“Inspiration is for amateurs.”

February 8th, 2010

Or so says the artist Chuck Close.  And even though I spent half the morning staring out the coffee shop window, hoping the divine spark would fall out of the sky and land on my head so that I could figure out how to write the scene I’m working on in my newest novel, I absolutely agree with him.  

I have had entire books that seemed to spill out of my pen, inspired by whatever muse is in charge of such things, and I have had entire books that were pulled one drop of blood from my flesh after another, and while I like the “spill out of my pen” process better than “pull one drop of blood from my flesh after another,” on reading the works in question, you would have no idea which is which.  It’s not as if one process yields a better result than the other.   And you learn a great deal about the craft of writing from the tough slog of writing even when you don’t feel particularly inspired.  That’s why I have always believed it’s a mistake to think that you should wait for inspiration to strike before writing.

Does that mean you should force ideas before they’re ready?  No.  It just means that you should sit down every day and write — and not just write, but write with the purpose of making progress toward a goal: to finish an article, to polish an essay, to respond to a writing prompt, to draft a scene in your novel.

Words matter

February 3rd, 2010

If, before this week, you had told me that I would one day agree with Sarah Palin on anything, I would have snorted hot tea up my nose and wondered what you were smoking. 

That was before Palin called out Rahm Emanuel, the White House chief of staff, for using the word “retarded” as a slur.  I am so sick of hearing this word used that way that I can only stand and applaud.  I am sick of the way we treat the cognitively impaired as second-class citizens, long after we’ve agreed that it is wrong when done on the basis of gender or race or creed.  But it’s still okay to use the word “retarded” as the ultimate insult, in the process disrespecting every human who has ever struggled with an imperfectly functioning brain.

I have heard the word retarded used to describe my daughter, and I always wince.  She is cognitively impaired because of a genetic disorder that damaged her brain before she was born.  There is nothing any of us could do about her condition.  To mock and scorn her for it is the cowardly act of a person with few redeeming qualities, one who must denigrate others in order to feel good about himself. 

Not too long ago, I asked colleagues on a writers’ board to stop using “retarded” when they meant “ignorant.”  One or two people told me they didn’t realize how offensive it was and apologized.  The others basically told me to go screw myself for asking them to grow up and use some judgment.  

This was disheartening, to say the least: if writers don’t accept that words matter, how can we expect anyone else in the world to?  Words do matter, and when you use ”retarded” as a slur, you are dismissing and dehumanizing my daughter.  And she, sir, is a finer human being than you and I could ever hope to be. 

If you could see how hard she works to learn a thing I can pick up on the first try, you would not be scornful.  You would stand in awe of her persistence and her dedication to knowledge.  If you could listen to her conversation, and hear how she assures everyone that they are beautiful and she loves them, you would see the depth of compassion she has for others.  She does not see the purpose of hurting and insulting people, even those she disagrees with.  If you could see the way she stands up to someone who loses his temper and tells him he reminds her of the Beast in Beauty and the Beast, you would admire her courage and her sense of self.  

You may call my daughter retarded, and if you mean it as a description, it is true; if you mean it as an insult, the slur is on you.  You are something far worse than retarded: you are ignorant, and know it, and can’t be bothered to educate yourself.  That, in my opinion, is the condition worthy of mockery and scorn.

Perfect practice

February 1st, 2010

Writers are often encouraged to get in the habit of writing every day, whether it’s a journal entry, a blog post, a response to a random writing prompt — or actual work on a work-in-progress.  The idea behind this is that by getting into a habit, you’ll accomplish something: you’ll become a better writer, you’ll finish that novel you’ve been working on, you’ll finally get the Pulitzer you should have been awarded years ago.

Like many tips for writers, there’s some truth to this: if you don’t actually write, then, you know, you can’t really be a writer.  And a lot of people complain they don’t have time to write when in fact they simply don’t make time to write — it’s not a priority so they don’t treat it as one.  If it is a priority, then you have to treat it like one, and thus you need to do it every day or some approximation thereof.

The only problem with this line of reasoning is that practice, even practicing every day, doesn’t make you better at anything.  I’ve read blogs by people who have been blogging for years, and they still don’t know the difference between it’s and its; others have never risen above turning out what could charitably be called workmanlike prose.

My first martial arts instructor used to say, repeatedly, “Practice doesn’t make perfect.  Perfect practice makes perfect.”  I’m not going to quibble over whether anyone can become perfect at anything, including martial arts, but the point is a valid one: if you practice a sloppy front kick ten thousand times, it’s still a sloppy front kick on the ten-thousandth-and-first try. 

I’m not saying that you need to make sure that every sentence you write is perfectly formed: that’s a sure road to writer’s block.   I am saying that if you hope to improve as a writer, you need to do more than simply put words on a page for a certain number of minutes or words per day.  Your practice has to include a component of assessment.  You need to figure out if you’re getting better, and where you continue to need improvement. 

I’m not saying you need, necessarily, to join a critique group (that’s a conversation for another time, because those groups can help you grow or strangle your growth, and lots of possibilities in between).  I’m saying you need to be able to tell if you’re getting better, over time.  This could mean submitting your work to editors (or agents) and seeing what happens.  It could mean taking a writing class at a nearby university. It could mean finding a mentor.  It could mean educating yourself on how to improve your writing, by reading books on writing or just reading books, period.  

In any case, it isn’t enough to simply put the words to the page and expect to improve.  Your practice has to include a component of judgment and assessment, though how you get that is up to you.

Stay tuned!

January 29th, 2010

When I began this blog, I intended for it to be a place for writers and other creative types to get encouragement, tools for motivation, and solid information about the writing and publishing processes.  That purpose (those purposes?) got hijacked when I started working as an agent for the Salkind Agency.

 

So, going forward, I’m going to be moving the emphasis back to talking about the writing process/motivation/getting things done and not so much on agency business.  Do continue to feel free to ask questions about agenting for me to answer here.

 

Hope you enjoy!

Asking me out: conferences

January 21st, 2010

I have been invited to three writers’ conferences so far this year.  I have accepted one invitation.  Let me explain why. 

The reason why I attend conferences as an agent is to connect with writers who may now, or in the future, develop an excellent nonfiction book idea (or write a great novel).  That’s it.  I don’t go for the atmosphere or the food or because I have nothing better to do on weekends.  (Although if anyone wants to invite me to Maui, I could be persuaded.)  I like to share what I know, that’s true, but I can do that on this blog as easily as I can in a workshop.

Taking three or four days off to attend a conference requires a great deal of  effort, organization and expense on my part.  I have a personal life; going to a conference necessarily infringes on that.   Weigh those negatives against the positives — potential for clients and the chance to hang out with writers — and it’s never a sure thing that I’ll go.  I can get clients sitting here at my desk. 

So here’s why I accepted one invitation and not the others.  The organizer for the “yes” conference had a clear idea of what she wanted me to do and when she wanted me to do it.  She proposed her plan, and stated her intention of paying for travel and lodging.  She gave me a sense of what the conference was going to be like, and how many people had attended in the past.   All in all, the conference seemed well organized and the invitation was gracious, welcoming and sent in plenty of time for me to make plans.

In contrast, I was invited to attend another conference but with no expenses paid.  I love writers and I even enjoy attending writers’ conferences, but if you’re going to ask me to work all weekend, the least you can do is pay my travel and lodging expenses. I’m not paying out of pocket for the privilege.

The third conference was an invitation that was apparently sent to everyone in the universe who calls himself/herself an agent or an editor.  We were invited to submit proposals for panels that we would give and we’d be informed if our panel was selected.  No word about expenses paid, but I can guess.  Frankly, I have many better things to do with my time than beg people to consider having me work their conference.  Most legitimate agents I know feel the same way.   Now, before someone says, “But that’s the way RWA has always done it!” let me reassure you that I’m not talking about RWA, which is a conference unto itself; I’m talking about a regional conference someone put together without seriously thinking about what they were doing.     

If you want your conference to be taken seriously by agents and editors, you will want to build in a method for paying the expenses of the professionals who’ll attend, and you’ll want to invite them specifically and individually.  I can promise you that you’ll have a lot more success that way.

Agency business: One at a time, please!

January 19th, 2010

Since the Salkind Agency has expanded, the agents here are running into a situation where some authors are querying all of us at once.  This creates a problem, as we share queries with one another anyway, and we don’t like to spend time considering the same work someone else at the agency is considering.  As you can imagine, our inboxes are full enough as it is!

For this reason, we’ve developed a new policy: we request that authors query only one of us at a time.  Note that we’re not saying you can’t query agents at other agencies simultaneously to querying one of us.  We’re just saying that you need to query agents at the Salkind Agency one at a time. 

In general, if any of us gets a query that isn’t quite right for us but could be right for someone else at the agency, we will pass it along.  However, if that doesn’t happen, and you receive a rejection from one of us, you’re free to query someone else here anyway.  But please don’t query all of us — or more than one of us — at a time.  We all respond very quickly to queries, so you will have an answer quickly.

Thank you!

Update: Response times and pitching tips

January 14th, 2010

When I first started out as an agent, I was able to respond almost immediately to query letters and to respond within a week or two to partial manuscripts and non-fiction book proposals.  This was because I knew most of the people who were querying me, and I did not get as many queries each week as I do now.   

So, my response times have changed.  For queries, I now generally respond within a week of receiving them, but do allow two before e-mailing me to ask if I received your query.

I do accept unsolicited proposals (for non-fiction) and the first chapter/30 pages of a novel manuscript as long as they are accompanied by a pitch.  The pitch (query) should be in your e-mail to me, and the proposal or manuscript pages included as an attachment.  I need to emphasize the importance of sending your query in the e-mail itself, not as an attachment.  I don’t open attachments to read query letters. If you send something more than a pitch letter to me (i.e., a non-fiction proposal or partial manuscript), expect it to take me about a month to respond. 

If I request a full manuscript (for fiction), it will take me 2 - 3 months to respond.   

You are free to e-mail me to follow up, but please allow some time for me to respond, as outlined above.  Following up is professional and admirable, especially considering that e-mails don’t always reach their intended recipients; displaying impatience, annoyance and a tendency to ask, “Have you read it yet?” every thirty-seven seconds is not. 

Please note: I am NOT representing children’s and young adult.  Feel free to pitch me practically anything else.

Also, please note: I don’t respond to queries I can make no sense of, queries that are copied to every agent in the known universe, and queries that aren’t queries but are requests for instructions on how to write queries. 

Phew.  Thank you for your time.

Milwaukee, Here I Come!

January 12th, 2010

I have been invited to be part of the Milwaukee Spring Writers Festival, which is held annually in March (this year, it’s the 5th through the 7th).  I’ll be doing a pre-conference workshop, participating in a panel and doing pitch sessions, which should make me nicely exhausted in time for work on Monday morning. 

I love Milwaukee, and I’m not just saying that because the conference organizers were wise enough to invite me there.   If you’re in the area, drop by and attend some of the festivities!

A Day in the Life

January 7th, 2010

Yesterday I sat down at the desk with a cup of tea shortly after seven-thirty.  By nine-thirty, I had:  

  1. read a client’s proposal and offered feedback
  2. started working on pitch
  3. responded to a request for further information from an editor interested in a client’s project, which required a couple of phone calls and two e-mails
  4. talked with a client about my strategy for her book
  5. wrote a blog post
  6. started compiling a list of editors to pitch a client’s project, which required mining my list of contacts, the agency’s list of contacts, plus the super-secret database that only the special publishing cabal knows about (that was a joke, in case you’re wondering)
  7. read a potential client’s proposal, but had to pass
  8. talked with a client about platform building strategies
  9. followed up on several outstanding submissions
  10. wrote a note that will eventually go to web guy about website updates
  11. turned down a couple of queries – all interesting, but nothing I felt strongly that I could sell

And I still feel like I didn’t get anything done.

How to: Make Your Book More Marketable

January 5th, 2010

Some ideas to consider for making your book more appealing to agents and editors: 

 

  • Expand your niche.  Sometimes agents and editors like a book but don’t think the primary audience for it is big enough.  You can expand your niche by adding secondary audiences.  A book for straight parents of gay teens can also be marketed to include school professionals  and other family members and friends.
  • Focus on one genre or another, not ten.  You may think that your erotic paranormal futuristic romantic suspense will appeal to readers in all the genres represented but that’s not always true.  It can seem muddled instead of inclusive.  Editors and agents need to know what shelf the book should go on in the bookstore.  Pick one to emphasize and don’t worry about the rest.
  • Emphasize the timeliness of your idea by tying it to current events (but don’t make it too timely – book publishing is a slow business).
  • Restructure your book.  When I originally conceived the idea for Dojo Wisdom, it was for the book to be narrative non-fiction.  At the time, narrative non-fiction wasn’t one-tenth as popular as it is now, so I capitalized on a trend and broke the book into lessons.  You can use a similar approach to break your magnum opus into two companion books or a trilogy, turn your general nonfiction book into a prescriptive self-help, and so on.
  • Work on your platform.  A writer with a lot of fans is irresistible to agents and editors.  Consider ways to connect online and offline with readers who’ll line up to buy your book
  • Make your book bigger.  This isn’t a word count issue but a vision issue.