Into the Fire

On Mick Silva’s blog (Your Writers Group), he gives the criteria for prospective authors who plan to attend a writers’ conference either for the first time or preceding publication. The instructions are succinct and useful, and, if you plan on having an editor appointment with him, you no longer have an excuse to be ill-prepared.

Now here’s an indirect slam to writers like me:

“Do pay attention. Much of the benefit, if not all, of a writers conference is what you learn while there. Authors’ and editors’ names, literary terms, methods of writing, clarifying, editing, working, thinking, appealing to the muse. Don’t waste your time worrying about your pitch, selling your idea, trying to force your way up from the place you need to be to learn. It’s not about getting published. It’s about being in a place where you are being courted because you’ve acquired so much knowledge, and your book begs to be published. While many bad books do get published, publishing the good ones is inevitable.
Don’t listen to amateurs. There is more slippery sludge thrown around by well-meaning Christian newbies than any of us can shake our fingers at. The blogging world has made this bad advice proliferate, and there’s far too much posturing and speculating that goes on in absence of good data and some honest humility. Pride and ego can get the best of anyone—so be smart and listen to those who know.”

In that I’m a blogger giving opinions, certainly NOT giving advice, wondering about some of the inconsistencies posted at websites and blogs from agents, editors, and authors . . .

Learning the terms . . . it seems like every other month, there’s a new one. Is this one to replace another one, or to be added to the list? It also seems like when one professional uses a term such as my personal favorite “literary” (not), it means something different from another professional’s use of it. Then we have “genre”, “niche”, “category”, “brand”, and innumerable others.

It’s a given that any business has its own “language”. Horse racing has its own, IT guys have their own, retail has its own.

And the publishing business has its own. The problem lies in its uniquely different requirements according to where you apply, and its ever-expanding vocabulary to identify its product. Aaahhh, because it’s in the word business, it’s okay to use so many?

Here are three examples from the professionals.

From the Steve Laube Literary Agency:
“While the non-fiction proposal requires a chapter by chapter analysis, the fiction proposal should be a maximum of three single spaced pages that present the entire story. Don’t worry, your synopsis will be the worst writing you’ve ever done. That is okay. Just tell the story in quick form so we can know what happens after your sample chapters.”

From an interview with Rick Christian at Alive Communications:
“Ultimately it boils down to words on the page. How good are they? Freshness counts. We’re always looking for new voices and great writing. Always. Having said that, I recently received a proposal from an unknown. I circulated the material and the agents raved about the author’s unique style, thought-provoking insights–and then reminded me that publishers wouldn’t be interested. In the genre this particular project fell into, publishers prefer authors with names and established platforms–people who bring large constituencies to the table.
Q. That’s discouraging for the first-time writer who doesn’t have a national TV show.
A. It’s a tough biz. But the reality in bookstores isn’t much different than grocery stores and hardware stores. Name brands sell. This becomes even truer as small retailers lose ground to the big boxes. Books have become commodities and have shorter lives on shelves than a box of Cheerios. And yet, the cream always rises. If the words are great, the manuscript will eventually get published. Great writing is noticed, and eventually an agent or publisher will get excited and become the personal champion for the project. We can’t take on everything we like from first-time authors, but we generally try to advocate for a half dozen unknowns and up-and-comers each year. It may take shopping them to twenty publishers and getting turned down 19 times, but all we need is one yes. “

From Books & Such Literary Agency:
“If we’re interested in seeing your work, we’ll ask you for the following: For a novel (including young adult novels)
A synopsis (5-6 pages double-spaced) in which you tell us the basic plot and introduce us to your main characters.
The first three chapters (approximately 50 pages of the work).
Your biography, with an emphasis on your qualifications for writing the manuscript and how you can help to market it.”

Some places require a sterling query letter, and others dismiss the value of the query. The proposal is touted as THE key to getting published, so there are books and articles about writing all of them. The natural assumption is to write the best you can for all the various forms, not to mention the writing in your book.

And you know, it probably is your best shot to attend a writers’ conference and meet people face to face because, hey, they might like you—they might even like moi.

The fact is they’re expensive—at least, quite honestly, the ones where the bulk of the power hitters in the writing community hang out. I marvel at those who are able to go to them year after year, clearly paying their dues and getting “seen”. Is that another factor in this crazy world of publishing? Literally paying our dues with dollars and cents? The more we’re willing to spend on submitting to the establishing of our faces in the crowds, the more we’ll be taken seriously? I don’t know—that’s why I’m asking.

Okay, I have offered NO advice here. I want to make that clear. These are the musings of a writer—good, bad, ugly, or indifferent. If there’s anything of value in these words, thank the Lord for it.

Father, I place it all in your hands. This thing you have for me is yours. My desire is to honor you. Always, in the Name of Jesus, Amen.