The Doctor Writes To Book Biz Santa

Dear Book Biz Santa:

I don’t get nearly as many letters as you do, but I have to admit that the ones I get trouble me. So do my writer-clients.

It isn’t that writers haven’t been good this year. The ones I hear from, and the ones I see in my practice, are definitely candidates for your “nice” list. They work hard at their writing. They take classes and join critique groups and apply to MFA programs. Although most consider writing what they “really” do, they also slave away at day jobs to pay the bills and support their families.

So what is the problem? They deserve sugarplums and they’ve been getting lumps of coal.

Writer A finished his first novel this year and has spent the past six months trying to find an agent. I have never seen the book and have no idea whether it is any good or not—it’s a science fiction saga with a farfetched but intriguing premise—but he poured himself into the writing and he’s enthusiastic about the finished product. His first several queries garnered rejection letters, which didn’t discourage him. Then he got a nibble. An agent wrote back that he loved the story but the manuscript would need editorial work before he could consider taking Writer A on. The agent recommended an editing service that he said had been useful to several other clients. Writer A signed with the service, paid more money than he could afford, and got back a critique that could have been penned by a fourth grader. You know the end of this story, Santa—the agent and editor were in cahoots, and the agent doesn’t seem to have had any intention of selling Writer A’s book.

Writer B has completed a thoughtful and sensitive “literary” novel. She has a good agent, who loves her book. The editors the agent has submitted it to love it, too, or so they say. She has a drawerful of “rave rejections”—love letters from editors, praising her elegant and evocative prose style, her delicately drawn and haunting characters, and her quirky sense of humor. But, they say, they couldn’t convince the marketing department that the book would sell. It’s too “quiet,” and it’s not clear how it would be categorized or marketed. (My question, Santa, is, if everyone who reads this book loves it, why don’t they believe anyone else would buy it?)

Writer C is established in her genre. She writes snappy, witty mysteries that have never been best-sellers, but have sold well and steadily and earned her a loyal and vocal readership. She is a popular speaker at conferences and is known for her generous support of struggling writers and her accessibility to her fans. This year, her editor, who had been with her from the start, retired. The new editor assigned to her doesn’t like Writer C’s work. She thinks Writer C is dated and over the hill. Nobody pushed Writer C’s most recent book, and it didn’t sell well outside of her loyal reader base. Now, at a time when she assumed she would be reaping the benefits of her years of hard work, her publishing house is considered dropping her.

And, Santa, all of these good people blame themselves.

Writer A feels like a fool for trusting the crooked agent. “I should have checked him out better,” he says. Fair enough. Next time he’ll do more legwork. But if you’re walking down a quiet street at night and get mugged, the person who takes your money is the blameworthy one, not you. Maybe next time you’ll be more careful, but the other guy is still the mugger.

Writer B refers to herself as a “geek.” “It’s like in high school,” she says. “The popular kids are all partying together, and I’m off in a corner by myself.” Yet everyone loves her book, and all agree that it is deeper and better written than much of what you’ll find on the shelves.

Writer C excoriates herself for not changing with the times. She worries that she will never again find a sympathetic editor, and that her books are now doomed to failure. “I should have seen this coming,” she says. “Now I’m the old dog in the cliché. I can’t learn a whole new, hip style of writing at my age. There’s no place for me anymore.” She has never suffered from writer’s block before, but she now finds herself bereft of new ideas. Yet her books are charming, and her fans adore her.

So, Santa, here is what I would like you to bring my clients and correspondents:

Better education for writers about the nature of the publishing business. MJ is doing a great job with this. Editors and Predators is a terrific resource, and so are muckrakers like Ann Crispin and Victoria Strauss, to name just a few. But writers aren’t born knowing who the trustworthy bloggers are. Can’t you find a way to integrate the basics of how to get an agent, how to build a career, and especially how to recognize when you’re being taken for a ride into university writing programs and other resources used by beginning writers?

Related to that, more openness among writers about their negative or discouraging experiences in publishing. Writers bring to the therapy couch an unwarranted sense of shame about their perceived failures, and unrealistic ideas about how well everyone else is doing—how easily others have gotten agents and found publishers, how much money other writers earn, and how smoothly and consistently the words and ideas flow.

Room in the market for appealing books that are not destined to be blockbusters, and willingness among publishers to take these books on.

I know it’s a lot to ask, but that’s why it’s called a “wish list.”

And while you’re at it, Santa, how about universal health coverage, so I can earn a decent living too?

Love always,
Dr.Sue

Comments

[Irene Latham]

Great wish list! Anne Lamott in her book Bird by Bird does make it pretty plain that getting published isn't all it's cracked up to be.

[Dr.Sue]

Thanks, Irene! Lamott's book is another great resource for beginning writers. And thanks, too, for your helpful "Daytips."