Into the Fire

Passionate thoughts about the world of writing and the Power of God

 

I’m convinced it is a rare time when a professional in the publishing industry can go into a fresh piece of writing without preconceived notions. They tell us as much when they admit they’re looking for reasons to reject samples of manuscripts submitted to them rather than reasons to request more of said manuscripts. The rules of writing circulate repeatedly around the blogosphere with agents, editors, and those rare publishers who blog weighing in on the basic skills of how to write in order to ward off amateurish drivel which piles up in their emails.

 

Instructions for writing queries and proposals surface regularly on these blogs because the mass influx of new writers are just beginning to re-ask the same old questions we’ve all had to face and learn—and realize those answers are nearly all different. Introduction 101 to the subjectivity of the writing biz.

 

All the good intentions by professionals result in a few of the masses paying attention to the instructions while the majority of the writing masses do not. Amusing anecdotes appear on agents’, editors’, and publishers’ sites regarding submissions as a demonstration of the lack of forethought and total irresponsibility of some wannabe writers—a place where most of us who’ve been doing this for any amount of time started out. 

 

The various personalities of different professionals affect what they will and won’t tolerate, and, let’s face it, some doofus moves can create a smile from a number of them without also managing to irk them.

 

Writers are constantly reminded of the huge and laborious slush piles demanding the attentions of agents and editors. The bulk of submissions now lies in the laps of agents, who some publishers regard as the gateway to their world. Many of the limited number of proven agents are not taking on new authors because they’re swamped with the needs of the clientele they’ve built. It’s logical to assume that publishers might be returning to established authors for repeated success and diminishing their searches for newer writers. Diminishing—not eliminating.

 

As I remarked in a previous post, I might not be able to specifically diagnose why I love a book but can tell you precisely why I don’t like one. It is as such for many professionals when they say: I can tell what it is I’m looking for when I see it. That intangible something which makes them ask for more? For me it’s what makes me turn the pages of a novel with anticipation, stay up when my eyes burn, and exclaim “I love this book” to whoever will listen to such an ambiguous statement. The tricky and indefinable part of all this is the subjectivity factor. What I (or any professional) might love, you hate. And always vice versa.   

 

Preconceived notions? Even readers have them when picking up a new book by a favorite author. So it figures that professionals keep their own expectations either in full view or hidden in their preferences within the genre spots they seek. Plus, they’ve been molded to look for those stories and writers who fit their publishers’ “style”. While some publishers cover nearly every genre, many others do not. Some publishers have created a spot for outside-the-box niche books, i.e. literary novels. They’re willing to take chances on a small market book if it strikes their fancy—and probably if the author maintains an impressive platform.  

 

And just to show you how little good it sometimes does to make these preferences, instructions, warnings, and guidelines known: I attended a writers’ conference last year and made an appointment with an agent who couldn’t make the event due to illness. Another professional stepped in at the last minute to help eager writers feel like they hadn’t wasted their time and money. The conference information (and pre-conference pamphlet mailed to all attendees) gave the specific stipulations as to what this agent (and other professionals) wanted. Three of the five in attendance at my appointment presented pitches which didn’t fit into any category the agent had listed.

 

Preconceived notions? We all have them. Defining them can be a problem.

 

God, where we fail, you don’t. You choose to lead us, but we so seldom follow with our whole hearts. Forgive me for straying to wrong paths when I do. Lead me in your ways everlasting. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

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2 responses to “Preconceived Notions”

  1. Kristen Torres-Toro Avatar

    We talk a lot at my missions organization about not having any expectations. That’s difficult to do. It’s startling to realize you had them–even if they were just dreams. I’ve learned how to do that in missions. Now I need to learn how to do that in writing.
    When I pick up a book by a new author, I have expectations. Whether it’s the specific publisher, the look of the book itself, the subject matter, or buzz I’ve heard about the author previously. I really try to put those aside because it’s what I hope people will do for me one day. But it’s harder to do when you’ve had the experience of an amazing book–just as it’s hard to do in missions… and life in general.

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  2. Nicole Avatar

    It’s unrealistic to ask people not to have expectations or preconceived notions. However, in cases as you describe with missions it’s necessary to dispel the notions/ideas/expectations/dreams which are unrealistic and even potentially harmful.
    With novels I try to take each book individually, read just enough of the blurb to see if the plot interests me, and head into the story hoping for a good ride. With my favorite authors I expect more, but, like you, with new authors (to me) I try to leave my expectations or suspicions behind–not always able to do so–and start reading.
    I do suspect that professionals head into their queries with major skepticism and only a little dash of hope. I could be wrong, too.

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