People often ask me about the types of submissions I see in my role as Senior Editor at Seal Press. Of the agented manuscripts, a good 70% are memoir; of the unagented submissions, it’s closer to 90%. We’re known for memoir, and we’re a women’s press, but still. Memoir is where it’s at---and where it’s been at for a while. Despite the fact that it’s difficult to get memoir published, the industry still loves a good memoir.
I tried to get some up-to-date stats on memoir, but because I’m late in getting to the newsletter this month (real excuse---I got married earlier this month!), I’m citing some older statistics. This 2008 USA Today article says that 295 memoirs were signed by publishers in 2007 compared with 214 memoirs in 2006. So right off the bat let’s say that today that number is 350. Then there’s the question of how many deals went unreported to Publishers Marketplace. There are many many editors who do not report, or only report some deals. So let’s tack on another 250 (yes, that many) unreported. Add to that number the self-published memoirs, and we’re conservatively looking at about at least 1,000 memoirs a year, though even that number seems small to me given what I see on a day-to-day basis.
So where does that leave you, the aspiring memoirist?
The point of this post is not to discourage you from writing your memoir. It’s to encourage you to consider what an editor is looking for when they read your memoir. Here are several major things I look for in a memoir---after good writing. But you don’t have to be a brilliant or natural writer if you understand and execute the following takeaways:
1. Relatability. Consider some of the top-selling memoirs out there: Dave Eggers’s A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius; Jeannette Walls’s The Glass Castle; Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love. All of these writers came to the table with pretty unique stories. It’s not that most of us can relate, per se, to Eggers’s experience of having had our parents die within five months of one another of unrelated cancers, or Walls’s portrayal of growing up with pretty much insane and neglectful parents; or Gilbert’s capacity to leave everything behind to tour the world in search of herself. And yet these authors wrote in a way that moved their readers. Sometimes a random or strange life story is what moves people to write memoir in the first place, but if you don’t know how to invite the reader into your inner world, to a place where they not only see you but relate to you because of what you’re willing to show them once they get there, then you’re not going to make it past the editor’s desk. Editors are looking for stories that have universal appeal even if the story itself is really out there. They’re looking for writers who know how to make an unusual or heartbreaking or tough situation be something everyone can relate to and understand.
2. Insights. Most writers are insightful or they wouldn’t write in the first place. But do you know when and how to deliver your insights? For that matter, do you consciously do this when you sit down to write? The number one reason I reject memoir is because of the “and then this happened and then this happened and then this happened” mistake of telling rather than showing. This is a classic mark of a novice writer. If you’re writing memoir, you must slow down. You must share your insightfulness and own the fact that you have something to say. (I know it’s scary! Wait till we get to transparency.) But if you sacrifice your insights for the sake of getting all the details of something that happened just right, you’re probably being more self-indulgent than you need to be. The insights are more important because those are the times when you’re reaching out to your reader rather than asking your reader to be with you. It’s a give and take. Don’t forget that we want to be moved.
3. Through-threads. Don’t lose site of what you’re talking about. If you’re writing a continuous narrative, figure out the question you’re trying to answer before you even start writing. What’s the payoff for the reader? If you’re writing a memoir in essays then you do this for each chapter—in these instances the chapter itself functions much like the arc of the whole book and requires you to hold the reader’s hand. It’s not easy to juggle these threads, but the mark of a good memoirist (and novelist for that matter) is someone who remembers to tie it all together. I often liken this to wrapping a present. You have to make all the right folds and tape the sides and then tie the ribbon across the package. You wouldn’t bring a half-wrapped package with an untied ribbon to a party, right? So don’t send sample writing off to an editor that doesn’t have all your through-threads cleaned up. True, sometimes these threads can be difficult to see, but if you’re answering the questions you set out for yourself at the beginning of the journey then you shouldn’t lose your way.
4. Transparency. This includes honesty, truth-telling, and being vulnerable. For some people this comes so naturally that it’s a nonissue. For others it’s like pulling teeth. Many writers don’t realize how much you have to put yourself out there until they’ve delved into some memoir writing. Most memoirists, other than those who don’t even know the meaning of the word shame, will freak out at various junctures. This probably means you’re writing a good memoir. We live in a tell-all culture and if you don’t want to tell all then you should consider writing a novel. It’s important to distinguish the difference, however, between telling everything about yourself and telling everything about other people. I’m not suggesting that you sacrifice family relations for the sake of your memoir (though many people do), or that you bash all your exes for a good laugh (though many people do). (As a side note, I know lots of writers who have waited till certain family members were dead to be able to tell the truth of their life story, and there are some horrible people out in the world who don’t deserve to be spared. It of course depends on what kind of story you’re writing.) You don’t have to alienate everyone you know to tell the truth, but you do have to take risks. If you’re being transparent and telling your story as it happened and providing insights and nuance, then even those people who lived through the experience with you will likely, some day, understand why you wanted or needed to write your story.
Until next month.
Brooke
GO BACK TO THE WARNER COACHING HOMEPAGE
October 10, 2009
September 12, 2009
Breaking Down Self-Publishing
Since my June newsletter I’ve gotten a handful of requests from writers looking for a quick rundown on self-publishing costs. Whether self-publishing is worth it for you depends on a lot of factors. If you have a niche book and known audience, it can be a worthwhile endeavor. You can sell books directly from your website, or you can partner with companies like Lulu, Amazon, and other printers/distributors to sell your book.
This is going to be a long post, but if you’re considering self-publishing, there’s lots of valuable information in here. I’m comparing four possible routes you can take with self-publishing:
1. Lulu
2. CreateSpace
3. Lightning Source (LSI)
4. Traditional printing company (two examples below)
Our hypothetical book, for the purposes of this study, is a standard paperback. A trade paperback is generally 5.5 x 8.25 or 6 x 9, and approximately 250-300 pages (generally 80,000 words). Our list price is $16.00. Any variations on the traditional trade paperback model can cause your costs to fluctuate quite a bit.
The Basics
•It’s free to use.
•$99 if you buy their distribution package (there is a free alternative—which requires that you provide your own ISBN)
Charges and Fees
20% of the profit from a purchased item. The purchase price of all products includes a base cost for raw materials and printing service, which they calculate out for you and presumably they hold against royalties. Royalties on Lulu vary depending on your list price. The higher you price your book, the higher the royalty, but be careful not to price yourself out of the market! Royalties for our standard book are going to be approximately $2-$3 per book.
Pros
•Most value for the money, even with less royalties
•They offer assistance and have an active and helpful forum
•Good options on trim size and packages
Cons
•Their distribution relationship with Amazon is not very clear and seems to need to be better articulated on their site. If customers are buying from Lulu it’s a great set-up. If your consumers are Amazon worshippers, you might be better off with CreateSpace.
What you pay for:
•$99 for the distribution package (optional)
•proof copy + mailing = $30
•approximately $6/per standard trade book
•shipping
The Basics
•It’s free—no set up, no charge for one of their ISBNs
•They offer a Pro Plan for $39 per book, which seems to offer a pretty good savings if you’re buying more than a handful of books.
Charges and Fees
•Without pro plan
Fixed Charge: $1.50 per book
Charge per Page: $0.02
$6.50 per book
•With Pro Plan
Fixed Charge: $0.85 per book
Charge per page: $0.012
$3.85 per book
Other costs:
•Proof copy of your book + shipping = $30
•Shipping costs for however many books you order
What they take:
If sold in the CreateSpace eStore: 20%
If sold on Amazon.com: 40%
If sold in the CreateSpace eStore:
Their share: $7.70
Your share: $8.30
If sold on Amazon.com:
Their share: $10.90
Your share: $5.10
Pros
•Their relationship with Amazon means that they take less royalties than Lulu to sell through Amazon. This can be reason enough to go with them, though the consensus is that Lulu is the most user-friendly service available to date.
Cons
•Less variation than Lulu where trim size is concerned
•No assistance—you have to know what you’re doing
Charges and fees
•$75-$150 title set-up fee (average out at $100)
•$1.30/unit + $.018 per page, so for our 250-page book = $4.50
•Total cost per book = $5.30
•Distribution fee: $12/year per title
•ISBNs from Bowker at $245.00 for a block of ten
•One-time fees: $112
•Another good option for ISBN/barcodes is Bar Code Graphics, which allows you to buy single ISBNs.
Pros
•They’re great if you’re ready to be a business rather than an author. They provide distribution relationships with third-party distributors like Ingram, Baker & Taylor, etc., and so it’s easier to get into bookstores with LSI than with Lulu or CreateSpace.
•Good variety/options for trim sizes.
•Best consideration if you're printing color interior.
•Respected in the industry since they’ve been around for a while and have long-standing relationships with traditional publishers. They’re owned by Ingram, which also owns a major distribution company.
Cons
•It’s more complicated, no question. They don’t offer assistance and you have to figure out the distribution situation, which aren’t such big considerations on Lulu or CreateSpace, in part because the major distribution on those sites is online venues.
TRADITIONAL PRINTER
I talked to two different authors whose experiences I’m going to share in this section. If you go this route, the biggest thing you’ll need are the printer’s specifications for printing, and with this option you will gain by ordering larger quantities of books. Printers won’t set you up with distribution relationships like the other options will, so this is a better choice for people who are planning on selling their books through their website, or who are interested primarily in corporate deals.
Author 1 is Annette Fix, author of The Break-Up Diet
Annette chose to establish her own imprint, which entailed getting a resale license and business license and working out a distribution arrangement to get her books into bookstores.
Annette’s costs:
•Block of ISBNs: $245
•Editing and design: $6,000 (with some admitted missteps)
•Printing costs: 2,100 copies printed by McNaughton & Gunn for approximately $2.14 per unit on a 285-page trade paperback that retails for $16.95.
•Shipping costs for stock sent to her (600 units) and to the distributor (1500 units).
Annette’s word of caution: “If I had known then what I know now about paying monthly storage fees to my distributor, and shipping costs and the invoicing/accounting/paperwork nightmares of maintaining my wholesale account with Baker & Taylor, I would’ve set up my book POD through Lightning Source.”
Author 2 is Rosie Sorenson, author of They Had Me at Meow Rosie wrote that she decided to go with a traditional printer because: “I wanted a special size (7.5 X 5.5) and I also wanted it in all color (cover, photos, and some colored text on each page.) I also wanted the photos placed near the text where each particular cat is mentioned – it takes a seasoned designer to do that. I looked at POD options and I couldn’t find anyone who could produce a book to my specifications.” She printed with Vaughan Printing in Nashville and had a great experience with them.
Rosie’s costs
•Because of the fact that her book is four-color throughout with lots of spot photographs and design elements, she paid a lot more than Annette per book. She paid approximately $8 per book and ordered an initially quantity of 1,000 books.
•Editorial: approximately $200-$300
•Design: $865.00
•1 ISBN/barcode with Bar Code Graphics
Rosie’s word of advice: “One thing which should probably be highlighted is that self-publishing is a whole lot more work than anyone could ever imagine—getting all the details right, developing a marketing plan, implementing the plan, etc. It's definitely not for shy, introverted writers! The writer has to want success more than anything and be willing to do whatever it takes to make it happen.”
*Note here that next month’s newsletter will cover the marketing side of self-publishing and will include Annette’s efforts to promote herself by sending out ARCs (Advanced Reading Copies) and getting her book modeled at B&N, and Rosie’s tremendous success at getting her book reviewed and partnering with corporations who support her cause—cat rescue.
IMPORTANT OTHER COSTS TO CONSIDER
When you self-publish, you are not just sending your Word files to the printer. Besides having your work copyedited and proofread, you also want to have your book professionally designed. If you have any images in the interior that you do not own, make sure you secure permission to reprint those images. If you’re excerpting anything over 50-100 words from another source, make sure you get permission to excerpt. Other costs are nontraditional bindings, buying your own ISBN, getting barcodes made, and fulfillment if you choose to do your own fulfillment rather than partner with a distributor.
BREAKING DOWN EDITORIAL COSTS
Editors and proofreaders can range in cost from as low as $20/hour to as high as $80/hour—and I’m sure there are those who charge more than that. you can estimate how many hours a copyediting and proofreading job should take with the following formulas:
Copyediting
Word count divided by 310 divided by 5 for heavy copyedit
Word count divided by 310 divided by 6 for medium copyedit
Word count divided by 310 divided by 7 for light copyedit
So a heavy copyedit for a 80,000 word manuscript would run:
80,000 ÷ 310 = 258.06 ÷ 5 = 51 hours
Proofreading
Word count divided by 310 divided by 8 for heavy proofread
Word count divided by 310 divided by 9 for medium proofread
Word count divided by 310 divided by 10 for light proofread
So a light proofread for a 80,000-word manuscript (running approximately 250 pages or longer) would run:
80,000 ÷ 310 = 258.06 ÷ 10 = 26 hours
BREAKING DOWN DESIGN COSTS
There are lots of freelance designers out in the world, and you can find them through MediaBistro or by looking at the back cover of books you love. Designers’ names and even their websites are often on the books they’ve designed.
The Book Designers are a one-stop shop for everything from creative consultation to design samples to cover and interior design to helping you find a printer if one of the abovementioned options isn’t right for you. They do standard text-driven books and four-color design-heavy books, too. I got on the phone with them to ask about their pricing, and the basic range for our straightforward 250-page book is going to run in the $3,000 range. Sounds like it could be more or less depending on how many passes are needed on cover and/or interior—and design-heavy and color books are going to naturally be more expensive. They’re very responsive and samples of books they’ve worked on can be found on their site. Check them out.
You might be wondering why Rosie, author of They Had Me at Meow, only paid $865 for her design. It’s possible to find designers who charge less, and her book is very short. Although it has spot illustrations, she has a fairly simple design and she knew exactly what she wanted. The more you’re clear on your design expectations and the better you can convey this to your designer, the less money you’ll spend. Most design costs get ratcheted up when you need to see multiple variations of the interior and/or cover design. Knowing what you want in advance and prepping your designer with a cover memo and an interior design memo is a very good idea!
So what are your total costs going to be and can you really make a profit?
Lots of people say don’t go into self-publishing if you want to make a profit, while others would never touch a traditional publishing deal because they’ve had great success in marketing their work to their audience.
So, yes, it’s subjective and dependent on who you are and what you’re writing.
If you like to market yourself and feel comfortable in that role, self-publishing can be a good thing. If you don’t, you might want to reconsider.
If you know you have a built-in audience and you know where to find them, self-publishing could be a great option. If you have no idea who your readership is, or think your readership is “everyone,” don’t self-publish.
If you know upfront that you are going to be super invested in having your book look exactly the way you want it (ie, have specifics about the trim size, must have color photos), then self-publishing might be a great option. Publishers will often opt for the cheaper option and certain things you desire that are cost-prohibitive, meaning that you need to be prepared to compromise if you go with a traditional publisher.
Until next month.
Brooke
GO BACK TO THE WARNER COACHING HOMEPAGE
August 15, 2009
What Exactly Am I Writing?
I attended the PNWA writers conference earlier this month, where I sat on the editors’ panel and answered questions (along with six other editors) from an audience of 400+ writers and aspiring authors.
I was inspired to write about this topic this month because of how many questions were about trying to get to the root of how a project ought to be labeled. Among them: What’s the difference between high-concept and low-concept? What’s the difference between commercial and literary fiction? Am I writing creative nonfiction or narrative nonfiction? What’s a hybrid?
This has everything to do with category, which is a critical thing you need to know before you approach a publisher with a book idea. If you don’t know what category your book falls into, walk into your local bookstore and figure out where your book would be shelved if it were there. If it straddles two categories, that’s okay. You might well be writing a hybrid.
But back to the questions asked by the audience, which I’m going to answer here because I think the answers are worth sharing.
What’s the difference between high-concept and low-concept?
The answer to this one came from Rose Hilliard* at St. Martin's Press (and I’m paraphrasing all answers). Rose gave the example of a novel she acquired about women who get sick of doing all the work at Christmastime and decide to go on strike. That’s an example of a high-concept book. In a single sentence you can imagine how this novel will capture its intended audience’s attention.
So what’s low-concept? Rose followed up with an example that went something like this: The protagonist commits a crime and so he has to go back to his hometown and connect with his family, and from there he meets a bunch of guys who are up to no good. And then those guys decide to go to France and take the protagonist with them, where he gets mixed up in some stuff he shouldn’t be mixed up in because he’s trying to get away from all that. You get the picture, right? After two run-on sentences, we’re not hooked. There’s no sense of what the book’s about.
So is it important to have a high-concept book if you want to get a publishing deal? Not necessarily. Some low-concept books are simply too complex to be captured by a quick get-to-the-point pitch. And that's perfectly okay---and a beautiful segue into the section question:
What’s the difference between commercial and literary fiction?
The answer to this one came from Katie K. Gilligan* at Thomas Dunne Books. She’s a runner, and so she told the audience that this is how it breaks down. If she’s able to read a book while running on the treadmill and it keeps her attention, that’s a commercial book. If there’s no possible way she can read on the treadmill because she needs to curl up on the couch with a glass of wine to really enjoy the prose, that’s a literary book. I loved this distinction.
As a side note, there’s also such a thing as commercial and literary nonfiction. It’s a little different only because commercial nonfiction is usually high-concept. These are books you might find at Chronicle Books, for instance. A book like The Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook is a great example because it’s fun, full of cool and funny anecdotes, and it makes you want to pick it up and buy it as a gift. Commercial. A good example of literary nonfiction is almost always going to be a memoir, or a biography that’s beautifully told. Examples of literary memoir abound, but as an example I offer The Story of My Father, by Sue Miller, who’s a novelist. And a literary novelist at that.
And so to the next question:
Am I writing creative nonfiction or narrative nonfiction?
This was the one I took. I said there was no difference, though some disagreement followed. The biggest issue where creative nonfiction is concerned is the word “creative,” which really, when you think about it, doesn’t jive with “nonfiction.” Creative implies creating things out of your mind while nonfiction implies truth. Of course, memoir is creative nonfiction because no one is capable of remembering the exact details of what happened to them when they were five years old. If you think Running with Scissors and The Glass Castle are examples of authors will phenomenal memories, well…. I’ve heard Augusten Burroughs does have a fantastic memory, but even still. For an in-depth read on the variations of creative nonfiction, I highly recommend “The Meandering River: An Overview of the Subgenres of Creative Nonfiction,” by Sue William Silverman.
And finally, what is a hybrid?
A hybrid is a book that straddles more than one category. Practical nonfiction is often hybrid in nature because it’s prescriptive nonfiction, but the narrator’s voice is key. Oftentimes these books are memoir in nature because they tell stories about the authors’ experiences. Smart Women Finish Rich is a good example of this. It’s clearly a prescriptive book meant to help women understand their finances and money issues, but it’s also very full of the author’s personal story, as well as the story of women he’s helped. Eat, Pray, Love is another. It’s memoir, but it’s shelved in travel. This oftentimes happens because publishers want to keep books out of memoir whenever possible. Why? Simply because it’s an overcrowded shelf. If you’re writing a memoir, don’t despair. It’s not a bad thing. But if you’re writing a memoir about sports, travel, food, a personality disorder, you name it, you’re better off positioning yourself in the sports, travel, food, or psychology category when pitching your book to an agent or publisher. It’s just another one of the quirks of this industry.
That’s it for now, though hey, if you have a question about category or terminology, leave it in the comments section and I’ll happily respond.
*Editor bios for those of us who attended the conference can be found here.
Until next month.
Brooke
GO BACK TO THE WARNER COACHING HOMEPAGE
I was inspired to write about this topic this month because of how many questions were about trying to get to the root of how a project ought to be labeled. Among them: What’s the difference between high-concept and low-concept? What’s the difference between commercial and literary fiction? Am I writing creative nonfiction or narrative nonfiction? What’s a hybrid?
This has everything to do with category, which is a critical thing you need to know before you approach a publisher with a book idea. If you don’t know what category your book falls into, walk into your local bookstore and figure out where your book would be shelved if it were there. If it straddles two categories, that’s okay. You might well be writing a hybrid.
But back to the questions asked by the audience, which I’m going to answer here because I think the answers are worth sharing.
What’s the difference between high-concept and low-concept?
The answer to this one came from Rose Hilliard* at St. Martin's Press (and I’m paraphrasing all answers). Rose gave the example of a novel she acquired about women who get sick of doing all the work at Christmastime and decide to go on strike. That’s an example of a high-concept book. In a single sentence you can imagine how this novel will capture its intended audience’s attention.
So what’s low-concept? Rose followed up with an example that went something like this: The protagonist commits a crime and so he has to go back to his hometown and connect with his family, and from there he meets a bunch of guys who are up to no good. And then those guys decide to go to France and take the protagonist with them, where he gets mixed up in some stuff he shouldn’t be mixed up in because he’s trying to get away from all that. You get the picture, right? After two run-on sentences, we’re not hooked. There’s no sense of what the book’s about.
So is it important to have a high-concept book if you want to get a publishing deal? Not necessarily. Some low-concept books are simply too complex to be captured by a quick get-to-the-point pitch. And that's perfectly okay---and a beautiful segue into the section question:
What’s the difference between commercial and literary fiction?
The answer to this one came from Katie K. Gilligan* at Thomas Dunne Books. She’s a runner, and so she told the audience that this is how it breaks down. If she’s able to read a book while running on the treadmill and it keeps her attention, that’s a commercial book. If there’s no possible way she can read on the treadmill because she needs to curl up on the couch with a glass of wine to really enjoy the prose, that’s a literary book. I loved this distinction.
As a side note, there’s also such a thing as commercial and literary nonfiction. It’s a little different only because commercial nonfiction is usually high-concept. These are books you might find at Chronicle Books, for instance. A book like The Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook is a great example because it’s fun, full of cool and funny anecdotes, and it makes you want to pick it up and buy it as a gift. Commercial. A good example of literary nonfiction is almost always going to be a memoir, or a biography that’s beautifully told. Examples of literary memoir abound, but as an example I offer The Story of My Father, by Sue Miller, who’s a novelist. And a literary novelist at that.
And so to the next question:
Am I writing creative nonfiction or narrative nonfiction?
This was the one I took. I said there was no difference, though some disagreement followed. The biggest issue where creative nonfiction is concerned is the word “creative,” which really, when you think about it, doesn’t jive with “nonfiction.” Creative implies creating things out of your mind while nonfiction implies truth. Of course, memoir is creative nonfiction because no one is capable of remembering the exact details of what happened to them when they were five years old. If you think Running with Scissors and The Glass Castle are examples of authors will phenomenal memories, well…. I’ve heard Augusten Burroughs does have a fantastic memory, but even still. For an in-depth read on the variations of creative nonfiction, I highly recommend “The Meandering River: An Overview of the Subgenres of Creative Nonfiction,” by Sue William Silverman.
And finally, what is a hybrid?
A hybrid is a book that straddles more than one category. Practical nonfiction is often hybrid in nature because it’s prescriptive nonfiction, but the narrator’s voice is key. Oftentimes these books are memoir in nature because they tell stories about the authors’ experiences. Smart Women Finish Rich is a good example of this. It’s clearly a prescriptive book meant to help women understand their finances and money issues, but it’s also very full of the author’s personal story, as well as the story of women he’s helped. Eat, Pray, Love is another. It’s memoir, but it’s shelved in travel. This oftentimes happens because publishers want to keep books out of memoir whenever possible. Why? Simply because it’s an overcrowded shelf. If you’re writing a memoir, don’t despair. It’s not a bad thing. But if you’re writing a memoir about sports, travel, food, a personality disorder, you name it, you’re better off positioning yourself in the sports, travel, food, or psychology category when pitching your book to an agent or publisher. It’s just another one of the quirks of this industry.
That’s it for now, though hey, if you have a question about category or terminology, leave it in the comments section and I’ll happily respond.
*Editor bios for those of us who attended the conference can be found here.
Until next month.
Brooke
GO BACK TO THE WARNER COACHING HOMEPAGE
July 10, 2009
too many cooks!
It's July, so I'm keeping it short as I prep for my upcoming week off.
Being that July is a season of BBQs and outdoor eating, this month's topic takes a look at what happens when there are too many cooks in the kitchen. This is a common creative trapping, one I see all the time with my authors who show their chapters, book covers, titles, catalog materials---you name it---to their friends, family, writers' groups, and other trusted allies.
Having too many cooks in the kitchen only works when you know who the kitchen boss is. And when you're writing a book, you're always the kitchen boss. Last month I had at least four writers realize that some essential ideas and concept for a piece of their writing had gotten lost in the overwhelming rewrite that followed a critique or feedback from one of the aforementioned trusted allies. Whether these people have your best intentions at heart is inconsequential. If you want to write, you've gotta know when to take feedback and when to say no thank you.
This particular knowing is just like cooking a burger. Leave it on too long and you'll have a burnt-to-the-crisp patty that no one wants to touch. Don't leave it on long enough and you're gonna have a bloody burger that's probably not fit to eat. It's the same with writing: Let it be overcritiqued and reworked to the degree that you don't recognize it anymore and you've gone too far; don't accept any editorial feedback and turning the other way when someone offers you legitimate advice, and you're left with something that could have used a little more cooking. It's not easy. It takes practice. And it takes working with people you really trust to give you consistent, solid feedback that's not about coopting your work or turning it into something it was never meant to be in the first place.
The first step toward getting those perfectly cooked burgers, though, is remembering who's boss.
Until next month,
Brooke
GO BACK TO THE WARNER COACHING HOMEPAGE
Being that July is a season of BBQs and outdoor eating, this month's topic takes a look at what happens when there are too many cooks in the kitchen. This is a common creative trapping, one I see all the time with my authors who show their chapters, book covers, titles, catalog materials---you name it---to their friends, family, writers' groups, and other trusted allies.
Having too many cooks in the kitchen only works when you know who the kitchen boss is. And when you're writing a book, you're always the kitchen boss. Last month I had at least four writers realize that some essential ideas and concept for a piece of their writing had gotten lost in the overwhelming rewrite that followed a critique or feedback from one of the aforementioned trusted allies. Whether these people have your best intentions at heart is inconsequential. If you want to write, you've gotta know when to take feedback and when to say no thank you.
This particular knowing is just like cooking a burger. Leave it on too long and you'll have a burnt-to-the-crisp patty that no one wants to touch. Don't leave it on long enough and you're gonna have a bloody burger that's probably not fit to eat. It's the same with writing: Let it be overcritiqued and reworked to the degree that you don't recognize it anymore and you've gone too far; don't accept any editorial feedback and turning the other way when someone offers you legitimate advice, and you're left with something that could have used a little more cooking. It's not easy. It takes practice. And it takes working with people you really trust to give you consistent, solid feedback that's not about coopting your work or turning it into something it was never meant to be in the first place.
The first step toward getting those perfectly cooked burgers, though, is remembering who's boss.
Until next month,
Brooke
GO BACK TO THE WARNER COACHING HOMEPAGE
June 9, 2009
new media and the future of book publishing
I’ve been going to BookExpo America for close to a decade. It's a huge convention filled---for one weekend every year---with people whose life pursuit is all about The Book. Once you've gone for a year or two (particularly if you're working), it's easy to forget how glamorous and intriguing it seems to the outside world. (After all, Kathy Lee Gifford and Eduardo Galleano were in our booth this year.) For the past few years I’ve suffered through BEA rather than really enjoy it. A fellow editor captured the typical mood for those of us who spend the whole weekend working the convention floor when, in response to my question, “How was BEA for you this year?” he answered, “Both invigorating and depressing---as usual.”
This year, I have something different to offer. A bit of hope. The book business is still thriving and getting published doesn’t need to feel like an elusive dream. However, for those in the business, comfortable with a certain model and hoping against hope that we can turn this tide and go back to the old ways of doing business, the news is not so upbeat. Publishing is changing. But in my mind, this is a good thing.
The most interesting part of the Expo to me, aside from scoping out the competition, was new media. There are amazing services that promise to revolutionize publishing. (And yes, threaten the status quo and upset paper-lovers who think the Kindle is the Devil.) I have a Kindle, and I love it.
One cool new Amazon service is Create Space, a self-publishing tool that looks like a good alternative to Lulu. Self-publishing, in fact, was the most improved service offering at the show. No longer is it the maligned pitiful creature it once was----in part because of online marketers like Amazon that allow you to distribute your book on their sites. With print-on-demand (POD), no one has to warehouse your book. No one is going to inform you that they’re pulping your entire inventory unless you can buy all the stock at cost. Not only are these services smart, they’re offering another small step toward saving the planet.
I will say this: I am an optimist. There are people in publishing (and lots of everyday Luddites who fear that the printed word will disappear) who don’t like what new media promises to do to the industry. There are authors, too, who wouldn’t dream of self-publishing---and I understand that. DIY publishing is no small undertaking, after all. Self-publishing is to book publishing what blogging is to the news industry. Anyone can publish, and some stuff is better than others and so it falls on the consumer to figure out what’s good and what’s bad. Which is an exercise in subjectivity, clearly. And this model takes control away from the Decision-Makers (people like me who make our living deciding what’s fit to be published on our respective lists). Lots of Decision-Makers do not like it and want it to stop. In an April decree on Publishers Weekly, Jonathan Karp, celebrated publisher of Twelve, wrote about all the ways publishers need to do publishing better so that Decision-Makers like us can continue to control what gets published. The article is an excellent example of paternalism at its worst in that he exerts it’s the responsibility of the publishing industry to undo what’s not ours to control. (To me it also echoes the CBS exec who offered his assessment of the bloggers who were damaging his news team as a “guy sitting in his living room in his pajamas writing what he thinks.”) And he doesn’t take into account all that’s brilliant about the changes in the industry. Just as the music industry has summarily freaked out over the impact of the Internet on music, so too has the publishing industry reacted to new media.
New media has been featured at BEA for years, but never has it been so front and center, occupying good floor space and commanding a different type of attention. Maybe it’s Amazon and their ability to convince readers (even book lovers who like to stick their noses in the spines of new books) that they can and want to read on e-readers. Or maybe it’s just the sea change in the public’s attitude toward self-publishing and POD and e-products. Bottom line: There’s more digital everything. And for writers, this is a good thing. It opens up the possibility for you to say yes before you say no---or to say yes after you’ve heard no---and encourages you to be open to all the possible roads you might walk down when exploring your publishing options.
I left BEA this year feeling invigorated, like my colleague in Seattle, but far less depressed than I’ve felt in past years. Maybe it’s my own shift in perspective. A reframing that’s been needing to happen. That instead of buying into the idea that we’re somehow witnessing something in dire need of fixing, perhaps we’re instead experiencing a new beginning that we can only truly understand when we stop reacting and start asking ourselves what's possible.
Until next month,
Brooke
GO BACK TO THE WARNER COACHING HOMEPAGE
This year, I have something different to offer. A bit of hope. The book business is still thriving and getting published doesn’t need to feel like an elusive dream. However, for those in the business, comfortable with a certain model and hoping against hope that we can turn this tide and go back to the old ways of doing business, the news is not so upbeat. Publishing is changing. But in my mind, this is a good thing.
The most interesting part of the Expo to me, aside from scoping out the competition, was new media. There are amazing services that promise to revolutionize publishing. (And yes, threaten the status quo and upset paper-lovers who think the Kindle is the Devil.) I have a Kindle, and I love it.
One cool new Amazon service is Create Space, a self-publishing tool that looks like a good alternative to Lulu. Self-publishing, in fact, was the most improved service offering at the show. No longer is it the maligned pitiful creature it once was----in part because of online marketers like Amazon that allow you to distribute your book on their sites. With print-on-demand (POD), no one has to warehouse your book. No one is going to inform you that they’re pulping your entire inventory unless you can buy all the stock at cost. Not only are these services smart, they’re offering another small step toward saving the planet.
I will say this: I am an optimist. There are people in publishing (and lots of everyday Luddites who fear that the printed word will disappear) who don’t like what new media promises to do to the industry. There are authors, too, who wouldn’t dream of self-publishing---and I understand that. DIY publishing is no small undertaking, after all. Self-publishing is to book publishing what blogging is to the news industry. Anyone can publish, and some stuff is better than others and so it falls on the consumer to figure out what’s good and what’s bad. Which is an exercise in subjectivity, clearly. And this model takes control away from the Decision-Makers (people like me who make our living deciding what’s fit to be published on our respective lists). Lots of Decision-Makers do not like it and want it to stop. In an April decree on Publishers Weekly, Jonathan Karp, celebrated publisher of Twelve, wrote about all the ways publishers need to do publishing better so that Decision-Makers like us can continue to control what gets published. The article is an excellent example of paternalism at its worst in that he exerts it’s the responsibility of the publishing industry to undo what’s not ours to control. (To me it also echoes the CBS exec who offered his assessment of the bloggers who were damaging his news team as a “guy sitting in his living room in his pajamas writing what he thinks.”) And he doesn’t take into account all that’s brilliant about the changes in the industry. Just as the music industry has summarily freaked out over the impact of the Internet on music, so too has the publishing industry reacted to new media.
New media has been featured at BEA for years, but never has it been so front and center, occupying good floor space and commanding a different type of attention. Maybe it’s Amazon and their ability to convince readers (even book lovers who like to stick their noses in the spines of new books) that they can and want to read on e-readers. Or maybe it’s just the sea change in the public’s attitude toward self-publishing and POD and e-products. Bottom line: There’s more digital everything. And for writers, this is a good thing. It opens up the possibility for you to say yes before you say no---or to say yes after you’ve heard no---and encourages you to be open to all the possible roads you might walk down when exploring your publishing options.
I left BEA this year feeling invigorated, like my colleague in Seattle, but far less depressed than I’ve felt in past years. Maybe it’s my own shift in perspective. A reframing that’s been needing to happen. That instead of buying into the idea that we’re somehow witnessing something in dire need of fixing, perhaps we’re instead experiencing a new beginning that we can only truly understand when we stop reacting and start asking ourselves what's possible.
Until next month,
Brooke
GO BACK TO THE WARNER COACHING HOMEPAGE
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