Online traps for unwary writers...

Imagine you're a writer or illustrator who one day hopes to be published. Yes, I know: most of you are, so it won't be hard to imagine. Or imagine you're already published, as many of you are.

Imagine that you've created a character, or a world, or whatever, and you're writing about it on your blog or wherever. Imagine you put some text or some pictures, sketches perhaps, on your Facebook page. People like them and give you lovely feedback. You develop the character (or whatever) and keep working at it, sometimes putting bits of material on Facebook.

And imagine you get a book deal out of it! YAY! Fabulous! Because that's what can sometimes happen through social media, isn't it? You put stuff out there and people see it and one thing leads to another and eventually, in your dreams and occasionally in reality, one thing leads to a publishing deal.

And maybe even a film deal.

Doubly yay with sparkly tassells and lots of fizz!

But, hang on. Who owns that content, those pictures, those snippets of text about your created world or characters? You do, don't you?

Really? As that article shows you, yes, but also no. You may "own" it, but Facebook/Twitter/LinkedIn/Instagram/platformasyetnotinvented can use it for their own purposes. Because you said they could.

Now imagine something else. Imagine that the company wanting to offer you a publishing deal or a film deal for your story, with your fabulous illustration/character/world, discovers that you've put the image/whatever on Facebook. And they realise, because they know about silly things like the law, that now Facebook has the right, because you signed the Terms and Conditions giving them that right, to use your image/whatever as it wishes. And even to "transfer or sub-license its rights over a user’s content to another company or organisation if needed."

But you could remove the images/text, couldn't you? Delete the account. Well yes. But "Facebook’s license does not end upon the deactivation or deletion of a user’s account, content is only released from this license once all other users that have interacted with the content have also broken their ties with it (for example, a photo or video shared or tagged with a group of friends)."

If I were that publishing company or film company, I might think twice about offering you a deal. After all, Facebook has the rights to use your images so how can you sell the rights to me?

Not a pretty thought, is it?

Beware the internet, especially when bearing really, really long Terms and Conditions which you're not really going to read, because who does?

Will publishers accept my previously self-published novel?

This question arose from a Twitter conversation. A writer who had self-published his novel, in order, as he later explained, to get feedback and see whether it/he was good enough to be published, then saw that a particular publisher's submission guidelines said it wouldn't consider previously self-published books. The writer wondered if this was normal. I said it was, and so did the publisher.

Had he screwed himself, he wondered?

No, but he has published his book and clued-up trade publishers will only republish books in certain circumstances, and these are rare:

1. If the book does phenomenally well as a self-published book, proving its worth. NOTE: "phenomenally well" means two things: high volume and at a decent price point. If you've sold ten thousand at only 49p, this tells the publisher nothing. That is a good result for a self-published book, but it's nowhere near good enough to show a publisher that this book has sufficient legs to sell enough at a higher price point, and a publisher needs a higher price point to cover costs and overheads - including, crucially, editing, which the self-published book almost certainly will not have had. (You may technically have had your book edited, but the publisher will most likely want to suggest changes and this is a vexed issue if the book is already out there. Be warned, too, that your understanding of the word "editing" may fall short of professional standards. Editing requires training and is not at all the same as proofreading - which also requires training!)
2. If a book has been previously published but perhaps went out of print or only sold modestly (at a proper price) but now the author has become very successful with other books, so his "backlist" genuinely stands a chance of a new life.
3. If there is some other unusual reason which gives the book a special chance of success. For example, you've suddenly become a celebrity. Or something else which my imagination is failing to imagine.

Writers need to realise that publishers are looking to publish "first rights", and if you have published the book yourself, first rights have gone, by definition. Rights are at the core of the publishing industry. The publisher does not want an unedited trial version out there already. It's not regarded as professional.

So, why did I say that the writer had not made a mistake by self-publishing? (And the publisher in the conversation agreed.) Because it's a perfectly reasonable thing to do, will teach the writer a lot and could be very satisfying. Then the writer needs to take what he learns from the process to write his next book and make it really sing. He can submit that for publication and know that he has a better chance. So, self-publishing as a tactic towards improvement, or for personal satisfaction, is perfectly reasonable. After all, you're a writer - this will not be your last book and you understand the need for practice and apprenticeship, don't you?

So, self-publish to get feedback, if you want to. (And if you know how to judge the validity of the feedback.) But don't self-publish as a trial run. Yes, you might be like EL James and your trial run accrues massive sales and huge publicity, leading to a deal, but please realise how very rare this is, and that it could only work for certain books with mass market appeal anyway. Doing this because you think it's going to net you a deal is a very rash thing to do. Unless, of course, you can sacrifice this book for that risk and get to work on your next, better one.

Self-publishing is a strategy. But there are different intended or desired goals. If the goal is becoming published by a publisher, then you need to understand how publishing works. And it doesn't work by republishing books that haven't sold squillions.

(Please forgive me if I'm slow to respond to comments. I'm in London and tomorrow I have a big event for Mumsnet. Not big as in big audience - it's a small audience - but big in terms of exhaustion and energy. And hours... Tomorrow evening, I will have collapsed, nursing a small glass of wine.)

Publishers are in it to make money - get over it

Earth to writer: yes, publishers are in it to make money. Duh.

1. Otherwise, how will they pay their staff and overheads? Etc.
2. When they make money from your book, so do you.
3. If they don't, you don't either.

THINKING OUTSIDE THE BOOK

Really interested in this video on David Maybury's blog, which I came across last week. People are criticising trade publishers a lot at the moment - and I have some criticism myself - but I was inspired by the people in this video. I love their real passion for what they do. I love their knowledge and their willingness to share with each other. They are looking ahead; they are being positive, ambitious, creative, lateral, generous, wide-thinking and free-thinking.

Too often nowadays we see people from one part of publishing industry sniping at the other - authors against publishers, publishers against self-publishers, literary against commercial, commercial against literary, paper against digital, unpublished against published, "indie" against "legacy"; we even argue about the names and their relative legitimacy. But these people just love books and words and they don't allow themselves to be restricted or blinkered by notions of what a book is or what it should be, as long as it's full of great creativity.

They are thinking outside the book.

However. Let no one forget that it's an author's mind that creates the words in the book and dreams up stories that sing. And let no one forget that we don't need technogizmery to do that. All we need is time, food and heartsong, a few people round a fire to listen, and we can then create mountains in your mind and spin the blood in your heart and ripple waves of laughter that will make you forget the ink and paper or the silicone gadgetry, however beautiful and clever.

Not a snipe at all. Just asking you not to forget what writing is, and where it comes from.

[Edited to add: yesterday I was at an event where an agent talked about an editor's job as "Publishing the gleam in the author's eye." Thus spake someone else passionate about the art of the author.]

SELLING BOOKS IS NOT A BONUS

Those of you who have heard me do talks about Write to be Published recently will have heard me say this. It needs saying again. It is fundamental to getting published.

A few weeks ago, I put a message on Twitter, asking something like, "Aspiring writers: what is your goal, your personal definition of what would be success for you?"

Replies came back along the lines you'd expect, comments such as, "I want to move people with my words," "I want to see my books in print," "My dream is to go into a bookshop and be able to buy a copy of my own book." But one reply struck me:

"I want to hold my published book in my hands. Selling copies would be a bonus."

Noooooo! Selling copies is not a bonus - the ability for your book to sell copies is utterly central to its chance of publication. If your book won't sell enough copies, a publisher will not publish it. End of. And how could we expect it to be otherwise?

Yes, we're artists, and the idea of selling, of commerciality, can be something that makes us uncomfortable. That's fine. We don't have to lose that passion for our art. That's why we write. But, if we want to be published, we must, unavoidably, aim to write a book which enough people will pay to read.

So, yes, hold onto your dream, but don't forget that your book must sell copies. It's not a bonus.

Acquisitions Meetings

This is the crucial meeting in a publishing company, at which the Big Decision will be made about your book: to publish or not to publish. To get to this stage, the book has already seduced an editor. The editor believes that it is The Right Book For This Company. Now, she has to convince the scary sales and marketing people in the acquisitions meeting. This is when the editor's passion for your book has to translate into budgets and costings and projected sales figures. I have heard editors say they quake in their shoes before these meetings as they work out how to turn their feeling of "I love this" into "I know we can shift units and generate sufficient revenue." Gone are the days when the commissioning editors held sway at these meetings; now, it's down to people who haven't read your book and often don't particularly want to. Or need to.

For you, the aspiring writer, or me, the one who wants to continue to be published (please), it is very helpful (though uncomfortable) to know how the decision is made.

Let's look at all the things a sensible publishing company must decide:

1. Does it fit our list? (It's unlikely to have reached the acquisitions meeting if it doesn't, as the editor will know this anyway.) This translates into questions such as:

• Which of our titles is it similar to?
• But is it also sufficiently different?
• Is this the sort of book we know how to sell?
• Is there a suitable time-slot available for publication? Publishers have schedules and must not over-stretch themselves. Their schedule could be full for the next 18 months, and they are unlikely to want to commit further ahead than that. They also need to choose a month for publication and that month must not be too full, or have competing titles, or have bad astrological portents. (I jest. Slightly.)

2.  Do we have the budget for it? This translates into questions such as:

• How expensive will this be to produce? Does it need illustrations? Will it be hardback, or paperback only? How long will it be and therefore how many pages? This, and such factors as thickness of paper, will affect other costs such as warehousing and delivery.
• What sort of marketing spend will be necessary?
• What sort of author advance will be necessary?
• How soon are we likely to to recoup our costs? For this, an estimate of sales figures will be discussed.
• What other books demand our resources, bearing in mind that no revenue will be generated till after publication, which may be well over a year away?

3. What is the likely market for this book? This includes:

• Do we know how to get this book to its market?  
• What is the history of books like this?
• What is the competition for this book?

4. Is this book likely to gain critical acclaim (good reviews in good places, and perhaps award shortlistings) or commercial success? (Either is good enough!)

5. Are we likely to be able to sell foreign rights, if the author grants us those rights? (The advance and value of the acquisition will partly depend on which rights the publisher is allowed to control.) What about other rights, such as serialisation?

6. What about the author - how helpful and proactive will and can she be in promoting the book? This is where your online activity and "platform" come in handy. But if you are an aspiring novelist, don't fret excessively if you haven't done much about this yet, as the publisher really only needs to see your willingness and potential to engage in all the right promotional activities. For a non-fiction writer, your platform is essential as it will hugely affect how easily your book can sell.

Phew! What tough and nasty questions these are! Our gorgeous, passionate book gets picked over by the pointy-lapelled number-crunchers and ends up as a mass of figures and predictions. But we are best knowing this now, because if we try to put ourselves in the shoes of the people who make the decisions about our book, we are most likely to produce a book which will make them say YES.

How well-written your book is is for the editor to see - it's what will make her fall in love with it and allow her to make a judgement about its reception by readers. It's what will allow her to fight for it at the acquisitions meeting and beyond. But it's what the book sounds like when described pithily that is what will get it past the meeting. And that's why my previous post about hooks and pitches is so important.

There was also a previous post which explains hooks and pitches - please read it if you're at all unclear.

And talking about hooks and pitches, remember, you can pitch your story to your fellow blog-readers, if you wish. The details of how to do this were at the end of the more recent post on pitches. A great way to perfect it before you submit it to agents or publishers. Courage, mes braves!

SMALL PUBLISHERS: SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST

I acknowledge that being a publisher is hard. (Hold your tears, unpublished and self-published writers...) It's hard for a small and dedicated publisher to make money or even to survive. It's easier if you want to be big and therefore seek to publish mega-commercial books - if you're lucky enough to find some. It's also easier if you strike lucky again and find yourself a few Booker shortlistees or winners, as Tindall Street Press did, or Canongate (which can no longer be called small); or if you pick good books and market them tirelessly, as Strident Publishing do. But what if you don't aspire to that and you just want to publish a small number of good books with a modest but passionate readership? Fair enough, eh? Isn't that like being a midlist author, a perfectly admirable situation and one we have to deal with if we don't choose or happen to write mega-sellers or if we want to write something more cerebral than popular, more artistic than commercial?

I have a great admiration for people who follow what they believe in despite its being hard. I don't exactly take an easy route myself. I also think some of them demand a lot of their potential customers. They ask us to support them because they are small and niche and suffering. I think our sympathies might be more justifiably with small and niche and sensible or ambitious. I say just the same to authors: if what you're writing isn't selling enough or gaining sufficient critical acclaim to make you happy, write something else or go about it differently.

I'd like you to look at four small UK publishers and see what they are doing.

Snowbooks - here I declare an interest because Snowbooks is my chosen publisher for Write to be Published. They are original, award-winning, unorthodox in many ways. After some temporary problems with a piece of software dealing with royalty cheques last year, which understandably caused temporary anxiety to some authors, Emma Barnes (the MD) blogged here about the financial situation for her company and also apologised for the glitch when the printing firm they used went into administration with some of their books underway. I am in awe of this openness. You would not get this with large publishers. Emma is uber-passionate about what she does, but combines this with a very strong business sense, gleaned from her previous career in the financial world. She survives and makes a profit through a combination of publishing out-of-print titles and new ones that she believes have a market - and very often they do. Though she seems to work ridiculously hard, I have never heard her complain. She is amazing to deal with, though I hope her young son wasn't completely fed up when his mother and I spent a whole weekend batting the "final" version of WTBP back and forth.

Strident - I've no idea of the figures, but Strident are looking and sounding very strong. Optimistic, using Facebook and Twitter to promote their authors actively, getting their books into promotions and garnering reviews in great places. They publish two friends of mine, Linda Strachan and Gillian Philip, both authors who are doing very well in terms of sales and acclaim (and both published by other publishers, too.) The MD, Keith Charters, is a children's author, too, and has a business background, enabling him to combine his interest in writing and authors with his financial, business and marketing awareness. Many writers with larger publishers would envy the energy with which Keith gets books into shops and onto shortlists.

Two Ravens - Sharon Blackie, the MD, sent me an email with this link, which she'd like me to pass on to you, and which outlines her current situation. She is fuming about the comments beneath a recent blog-post by the fourth small publisher I'm going to mention (see below) - which surprised me because I thought the comments were largely sympathetic and patient. Sharon criticises "comments like ‘do a business course’ or ‘try e-books/ print-on-demand instead’, 'what if small publishers could band together' or ‘target your specific readership by using social networking sites’" saying that they "show no understanding of the issues that small independent publishers of books that are different – books that the big guys won’t take the risks to publish – face." I know it's annoying when people don't understand but I think those comments were mostly well-meaning and helpful, actually, and they contain a sensible message: if something's not working, try another way. The mission statement of Two Ravens is to publish books "that are non-formulaic and that take risks" - that's enormously brave and commendable but the whole point about risk is that it's risky. And sometimes doesn't work. And, as is the case for authors when a risk hasn't working or is no longer enjoyable, a publisher has to choose what to do to deal with that. 

And here's the fourth one. Linen Press. Lynn Michell asked me some time ago to blog on her behalf. So I did, for the second time. I don't know if she noticed, because she hasn't been in touch, but I hope she's too busy doing more important things, such as selling books. I also spoke supportively about her at the York Festival of Writing and sent people over to what I thought was a great post by her. And Lynn blogged on the Guardian blog about her bizarre situation whereby she loses money each time she sells through Amazon and (as referred to above) she had lots of comments, which I thought, as I said, were largely supportive. The people were generous to take time to answer her problem, I thought. (Having said that, I believe that some of the negative comments were the most helpful ones, just as it's the negative feedback that authors have to deal with before publication that often helps them the most. Yes, it's not just writers who have to deal with negative criticism.)

This is a blog for writers, not publishers. Don't get me wrong: I love passionate publishers and passionate writers, including when they don't sell loads of books. (After all, I don't sell that many myself: I don't measure success by numbers.) But I also love readers. And I will serve readers and writers until I have no writing bone left in my body. I will serve them above publishers because I know what writers go through to produce the material for publishers. And I know how little writers earn - often below 3% of the cover price of each book their publishers sell.

Authors: write books that will sell. Publishers: publish and sell them. When either authors or publishers fail to do that as well as they wish, they need to adapt. It's the survival of the fittest. Publishers, large and small, need to watch the winds of changes blowing around them. They need to work in proper partnership with authors; they need to be realistic, pragmatic, pro-active, farsighted. So do authors. It seems to me, frankly, that authors are sometimes adapting better than publishers, which explains the rise of self-publishing. (Thereby hang another blogpost or two...) It seems to me also that publishers always need authors, but that authors do not always need publishers.

I wish these publishers enormous success. I hope that Two Ravens and The Linen Press find a way to enjoy and succeed in what they are trying so hard to do. But hard work and determination, of which I know they have volumes, are not always enough. Just as they are not enough for authors. Authors have to know how to adapt after rejection: they have to improve what they offer and do everything right, listening to readers. We cannot afford simply to complain about rejection, unless we want to continue to be rejected. Writers have been told that over and over again by publishers. I think publishers sometimes need to accept the same message.

[Edited to add: I have now stopped comments on this post and deleted some. I dedicate countless hours to blogging for aspiring writers and am not a free advertising billboard for anyone, though of course mentioning your work is completely fine if it's relevant and fair. I had received a number of comments all beginning with exactly the same words and I felt somewhat used.]

INSIDE THE HEAD OF A SMALL PUBLISHER

My advice when you're submitting your manuscript to any publisher or agent is always to try to put yourself in their shoes. But what do those shoes feel like?

At one of my events the other day I recommended the audience to go and read this fascinating post by small publisher Lynn Michell, of the Linen Press. Her desire to find the right book and do the very best for it at every stage of the way is so clear. And she really shines a light on all the other things she has to do which mean that she can't always give you feedback or spend a long time rreading your work once she's decided that it's not right for her.

Go read. I think it's instructive and enlightening.

ARE PUBLISHERS EVER WRONG?

Everyone is wrong sometimes. Don't tell me about spritual leaders claiming a hotline to a higher being - we're talking ordinary people here, and publishers are as ordinary as the rest of us.

But, more interestingly and relevantly, define "wrong". You will have heard stories of famous authors/books who were rejected 99 times before going on to be massive. So, does this mean that all the publishers who rejected them were wrong? As an example known personally to me, Keren David had When I Was Joe rejected many times before it was picked up, and it's now doing phenomenally well on shortlists. As I should know, as she just beat me to runner-up place in the North East Book Award.

You will also have heard of authors who were serially rejected, then self-published, and who then were picked up by a publisher and given a contract.

So, the implication is that those publishers were wrong. And they might have been, not being infallible etc, but I'd like you to consider some other possibilities. (And nearly all of these apply to agents, too.)

As I say, define "wrong". If by "wrong" you mean that they have missed making a load of money because they too would have made a huge success of this book, then no, not necessarily. If you mean that they ought to have said yes because any non-stupid publisher would have recognised the commercial merit of the book, and since they didn't they must be stupid, again, no, not necessarily.

In order to understand, consider the reasons why a publisher may validly and sensibly reject a book that goes on to be a success. Even a good book. Even, occasionally, a really really good book.

Good reasons why a publisher might reject a potentially commercially successful / critically acclaimed / classic book and not feel like blushing afterwards:

1. It's not the sort of book they publish and therefore they would not make a good job of it / wouldn't have the necessary marketing (eg) budget for it - different books do require different expertise. If they'd taken it on, we might never have heard of it.
2. They have filled their list for the next year (or whatever) and can't take on anything else and commit time and money to it in a time-scale acceptable to an agent/author who might be knocked down by a bus before the next possible publication date 25 years hence. You see, publishers tend to have a very small number (depending on the size of the company) of "lead titles" each month, scheduled up to 18 months (or sometimes more) ahead. If they have their max of lead titles and your book is important enough to require it to be a lead title (or your agent wouldn't have it any other way), then they can't rightly commit to it and would be doing you a disservice in taking it. Publishers have to take on only the amount they can deal with well. Remember that a lot of their costs have to be paid long before they can expect any income, so budgets are an issue.
3. They are scheduled to publish another book which would be in competition with it. In some cases this might not be a problem but it easily could be.
4. The editor in question just personally doesn't love the book enough. As you will agree, everyone has different opinions about books, and you DO need an editor who loves yours. If she/he doesn't, she/he can't speak up for it at the acquisitions meeting and it simply won't get taken on, even if another editor in another company might have loved it. It really is and MUST be largely personal choice. The same hugely applies to agents.
5. Some books that become huge commercial successes, are, in the humble opinion of yours truly, utter tripe, and have absolutely nothing about them that anyone who fulfilled the criteria of sanity and consciousness and wasn't drunk or stoned would ever detect.

Apart from that, yeah, publishers are sometimes "wrong" - in the sense that sometimes they say no when they should say yes and sometimes they say yes when they will wish they'd said no. (For example, to the Wayne Rooney autobiographies.) But let's not get it into our heads that this whole business of saying which book is going to work or not could or should ever be an exact science. It's a weird weird world out there, with beautifully unpredictable readers who can turn a dead-cert into a disappearing act or dress the Emperor in the most glittering new clothes.

For what it's worth, I find it really surprising that Keren's book was rejected as often as it was. But for each publisher who made that decision, one of the above reasons could have applied. And I am sure Keren is dancing extra-happy dances each time her book appears on a shortlist and that her publishers, Frances Lincoln, are very very happy that they got the chance to publish her.

For you, the poor author trying to deal with another rejection of what you must hope is a dead-cert, it is perhaps no consolation to be reminded that all that glitters is not sold. Sometimes, I'm afraid, it's never sold.

[This blog post was originally posted nearly two years ago. I have added the comments about Keren's book and trimmed it slightly.]

HOW RISKY IS YOUR WRITING?

I won't lay down rules about what risks you should or shouldn't take in your writing - it's something you need to work out. I do believe taking risks is essential in both life and writing but I also believe that every risk should be weighed up and taken only as an informed decision.

In writing, the risks you can get away with, and the risks you need to take, depend on a few things:

1. how good you actually are
2. whether you're a debut writer or not
3. the genre you are writing in and what the market is demanding in that genre at that time

In a nutshell, if you are a seriously talented writer, and you are either an established writer OR a new one with a majorly high-concept idea, and if the genre allows it, you can take a risk equivalent to tight-roping across a ravine. The less those conditions apply, the less risky the risks you will be able to get away with.

But remember what these risks entail. If the risk doesn't work in your favour, you will either remain unpublished or, if published, your book may bomb. Or at least die with a whimper.

What do I mean by taking risks in writing? What are the risky practices that you might be tempted to try, rightly or wrongly? Please note that when I say "risky", I do so as someone who approves of risk-taking, so I'm not saying you should avoid it. I'm saying you should understand the risks and possible downsides.

RISKY PRACTICES IN WRITING include:

1. Extreme originality that may be inaccessible to enough buyers - for example, a unique voice, a strange structure, something very arty (because many people, when they come across arty, think weird). The tricky thing is that publishers and agents do want your writing to be original - but the degree of desired originality does depend on the genre, your aim and your talent. Publishers and agents ALSO want books that readers will feel comfortable with. So, my advice is don't try to be original if you're not: go for a tried and tested style / voice with a great idea, unless your writing really can carry off a truly original voice.
2. Breaking the rules of your genre - yes, rules are, in many ways, there to be broken. But only when you know why you're doing it and when you've worked out exactly how this is going to sell and where it's going to sit on shelves. When rules are broken without reason, you look ignorant or unskilled, I'm afraid.
3. Genre-crossing without due diligence - of course, very many books are a combination of two genres and this can work brilliantly and be a really interesting read on every level. Crossing genres is not, per se, something risky, but quite normal. However, there are some things to be aware of and wary about. For example, taking it to extremes is risky - a paranormal sci-fi romantic comedy will be hard to pull off for a novice. You must also think carefully about how you're going to pitch it because everyone at each stage of the selling process needs to know where to shelve it and how to sell it. Over-complicating their job is not a wise move.
4. Writing a niche book - nothing wrong with that but be aware that a publisher has to be able to sell it. Make sure you really do know your market if you're going to write a book that has an avowedly small audience.
5. Moving away from the genre from which you're known, if you're already published, can be risky. I'd hate to suggst that writers should allow themselves to be pigeon-holed but refusing to sit in your box is still risky. I am a prime example of someone who would be more commercially successful (ie, frankly, richer) if I'd sat happily in one genre so that my readers knew what to expect each time. A pseudonym is an option if you want to differentiate between two types of book, but this wouldn't have worked for me as almost all my books are different from each other. I would soon have forgotten who I was supposed to be!
6. Not writing the right debut book. A debut book launches your career and has to make its mark. If you're unpublished, ask yourself whether your current WIP is really a strong enough concept to launch a career.

There's a reason I'm talking about risk at this time. My new YA novel, Wasted, was a risk and I knew it from the start.

1. Its voice is very unusual and if I'd got it slightly wrong it could have grated. An unusual voice is hard to sustain and could have easily slipped or become boring.
2. It has some radical POV shifts and juggles an omniscient multi-POV. Third person present tense is also probably the riskiest voice to attempt.
3. It contains difficult abstract concepts and asks the reader to embrace complex aspects of science and several types of philosophy. (So far, everyone seems to have found this easy.)
4. It is a book that I had to write - but a book that the writer feels compelled to write is not necessarily a book that readers will feel compelled to read. I knew this, but I had to do it. Just had to.

Fortunately, the early signs at the time of writing this post are that my risk-taking has paid off. But my fingers are still hugely crossed and I'm very far from relaxed. But, so far, I have had the most extraordinary response, from adults and teenagers. I am not stupid: I know that there'll be people who don't like it and who will decide to say so, perhaps vehemently - and it's often the case that the more glowing one's best reviews, the more biting the worst ones, so I know it's going to be sore when the negative comments come. But what I do know is that I've done what I set out to do: to get my intended readers by the throat, shake them up, make them talk, keep them awake at nights, and at the end for them actually to say they enjoyed it.

So, to all of you, whatever stage you're at in this crazy business: take risks, yes, but take them in the full knowledge of what those risks are, why you are taking them and how to make sure that your seat-belt is as securely fastened as possible.

ALL THAT GLITTERS IS NOT SOLD

Here's another myth / misconception about being published: Publication Day. Well, no, the day isn't a myth. But that idea that it's all glittery is.

Today, for example, is the Publication Day for Wasted. Do you hear any trumpets? Did I receive flowers and champagne? Am I either relaxing in splendid luxury or tearing round the country signing books for my adoring fans? Both of them.

No. (Well, I don't think so, but I am writing this in advance and you never know...)

I am spending the morning presenting prizes at the Pushkin Awards - a creative writing competition for Scottish and Russian schools. I was one of the judges, and I was incredibly impressed by the standard of entries. Then I'm hopping on a train to London at lunch-time, in order to be there on Tuesday morning to make tea for the persons from Pickfords who will be moving our furniture into our new London flat. (The persons from Pickfords are a little like the person from Porlock: they stop writers from writing.)

But on the train I must be writing, because the last few weeks have been shockingly useless for that. Not only have we been up to our eyes in Pickfords people (having moved house four weeks ago, as Stage One), but I've been evicted from my study by my daughter who has been staying with us, which is obviously lovely, but the new Edinburgh flat doesn't have enough rooms for all four of us so I have had to work at the kitchen table, which rather often seems to have tomato pips on it. Plus, there've been eleventymillion workmen of all sorts trying to fix problems.

What is my point and why the title about glittery things? My first point is that there are moments in a writer's life which should have trumpets and glitter but don't. And there are moments of pleasure which come when you least expect them. Like any life, really?

My moments of pleasure in the last couple of weeks have come from the quite exceptional response to Wasted from all those who have made a public comment about it, including on Amazon (unless something negative has gone up since I last looked!) I have never had such reactions before and I am beginning to dare to hope that this might be a word of mouth success. My publishers say there's a real buzz and they are daring to be excited too. A happy state for an author, let me tell you. Our careers are very fragile and we really need our publishers to believe in us and our books. One day, probably soon, I will blog in more detail about the fragility of author-publisher relationships.

Wasted is the sort of book which cannot really be marketed or thrust at its very savvy target marget. It's a book which stands or falls by one thing: reader reaction. You can't have publishers going round saying a book is brilliant and expect clever people to believe it. But when readers of all sorts and all ages start to talk and recommend a book, that's where the power lies.

Vanessa Robertson, the owner of the Edinburgh Bookshop and The Children's Bookshop, said on Twitter that if Wasted didn't win awards and sell in quantities, there was no justice. That's a lovely thought. Thing is - and this is my second point - in writing as in life, justice is often a scarce commodity.

After all, if there was any justice, I'd be drinking champagne and being pampered today. Not on a train trying to get some writing done before welcoming Mr Pickford for the fourth time in a month...

You know it yourselves: books that should sell and do well often don't. And vice-versa. Many of you are good enough to be published, and yet you haven't been - yet, and I'm trying to help you.

If you want to know more about Wasted and follow its progress while seeing some of the behind-the-scenes facts, do hop over to the Wasted blog, where we are discussing everything from quantum physics and philosophy, to risk, luck and cats.

Now, I have a big request for you. Pretty please. If you read Wasted, and if you like it, would you tell people about it? I will be so grateful for anything you can do, however small. I really need this book to work, and there is more riding on this than you can imagine. Wasted is a risky book; it could have bombed; it still could. I put myself on the line to write the book I believed in with as much faith as I could find, and now I'm asking for help.

Your help.

Because if this book does well, the champagne's on me.

Not literally.

Off to buy biscuits for Mr Pickford.

MISCONCEPTIONS ABOUT WRITING

I've blogged before about the misconceptions that non-writers (and often aspiring writers) have about being a writer: what it involves and why we do it. These misconceptions feed into the conversations we find ourselves trapped in and often irritated by, and if you're hoping to be published you need to be prepared for these conversations.

So, my post today is not about how to get published, or wishing to be published, but about being careful about what you wish for, and being ready for it.

Two things I'd like you to do.

First, read this post here - long-time readers of this blog will remember it.

And second, head over to Strictly Writing, here, where you'll find a fabulous video made by Caroline Rance.

And as a little extra, but unrelated to the message, you might like to watch the video I made last year with the same software. It's great fun to use and is even free.

I have another misconception for you on Monday, which is a Bank Holiday in the UK. And no, the misconception is not about the sun always shining on bank holidays, though that's one as well. You want a clue? It's also the reason why my blogging has slightly gone off the boil temporarily. That and the fact that I don't currently have a desk or any peace at all.

There's another clue here:

RISKY WRITING AND THE MODERN WORLD

In difficult economic times, sensible people think more carefully about risk. Sensible publishers are more cautious about flinging their money around; sensible writers take more care to make sure their book is as good as it can possibly be before they send it out.

Going, going, gone are the days when an agent or editor drooled over raw talent and positively ached to spend eleventymillion hours honing that talent into a publishable book. Welcome to the modern world.

Did I say modern? I'm reading the US ultra-mega-seller Valley of the Dolls by Jacqueline Susann at the moment. I know, bit late, but I wasn't allowed to read it as a teenager - actually, "they" made sure I never heard of it - and I had to wait till I was 48 before I dared. The main character's man of the moment - I'm only halfway through and God knows how many more men there'll be; or women - is writing a book, which he is desperate to publish.

Bearing in mind that Valley of the Dolls was published in 1966, I thought you might like these snippets from it:

"Right now, I'm not sure if I can write. I'm not sure the book will even be good. At this very moment there must be half a million ex-GIs sitting at type-writers and hammering out personal versions of Normandy, Okinawa or the London Blitz. And each of us - we really have something to say. It's just a matter of who says it first - and who says it best."   ...

"Lyon ... after the book is finished, will you marry me?"

"I shall be delighted to - if the book turns out to be a good one."

She was silent for a moment. "But you said yourself ... even a good book doesn't always make money."

And then in a scene a little later, Anne is talking to a friend, Jennifer, about the fact that Lyon has finished his book. (That was quick...). Jennfier says:

 "Wonderful! Now you can get married!"

Anne laughed. "It's not that simple. First it has to be accepted by a publisher. He gave it to Bess Wilson - she's a very important literary agent. If she likes it and agrees to handle it, he's halfway home. A publisher will automatically read a manuscript with more interest if he gets it from Bess Wilson."

So, it was never easy, and agents were always important, and writers still sruggled. Even good books didn't necessarily make money. 

Oh, by the way, Lyon gives Anne up for the sake of his writing. He takes her type-writer and disappears to the North of England - as in England, UK, not New England. Crikey, isn't that where Jane Smith lives? - and plans to write, because, "If I want to write, there's only one thing to do - write."

Yep. That hasn't changed either.

Oh, and he plans to marry "the first plump English girl who will cook and tend for me." Typical bloody man.

Anyway, back to the thing about risks and the real modern world, the one with a recession and all sorts of horrible threats to books. I was reminded of all this by this excellent post on whether children's editors are taking risks any more, from the Kidlit people. I think it nicely explains the situation. And don't think this only works for children's publishing. It applies to all genres.

It shouldn't depress you but it should goad you to better and better. There's no room for laziness or second-best if you want readers.

And as for plump English (or even British, as some of us prefer to be called, in case we might actually be Scottish or Welsh or Northern Irish) girls to cook and clean for you, fugeddit. Atcha with my pointy shoes.

PITCH YOUR HOOK

Yes, yes, yes: it's the writing that counts. But your aim is that people should read it, no? In order to get people to read it, you have to pitch it to them. So, your pitch must hook your reader - in this case an agent or publisher - and this hook forms the basis of your pitch.

Pitches and hooks? Gah - get to the point, wummun!

A blog-reader, Sarah from the Slushbusters blog, asked me to say something about pitches because they're running a Polish your Pitch comp over there. [Not in Poland - yes, I was confused, too.] So, I will say something. Inevitably, I will say several things.

First, the word "pitch", in this context, means, "the short, snappy thing which will beautifully and compellingly describe your book in such a way that no agent or editor who handles such books could possibly pass on by and no reader who reads such books could possibly not read it." Sometimes when we say "pitch" we mean "the whole approach and submission". That's not what we're talking about here.

So, your hooky pitch describes your book in a very few seconds [because that's all you may get]. It is never too early to work out how you will pitch your hook as you never know when you might need it. For example:

• At any point during the writing of your tome, someone may say to you, "So, what's your book about, then?" [They always call you "then", for some reason.] You will blanche internally, and possibly externally. If you don't have a hook, you will then start gabbling and using phrases like "sort of", "and then", "kind of", "well", "oh, and also", "but the thing is", "to cut a long story short", "mysteriously", "and meanwhile, while all that's going on" and, finally, "well, I can't really explain but it'll all become clear when you read it." And your audience will have drifted away to cut its toe-nails.
• At many points after publication, the same question will be asked.
• But, way before that happy point, you certainly need it when you first approach an agent or editor formally.
• You may even bump into such a person in unforeseen circs, and you may suddenly feel the urge to pitch your book there and then. If you start waffling now and getting involved in sub-plots, you've lost your fish.
• Also, your agent will need to pitch it to a publisher and your editor will need to pitch it to the sales and marketing people, who wouldn't dream of actually reading your book. They need your hook and it needs to be simple, because they like simple things.
• Sales and marketing people will then start writing Amazon blurbs, still without having read the book. They will certainly need your hook then.

So, get it right.

Or them, because actually you need two forms of hooky pitch. You need the written one, all beautifully scripted with not a word out of place. And you need the spoken one, the one that sounds like [because it is] you talking from the heart about your fabulous book.

Pointy point about hooky pitches: if you plan your hook beforehand, it can hugely help you focus your book while you're writing it. I usually write a blurb for my books before I write anything else. After all, if I know what it's about, that kind of helps.

Tips about your hooky pitch:

• It must be short. How short? As short as possible while still saying what the book is about. [Ignore all those annoying** people, including important agents, who say you have to use maximum 3 sentences.The thing about rules like that is that you then write really long sentences and anyone who is hung up on number of sentences isn't really thinking about the power of language. I could write the examples below in max three sentences if I wanted to, but they'd be no better, and actually would be clunky and ugly. So, people with unhelpful rules, please butt out remove your posteriors.]
• Brainstorm some words that seem to encapsulate your book - and use those words.
• Imagine that when you begin, the listener /reader is expecting you to be just another idiot wannabe who thinks she's written a great book. Your hook has one objective: prove them wrong.
• Inject some passion into it, whether it's written or spoken.
• Be confident but not cocky. Don't say um and sort of.

[**I don't mean you, Slushbusters, with your lovely competition! Comps need rules.]

Here's the sort of thing I'd say in conversation if someone asked me, "What's your next book about, then?"

"It's called Wasted, partly because it's about alcohol, but it's really about risk, danger and passion - and wasted chances. Jack - who has had luck so horrible that he thinks it can never get any worse - plays incredibly risky games with chance, tossing a coin and obeying it, whatever the danger. Luck brings him the gorgeous Jess, whose mother is an alcoholic, but in one terrifying night luck runs out for Jack and Jess and then you, the reader, have to toss the coin and determine the ending: life, or death?"

And then, if they were still listening, I'd go into a bit more detail, either mentioning the Schrodinger's Cat angle, or the alternative realities during the book, or the alcohol elements, depending on the audience. There are several things I could mention, each of which has worked well, but I judge it according to who's listening. For example, I might say, "Oh, and twice during the book I write two versions of events and then toss a coin to choose which one actually happens, so the reader sees one possibility disappear."

I do not then waffle on. Though I am sorely tempted. Obviously, given any encouragement, I would. Which happened the other day when I was talking to some teenagers who got very excited and we ended up having a conversation about causal determinism and Buddy Holly...

If I was pitching it to an agent or publisher, in writing, I'd say:

"Wasted is a story of danger, passion and chance. Jack is obsessed by luck. He lets the toss of a coin rule his actions, whatever the risks. Chance brings him Jess, a beautiful singer who will change his life. But their luck won't last for ever. During a night of heady recklessness, they run out of choices. Now it's the reader's turn to take a risk: spin a coin and determine life...or death."

I cheated. That's actually the blurb on the back of the book. But I wrote that, too. So there.

Anyway, please don't get tangled up in rules. Rules are offered by people like me who are trying to help and make things easier, but sometimes they don't. Every book is different and every book requires a different hooky pitch to describe its essence and to hook the reader's enthusiasm. So, it's up to you how you do it. Just get it right in as few words as you can. Inspire, intrigue and hook.

But, if you want rules, I can certainly tell you some things NOT to do in your hooky pitch:

• Don't use one word more than necessary.
• Don't bother with minor characters and sub-plots. [Sub-plots may be mentioned in a longer query but not in this distillation.]
• Don't say how brilliant the book is. Avoid adjectives which describe the book.
• Don't second-guess the market by saying how popular it's going to be or how it's just made for the big screen.
• I can't actually think of any more things not to do, but I'm sure you can.

Over to you! Go and enter the Slushbusters competition! You've got till tomorrow evening...

By the way, if I meet you, I will ask you, "So, then, what's your book about?" And you will tell me and then you will ask me the same question and we will be fans of each other for ever and ever.

WALK LIKE AN EDITOR (AND AGENT)

One skill that authors need to learn is the ability to see into the minds of the editors and agents who will read their proposals. (Another skill is the ability to understand sales and marketing departments, but I'm afraid this skill eludes me. There are some lovely people in them but their minds are beautiful mysteries.)

Since I am neither an editor or an agent, I bring you the words of some real-life ones, so that you can begin to hone your editor-whispering skills.

First, The Top Ten Questions Dutton Editors Ask Themselves. They are somewhat vague, but still a very good starting point. Absorb them till you think like that about your own work.

Second, for something even vaguer, but essential because it's about that all important gut-instinct, here is wonderful blogger and US lit agent, Rachelle Gardner on why she says yes or no to a book. It's worth highlighting the essential part of the post:

"You know how sometimes you're reading a book and you don't want to put it down, and you're really frustrated that it's time to go make dinner or put the kids to bed, and you just want everyone to leave you alone so you can read your book? And whenever you're doing something else, you just want to be finished so you can get back to reading your book?

"But other times you're reading a book, and it's easy to put down. You find yourself distracted. You go check your email, or see what's on TV. Or fall asleep. Not that you can really define anything bad about the book, it's simply not holding your attention. And when you have some time to read, you debate whether to go back to that book or not."

I believe that if we remember that the agent or editor has to love it that much, just like any reader, we will a) improve our work by working harder to capture and hold our readers and b) understand better why a tecnnically good piece of work may be rejected. One thing I tell my clients at Pen2Publication is that we should read our work aloud, imagining that our audience consists of people desperate to go to the beach / pub / bathroom.

Finally, here are two fascinating ones. Lit agent, Janet Reid, lists the reasons why she turns down MSS, with stats. And editor Betsy Mitchell [I think that's the right name!] reveals her own list of reasons for rejection. Some of these reasons are worth a whole blog post each. They may get one, later.

One the the most interesting reasons, I thought, was this one: "Writing quite good, but this isn't the story to launch an author with."

The reason that caught my eye is that it's another facet of the point I've often made: we don't just have to write well - we have to write the right book. Not just the right book for the market, but the right book with which to launch a career, to make a splash, to attract attention.

Open your eyes, writers: think like an editor or agent and you're more likely to hook them. Editors and agents are trying to think like readers, so what you actually have to do is think like an editor or agent thinking like a reader.

If only sales and marketing departments consisted of these readers, things would be so very simple.

THOU SHALT OBEY THE SODDING SUBMISSION GUIDELINES, OK?

Right. OK. Crabbit is well and truly back. And, with a sudden an unexplained influx of new followers, it seems like a very good moment to mark my territory and, frankly, urinate very pointedly in all the right places.

I am a very misunderstood woman. See, some of you seem inexplicably to think that I advocate disobedience and rule breaking. Well, I do, in life and in writing, but only in TWO circumstances:

a) when you are totally in control.
b) when you are not submitting your work to agents or publishers.

And, if you think about it, when b) is not the case, a) is not. [Think about that, please. I know, it confusticated me a bit, too. The old double negative problem.]

My last blog post was about disobedience - specifically, and only, the possibility of sending a query to publishers who have said they are not taking unsolicited submissions. This is not actually disobedience, because a query letter is not a submission. The situation in the US is different because you always use queries anyway. Which was the point.

[By the way, I'm very grateful to Book Maven and others for raising this because it's important that it's clear to everyone and I'm mainly pissed off with myself for not being crystal clear. If I've not been understood, I regard that as my fault. Still makes me cross, though!]

Perhaps I was too subtle. See, if I'd just said, "Do as you're bloody well told every second of every day, or DIE" it would have been so simple. Instead, I gave you a situation in which theoretically you could  circumnavigate disobedience, and I even hinted that outright disobedience MIGHT get you somewhere in a very select number of circs, insluding your having written the most fabulous and irresistible book, because no publisher can resist irresistible. And then some people went off the path and thought I was advocating disobedience of the submission guidelines themselves.

No. Deffo not.

Thing is, and this is where rule-breaking becomes an art form, all good rules have reasons, and knowing the reason is essential before the ability to break it in chosen circs. And the reason for that occasional No Unsolicited MS rule is simple: the publisher knows that everything unsolicited is likely to be crap. Because it usually is. But it might not be. And in the unlikely situation that you've written perfection perfectly, the publisher does actually want it. But only in the form which the sub guidelines say, because the publisher has not made the guidelines up while high on something [probably] but because that's how the publisher likes to receive submissions, and why would you ever want to send your beloved work in a way the publisher doesn't like? Unless you're a total idiot.

Whenever you are breaking a rule - and good writers do this in their writing all the time - you have to know why, and why the rule is there. This rule [No Unsolicited Submissions / MSS] is only ever selected to protect publishers from your crapitude. Because that's what they normally get. So do agents. Overwhelmed with the stuff. They'll do anything to avoid it. Wouldn't you? If 99% of your post every day was time-wasting dross, you'd stop going to the door to pick it up, wouldn't you? But you still go to the door hoping for the fab news, the fan letter or whatever.


Anyway, that wasn't what I came here today to say. What I want to say, in my most crabbit and grouchy way is:

YOU MUST OBEY SUBMISSION GUIDELINES TO THE ABSOLUTE LETTER, even when you do have a jewel of a book. Even if you think you're God's gift etc. Even if you are.

OK?

So, if the guidelines for a particular agent or publisher say tie a yellow ribbon to it, tie a yellow ribbon to it.

Is that clear enough?

If the publisher says she doesn't like email submissions, don't damn well email it. If an agent says send 3,497 words of a sample, just do it. If the agent says no toffees, no toffees, even Wrther's Originals.

Read my lips: read the submission guidelines of your chosen (and he or she must be chosen) agent or publisher and follow them. Don't do blanket submissions because all agents and publishers are different. If you don't believe me, see Colleen Lindsay's NEW submission guidelines here. It's a very good lesson in why you should check the specific guidelines of the person you are querying or subbing to.

For crying out loud, there's so much good advice out there that there's really no excuse for not doing this. Ignore the stories of rare authors who did disobey [even if it was me] and hit the mega-bucks [that wasn't me] - those stories are often apocryphal because apocryphal stores are fun and memorable. And bloody irritating. And tell us nothing useful.

If you make a mistake, don't weep, don't stress, don't angst - just do your very, very best to please the people you need to please. Because if you're not interested in pleasing them, then on your own head be it. Stay unpublished - it's fine by me.

And believe you me: pleasing an agent or publisher is as nothing compared to pleasing your ultimate readers.

THE RIGHT BOOK...

Here I am, keeping my promise to you. I know: I've regularly said that the process of becoming published is simple [not "easy", note: "simple"]. I've said it so many times that some of you are in danger of suffering adage-fatigue. But let's say it one more time, all together now:

"All you have to do is write the right book in the right way and send it to the right publisher at the right time and in the right way."

After a recent post where I'd mentioned this again, it became obvious in the comments that there was some understandable misunderstanding as to what I meant by the most crucial part of this.

WHAT THE FLIPPING HELL DO YOU MEAN BY "RIGHT BOOK", YOU STUPID WUMMAN?

First, here's what I do NOT mean:

• a book which sells your soul, a book in which you have cynically or contrivedly ticked the boxes that you think publisher want you to tick, just to suit a market or gap therein. [You are most welcome to do this, and many people do with great success, but it's not what I do and not what many of you want to do. So, it's not what I mean.]
  
• a book which you have written because you have spotted a trend. [NB: the trend while you're planning your book is a bandwagon disappearing into the distance in a cloud of dust by the time your proposed novel is published two years later. So, vampires are out as a viable trend. If you want my opinion, angels are the next trend, but the books with angels in are being delivered to publishers NOW, so you've missed that one already. Maybe it'll be fluffy bunnies next. No, forget predicting trends unless your balls are genuine crystal.]
• any particular type of book at all. [There is no magic answer. Publishers are not looking for a particular book. So, no single particular book is the right book.]

WELL, THAT WAS INCREDIBLY UNHELPUL, YOU FOOL. IS THAT ALL YOU CAN SAY? NOTHING?

Oh no, no, no. When did I ever say nothing?

Here are some constructive thoughts about what I do mean by "right book". [When I say "constructive", please don't think that I'm going to tell you what to write, by the way, just how to think about the writing of it].

• The right book is that simple but elusive thing: a book that readers want to read.
• Publishers are the ones who have to invest the money into bringing your book to readers, and publishers have a great deal of experience in selling books [though of course they don't always get it right - this is art, not science], so they are the ones who have to make the decision. [Self-publishing is a whole other story  -  and, by the way, should be a choice, not a dump-bin for your sensibly-rejected poor writing].
  
• Although publishers need to sell books in order to recover their costs, they do not always look for the next best-seller. Most publishers will aim to have a number of big money-spinners and a whole load of books that break even or don't. Your book must fit somewhere in that range for them, depending on their financial situation, aims, and passion for your sort of book.
• All readers are different, so what is right for one group is not right for another.
• So, you might think, surely ANY book will fit into the above argument?
• No.
• Readers are a funny bunch. All of them. Even you. And me. A lot of us pretend we're very open-minded, but actually we have high and inherent need for believability, cohesion, patterns, flow - all the things which fire our neurons and allow us to reach the goal of all readers: narrative transportation. [I've written about narrative transportation somewhere  -  ah, here. It's my shortest ever post, I think, mainly because it's a link to some clever people who can tell you all about it properly].
  
• And this means we like / need our books to have certain ingredients, in the appropriate measure. [Which I will mention in passing below, though I've covered them all before in posts about voice, pace, structure, beginnings etc].
  
• This means that if you were hoping that I would tell you that the right book is, for example, a book about angels, or a historical adventure story set in Siberia, or a feisty chick-lit story with a wheel-chair bound heroine, or a crime noir novel with three disembowelled children in scene one, then I'd have to say: it could be any one of those or it could be any one of a million other possibilities.
• But that your book must do the following things in order to be the "right book":

1. Engage the reader from page one and never let him go till long after the book is finished. [Narrative transportation again.] We [all of us except the most desperate cynics or people who are forced to read books not of their choosing] choose to read this novel instead of that one because we hope we will enjoy it, nothing else.
   
2. Fit the genre or type of book which the reader expects  -  so it must follow the rules, though not necessarily rigidly, and when it breaks the rules it must do so with reason, confidence and style. Experimental writing is wonderful and commendable, but if the experiment fails, you have to ask yourself why and take responsibility for not having engaged readers.
   
3. Have a voice which is consistent, appropriate, genuine - not seeming contrived, never slipping from narrator to author or one character to another except in ways which follow the rules of voice. [And these rules are not arbitrary: they go to make a book, instead of a person putting some pretty words down for their own benefit].
4. Have something about it which makes it sound like something we'd like to read. This is the "hook" that I've often mentioned. The hook is the brief, fabulously irrestible description of a book which makes everyone want to buy / borrow / read it. Why is this important? Because the right book is not a book which will sit and wait for readers to come to it: in order for it to reach readers at all, in the vast mountain of other books which may also be good, it not only has to BE good, it has to SOUND good. 

Remember: no one is obliged to read your book. You have to make them want to. You think it's hard getting a publisher? You wait till you have to please paying readers, too.

So, have you written the right book? If it sounds good when you describe it to me [or an agent, publisher, bookseller or reviewer] then that is a very good start indeed. But it will also have to be well written, following those rules that are necessary, breaking those which can be gloriously broken with good effect. It has to feel as though it was written by someone who:

1. has a burning passion to engage the reader from the first word till long after the last word
2. has the technical skill to do so

In short: the right book is the book a publisher believes he or she can sell to an appropriate number of its intended readers. And that he can have faith in, loving it himself. Faith is pretty much what it boils down to: you have faith, now you have to make the publisher have faith, and the publisher has to make the readers have faith. The book that does that is the right book.

See, it's simple. But it's not easy. Oh no, no, no. And I never said it was. From the very first day of this blog, back on January 11th, this blog has been headed by that quote from Thomas Mann. Go look. Not everyone agrees with me that writing is hard  -  Susan Hill doesn't. Well, she's lucky. I find it hard. I love it, especially when it's been hard and I eventually crack it. Frankly, if it was easy I wouldn't bother to do it.

So many unpublished writers don't focus enough on the fact that their book may not be good enough yet, preferring to blame rejection on the other stuff, such as not having sent the right number of pages, or having put toffees in with the submission without realising that the agent had a toothache.

Remember how I said in my last post that I once write a covering letter in rhyme? Well, it wasn't the covering letter that got me rejected: I hadn't written the right book.

THE REALLY VERY SIMPLE THEORY OF BEING PUBLISHED

A blog-reader commented recently, "The more I read the more confusing it all gets". Yep, there's all this conflicting info about how to write and how to get published when all we really want is the answer to this simple situation: "I've written a book and I'm prepared to do anything to get it published; you publish books  -  so, whaddareyouwaitingfor?"

The commenter's life was simpler when she thought it was simpler, when she didn't know much about how to submit work, or the things that people might complain about, and could just send it off on a wing and a prayer, instead of angsting about all the faux pas she mustn't make and all the invisible boxes she must tick. After all, if you just think, "The agent / publisher wants a great book and I've written one, so I'll send it to her and she'll love it," it's so simple, isn't it?

This situation isn't helped by the fact that you'll read some rules, decide to follow them, and then immediately hear that so-and-so [insert name of extraordinarily successful writer] broke those rules and became an instant best-seller. The bastard.

Nor is it helped by the fact that Agent A thinks a synopsis must be about four pages, with biogs, and Agent B says a synopsis should never be more than two pages and what's with the biogs? And Publisher Q thinks a writer is ignorant if she doesn't understand that a synopsis is not a chronological outline while everyone else seems to say that a synopsis is a chronological outline. [Basically, it is. But with bells on. And some bells removed. See? Meh!]

At this point, you're with my confused commenter who wished she was still in ignorance.

OK, now let's unpick this a bit. It's like physics. [Don't leave me now.] Let me reassure you: I gave up physics and chemistry at the age of 12, after a school report that said, "Nicola has no aptitude for science subjects." Teachers can be wrong: years later, I became fascinated by science, and not only started reading everything I could find about chaos theory, randomness, mathematics, time, quantum theory, brownian motion ... but also ended up writing two books on the human brain.

And what did that mostly teach me? That there was far, far, far more out there than I could ever completely know, and that it was all horribly weird and certainly confusing, but that the more I knew the stronger I felt and the more respect I had for the real experts. I mean, how is a person like me supposed to get her chocolate-filled head around the idea of six dimensions? Or the fact that the faster you move the slower you age? [Or is it the other way round? You know, the physics that says if you took identical twins and put one in a spaceship and sent him as close as possible to the speed of light, and left the other one on Earth, they would be different ages when the first one had finished his journey? WHAT??? Blimey, give me publishing any day.]

Yep, it was all a whole lot less confusing when I didn't know any physics. When I just thought that if the Earth wasn't flat it made a pretty good job of seeming like it, except in Scotland where it's more hilly, especially when I'm cycling. Ignorance wasn't exactly bliss, but it at least wasn't difficult to manage. After all, the world continued to spin without my knowing why or with what effect on my molecules.

The analogy between the science and the writing/publishing knowledge holds in another way, too: even the flipping experts disagree about things. Hell hath no fury like two scientists disagreeing about The Theory of Everything [or TOE, as they quaintly call it]. So, just as the physicists disagree about whether string theory holds the key to Everything, so publishing "experts" will disagree about whether a synopsis should be two pages or one. Or four with biogs.

But the most important way in which this analogy works is this:

It doesn't bloody well MATTER! [Pun intended.] See, whether the physical world has six dimensions or the more visible three, whether string theory explains what Newtonian physics and Einstein's relativity theories couldn't, whether the Hadron collider is going to tell us anything, or not, we ordinary people will carry on waking up and eating breakfast. So will the physicists, actually, and though they may think their cereal is in a different dimension, it still gets soggy when you leave the milk on too long. And whether agents want synopses that fit these rules or those rules, readers [including agents and publishers] still just want great books.

See, the hoops we authors have to jump through are only there to make life easier  -  easier for the agent and publisher to find the books they can sell most happily to the readers who are there waiting for them. Trouble is that the hoops make it all look so damned hard.

Remember how I said earlier in this post:  

After all, if you just think, "The agent / publisher wants a great book and I've written one, so I'll send it to her and she'll love it," it's so simple, isn't it?

Well, it's true. It is simple. If you have written a great book, and if you send it to the right agent or publisher in a sensible way and happen to hit lucky with your timing, it is that simple. There are, amongst all the weird and conflicting advice, only a very few rules that you need:

1. Be a reader: so that you know how books and readers work.
2. Write the best book you can. Write it for readers and think about your reader while writing it.
   
3. Submit your work sensibly and reasonably. Don't over-analyse or over-complicate the situation: just like any reader, agents and publishers are looking for a great book. They don't really give a damn whether your synopsis is one page or three, as long as it demonstrates that you've written a book that they can sell and enough readers can love. 
4. But try, please, please, to make it easy for them to like you and the book. Don't do silly things like putting toffees in with the submission. Just be normal, for crying out loud, like the sort of person you'd like to have a business and personal relationship with. Because that's what it will become.
   

So, do the best you possibly can and keep trying to improve your writing and your pitch, learning as you go along. Meanwhile, hold this thought: the longer you fail to get published, the more practice you are putting in. You'll be brilliant by the time you get there!

I do have one final piece of advice: read Stephen King's On Writing. I have only recently [er, yesterday] read it and it has confirmed and elucidated so many things I already vaguely believed or intuitively knew but wanted to confirm. I'm going to talk more about this book over the next weeks and months. King is a master story-teller and he has managed to write a book on writing that reads like a story itself. There's nothing he doesn't know about narrative drive, and a whole load more besides. If you only read one book on writing, read On Writing.




It won't confuse you more, I promise. In fact, the more you read of it, the less confusing the whole thing will be. If someone could do the same for physics...

INTERESTING QUESTION ABOUT GENRE-CROSSING

I had a question the other day from a blog-reader and I thought it might apply to several of you, or at least that you'd be interested in the answer. So I asked if I could reproduce it here. And of course the answer was yes.

The email started with all sorts of thanks, which I gratefully accepted, since it's frankly all I'm going to get except the occasional [too occasional] chocolate gift. And then it went on:

"But to the point: the reason I'm mailing you is because I have a question. It developed after reading your most recent post (A True Story of a Stuggling Writer), though I've had it for as long as I've been writing; I guess I just never thought of asking. If it's a ridiculously stupid question, then I'm really sorry, but nevertheless:

In your post, you said: BS is serious about her writing, as she should be. The fact that she crosses genres tells me so  -  she just loves to write and is doing it from the heart.

So let's say a published writer has three works in progress, and each is a different genre. One is horror, one is contemporary romance, the other is fantasy. And each is completely different from the last.

My question is, would a publisher be willing to publish all these stories by the same author? Aren't authors usually encouraged to write under a single genre. I'm thinking of most of the famous authors I know. Like Meg Cabot, for example, has written a multitude of books, but they all contain romance. Would it be possible for an author to go from complete romance to complete fantasy? Like jumping from Pride and Prejudice to Lord of the Rings?

Again, I'm sorry if this is an insanely weird question. Hopefully it won't get you crabbity."

Course it didn't get me crabbity. It takes a lot more than that.

Firstly, let me say that although I write for teenagers, my books very much cross genres  -  YA fiction includes the same genres as adult fiction. So, I have written historical, futuristic, psychological and crime thrillers, light-hearted (though that was for younger kids) and adventure. And let's not even go down the Thomas the bloody Tank Engine route. Or track.

So, on that basis it would appear not to matter. But before I go on let me say that sometimes even then (as in, even granted that I'm reasonably doing okayish with my skittery bumble-bee approach) it doesn't feel particularly sensible. The disadvantages are that someone who likes my historical fiction may be surprised not to like my other stuff and then decide not to try my next book. Now, this must not be a problem because my publishers seem to be equally happy whatever I produce, so I just say nothing and keep my fingers crossed. I rather like the fact that no one knows what I'm going to do next, but it may not be fabulous for my sales.

BUT, for adult writers it's a lot harder. When adult writers cross genres, they tend to do it after being successful in one genre, and / or may use two different names. Think of Iain Banks / Iain M Banks [not much disguise there, Iain...], and John Banville /Benjamin Black.

In view of that, it would be very inadvisable for an unpublished author to offer three simultaneous different genres. If the writing is utterly stupendous in all three, the publisher / agent may be interested, but no more so than if it was stupendous in just one: they still must build a brand / name for you and this can't practically be done in three different markets, because that's what it is. Even though many / most readers read in different genres, as an intended market each group is discrete. That's discrete, not discreet, before you become confused.

The fact that you write exuberantly and passionately is great and will stand you in good stead but you should, in my view, decide which is your most sellable one, and go with that. Then, when that's contracted, hit 'em with something else. They are most likely to say, "Hang on, we need to build you as hot-shot crime writer, first  -  give us a chance." But you can still do that other writing later, perhaps under a different name, perhaps for a different publisher. But possibly same agent.

Ah, I hear you say, you said "possibly the same agent". So, can't I hit the agent with all three to start with? I'd suggest not, not until you've hooked her / him with the brilliant saleability of one of your books. You could say that you've got two other books written which you'd be happy for her to see. But major on one.

Any input from anyone? Anyone disagree? Of course, there will be exceptions but exceptions don't prove rules: they are just very irritating exceptions. I hate exceptions. They are untidy.

WHAT NOT TO EXPECT FROM A PUBLISHER

As a hilarious antidote to the info in my previous post (below) about what to expect from a publisher, do read this piece in the New Yorker. Actually, if this did happen, you should be rather grateful. This is attention of the highest order. (Thanks to various twitterers who tweeted it.)

Then, do come back here this evening for details of a chocolate + Halloween themed creative writing competition, on this blog only: a chance for you to hone your chosen writing voice / genre in a piece of flash fiction, with TEN prizes generously donated by Hotel Chocolat. Yes, Hotel Chocolat. Thank you, lovely chocolately people.