Maybe John Smith's had a bad day, too. Maybe he expects the deference, or just doesn't want to deal with someone who would write a letter like this.
Now, the same letter, but with one of my personas writing it:
Dear Mr. Smith,
Enclosed please find my short story, Cranky and Introverted, for your consideration. It tells the tale of a writer in desperate need of professional polish, and the etiquette coach she kidnaps to help her shine. Thanks for this opportunity, and I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
PBW
The letter sounds a bit more friendly and inviting now, right? That's because the persona writing it was Friendly and Inviting PBW, who likes editors and wants them to like her and hire her and send her lovely big checks, not the evil Screw the Industry and You Too Pal PBW, who is presently popping ibuprofen for the tension headache that appears to be drilling into the gray matter behind her right eye.
The only technical difference between the two letters is that in the first I hit him with a reminder of the sixty day turnaround and in the second I didn't. I try never to give an editor a deadline; it's presumptuous and always sounds a little obnoxious.
If you're not comfortable with creating and using a persona on paper, then I'd recommend simply being as polite and professional as possible. An editor or agent will likely respond more often to a serious, courteous pitch than one that burns off their nose hairs.
There is more to cover on this topic (like what to do when you have to actually meet John Smith in person) but as most of the job is on paper, this is about 95% of the battle.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Proposition Ten
Ten Things About Novel Proposals, Queries and Synopses
Freeware caution: always scan free downloads of anything for bugs and other threats before dumping the programs into your hard drive.
1. CVitae freeware is mainly for resume writing and submission, but it has a cover letter section that might be helpful when you're putting together simultaneous submissions, or prefer to use/store the same query letter for your proposal. For a freeware program just for letter writing, check out The Form Letter Machine.
2. Shery Ma Belle Arrieta over at AbsoluteWrite.com offers Don't Fall Into The Query Letter Quandary!, an interview with John Wood, author of How to Write Attention-Grabbing Query & Cover Letters.
3. Absolute Write.com's Kelly James-Enger's article, Make the Perfect Pitch: The Novel Query.
4. Joe Nassise's post on Storytellers Unplugged, Novel Proposals.
5. Phrase Express is a clipboard utility freeware that allows you to organize, store and cut-n-paste frequently used text (like headers, openers, paragraphs and sig blocks from your query letter) into any application.
6. Beth Amos' article Query and Synopsis.
7. Fiction Connections' article on the do's and don'ts of Query Letters.
8. Terry Irene Blain's online free course, Basics of Writing the Romance Novel, includes lessons on the synopsis, query and proposal.
9. Jessica Page Morrell's article Tips on Writing a Synopsis.
10. Priscilla Y. Huff's article, What Publishers Want to See Most in a Book Proposal.
Also, Preditor and Editors has a sample novel query letter here that is nice and short (my favorite kind of query) and includes comments from Kerry Hanslits on why it's an effective letter.
Freeware caution: always scan free downloads of anything for bugs and other threats before dumping the programs into your hard drive.
1. CVitae freeware is mainly for resume writing and submission, but it has a cover letter section that might be helpful when you're putting together simultaneous submissions, or prefer to use/store the same query letter for your proposal. For a freeware program just for letter writing, check out The Form Letter Machine.
2. Shery Ma Belle Arrieta over at AbsoluteWrite.com offers Don't Fall Into The Query Letter Quandary!, an interview with John Wood, author of How to Write Attention-Grabbing Query & Cover Letters.
3. Absolute Write.com's Kelly James-Enger's article, Make the Perfect Pitch: The Novel Query.
4. Joe Nassise's post on Storytellers Unplugged, Novel Proposals.
5. Phrase Express is a clipboard utility freeware that allows you to organize, store and cut-n-paste frequently used text (like headers, openers, paragraphs and sig blocks from your query letter) into any application.
6. Beth Amos' article Query and Synopsis.
7. Fiction Connections' article on the do's and don'ts of Query Letters.
8. Terry Irene Blain's online free course, Basics of Writing the Romance Novel, includes lessons on the synopsis, query and proposal.
9. Jessica Page Morrell's article Tips on Writing a Synopsis.
10. Priscilla Y. Huff's article, What Publishers Want to See Most in a Book Proposal.
Also, Preditor and Editors has a sample novel query letter here that is nice and short (my favorite kind of query) and includes comments from Kerry Hanslits on why it's an effective letter.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Query Nation
The perfect query letter -- is it a myth or reality? Hard to say. It's like manuscripts; I've known writers who spend years going to query workshops and buying query how-to books and perfecting their queries with no luck, and others who land an agent and a contract with the first query letter they write. I've had a mixed bag of results with mine; ten years of novel query letters did zip for me; the very first non-fiction query letter I wrote landed my first nonfic sale:
February 1, 1999
Writer's Digest
1507 Dana Avenue
Cincinnati, OH 45207
Re: Submission for Chronicle Article
Dear Ms. Smith:
What could go wrong when an interested editor calls and asks you to send a manuscript overnight? Everything!
I've enclosed my article, "Nothing can Possibly Go Wrong Now" for your consideration. It is 770 words in length, and takes a humorous look at what happens when a writer isn't prepared for that particular phone call.
If you have any questions, please contact me at (123)456-7890 or at the e-mail address above. Thanks for reading this and I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
S.L. Viehl
(BTW, you can read the article I sold with this query in the Aug '99 issue of Writer's Digest.)
It's always interesting to see how other writers compose query letters. I try to work a little humor into mine. Nicholas Sparks writes an extremely earnest, wordy query letter; I got a terrible urge to edit it while I was reading it. Lynn Flewelling goes more for neat and friendly. Personally I like Carolyn Jewel's query examples, which may be a bit too storytellerish for some but gave me a nice sample of her voice without making me think she was twelve.
I feel really terse compared to these folks, but short works better for me. How about you guys? Do you shoot for detailed query letters, brief/concise, or something else?
Related links:
Agent Query.com's How to Write a Query.
February 1, 1999
Writer's Digest
1507 Dana Avenue
Cincinnati, OH 45207
Re: Submission for Chronicle Article
Dear Ms. Smith:
What could go wrong when an interested editor calls and asks you to send a manuscript overnight? Everything!
I've enclosed my article, "Nothing can Possibly Go Wrong Now" for your consideration. It is 770 words in length, and takes a humorous look at what happens when a writer isn't prepared for that particular phone call.
If you have any questions, please contact me at (123)456-7890 or at the e-mail address above. Thanks for reading this and I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
S.L. Viehl
(BTW, you can read the article I sold with this query in the Aug '99 issue of Writer's Digest.)
It's always interesting to see how other writers compose query letters. I try to work a little humor into mine. Nicholas Sparks writes an extremely earnest, wordy query letter; I got a terrible urge to edit it while I was reading it. Lynn Flewelling goes more for neat and friendly. Personally I like Carolyn Jewel's query examples, which may be a bit too storytellerish for some but gave me a nice sample of her voice without making me think she was twelve.
I feel really terse compared to these folks, but short works better for me. How about you guys? Do you shoot for detailed query letters, brief/concise, or something else?
Related links:
Agent Query.com's How to Write a Query.
Friday, January 27, 2006
Brief Me
Brevity appeals to me. I fell in love with brevity code in the military. One-liners are my favorite type of joke. When I see a one-word title on a cover, I'm instantly drawn to the book. Ogden Nash is one of my personal heroes.
Storytellers are spinners, not tailors. It's difficult for us to be brief when we have so much story in our heads. Even on the internet, the kingdom of acronymous, we're often too wordy (and I am as guilty of this as any writer, especially when I feel passionately about something like, hey, brevity.)
Today while I was talking with a sales rep from a completely different industry, she related this observation: people remember advertising with images and single words and phrases more so than ads with blocks of text -- even if they're a captive audience and have nothing to do but look at the ad.
Makes sense to me. Attention spans are short these days. Both men and women are busier; we work long hours, have more responsibilities, and we're tired. Time is a precious commodity we don't want to waste.
Now and then I challenge writers to trim their pitches. I see it as a necessary skill, and you never know when you may need a quick pitch. Brevity with impact is even more important, because if you don't have significant wattage, you're not going to dazzle the editor.
Consider trimming down when you work on the following:
1. Title: Your title, like cover art, is a selling point. It doesn't have to be one word, but it should convey your story's power. Change titles as often as you like until you find one that works (I often wonder how well StarDoc would have done if I had stuck with its original title, Border FreeClinic.)
2. Query letter: My advice is keep it to three paragraphs and no more than one page. The shorter it is, the more likely the editor will read the entire letter.
3. Synopsis: Get out of the storyteller's mindset and into a more journalistic approach. Resist the urge to persuade or impress the editor, and discard the lyrical in favor of the concise and powerful. Don't worry; you'll have plenty of room to be pretty in the novel.
4. First three chapters: These make or break your pitch. If your first three chapters are a set-up, travelogue, droning narrative or some other form of writer security blanket, delete them and start your novel with chapters four, five and six.
More info:
Strunk's Elements of Composition; scroll down to #13. Omit needless words.
In Writer Trick #7 from the old weblog I showed how to condense the passage of time in a scene.
Columbia University's Writing Summaries.
Jonathan Treisman's Writing Loglines that Sell is geared toward screenwriters but will work for novelists, too.
The University of Pittsburgh's How to Summarize.
Storytellers are spinners, not tailors. It's difficult for us to be brief when we have so much story in our heads. Even on the internet, the kingdom of acronymous, we're often too wordy (and I am as guilty of this as any writer, especially when I feel passionately about something like, hey, brevity.)
Today while I was talking with a sales rep from a completely different industry, she related this observation: people remember advertising with images and single words and phrases more so than ads with blocks of text -- even if they're a captive audience and have nothing to do but look at the ad.
Makes sense to me. Attention spans are short these days. Both men and women are busier; we work long hours, have more responsibilities, and we're tired. Time is a precious commodity we don't want to waste.
Now and then I challenge writers to trim their pitches. I see it as a necessary skill, and you never know when you may need a quick pitch. Brevity with impact is even more important, because if you don't have significant wattage, you're not going to dazzle the editor.
Consider trimming down when you work on the following:
1. Title: Your title, like cover art, is a selling point. It doesn't have to be one word, but it should convey your story's power. Change titles as often as you like until you find one that works (I often wonder how well StarDoc would have done if I had stuck with its original title, Border FreeClinic.)
2. Query letter: My advice is keep it to three paragraphs and no more than one page. The shorter it is, the more likely the editor will read the entire letter.
3. Synopsis: Get out of the storyteller's mindset and into a more journalistic approach. Resist the urge to persuade or impress the editor, and discard the lyrical in favor of the concise and powerful. Don't worry; you'll have plenty of room to be pretty in the novel.
4. First three chapters: These make or break your pitch. If your first three chapters are a set-up, travelogue, droning narrative or some other form of writer security blanket, delete them and start your novel with chapters four, five and six.
More info:
Strunk's Elements of Composition; scroll down to #13. Omit needless words.
In Writer Trick #7 from the old weblog I showed how to condense the passage of time in a scene.
Columbia University's Writing Summaries.
Jonathan Treisman's Writing Loglines that Sell is geared toward screenwriters but will work for novelists, too.
The University of Pittsburgh's How to Summarize.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Little More Richard
Just when a girl thinks Richard Chizmar is out of her novel listings, they pull him back in.
Maybe I should snitch Joe Konrath's idea and pitch the guy. I mean, imagine the great cover letter:
Dear Richard,
As you are already editing one of my novels in name only, perhaps you might consider reviewing my latest horror short story, Chizmarred. It's the tale of a multi-genre writer who no matter what she does cannot escape a nameless, determined force that is slyly altering her work. Will our heroine discover how to destroy the Byline Demon before it drives her mad and erases her identity from publishing altogether?
I would appreciate the chance to send the story along for your review. An acceptance would be wonderful, of course, plus it might also hold off the IRS from auditing you for unreported editing income. We all win!
Best,
PBW
Maybe I should snitch Joe Konrath's idea and pitch the guy. I mean, imagine the great cover letter:
Dear Richard,
As you are already editing one of my novels in name only, perhaps you might consider reviewing my latest horror short story, Chizmarred. It's the tale of a multi-genre writer who no matter what she does cannot escape a nameless, determined force that is slyly altering her work. Will our heroine discover how to destroy the Byline Demon before it drives her mad and erases her identity from publishing altogether?
I would appreciate the chance to send the story along for your review. An acceptance would be wonderful, of course, plus it might also hold off the IRS from auditing you for unreported editing income. We all win!
Best,
PBW
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Navigation
This week I'm sorting out what proposals I want to send my agent, considering whether I want to take a shot at two more new genres, mulling over some interesting writer-for-hire work, and figuring how many books I'd like to sell and which editors I'd like to pitch the new stuff to. End of the year cleanup work, for the most part, but also to nail down what I'll be writing in late 2006-early 2007.
The biggest problem is that I have four novel series at present rolling along and making money (not that this is me complaining about that, you understand.) Writing four genre series at once = writing at least four novels a year. Darkyn is two novels a year, and I've already sold book four and five for 2006. StarDoc the series starts up again next month with book six and a lot of people have been waiting a long time for this one, so I don't know what will happen with that. Book seven has been delivered, so now I have to decide what's next with Cherijo and company.
Two of the new proposals I have are also series novels, but I think I'm maxed out on the number of series I can comfortable write simultaneously at the moment. Something has to go. Another pitch is a big historical standalone with a potential sequel if it does well, but no more than two books in that one. Then there are the standalones: one has generated interest from three publishers and I know I can sell it to at least two of them; one I love and would love to write, and the last is what I consider the best new stuff I've cooked up since I pitched Darkyn. Throw into the mix two personal marketing/moonlighting projects and you get an idea of what a juggling act this career is.
The market is always changing its demands, so that's a consideration too. So is competition. There are some immensely talented people putting out wonderful books, and more great new writers getting into print every day. If you think you can sit, be complacent and rest on your backlist, they will knock you right off the shelf. You are only as good as your last gig.
I'll probably brood a bit more about this, but I'm leaning toward sticking the new series pitches on the back burner and going for a couple of standalones first, see how they do.
Anyone else mapping out a career/book/sales plan for 2006?
The biggest problem is that I have four novel series at present rolling along and making money (not that this is me complaining about that, you understand.) Writing four genre series at once = writing at least four novels a year. Darkyn is two novels a year, and I've already sold book four and five for 2006. StarDoc the series starts up again next month with book six and a lot of people have been waiting a long time for this one, so I don't know what will happen with that. Book seven has been delivered, so now I have to decide what's next with Cherijo and company.
Two of the new proposals I have are also series novels, but I think I'm maxed out on the number of series I can comfortable write simultaneously at the moment. Something has to go. Another pitch is a big historical standalone with a potential sequel if it does well, but no more than two books in that one. Then there are the standalones: one has generated interest from three publishers and I know I can sell it to at least two of them; one I love and would love to write, and the last is what I consider the best new stuff I've cooked up since I pitched Darkyn. Throw into the mix two personal marketing/moonlighting projects and you get an idea of what a juggling act this career is.
The market is always changing its demands, so that's a consideration too. So is competition. There are some immensely talented people putting out wonderful books, and more great new writers getting into print every day. If you think you can sit, be complacent and rest on your backlist, they will knock you right off the shelf. You are only as good as your last gig.
I'll probably brood a bit more about this, but I'm leaning toward sticking the new series pitches on the back burner and going for a couple of standalones first, see how they do.
Anyone else mapping out a career/book/sales plan for 2006?
Friday, June 10, 2005
Rejects
Got out one of my boxes of rejection letters tonight to make an ego adjustment (whenever you start to feel it swell, it's good to insert a drain.) This is one I haven't gone through in years; all bounces from serious poetry publications back in the 80's, when I was going to be the next Sylvia Plath.
I can't imagine why none of them wanted to buy Raw Silk, the 4,000 line epic I wrote when I was 22. I mean, it rhymed and everything.
In this painfully polite pile -- poetry editors tend to be much nicer than their fiction counterparts -- I found sort of a rejection letter from Dominick Abel Literary Agency, dated September '83. Evidently I had written to them looking for representation for my monstrosity.
I guess the agency didn't want to waste their letterhead, as they sent back my original query to them with simply Not for us, thank you. DA scrawled at the top of my letter.
It burned twenty-two years ago, but now reading the query I'd say it was a good call; my pitch sucked. Hopefully Mr. Abel has moved up from using purple felt-tip pens and recycling queries.
Deeper down in the box was an ancient file I'd packed in with the poetry stuff because it was so fragile. In it was a copy of my first and only gothic romance, Sea Hold, typed on my trusty old Royal, and this letter:
9/14/76
Dear Miss Kelly:
We would be happy to look at your gothic romance if it is at least 400 manuscript pages long.
Sincerely,
Nancy Coffey
Executive Editor
Avon Books
Avon had already rejected my first historical romance back in 1974, but this note gave me a lot of hope. It was personally signed. It was an invitation to try again. It made me feel like a pro. When you're 15 years old and still horribly bruised from your first bounce, that means the world.
I'm wondering if this editor is the same Nancy Coffey who's now a literary agent. If she is, I need to write a letter to her.
I've sworn someday to burn all this junk, but the older I get, the more sentimental I feel about it. This is my history as a writer. I remember how excited I was about the Nancy Coffey letter (Mom ran off copies at work and mailed them to every member of the family.) I didn't cry over the Abel letter, but the burn of that indifferent scrawl made me more determined to get into print. I never let anyone but the slushpile reader at Avon Books look at the manuscript for Sea Hold.
What of your history as a writer do you hold onto, and why?
I can't imagine why none of them wanted to buy Raw Silk, the 4,000 line epic I wrote when I was 22. I mean, it rhymed and everything.
In this painfully polite pile -- poetry editors tend to be much nicer than their fiction counterparts -- I found sort of a rejection letter from Dominick Abel Literary Agency, dated September '83. Evidently I had written to them looking for representation for my monstrosity.
I guess the agency didn't want to waste their letterhead, as they sent back my original query to them with simply Not for us, thank you. DA scrawled at the top of my letter.
It burned twenty-two years ago, but now reading the query I'd say it was a good call; my pitch sucked. Hopefully Mr. Abel has moved up from using purple felt-tip pens and recycling queries.
Deeper down in the box was an ancient file I'd packed in with the poetry stuff because it was so fragile. In it was a copy of my first and only gothic romance, Sea Hold, typed on my trusty old Royal, and this letter:
9/14/76
Dear Miss Kelly:
We would be happy to look at your gothic romance if it is at least 400 manuscript pages long.
Sincerely,
Nancy Coffey
Executive Editor
Avon Books
Avon had already rejected my first historical romance back in 1974, but this note gave me a lot of hope. It was personally signed. It was an invitation to try again. It made me feel like a pro. When you're 15 years old and still horribly bruised from your first bounce, that means the world.
I'm wondering if this editor is the same Nancy Coffey who's now a literary agent. If she is, I need to write a letter to her.
I've sworn someday to burn all this junk, but the older I get, the more sentimental I feel about it. This is my history as a writer. I remember how excited I was about the Nancy Coffey letter (Mom ran off copies at work and mailed them to every member of the family.) I didn't cry over the Abel letter, but the burn of that indifferent scrawl made me more determined to get into print. I never let anyone but the slushpile reader at Avon Books look at the manuscript for Sea Hold.
What of your history as a writer do you hold onto, and why?
Monday, March 14, 2005
Show Me Ten
I learned how to write books via the Library Card method: I went to the library, selected twenty or thirty novels at random, took them home and read them. Still do. I don't know how many books I've read so far, but figure one trip per week X thirty years = 31,200 - 46,800 novels read.
Learning by example allows you to choose what works for you and discard what doesn't, something you can't do with more traditional educational methods. It also requires you to hunt down the examples and analyze them, but most writers are intensely interested in every aspect of the craft, so not like it's a hardship.
Ten Things for Learn-By-Example Writers
1. Meredith Bond's How to Write a Character-Based Synopsis -- Meredith breaks down her own synopsis in the article.
2. Kathy Carmichael's Articles page -- Kathy's Synopsis workshop has examples from her work and others; also the very first pitch generator I've ever seen anywhere.
3. Charlotte Dillon's Resources for Romance Writers -- Charlotte has samples of her work all over the place here.
4. Lisa Gardner's Conquering the Dreaded Synopsis
5. Lee Goldberg's Sample Scripts -- Lee shows you actual scripts he's written for the screen
6. Kristi Holl's Mystery Writing Lessons
7. Alex Keegan's Writing a Query Letter that Sells
8. Chapter 1 of Nancy Kress's Dynamic Characters
9. Holly Lisle's site has tons of examples to follow, but my personal favorite is Revising Vincalis.
10. PBW -- Practicing what I preach, today I uploaded three synopses of books I have in print (note: These were the initial pitches that sold, so the final products are all a little different.) Click here for an inspirational fiction synopsis, here for a romantic suspense synopsis, and here for a SF synopsis.
Learning by example allows you to choose what works for you and discard what doesn't, something you can't do with more traditional educational methods. It also requires you to hunt down the examples and analyze them, but most writers are intensely interested in every aspect of the craft, so not like it's a hardship.
Ten Things for Learn-By-Example Writers
1. Meredith Bond's How to Write a Character-Based Synopsis -- Meredith breaks down her own synopsis in the article.
2. Kathy Carmichael's Articles page -- Kathy's Synopsis workshop has examples from her work and others; also the very first pitch generator I've ever seen anywhere.
3. Charlotte Dillon's Resources for Romance Writers -- Charlotte has samples of her work all over the place here.
4. Lisa Gardner's Conquering the Dreaded Synopsis
5. Lee Goldberg's Sample Scripts -- Lee shows you actual scripts he's written for the screen
6. Kristi Holl's Mystery Writing Lessons
7. Alex Keegan's Writing a Query Letter that Sells
8. Chapter 1 of Nancy Kress's Dynamic Characters
9. Holly Lisle's site has tons of examples to follow, but my personal favorite is Revising Vincalis.
10. PBW -- Practicing what I preach, today I uploaded three synopses of books I have in print (note: These were the initial pitches that sold, so the final products are all a little different.) Click here for an inspirational fiction synopsis, here for a romantic suspense synopsis, and here for a SF synopsis.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Novel IV: Pitch
When you write a novel for publication, you're creating a product (not you, the novel.) To successfully sell that product, you need a major book publisher to manufacture and distribute your book. To interest a publisher in buying the rights to do so, you must submit a novel proposal, aka the pitch.
Very little practical information is written about how to pitch a novel by those who actually do it for a living. I know, I've looked. Those authors who are good at it evidently hoard their techniques, kind of like that stressed-out leprechaun in the Lucky Charms commercials: Can't let the kids get me magical marshmallows.
Those who aren't adept at pitching like to whine endlessly about it. "I'm an artist," a SF writer told to me once, "not a salesman." Makes sense, of course. Why should you learn how to effectively do something as common and grubby as selling the novel you, uh, want to sell?
Anyway. Until the heavens simply open up and bathe novelists in Divine Publication Light, or editors and publishers develop much better psychic powers, writers must pitch their novels.
It's not all that much different from baseball. Well, you don't have to chew tobacco or wear that black stuff under your eyes. But the theory is the same: Pitching is only as effective as your throw and who's at bat. You can blindly toss whatever you have out there and hope for the best. Or you can assess the market, choose very carefully to whom you pitch, and get it in shape to make it across the plate.
Here are my magical marshmallows (sorry, no curve balls):
1. Know Thy Novel: Before I pitch anything, I make sure I know it inside and out. I nail down all the vital details about genre, characters, plot, theme, setting and the story structure. I write a timeline chronicles the novel's events. I create keyword lists to organize my knowledge and make a foundation for the pitch. I trim away the unnecessary schlock and concentrate on concept words that relay story specifics. Compare these keyword lists:
rich, blond, smart, scarred, scared, lonely woman
Doesn't tell you much about how or why she's scarred, scared, lonely, etc., right? Now try:
former Creole socialite, recovering burn victim, agoraphobic
Same woman, only now you know a lot more about her.
2. Rough it Out: Using my keyword lists, I write a rough draft synopsis (ten to twenty pages, depending on genre), a one-page treatment (like a synopsis, only much shorter and more condensed) and my phone notes. Phone notes are shorthand for the key elements of a novel that I want to relay to my editor or agent, so they can get the gist of the novel in under a minute.
This is not all non-stop keywords or a place for voice, either; I write plainly and keep out as much of my personal writing style as is possible. The three big to-do's of writing a synopsis to me are: a) Do write it in present tense; b) Do give away all of the secrets and plot twists; and c) Do keep it as simple as possible -- just the facts, no frills.
3. Chapters: I write three chapters of the novel. If you can't spontaneously write three chapters of any novel you want to pitch, go back to step #1 and do it over until you're able to sit down and write the chapters. You have to know your book before you can write your book, and they're going to want to see a sample.
4. Break: I put it all aside for at least 24 hours if I can, or 4 hours if I can't, to get a break. I don't obsess, worry, hate, or otherwise think about the pitch.
5. Buff & Polish:I go back fresh and analyze the pitch. Have I covered all the bases? Does the idea sound exciting, interesting, attention-catching? Is the presentation professional, no errors, no logic problems, no clumsiness or stumbling in the synopsis? Are the first three chapters tight? Anything I missed?
6. Bounce it: This is an optional step. If I have any doubts, I call my agent and pitch her using my phone notes. If she throws up a red light, we discuss and I either discard the idea or fix it. You can do this with a writer friend or critique partner.
7. Mail it: If the agent gives me a green light, I print out the proposal and send it off (if you're subbing to a publisher, follow their guidelines to the letter.) I don't use anything special, just plain white paper, Courier New 12 pt. font, half-page cover letter, plain colored file folder.
As in baseball, you only get better at pitching if you practice. Sometimes I've written practice pitches on books I had no intention of writing just to refine my pitching ability. I do know that the more you write, the easier it gets. Keep at it.
Some tools and articles on pitching by authors who are good and don't hoard:
Timeline Maker -- I haven't tried downloading the demo, but this might help organize your novel timeline
Synopsis examples by Deborah M. Hale
Finding Your Themes by Holly Lisle
Make the Perfect Pitch: The Novel Query by Kelly James-Enger
Proper Manuscript Format
Making Your Proposal Persuasive by Cindy Bunch
How to Pitch Tipsheets from Mediabistro.com
Very little practical information is written about how to pitch a novel by those who actually do it for a living. I know, I've looked. Those authors who are good at it evidently hoard their techniques, kind of like that stressed-out leprechaun in the Lucky Charms commercials: Can't let the kids get me magical marshmallows.
Those who aren't adept at pitching like to whine endlessly about it. "I'm an artist," a SF writer told to me once, "not a salesman." Makes sense, of course. Why should you learn how to effectively do something as common and grubby as selling the novel you, uh, want to sell?
Anyway. Until the heavens simply open up and bathe novelists in Divine Publication Light, or editors and publishers develop much better psychic powers, writers must pitch their novels.
It's not all that much different from baseball. Well, you don't have to chew tobacco or wear that black stuff under your eyes. But the theory is the same: Pitching is only as effective as your throw and who's at bat. You can blindly toss whatever you have out there and hope for the best. Or you can assess the market, choose very carefully to whom you pitch, and get it in shape to make it across the plate.
Here are my magical marshmallows (sorry, no curve balls):
1. Know Thy Novel: Before I pitch anything, I make sure I know it inside and out. I nail down all the vital details about genre, characters, plot, theme, setting and the story structure. I write a timeline chronicles the novel's events. I create keyword lists to organize my knowledge and make a foundation for the pitch. I trim away the unnecessary schlock and concentrate on concept words that relay story specifics. Compare these keyword lists:
rich, blond, smart, scarred, scared, lonely woman
Doesn't tell you much about how or why she's scarred, scared, lonely, etc., right? Now try:
former Creole socialite, recovering burn victim, agoraphobic
Same woman, only now you know a lot more about her.
2. Rough it Out: Using my keyword lists, I write a rough draft synopsis (ten to twenty pages, depending on genre), a one-page treatment (like a synopsis, only much shorter and more condensed) and my phone notes. Phone notes are shorthand for the key elements of a novel that I want to relay to my editor or agent, so they can get the gist of the novel in under a minute.
This is not all non-stop keywords or a place for voice, either; I write plainly and keep out as much of my personal writing style as is possible. The three big to-do's of writing a synopsis to me are: a) Do write it in present tense; b) Do give away all of the secrets and plot twists; and c) Do keep it as simple as possible -- just the facts, no frills.
3. Chapters: I write three chapters of the novel. If you can't spontaneously write three chapters of any novel you want to pitch, go back to step #1 and do it over until you're able to sit down and write the chapters. You have to know your book before you can write your book, and they're going to want to see a sample.
4. Break: I put it all aside for at least 24 hours if I can, or 4 hours if I can't, to get a break. I don't obsess, worry, hate, or otherwise think about the pitch.
5. Buff & Polish:I go back fresh and analyze the pitch. Have I covered all the bases? Does the idea sound exciting, interesting, attention-catching? Is the presentation professional, no errors, no logic problems, no clumsiness or stumbling in the synopsis? Are the first three chapters tight? Anything I missed?
6. Bounce it: This is an optional step. If I have any doubts, I call my agent and pitch her using my phone notes. If she throws up a red light, we discuss and I either discard the idea or fix it. You can do this with a writer friend or critique partner.
7. Mail it: If the agent gives me a green light, I print out the proposal and send it off (if you're subbing to a publisher, follow their guidelines to the letter.) I don't use anything special, just plain white paper, Courier New 12 pt. font, half-page cover letter, plain colored file folder.
As in baseball, you only get better at pitching if you practice. Sometimes I've written practice pitches on books I had no intention of writing just to refine my pitching ability. I do know that the more you write, the easier it gets. Keep at it.
Some tools and articles on pitching by authors who are good and don't hoard:
Timeline Maker -- I haven't tried downloading the demo, but this might help organize your novel timeline
Synopsis examples by Deborah M. Hale
Finding Your Themes by Holly Lisle
Make the Perfect Pitch: The Novel Query by Kelly James-Enger
Proper Manuscript Format
Making Your Proposal Persuasive by Cindy Bunch
How to Pitch Tipsheets from Mediabistro.com
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Pitch Tools
To write your novel, you have to know the story. To sell the novel, you must condense that knowledge into a pitch. Novelists are generally not blessed by the Brevity Fairy, which is why book proposals and synopses are so universally despised.
There are techniques that help a writer organize novel info, summarize it and build a decent pitch. Practice using catch phrases, buzz words and other premise-makers to hone your pitching skills. Internet marketing author Joe Bingham has a good article about catch phrases here, and Bombshell author Carol Stephenson has one on romance buzz words here.
These are some writer exercises and examples I've used in classes and workshops to teach the art of less is more:
1. Write a classified ad selling your novel.
Dark hi-speed killride: Nightmares, get real in this standalone urban fantasy novel, 150,000 words, drifter female mechanic/mystic protag, present-day Chicago/otherworld settings, apocalyptic stakes. Seatbelts and safeties have been removed.
2. Make up a motto based on your novel theme.
Life isn't Death's bitch anymore
3. Describe your novel in 15 words or less.
Aggressive aquatic pilot/gunner guarding troubled peace summit must avert diplomatic assassination and interstellar war.
4. Write a personal ad for your hero or heroine.
Not Desperately Seeking Anyone: 35 y.o. swm, 6'5, 230 lbs., Fire Marshall of New Orleans, serious, GQ dresser, sometimes grim, hard worker, temporarily living at home with wealthy parents, tired of beautiful, empty-headed socialites. Chasing an arsonist/mass murderer who has vowed to kill everyone I love, so discretion a must. No cops.
5. Come up with a single hook line that describes the opening of your novel.
All I was trying to do when they caught me was bury my mother in an unmarked grave.
There are techniques that help a writer organize novel info, summarize it and build a decent pitch. Practice using catch phrases, buzz words and other premise-makers to hone your pitching skills. Internet marketing author Joe Bingham has a good article about catch phrases here, and Bombshell author Carol Stephenson has one on romance buzz words here.
These are some writer exercises and examples I've used in classes and workshops to teach the art of less is more:
1. Write a classified ad selling your novel.
Dark hi-speed killride: Nightmares, get real in this standalone urban fantasy novel, 150,000 words, drifter female mechanic/mystic protag, present-day Chicago/otherworld settings, apocalyptic stakes. Seatbelts and safeties have been removed.
2. Make up a motto based on your novel theme.
Life isn't Death's bitch anymore
3. Describe your novel in 15 words or less.
Aggressive aquatic pilot/gunner guarding troubled peace summit must avert diplomatic assassination and interstellar war.
4. Write a personal ad for your hero or heroine.
Not Desperately Seeking Anyone: 35 y.o. swm, 6'5, 230 lbs., Fire Marshall of New Orleans, serious, GQ dresser, sometimes grim, hard worker, temporarily living at home with wealthy parents, tired of beautiful, empty-headed socialites. Chasing an arsonist/mass murderer who has vowed to kill everyone I love, so discretion a must. No cops.
5. Come up with a single hook line that describes the opening of your novel.
All I was trying to do when they caught me was bury my mother in an unmarked grave.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Authority
Many moons ago, I was interested in writing historical novels. When I asked a very qualified authority on the genre about it, and showed some of my prelim historical work, I was told that it was a waste of my time and that I should never try to write historicals.
"It's not your voice," Authority said. "Stick to SF and contemporary fiction."
I figured Authority knew more than me and abandoned the idea of writing historicals.
Last year, I was asked to pitch some historical novels. "It's not my voice" I told my agent, "but I'd like to try pitching anyway. That way, when they do have something that's more suitable for me, they'll ask me again." I had fun putting together the proposal, but I honestly thought the publisher would tell me no thanks.
I sold three novels off the first pitch.
I wrote the first book, still thinking, This is not my voice. Everyone is going to hate it. The manuscript went straight to copy-edit, no revisions requested. The copy-edit was so light the editor and I did it over the phone. My agent and I are now discussing a big single title historical and a series I'd like to pitch. A series I never thought I would write, because I have it on excellent Authority that it's not my voice.
I don't know precisely why Authority told me I couldn't write historicals. I have some ideas, but I don't want to know I'm right about them. I'd rather preserve the last few good thoughts I have about Authority. Authority was also my friend, once upon a time, or I'd like to keep deluding myself that Authority was.
You may do the same thing someday, and your red flags should pop up when an authority says "Never" or "You can't." Unless laws are going to be broken, following that kind of advice is giving someone else blanket permission to censor and control your work. It's like going to the doctor. Get a second and third opinion. Ask questions. Don't blindly follow authority. Challenge it.
"It's not your voice," Authority said. "Stick to SF and contemporary fiction."
I figured Authority knew more than me and abandoned the idea of writing historicals.
Last year, I was asked to pitch some historical novels. "It's not my voice" I told my agent, "but I'd like to try pitching anyway. That way, when they do have something that's more suitable for me, they'll ask me again." I had fun putting together the proposal, but I honestly thought the publisher would tell me no thanks.
I sold three novels off the first pitch.
I wrote the first book, still thinking, This is not my voice. Everyone is going to hate it. The manuscript went straight to copy-edit, no revisions requested. The copy-edit was so light the editor and I did it over the phone. My agent and I are now discussing a big single title historical and a series I'd like to pitch. A series I never thought I would write, because I have it on excellent Authority that it's not my voice.
I don't know precisely why Authority told me I couldn't write historicals. I have some ideas, but I don't want to know I'm right about them. I'd rather preserve the last few good thoughts I have about Authority. Authority was also my friend, once upon a time, or I'd like to keep deluding myself that Authority was.
You may do the same thing someday, and your red flags should pop up when an authority says "Never" or "You can't." Unless laws are going to be broken, following that kind of advice is giving someone else blanket permission to censor and control your work. It's like going to the doctor. Get a second and third opinion. Ask questions. Don't blindly follow authority. Challenge it.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Novel III: Outlining
Outlining is not writing a novel; it's preparation and organization of the elements of a novel. You need not outline to write a novel; plenty of writers don't. If you want to sell your novel, you will need a synopsis to show along with some chapters. Outlining allows you to write an a more effective synopsis.
What follows is how I outline. This may make things easier or jam you up. Use only what works for you.
The two novel elements that go into an outline are characters and plot. Like the nouns and verbs that go into making a sentence, characters and plot are the novel. Setting, motivation, timeline, story styling and whatever else you've got in mind aren't necessary right now; they're the adverbs, adjectives, conjunctions, etc. that you'll use to enhance the nouns and verbs. Put all that stuff to one side of your head; focus only on the group of characters that populate your story and what they do.
Characters: write a list of their names, and leave some line room to write beside each name. For each name, list assets, flaws, and the problems (I use no more than three of each) this character has. If you have trouble deciding, use a character outline sheet to get to know your character before you outline the novel, or read this workshop article Holly wrote on character creation.
My advice about characters: you should always know more about them than the reader will.
Once you've got your cast mapped out, look at them. Remember that interesting people are unique people. Could any of the characters swap places without a hitch? If yes, then you need to rework some of them. Can you see characters who are going to naturally like or dislike each other, no matter what your plans are? Note that; it will have an impact on how they relate to each other during the novel.
Plot: in simple language, write out the main plot of your novel. The way I do it is to list the five main events of the novel down the center of the page, and then on the side list what happens in between those five events. To give you a visual that doesn't involve my lousy handwriting, my plot list looks a bit like this.
If you're not sure how to plot, Holly has a great article on it here. My advice on plotting: have fun with it and you'll make it fun to write.
Once you have all the plot on paper, examine it the same way you did your characters. A very linear plot may make it easier for you to write the story, but the book is probably going to be predictable and dull for the reader. An extremely complicated plot, on the other hand, will make the novel hard for the reader to follow. You want a not-too-straight, not-too-kinky plot. Also, does the story plot serve the characters you've just outlined? If it's all about one of them and the other thirty-five are going to be sitting around and watching the one, then maybe you should rework the plot to better use that lovely cast you've just created.
Once you've nailed the characters and the plot, then you can get into making lists and outlines of the other elements like setting and motivation and what have you. This is story decorating to me and I'm not into it, so I write only what I absolutely need to flesh out the novel, usually in shorthand prompts that remind me of the main points.
When I'm done the outline, I'm ready to pitch.
What follows is how I outline. This may make things easier or jam you up. Use only what works for you.
The two novel elements that go into an outline are characters and plot. Like the nouns and verbs that go into making a sentence, characters and plot are the novel. Setting, motivation, timeline, story styling and whatever else you've got in mind aren't necessary right now; they're the adverbs, adjectives, conjunctions, etc. that you'll use to enhance the nouns and verbs. Put all that stuff to one side of your head; focus only on the group of characters that populate your story and what they do.
Characters: write a list of their names, and leave some line room to write beside each name. For each name, list assets, flaws, and the problems (I use no more than three of each) this character has. If you have trouble deciding, use a character outline sheet to get to know your character before you outline the novel, or read this workshop article Holly wrote on character creation.
My advice about characters: you should always know more about them than the reader will.
Once you've got your cast mapped out, look at them. Remember that interesting people are unique people. Could any of the characters swap places without a hitch? If yes, then you need to rework some of them. Can you see characters who are going to naturally like or dislike each other, no matter what your plans are? Note that; it will have an impact on how they relate to each other during the novel.
Plot: in simple language, write out the main plot of your novel. The way I do it is to list the five main events of the novel down the center of the page, and then on the side list what happens in between those five events. To give you a visual that doesn't involve my lousy handwriting, my plot list looks a bit like this.
If you're not sure how to plot, Holly has a great article on it here. My advice on plotting: have fun with it and you'll make it fun to write.
Once you have all the plot on paper, examine it the same way you did your characters. A very linear plot may make it easier for you to write the story, but the book is probably going to be predictable and dull for the reader. An extremely complicated plot, on the other hand, will make the novel hard for the reader to follow. You want a not-too-straight, not-too-kinky plot. Also, does the story plot serve the characters you've just outlined? If it's all about one of them and the other thirty-five are going to be sitting around and watching the one, then maybe you should rework the plot to better use that lovely cast you've just created.
Once you've nailed the characters and the plot, then you can get into making lists and outlines of the other elements like setting and motivation and what have you. This is story decorating to me and I'm not into it, so I write only what I absolutely need to flesh out the novel, usually in shorthand prompts that remind me of the main points.
When I'm done the outline, I'm ready to pitch.
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