A friend's success

About three years ago, I met a very nice woman at a writers' conference and we fell into conversation about the novel she was working on. I read the first chapter and liked what I saw.

Now that novel has been published, and I was able to pick up a copy lately. It's called Wish Club. The author is Kim Strickland. I recommend it to you. What a treat when someone you know succeeds at such a tough thing! And Kim really has. Go buy it and find out what happens to Jill and Mara and Claudia and the other members of their book club. You'll have a fine time. I guarantee it.

The upsides of writing a book

Yesterday my Google alert let me know that there was a nice mention of The Complete Idiot's Guide to Difficult Conversations http://us.penguingroup.com/ in a blog called 3rd Eye http://3deye.blogspot.com. It was nice to read that the writer of the blog had used the book three times in two weeks to prepare for conversations--and that it had apparently been useful.

Later in the week, two media opportunities came across my desk, and I'll be taking advantage of those. Then two speaking opportunties. I'm expecting a workshop to happen in the winter as well. All related to the Idiot's Guide.

Which points up something about a writing career--and that's the fact that it is a career. Some wonderfully successful writers don't tour, don't speak very often, and don't do many interviews. Their lives go on smoothly without their promoting themselves. A Grisham can spend his time writing, and his books will sell, but most of the rest of us have to toggle between writing and promotional activities, and if we shy away from that aspect of our careers, our books don't sell very well. That makes publishers less likely to take a chance on us again.

You can't count on the publishing house to make you a star, although some of the smaller houses do a wonderful job of promoting their authors, especially within specific niches. The subject matter expert for one of the books I wrote is beginning to do a lot of keynote speaking in her area of expertise at state and national gatherings, and most of those engagements have been dreamed up and promoted by the small independent house who published us. Another author I know who was published by a relatively smaller press has been promoted extensively by the house, and it has paid off brilliantly.

The author of one of my book doctoring projects is self-publishing, but he wants to see sales, so he has engaged a very fine publicist--and that author is going to get out there.

So should you. If you're considering becoming a writer, think of the totality of the career and make time for it. As I've said before, mastering the craft is the most important thing you can do, but don't forget the rest.

New publication

And now for unabashed self-promotion. My newest book, The Complete Idiot's Guide to Difficult Conversations (Alpha Books, http://us.penguingroup.com) has been released. I've written several books, but this ranks up there with my favorites. The experience of writing it was challenging and fun, but there was also the delight of working with the group of people who produced it. Publishing can be fraught with opportunities for conflict (although I've had only momentary issues with any publisher), but this group was especially professional and kind. I hope the book will be helpful and that readers enjoy it.

Check it out.

Don't be touchy

As I've mentioned, I'm a book doctor. Writers who want to publish hire me to work on their manuscripts. Some just want to make sure all the commas are in the right places. Others want me to critique the entire manuscript to one degree or another. Some want me to go line by line and rewrite, correct, fact check, point out inconsistencies, and really vet their work. Other just want me to read the whole book to see if I think it's publishable in its current form.

If you're thinking of hiring a book doctor like me, please check your ego at the door. Book doctors (at least the reputable ones) are professionals who tell you the truth. They can't ethically take your money otherwise. I mentioned a few posts back that you can't ask your mother or your best friend for an honest assessment of your work because they don't want to hurt your feelings--and they may also truly believe that you've written the Great American Novel.

The book doctor will assess plot, pacing, characterization, dialogue. He or she will highlight point of view shifts, name changes, anachronisms, and other things you might not see because you're too close to the book. In nonfiction, the book doctor looks for holes in your arguments, inaccurate conclusions, misquotations, and other factual errors. In both cases, he or she will make suggestions regarding mechanics and style.


If you're working with a good, honest book doctor who calls these things to your attention, here's what to do:

• Fix them.

Here's what not to do:

• Pout and/or cry.
• Say, "You just don't understand my work."
• Get angry.
• Become defensive and argue every minuscule point.
• Withhold payment.

The person you've hired has done what you hired him or her to do. Would you cry if your plumber said you needed a new part for your sink? (Well, maybe if it's a really expensive part.) But you understand what I'm saying. This is a professional encounter for which you are paying. Would you want your professional partner just to blow sunshine up your skirt? And then let you be embarrassed when an agent or editor says what you've turned in is substandard? If you can't take honest criticism that will greatly improve your project, don't ask for it.

Conference over

The 15th annual Columbus Writers Conference, which I mentioned several posts ago, is history, and I have to send kudos to the conference's Fearless Leader, Angela Palazzolo, and her crew of dedicated volunteers (and paid staff, too), who do such a great job of moving everything along so smoothly. I've attended a few conferences in my time, and this one truly is one of the best. And this year, the best was even better. The speakers were terrific and very welcoming and helpful to those who attended.

It was a packed two days--and a bit tiring, especially for the staff members who were up all night--but their hard work really paid off. Many of the presenters commented about how much they love this conference because they are treated so well and also because Angela leaves nothing to chance.

Good show, folks!

And now a word to the attendees, who also were wonderful, because if the crowd isn't into it, the whole thing can be a little flat. This group was really into it--active, involved, asking questions, talking to each other and the presenters.

Nonetheless, just a bit of advice. While it's important to know the business of publishing--marketing and promoting, pitching and contracting, the first thing to do is to write the best work you possibly can. Read lots of books, not just about how to find an agent or a publisher or how to write a dynamite query letter (although those things are useful and necessary during your career), but also about the art and craft of writing. All that knowledge about the publishing industry won't help you much if your book isn't any good. Find your voice, try on different points of view, choose and polish your words until you really believe you can't do any more or any better. Let the rest take care of itself at the right time.

And don't believe your mother, your sister, or your friends about the quality of your work. No matter how candid they try to be, they love you, and they will not tell you the whole truth. Find a critique group made up of writers who are serious about craft or pay someone for a professional assessment. Find out what the unbiased observer has to say. Writing well is a great deal harder than it looks. It's a lifelong quest to be an outstanding writer. Take your time.

Why fiction?

In my last post, I talked about writing what you know. In a similar vein, it helps to write how you know. In the past year, I've had several clients who are terrific experts in their fields, and their book ideas might sell as nonfiction. However, they've made the decision to use those ideas as the basis for novels.

This decision demands that they know how to construct a plot, develop believable characters, write dialogue, and master myriad other large and small details. It's hard, exacting work to craft a novel.

Although nonfiction writing, such as biography, also must be compelling, fiction has to be even more finely drawn, since the reader has no background knowledge of the characters or the events that unfold in the novel.

I suppose there are natural talents out there who can, with no training except years of reading, sit down and crank out a wonderful novel. I have to believe those people are rare. Writing is like any other art; even the greatest painters and musicians studied with someone before venturing out to find a commission or perform their first concert. Or they spent a lot of time with other artists and musicians, working together and honing their skills.

People will accept the idea that painting and music are talents that must be nurtured; they are somewhat less willing to accept that same idea about writing fiction. After all, didn't we all struggle through high school English? Can't we all write? No. At least not at the level required for professionalism. So, if you're serious about wanting a career in fiction, you have to read, read, read, and study with those who have mastered the art. Go to conferences, take classes, join a good critique group. Learn again. And again.

What You Know

A fair number of manuscripts cross my desk every year, and frankly, most of them have serious flaws. Not necessarily unfixable, but things that will take a good deal of work to correct. The most common problem I see is manuscripts in which the leading character works in a profession the writer knows nothing about. It rings false and readers know it.

Recently, I looked over a manuscript in which the main character was a television reporter. The writer had never been part of local news; in fact, he'd never even visited a newsroom. His next-door-neighbor had some passing acquaintance with the field, and she read the author's manuscript. However, because the neighbor was not an expert either, she missed some glaring errors.

In another case, the main character was an opera singer. The author knew virtually nothing about opera. She used a great many "opera" terms, but they were words I'd certainly never heard. I looked them up and couldn't find them. When I asked the author about them, she confessed that she'd made them up. Can't do that--unless you're writing a fantasy and the opera singer lives in another galaxy. But then you have a whole new series of issues.

Of course, no author starts out as an expert in every field, but if you're not conversant with a profession, either recast your character or become an expert. There are many opera singers, reporters, forensics experts, police officers, ballerinas, dog catchers, doctors, potters, politcal operatives, and teachers who would be happy to share what they know about their professions. Read everything you can, too. Have fun increasing your knowledge. That's one of the joys of writing. You get to learn as you go. What could be better than that?

So You Want to Write a Book

Years ago, I heard a Very Famous Author, one of my favorites, speak at a conference. She said she was once at a Very Flossy Party, where she struck up a conversation with a Very Important Brain Surgeon. When he asked what she did, she said she was an author (by then, she'd written a bunch of best sellers). His response was, "Oh, I'm going to write a book someday, too, when I have time." She fired back, "I'm going to take up brain surgery when I have time."

I applauded her remark because I've heard the same thing so often. There is apparently a belief out there that anyone can write a book if he or she has time to do it. Well, the truth is that most people who write books don't have the time to do it (until they, too, become Very Famous Authors and don't have to clean their own houses anymore). They write for a couple of hours a day while they also take care of their children and go to their day jobs. They get up at ungodly times to write before they begin the morning commute. They write in their cars while they wait for the kids at lacrosse practice or scribble a few lines at the laundromat. They write during their lunch hours. They write on envelopes or in little notebooks.

Writing isn't a matter of having time and a perfect writing environment; it's a matter of having something to say and the discipline to get it down in whatever bits and pieces of time you have. And then spending months rewriting and polishing. And then having your book rejected. It's work, not a hobby. I often tell clients that writing a book is like digging a ditch with a teaspoon. It's exhausting, frustrating, and sometimes exhilarating.

It also takes a modicum of talent and the willingness to get out there and meet agents and editors and other writers and to learn something about both the art and business of publishing.

So when you meet a writer at a cocktail party, remember this: He probably can't do your job--but you probably can't do his either.

The Doctor is In

People often ask me what a book doctor does. It can be a confusing term, since some "book doctors" repair or rebind books, and I wouldn't know where to start to do that. My line of work is to critique manuscripts that writers want to get ready for representation or publication. The hardest part of the job isn't the mechanics of pulling a manuscript apart; it's hurting writers' feelings.

One of my favorite books is Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird; in it, she warns writers to stay away from those who are cruel in their assessment of someone's work. And she's right. So I try not to be cruel, and I try to find what's good in any manuscript I receive. I remind writers that my opinion is just one of many. I'm only an editor; I leave all-knowingness to God. All critique is subjective. What I don't like another editor might love. I try to give an honest, kind reaction to the book's various strengths and weaknesses as I see them. Since I've had plenty of my own work rejected, I know how it feels. Pouring cold water on someone's hopes is not what I want to do.

Still, I'm sometimes surprised at what people will send for critique: Books that are full of grammatical errors, misspellings, typos, and other types of carelessness that tell me perhaps I care more about the book than the author does. So here's a little tip. If you're going to send a manuscript to anyone--editor, agent, or publisher--you be kind, too. Make sure that what you send is the best you can possibly make it at the time. That means taking care of the details as well as the big picture. It's hard for a reader to see that bigger picture when he or she is being bogged down by slipshod execution. Give it your best shot. And I will, too.